by Steven Bird
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 hell 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.
Remaining still, hoping they would pass, he remembered his rifle on the ground next to the tree. Just keep on moving, guys. Nothing to see here, he mused to himself in an attempt to stay as calm and relaxed as possible.
Just as the six-man team looked as if the
y would continue and pass through the area, one of them paused and signaled to the others.
Damn it! They see it.
The soldier worked his way over to the base of the tree, looked around at the macabre scene left by the coyotes, then leaned over and picked up Nate’s rifle, holding it up for the rest of his team to see.
Still using only hand signals, the group began to systematically scan the area and the man holding the rifle looked up into the tree, making direct eye contact with Nate.
“Howdy. Welcome to America,” Nate said, attempting to muster a friendly smile.
Immediately pointing his AK-74M at Nate, the soldier shouted, “Здесь, в дереве!”
A second soldier quickly ran to the side of his comrade and shouted in English up toward Nate’s position in the tree, “Throw down weapons!”
“He’s got my weapon,” Nate replied sarcastically while slowly showing them his empty hands.
“Climb down from tree! Now!” the man ordered in a stilted, heavy accent.
“I’m injured; please be patient,” Nate said, pointing to his blood-soaked pants.
“Climb down now, or I’ll shoot you down!” the man demanded, flipping the safety lever down on his rifle and aiming directly at Nate’s center mass.
“Okay, I’m coming,” Nate insisted as he began to work his way down through the branches, gritting his teeth in pain as he went.
Once within reach, the man jumped up and grabbed Nate’s boot, pulling him down hard to the ground.
Screaming in agony upon impact, Nate felt his wound tear open and begin to bleed again. “Damn it, ahhh hell!” he screamed as he writhed in pain.
The man shoved his knee into Nate’s stomach and forced his shoulders against the ground while the soldier who had found his rifle took both of his hands, extending them over his head and placing flex cuffs around his wrists.
Once secured, the man who’d shoved his knee into him released his pressure and began to search Nate’s person for hidden weapons or dangerous objects.
Pulling Nate’s knife from his belt, he tossed it aside and said something unintelligible to his comrades. Looking back down to Nate, the man, who was clean-shaven and appeared to be in his early thirties with short, blonde hair, said through gritted teeth, “Where are others?”
“What others?” Nate asked, only to feel the man’s hand slap him hard across the face.
“Do not toy with me, insurgent.”
“I’m not toying with you. I’m just not sure who you’re talking about. Are you referring to the cave people? They’ll find us soon enough if you keep yelling like that.”
“Cave people?” the man repeated, confused by Nate’s statement.
“Yeah, cave people. I don’t know what else to call them. I don’t know who or what they are, but they’re pretty damn vicious. They’re like beasts.”
“Look, hillbilly, we’re looking for UF patrol that went missing recently. If you help us find them, we will do what we can to help you with wounds. If you do not help us find them, we will tie you to tree, cut out tongue so you cannot scream for help, and leave you for wild animals to devour... alive. Now, tell me who you are with, where they are, and what you know of UF patrol.”
“Look, pal, I’m being honest here when I say I don’t know anything about a patrol, but I do know that the creepy bastards I’m trying to warn you about are more than capable of taking out your patrol, as well as the one you’re looking for. They operate in a very unconventional manner. Almost like a pack of wild animals. They hit you before you even know they’re there.”
Looking Nate over, the man snarled and asked, “Where is leg?”
“I think it ended up right over there,” Nate answered, gesturing toward a tall patch of weeds near the base of the tree.
“You carry rifle popular with insurgents. Who are you with?” the man demanded again.
“That rifle? Hell, the AR-15 is popular with all Americans. Its presence doesn’t indicate affiliation with a certain group,” Nate replied. “It just means I found a good deal at Walmart back before the collapse.”
Reaching out and taking Nate’s rifle from his comrade, the man looked it over, and said, “This is U.S military issued M4, not civilian AR-15. Where did you get rifle?”
“Look, man. When it all started falling apart, the rules didn’t seem to matter much. A lot of former government weapons began circulating around. I just happened to come across this one at a swap meet.”
Glaring at Nate, the man declared, “You speak in circles with no truth. I can see you do not want things to go easy for you.”
“Look, if you think I’m some sort of wanted outlaw, then please, by all means, arrest me and take me back to your base. They’ll sort it all out there. Let’s just get the hell out of these woods before they come.”
“Before who come?”
