by Steven Bird
“What?”
“The damn radio. I… I can’t find it. Dammit to hell! I must have lost it back there somewhere when we had to crash through those briars in a hurry.”
“Well…” Carl said, pausing to collect his thoughts. “Let’s just keep moving. By the way, do you reckon the guys were actually engaging back there, or just running interference for us?”
“I’d like to think they engaged and won,” Q replied. “But who the hell knows? Regardless, it got us out of a bind, and I thank them for that.” Pausing to look around, he said, “C’mon. Let’s go. Just sitting here makes me nervous.”
~~~~
Hunkering down between the trunks of two closely spaced pine trees, Tyrone held the thermal imager to his eye and scanned the area until the unit powered itself down due to lack of battery power. “Damn it,” he said, shoving it back into his pocket.
Retrieving the radio, he hit the vibratory alert button once again. After waiting a few tense moments, he started to send another alert tone just as the ominous sound of a horn bellowed throughout the woods. To his horror, the horn could also be heard transmitting through his radio. Shit, he thought as he frantically clicked the volume knob to the off position. Remaining perfectly still, Tyrone listened as he heard the sounds of movement in the distance behind him. They heard it. Dammit, they heard that damn radio. And if they’ve got Q’s radio…
Clearing the thoughts from his mind to deal with his most immediate threat, Tyrone moved as quietly as he could away from his current position. Doing a low crawl to avoid being seen by the night vision of his mysterious foe, he approached the large cluster of briars and curled up against them at their base, attempting to blend in as part of the terrain. He knew they had the advantage of sight, but he also knew the limitations of non-thermal types of night vision, and hoped he could simply remain out of the picture as they searched the area.
Hearing the sounds of movement coming dangerously close, Tyrone gripped his M4 tightly, preparing to deploy it once a threat target presented itself.
Listening carefully and letting his ears paint the image in his mind, Tyrone identified the sounds of two distinct threats moving through the woods as a team. Come and get me, you bastards.
Hearing them stop at the base of the trees where his radio had transmitted the sound of the horn, he listened for signs that they were communicating, but heard nothing. The two figures working their way toward him in the darkness were separating from each other, one working its way quietly downhill to his right, and the other working its way across and above him.
Realizing they were trying to box him in, Tyrone decided to take the fight to them before they could get themselves into the positions they sought. Raising his rifle and approximating the location of the threat up the hill from him, as Tyrone began to fire, he heard a large figure crashing through the dead branches and vegetation behind him.
Caught off guard when the blade of an axe came crashing down through the briars, Tyrone rolled over on this back in an effort to employ his rifle against the threat.
Blocking the axe with his rifle, Tyrone nearly lost his grip from the impact as the rifle thumped into his chest, with the blade of the axe missing him by a mere inch.
When the axe-wielding figure raised the axe to take another swing, Tyrone quickly rolled away while his uphill pursuer came charging down the hill toward him.
Hearing the crack of a 5.56 NATO round behind him, Tyrone fired twice at the charging threat, failing to stop him because the attacker was nearly upon him.
Approximating the location of the figure’s head in the failing light of the moon, Tyrone quickly fired two more shots, whipping the assailant’s head back, and dropping him to the ground.
Scurrying to his knees, Tyrone looked to his immediate left to see that the axe-wielding man was lying face down in the dirt, having been shot in the back by an unknown source.
Hearing the familiar signal from his group, Tyrone shouted, “I’m good!” just as he noticed the other attacker, who had moved downhill, charging toward him.
“I’ve got him!” Carl’s voice shouted from the darkness just before a series of gunshots erupted from both Carl and the attacker.
Momentarily night-blinded by the series of muzzle flashes, Tyrone struggled to focus through the spots in his eyes while the attacker continued his charge up the hill.
Sending six rapid-fire shots into the barely visible figure, Tyrone watched as the large man dropped to the ground with a thud. Immediately turning toward Carl, Tyrone saw no one there.
“Carl!” he shouted, hearing no response.
“Friendly!” Q yelled as he rushed toward Tyrone’s location.
