SNAFU: Resurrection

by Dirk Patton

As Mattock sharpened the blade, Griff and Padoo lumbered out of the building. He’d ventured into the black woods with the two tar mercs once before on a shit show of a mission. They’d gone in with twelve tar mercs. Only four came out.

  Griff and Padoo were leaving, lugging their weapons in stained duffle bags that were once camo green. Padoo recognized Mattock, gave Griff a tap on the shoulder, and changed direction.

  Griff eyed Mattock’s setup. “Jesus, man. Is that a machete or sword?”

  Mattock grinned and stroked the edge with a whetstone. “I let the thing on the receiving end decide that.” A chuckle bounced between them.

  “You ain’t going back in there today, are you?” Griff asked.

  Mattock just frowned and shrugged. “Why not?”

  “You crazy, man? The sun is gonna set,” Padoo said. “You win a bid we don’t know about?”

  “Nah, just a couple-a tourists. We go a hundred yards in. See the sights. Shoot a leech-bat for them so they can talk about it at their next soiree.”

  “Holy shit,” Griff said. “First time I ever heard someone work that angle. Damn, I gotta give you credit, bro.”

  “You know me. GTGP, baby.”

  Griff smiled, threw out a hand, and did a bro hug by touching shoulders, speaking in sync, “Got to get paid!”

  “We got tourists now?” Padoo scowled. “Fuck that. Last thing I want to see is a souvenir from in there. People got enough nightmares.”

  Mattock shrugged. “They don’t. But they about to.”

  Griff laughed while heaving his tar-stained equipment to the other shoulder “Hey, do me a favor, Mattock…”

  “Yeah?” Mattock looked up from his work, half expecting Griff to wish him well and be safe.

  “Now that you rollin’ in it, wire me that money you owe before you go in. Because I don’t want to go in after you to get it.”

  They all chuckled and Mattock nodded. “I was hopin’ to borrow a little more.”

  “Fat chance of that,” Padoo said. “He about to lose it all on a stripper named Jasmine. Come hit us up after, man.”

  “Will do.” Mattock threw them a nod as they turned to hike the dirt road. On the horizon, Mattock eyed a Bentley kicking up dust and cruising his way. He packed the seventy pounds of gear, threw it on his back, and shuffled inside.

  * * *

  It was a spacious room. One wall was covered in maps of the black woods and several lost IDs. The largest map displayed North America, a large black scar running from the tip of Canada down through the Midwest, tapering at the Gulf of Mexico: the corrupted land. The other side of the room held the kitchenette area and two vending machines. One with snacks, the other filled with various ammunition. Black tar splotches covered the floor, reminding Mattock of a city sidewalk covered in old gum.

  The couple sat at a plastic folding table filling out paperwork. Henry looked young for his fifty years, silver hair combed back and framing an arrogant smile. The woman next to him, Cassie, looked like his daughter but Mattock could tell she wasn’t by the way they joked with each other.

  He couldn’t take his eyes off them. They were so clean. Their matching khaki outfits were spotless. Their skin, ivory white. They even smelled good. Mattock looked at his reflection in the lone mirror hanging in the kitchenette. He looked like he had smeared black grease paint all over his face. The whites of his eyes stood out in stark contrast. It reminded him of old photos of coal miners covered in soot.

  “I think we’re ready.” Henry offered the paperwork and their picture IDs to Mattock.

  “Oooh, this is so exciting,” Cassie squealed. “Aren’t you excited, baby?”

  Henry nodded like he had already answered a hundred times on the trip here.

  “Great,” Mattock said, “Let’s go over some ground rules. First rule, I lead. Stay behind me at all times. If something moves, shout, point, and get out of the way. Second rule, no weapons. Only I’m—”

  “Wait, wait, wait.” Henry raised his voice and puffed his chest. “No weapons? What’s the point of being on a safari if we can’t shoot anything?”

  “You didn’t pay for a safari, you paid for a short tour.”