“Them!” Nate shouted. “I’m telling you, you don’t want them to find you. I’d much rather be arrested by you and charged with whatever crime you want to charge me with than found by them, again.”
Standing up, the man walked away from Nate and joined his four other comrades. They discussed something amongst themselves while the younger man who’d found Nate’s rifle stood watch over him.
“You need to convince your team to get us the hell out of here,” Nate whispered. “You don’t wanna be here when they come.”
The young man, appearing to be in his early twenties, kicked Nate with his boot to shut him up.
Once the man who appeared to be in charge finished discussing the situation with the rest of his team, he turned and was walking back toward Nate when the sound of a horn could be heard off in the distance, echoing through the hills. The eerie sound triggered the man to stop and listen.
“That’s them!” Nate said. “It’s too late to run. They’ll just pick you off one at a time. I highly recommend you set up a defensive perimeter and prepare to hunker down for a fight. It’s coming, whether you want to acknowledge what I’m saying as the truth or not.”
Giving out orders in what appeared to be Russian, the man directed his young comrade in arms who was guarding Nate to tie him to the tree Nate had spent the night in.
Grumbling to himself, Nate wasn’t pleased with the turn of events. He knew Britney’s abductors would soon be upon them, and he did not look forward to being helplessly tied to a tree while the UF soldiers were slaughtered all around him.
The younger man, along with one of the others, stood on each side of Nate and picked him up underneath his arms. As they carelessly dragged him to the tree, Nate gritted his teeth from the pain the rough handling was causing him.
Reaching the base of the tree, Nate’s hands were untied and pulled around the tree behind him, where he was re-secured from behind. This ain’t good, Nate thought as he worried about the possible outcomes of either being attacked or abandoned in his current state. Either way, he knew the deck was stacked against him.
~~~~
“There,” Britney said, pulling the bandage tightly around Yuri’s head. “That should at least keep it clean until we can get you somewhere to treat you properly. How’s your side?”
“Better than before,” Yuri said with a smile. “Thank you for taking care of me. Shotgun blast must have merely grazed me. It hurt so badly, and bled so much, I thought it was direct hit. I thought I should be dead by now.”
Pausing what she was doing and looking him directly in the eye, Britney said, “You could have just left me there, chained to the floor in that wretched hell hole. You could have easily gotten out of there on your own. But you didn’t. You put your own escape in jeopardy to get me out of there. I’ll be forever in your debt for that. I haven’t had many people in this world I could count on. You… you have no idea…”
Reaching out and wiping the tear from her cheek, Yuri sighed, “If we not meet in cave, you would not like me. You… you would hate me.”
“I don’t care who you were when you entered that cave, Yuri… um,
I don’t even know your last name,” she admitted, looking him squarely in the eye.
“Kovalenko,” he replied with a smile.
“So, as I was saying, Yuri Kovalenko, I don’t care who you were when you entered that cave. I don’t care what you did, where you're from, or who you served. When you came out of that cave, you arose as my hero. You put your life on the line for me, and I will never forget that or be able to repay you.”
Amazed at her statement, Yuri couldn’t help but flash back through his memories of the training he’d received about the current state of the U.S. and the insurgency he was here to fight. He thought about the selfless way her rescuers had sacrificed themselves fighting his own kind to get her away from the murderous ambitions of the very cause he had served so faithfully. These insurgents did not seem like domestic terrorists, intent on hampering recovery efforts. The people Britney had spoken of seemed more like her fellow countrymen, who were heroically coming to her aid.
Unsure about what the truth really was anymore, Yuri looked Britney in the eyes and said softly, “You have already repaid me.”
Sitting up, Yuri looked around and declared, “Okay, we go now.”
“Go where?” she asked. “I can’t go back with you. I can’t. I just can’t.”
“Then we go somewhere else. Somewhere you can be safe,” he explained. “I will not take you back to camps. I promise you that.”
Looking into his eyes, Britney began to smile as her feelings of elation were quickly doused with fear. She saw Yuri’s smile extinguish as his eyes darted around quickly. Reaching for the shotgun with his right hand, realizing it was just out of reach, he shoved her aside with his left hand and dodged to his right.
Britney could feel the disruption of the air as an arrow flew by her face, missing her by mere inches. As she fell to the ground, she saw Yuri charge the fur-covered man who had been behind her, blocking his attempt to nock another arrow.
The large, ominous figure, covered in animal fur from head to toe, kicked Yuri hard in the chest, knocking him backward and onto the ground.