Tyrone watched as Q stopped short and knelt down to look closely at something on the ground.
With the spots of color in his eyes from the muzzle flashes in the darkness beginning to clear, Tyrone could see Q and quickly moved to join up with him.
Reaching Q’s side, Tyrone dropped to his knees at the sight of Carl’s lifeless body lying in a contorted position, having taken a round directly through the neck. “Son of a bitch,” he growled as he placed a hand on his dear friend. “He took one for me,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye.
“Any of us would have, brother. That’s what we do. He died well,” Q proclaimed, regaining his composure. “Now, c’mon. This ain’t over. More are on the move behind me. We’ve gotta go.”
~~~~
Hearing the sounds of gunfire, Daryl exclaimed, “They’re on them. Let’s go!” He and Jessie hastily worked their way through the darkness of the thick woods toward what they assumed to be their friends in distress.
“Slow down,” Jessie shouted, having concerns about Daryl’s emotionally-guided, reckless pace.
Seeing no change in Daryl’s charge, Jessie followed, keeping a keen eye out on their surroundings, hoping Daryl’s desire to help his friends wouldn’t lead them right into the hands of their enemies.
Ducking beneath a low hanging tree branch, Daryl straightened and continued to run, only to feel an arm clothesline him in the throat, taking him off his feet and smashing him to the ground with a heavy thud.
Looking up, trying to make sense of his situation, Daryl saw the reflection of a blade from the moonlight as the clouds drifted on, allowing its light to shine down on them once again. Daryl cringed, expecting the worst, just as he heard Jessie’s voice shout, “It’s us! It’s us!”
“Shit, man!” Q exclaimed, as he pulled back the blade and slid it back into the sheath on his belt. “I almost gutted you,” he said, reaching out his hand and helping Daryl to his feet.
Coughing, Daryl grunted and wheezed, “Damn, man. You took the wind right out of me.”
“Sorry, but you’re a big ol’ burly guy just like them. And that beard, well, at a glance in the dark…”
As Jessie joined up with them, Daryl looked around and saw Tyrone standing a few yards behind Q. “Where’s Carl?” he asked.
Seeing Q look down to the ground, and reading the look on Tyrone’s face, Daryl’s gut tightened as he had realized he’d lost his close friend. Taking a deep breath, Daryl pleaded, “Sam? Where’s Sam? Did you see him up the hill before you were turned back down?”
“No, we didn’t make it to the top before they rousted us,” Q explained. “Thanks for the artillery, by the way. You saved our bacon.”
Seeing the disappointed look on Daryl’s face, Q insisted, “Sam may still be out there. We don’t know anything just yet. Keep the faith, brother.”
“Right,” Daryl sighed, getting a grip on his emotions.
Looking around, Q said, “We can’t keep heading back up the hill and taking hits. We’ve got a mission, and we’ll never achieve it if we keep letting them run us in circles, picking us off one by one. Sam knows the mission. Hopefully, he’s working his way down the hill now. I think we need to press on. We’ll come back for Carl once we’ve secured Nate and the girl.”
“Right on,” Daryl said, nodding in
agreement. “You okay, T?” he asked, looking at Tyrone.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Thanks to Carl, I’m fine,” he answered in a solemn tone.
“Were you able to get anything off the ones you encountered?” Jessie asked.
“Tyrone checked out one big guy that came at him with an axe, but he didn’t have anything of added value. We had to move on too quickly to search the others that are dead deeper in the woods. They were still coming down on us.”
“No night vision on that guy, huh?” Daryl asked.
“Unfortunately, no,” Q replied.
Turning to Jessie, Q got the men back in the game, saying, “Lead the way. Let’s get back on track. We need to move in bounds. Let’s double up. Daryl, you move with Jessie, and Tyrone and I will be moving in bounds close behind. One covers and the other moves. We’re in the thick of it here. We have to assume there are eyes on us from all possible angles.”
“Roger that,” Jessie agreed. “You ready, Daryl?”
“Yeah, I’m ready,” Daryl replied.