  “If it’s more money you need—”

  “No. It’s not about money. I only let people carry guns when I know they can shoot.” Henry was about to speak but Mattock held up a hand, knowing what he was about to say. “And I’m sure you’ve trained at a shooting range, but what we find in there makes people squirrelly and I ain’t aimin’ to get shot today, ok? You wanna shoot? We can go through some basic training until I’m confident you ain’t gonna shoot me in the ass, but we don’t have enough time to do that today.”

  Henry threw Cassie a smarmy look. “So he can make more money.”

  Mattock clenched his teeth shook his head, telling himself to be calm. “There ain’t no law preventing you from going in on your own, guns blazing. But I ain’t gonna be with you. I’ll refund your money right now. We’ll go our separate ways.”

  Mattock watched Henry lift his chin, working up courage. “Fine, I’ll call your bluff. We’ll go in alone.” Henry pulled a stainless-steel Smith and Wesson Model 66 revolver from his duffle bag. He held it at his side, palm open, flaunting it.

  “Baby!” Cassie pulled on Henry’s arm, urging him to put it away.

  “Pretty,” Mattock nodded. “I hope you’re going in there though with more than a wheel gun. If you’re not, then best of luck.” Mattock grabbed his stuff. Midway through the door, Cassie called after him to wait.

  She threw her doe eyes at Henry. “Baby, can’t we just check it out today? We can always come back. I’ve heard stories. I don’t think we should run around in there on our own.” They both glanced out the window to gauge the truth. The woods sat black and barren and Mattock could have sworn he saw them both shiver at the sight of it.

  Mattock watched Henry wrestle with the decision, then Cassie put the nail in. “For me, baby? Please?” Henry caved and put the gun back in his duffle bag.

  “Good,” Mattock said. “Now fill your water bottles. ‘Cuz there ain’t none in the black woods.”

  * * *

  Mattock led them down the inky path. Before they reached the edge of the thicket, he heard the complaints.

  “Eww, it smells like death and asphalt.” Cassie waved a hand in front of her face then held her nose. “Do you have masks or something? That smell is probably toxic.”

  Mattock grumbled to himself and soldiered on, enjoying how much worse it would get for them. He imagined how black those pressed khakis were about to become and the earful Henry would endure on the plane ride home. It would take them weeks of scrubbing before she got all the tar stain off her.

  They strolled up to where the green stopped and the corrupt woods began. It was as if someone had coated the forest with black enamel paint. Trees twisted and bent before them, stretching out for light and begging for life. It was a fruitless gesture. A thick and permanent cloud hung over the blackened land like a sheet draped over a rotting corpse.

  Cassie stopped in her tracks, eyeing the strange landscape. “I don’t know, baby. Something’s not right.”

  “Oh, c'mon, Cass. I thought you wanted some adventure in your life.”

  “I do, but this… this doesn’t feel right.”

  Mattock understood where Cassie was coming from. Everything in there was wrong. It felt rotten to the deepest part of his soul, and every time he approached it, he wanted to throw up. If he was lucky, these two might change their mind. That was fine by him – there were no refunds. Mattock smiled to himself. It might be a short day after all.

  “We’ve come this far. Let’s go a little further.” Henry waved her over to follow. Cassie teetered closer, still not convinced. A wind whistled through the dead branches and her eyes darted across the thicket, searching for reassurances.

  Slick, sticky, wet ground sloshed under Mattock’s feet, each step trying to hold him down. He heard their footsteps following.

>   * * *

  The light refracted in odd ways inside the black wood. Shadows no longer represented their source, and murky shafts of light seemed to stretch and bounce through the branches. The air itself felt claustrophobic and stale.

  They advanced through a landscape that evolved from black mud to black marsh. Cassie squealed as her new boots sank deep into the muck. Mattock had taken them so far in that the green behind them had disappeared. He stopped and peered around. Henry and Cassie paused with him.

  “What are we waiting for?” Henry snapped.

  “For a souvenir. Something should come through soon.”

  They waited. Henry scanned the dark sky for a prize. Time stretched on and the man grew impatient. “I thought we’d be on a boar chase or something. Have you ever hunted elephant in Africa? That’s an experience. This? A fucking snoozefest. Everything is dead.”

  “It’s so quiet,” Cassie whispered, hugging herself tight as she shivered. “Where are the birds? Not even the sound of leaves rustling.”