“Okay, then,” Jessie explained. “It’s not much farther to where I left Nate. We have to work our way down the hill, probably another half mile or so. When it starts to level out, you may come upon a wash. If we follow that wash or at least parallel it as we work our way down, we’ll be in the ballpark.”
“Are there any other details you can give us?” Q asked. “You know, in case we have to find Nate without you?”
“Yes, of course,” Jessie replied. “We made our way to the surface at a large outcrop on the side of a hill. We found a water-carved entrance to the caverns beneath the rocks. Rainwater must have flowed down through the gaps in the rocks and into the hole we climbed out of. We worked our way up the hill and slightly east until we came across a level area where there were several large, downed trees. They looked like they had gone down in a windstorm, maybe a year or so ago. Nate was resting behind the downed trees, just out of sight. You wouldn’t see him unless you walked right up on him. The downed trees provided good visual cover and protection from the wind.”
“Copy that,” Q said with a nod. “Thanks. Now, let’s get on with it.”
Continuing down the hill toward Nate’s location, Q, Tyrone, Daryl, and Jessie covered one another with each bound forward. After advancing, they would stop, listen and observe for signs of trouble before proceeding.
After making progress for what seemed like a quarter-mile or more, Jessie stopped and covered Daryl as he advanced to join him at his position of cover behind a large oak tree. “It’s not much farther,” Jessie whispered.
Seeing Q and Tyrone move toward them in the moonlight, Jessie motioned them forward.
Once the four men were together, they knelt behind the oak tree, with each of them covering a different potential approach while being back-to-back to one another.
“It’s not much farther,” Jessie said to the others. “The wash should be down the hill and to the left. If we cross the wash, we should be able to work our way diagonally to Nate’s general location.”
Pleased with Jessie’s update of their progress, Q nodded and said, “Great, let’s…”
Interrupted by the sound of a coyote in the distance, each of the men felt a tingle travel up their spines as they looked at one another.
“Something wasn’t right about that,” observed Daryl, analyzing the howl of the four-legged predator.
“I know what you mean,” Q replied. “I can’t put my finger on it, but that howl gave me the creeps.”
“I’m not used to hearing a lone coyote in the area,” Jessie said. “It always seems when there’s one, the yips, yaps, and replies from every song dog in the area can be heard rustling up their prey.”
“Are we just getting paranoid, or should we be concerned?” Q asked. “I mean, these creepy bastards communicate with horns and such. I’ve yet to hear one of them speak or yell. Hell, every animal sound we hear out here could be them communicating with each other.”
“We can’t let every sound we hear rattle us,” Jessie insisted. “We’ve got to keep moving.”
“Damn, I wish the sun would hurry and come up,” Daryl said. “This has been a damned long night. I’m ready for it to be over.”
“You ain’t the only one, Daryl,” Tyrone agreed. “My nerves are shot. I need a stiff drink.”
“We’ll have to recuperate with some shine when we get home. Just keep your head screwed on straight for now. Jessie, let’s move,” directed Q, motivated to keep his men working toward their objective.
Bounding several more times, the group arrived at the wash Jessie had described. “We encountered them in this area when we were tracking Britney.” Looking up at the moon, he continued. “It looks like the clouds won’t be passing back in front of the moon anytime soon. Let’s move as far as we can in this next advance without stopping. Daryl and I will cross the wash while you cover us, then we’ll cover you from the other side. After that, let's press on through unless we make contact.”
“Make it happen,” concurred Q, patting Jessie on the arm.
“C’mon,” Jessie said to Daryl, and the two men descended into the wash.
Q watched Jessie and Daryl as they disappeared into the shadows of the rainwater-carved ravine while Tyrone watched his and Q’s back. Seeing them emerge out of the wash on the other side, Q watched for Jessie’s signal.
“Okay, they’re ready for us,” Q said, patting Tyrone on the back before he slipped down into the rough, rocky washout. Reaching the bottom, Q stopped and covered Tyrone while he climbed down the loose, rock-strewn side of the wash, joining him in the bottom. “C’mon,” he said as he began to climb up the other side.