  “There’s nothing happening here.” Henry kicked at the mud in disappointment. “Let’s go further in.”

  Mattock was only willing to take them this far. This was considered a safe distance in his experience, but his muscles still tensed, eyes laser focused on any movement. Any farther and this wouldn’t be a babysitting gig. No, they’d wait until some mutated creature flew by or crawled up out of the muck, shoot it, and then be on their way back.

  Henry trod a circle in the sludge. “This would be much easier if I knew what we were hunting for. There’s nothing here!”

  Mattock didn’t answer. He took a swig from his water bottle and kept his eyes on the horizon.

  “My buddy got one of those worm things mounted on his wall, I don’t remember what it’s called. It looks like a giant black maggot as big as my thigh. Big green fangs as long as my fingers. Have you ever seen one? Where do we find those?”

  Mattock had seen one once. He was with a group of tar mercs on a rescue mission. A mile and a half in and they were fighting for their lives. One of those maggot things jumped up out of the silt and bit a merc on the hand. Didn’t think much of it at the time. Tried to treat it in the field. By the time they got back to the way station the skin around the wound became ashen and spread up to the guy's elbow. The forearm was veiny with red welts bubbling up and chunky puss oozing out. At the hospital, the doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong. Had to cut that arm off. Apparently, a science lab has it now. The severed limb still moves. Claws at the air like it’s still alive.

  The black maggot that bit the guy was as big as Mattock’s thumb. “Nope, never seen one. And I don’t know where they are.” The memory still made him nauseous and beads of sweat collected at his temples.

  “Well, this is bullshit,” Henry said. “I shoulda hired my buddy’s guide. I knew it.”

  “Why didn't you?”

  Henry’s lack of reply told Mattock what he suspected. That guide was dead. Mattock eyed the horizon, waiting, hoping something would fly by.

  “Fuck this,” Henry said as he marched past Mattock.

  “Hey! Hey! Where you think you’re going?”

  “I didn’t come all this way and spend all this money to stare at trees. I came to hunt, and that’s what I’ll do.” Henry yanked the pistol from his pocket and pushed further into the woodland.

  “Baby! Wait! What are you doing?!” Cassie chased after Henry.

  Mattock closed his eyes and cursed their stupidity and his own luck. If he walked away right now, he was certain he would never hear from them again. But then he’d have to deal with the questions from the police, and after that word would get around that he was getting innocent tourists killed. That would put a big dent in his extra income. Or he could go after them and save two idiots who didn’t know what they were getting into, putting his own life at risk.

  For Mattock the answer was easy. He turned and stormed back toward the way station to bunk down for the night and catch up on some sleep, imagining how comfortable that cot would be.

  Mattock eyed and cherished the green on the horizon when Cassie’s shrill scream pierced the vacuum of the black woods behind him. It cut into Mattock’s brain so hard that it froze him in his tracks. His body tensed, hand gripping his Fostech. He cursed, spun on his heel, and ran in their direction.

  * * *

  Mattock hustled through the woods. Three gunshots and another shrill scream echoed through the oppressive air. What did they run into? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  He crested a black hill that rose out of the marsh and discovered Cassie, covered in black tar, aiming the gun at Henry. No, not Henry, the thing holding Henry. It had a milky white tentacle wrapped around Henry’s chest, lifting him three feet off the ground. The creature, whatever it was, remained under the marsh, but a second tentacle lashed out at Cassie. She fired two more shots. Both missed their mark.

  “Cassie! Back here!” Mattock shouted.

  “Help! Help!” she screamed as she crawled through the black liquid.

  Fuck, I need a bigger gun.

  Mattock knew he’d need some serious firepower and pulled out a disc that held eighty rounds of triple-aught buck. He latched it onto the Fostech, which now looked like some kind of Tommy gun on steroids. He quickly aimed and blasted five rounds into the second arm, sending it flailing. The tentacle clutching Henry thrashed. His screams of agony silenced as he was yanked under the tainted water.

  Mattock rushed to the frothing black liquid only to discover a lake of black tar sprawled before him. He toed the edge, only daring to go in ankle deep, gun muscled into his shoulder.