Hearing the sound of a twig snapping on the ground uphill of their position, Q and Tyrone heard something bounce off of the ground and roll down the hill toward them, through the dead leaves on the ground.
Tyrone and Q both instinctively dove away from the tumbling object. Their time fighting the foreign occupiers had left them wary of grenades and other forms of explosive threats, and to them, anything being tossed their way had to be treated as such.
Jessie and Daryl scanned the darkness of the woods, looking for the source of the object, to no avail. With his safety off and his finger hovering over the trigger of his AK-74, Jessie’s heart raced as he waited for the other shoe to drop on them at any second.
Feeling no shockwave from an explosion, Q turned to look at the object that had been thrown at them, which was now clearly illuminated by the moon’s high position in the night’s sky. His body convulsed with fear, disgust, and outrage when he first recognized the wide-open eyes, and then the rest of Sam’s facial features on the severed head.
Suddenly, Jessie heard Q and Tyrone scream and wail as they frantically climbed the loose, rocky sides of the wash toward his and Daryl’s position on the other side.
“Nooooooo! Damn you sons of bitches! Nooooo!” Tyrone bellowed.
“What is it?” Daryl shouted, confused by the situation and holding his rifle at the high ready, prepared to engage and a mere flinch away from pulling the trigger.
“Go! Go! Go!” Q grunted in a highly-stressed voice as he and Tyrone rushed past Daryl and Jessie.
Covering their egress from the area, Jessie and Daryl soon turned and ran to catch up with Q and Tyrone, still at a complete loss as to what had just occurred.
Catching up with Q and Tyrone, who had stopped and set up a position of cover for him and Daryl, Jessie demanded, “What? What the hell happened?”
“It was Sam’s fucking head!” Tyrone exclaimed as he broke down into a strange mix of tears and rage. “They threw Sam’s fucking head at us! They could have shot us. They could have killed us. But instead, they chose to dismember our friend to fucking toy with us!”
Putting his arm around his friend and squeezing him tight, Q whispered, “Shhhhhh. Shhhh, you’re right. They did that to get inside our heads. Don’t let them in. Shut that evil out and let’s get Nate and get the hel
l out of here. We’ll come back with everything we have to eradicate these sick sons of bitches permanently. I promise you that. But we’ll do no one any good if we let their sick, twisted mind games rattle us any more than they already have. Let’s get moving and find a safe spot for a break.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Blinking his eyes as the sun’s morning rays shone through the tree branches above him. Nate smiled a little, pleased to have survived the night, only to wince in pain when he tried to shift his weight in his uncomfortable perch. “Ahhhh…” he groaned while trying to move around to restore proper circulation throughout his body.
Craning his head to get a view of his leg, Nate mumbled, “Damn. That’s not looking good.” Trying to peel back his bandage to get a better look, he noticed his hand was shaking uncontrollably.
Laying his head back on the branch, he thought about his wife Peggy and son Zack back home. Every minute that went by made him feel less certain that he’d see them again. If Jessie did not return with help, he would die right where he was. If his physical condition combined with the elements didn’t kill him, the strange hostiles in the area surely would. No, his only hope was to be rescued by a friendly force, and without Jessie, that just didn’t seem plausible.
I’ve got to get out of this damn tree, Nate thought, feeling the effects of dehydration and hunger. Reaching up and taking hold of a branch directly above him, Nate pulled himself up into the seated position and began to make plans for his painful descent.
Hearing a twig snap, followed by the sound of weeds and brush rustling, Nate froze in fear. Attempting to not move a muscle, Nate scanned the area by moving only his eyes. At first, he saw nothing, and then out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement.
His heart sank when he recognized the camouflage pattern worn by UF soldiers. Hunters! he thought. Almost as soon as the fear of the presence of the UF entered his mind, a strange relief swept through him. At least if they kill me, it’ll be with a bullet. I’d rather go out execution-style than die at the hands of those beasts in the cave. God only knows the horrors that would bring.