  “Shit. Shit. Shit,” Mattock said to himself. “I shoulda’ kept on to the way station.”

  “Where did he go?! Save him!” Cassie screamed.

  “I’m tryin’! Shaddup!” Mattock swatted at her to be silent. He peered into the lake, realizing the top layer was a translucent blackish-green. Heavier black tar floated a foot below that and made it impossible to view further.

  He waded in up to mid-calf. The wet ground shifted under his feet. The water rippled and refracted the barren trees that now looked like deathly claws reaching toward him. A low rumble reverberated through the depths of the water and a terror stabbed into his heart.

  Air bubbles belched through the surface and Mattock snapped his aim to it, but nothing else came after it. Was that Henry’s last scream?

  A full minute had passed, or had it been ten? Cassie’s rhythmic sobs filled the silence. He inched forward one more step—

  The water exploded, knocking him off his feet. Four white tentacles surged from the water, whipping around searching for him. He aimed the gun and fired. Click. He glanced at the gun; the firing mechanism was caked in thick black tar. Fuck me. A tentacle thrashed toward him, and Mattock whipped his machete out and severed the thing as it went for his face. The white squirmy arm separated from its host and splashed back into the lake. The rest of the creature reacted with violent convulsions. This time Henry emerged with a huge gasp. The white tentacle still wrapped his chest, but was now spiraling around his neck, the nubby end sliding up the side of his face. Henry’s eyes were wide, his pupils pinpricks in comparison. Mattock caught sight of blue and green veins through the tentacle’s milky, translucent skin as Henry screamed.

  Mattock lunged into the fray of whipping tendrils, swinging the blade like a madman. He ducked, weaved, and slashed, fighting his way to Henry. Mattock cut at the tentacle enveloping Henry with a sickly ca-chunk. Another swing and the tentacle gave way. Henry dropped back into the tar water. Mattock felt the liquid suck and surge as the creature leapt into the air and revealed itself. At that moment, through webs of black splashing tar, Mattock got a brief glimpse at the thing, but couldn’t comprehend it.

  Two eyes stared back at him. Human eyes. Looking at him in either shock or awe. A gaping mouth lay underneath. Mattock’s view widened, and he realized he wasn’t looking at the beast’s face. He was looking at its stomac
h. Three more heads were next to the first. Eyes closed and puffy, chunks of their flesh bobbing around in the viscous fluid. For a millisecond, Mattock could have sworn one of them blinked.

  The creature splashed down into the tar water and swam off. Mattock dragged Henry out, the severed tentacle still clinging to him.

  Cassie appeared and helped drag Henry onto the hill as he moaned in pain. He clutched the tentacle wrapped around him and stifled a scream. His coiffed hair was now matted, his whole body coated in black as if dipped in a vat of black crude.

  Cassie tried to pry the tendril free but Henry recoiled in more pain.

  “Wait!” Mattock pulled a flare out of his pack, struck the end and sparked it to phosphorescent red. He pressed the burning tip into the tentacle and it squealed, though it had no mouth to squeal from. The pale appendage writhed and released Henry, curling up and rolling to the side, dead.

  Henry shuddered. The tentacle had left a pattern of holes that were now oozing blood.

  “Oh my God, baby! Are you ok? Henry? Are you ok?!” Cassie hovered over him, trying to comfort him but not wanting to touch him.

  Mattock looked from Henry to the curled tentacle. He kicked it to make sure it was dead, then burned it with the flare again. Nothing. He picked up the white wormy arm and examined the suction cups on the underside. With some mild pressure he exposed a three-pronged barb, that looked like three fish hooks bound at the spine. He pulled a black garbage bag from his pack and threw the tentacle in. He might make extra cash off this sample if the scientists didn’t have this specimen already. Today wasn’t a complete loss.

  “We need to get him to a hospital. Now!”

  Mattock looked Cassie in the eyes. He knew there was nothing a hospital could do. For thirty years the best of humanity had studied this place, and the only thing they’d discovered was nothing followed the laws of science in here. If there was an injury it always led to an infection, and there was no cure. When you came to the black woods you either survived, or you didn’t.