by Dave Hazel
A couple of the new men looked to Ratner as if to ask if it was true. “Oh yeah. It happened.”
Even Captain Diaz couldn’t hide the humor the memory brought up though at the time he was totally against killing the Goblins just for the sake of killing them. He saw the men needed to have a good laugh.
“To say the Goblins were pissed off is an understatement,” Finley added to the laughter.
“Alright men, let’s move out and we’ll keep extra alert gentlemen,” Captain Diaz shouted and tried to hide the smile on his face.
“Whadda ya gonna do?” Mykal responded with a laugh. “It was a great prank,” he said and thought of his close friends who found it humorous. Boris and Jake laughed wildly over a typical ‘Mykal Prank’. He missed them.
Mykal walked to the rear where he and Towbar had been walking with the others to be part of the rear guard. They hadn’t gone fifteen minutes when there was a commotion in the middle of the formation.
“Medic, medic. Someone hurry,” a voice yelled from the middle of the pack.
Everyone dropped to one knee and looked in all directions to keep from being blind-sided. Mykal and Towbar rushed to where some of the men gathered. Sergeant Overman collapsed and lay on his back. One of the men felt for a pulse, but Mykal could see by the lifeless, colorless expression in his sunken face that Overman passed away. It crushed Mykal. He could have taken Overman back to the Pass and had the doctors treat him. His fear of the ‘Hollywood zombie’ tales scared him into keeping Overman a prisoner of his sickness. True, many of the men fueled the fear with their talk of zombies and movies of zombies but he could have taken Overman and Klein back to be treated.
“Awh damn it,” Mykal sighed and felt guilty. He knew Overman was afraid of how the men viewed him. “Is he?” Mykal asked and didn’t want to say the word ‘dead’. “Is he gone?”
Sergeant Nikopolous nodded his head from the kneeling position. “There is no pulse Myk.” Nikopolous’s somber tone made it clear. “He’s gone Sir.”
“What happened? Did he say how he was feeling?” Mykal asked the Greek American Green Beret just as Diaz and Finley made it to them.
“He was having a hell of a time Mykal,” Nikopolous declared. “He was telling me that his insides were battling like there was a war going on inside him. I didn’t know what he was talking about and he said it felt like his organs were fighting with his other organs, if that makes any sense.”
“Humm,” Mykal sighed and wished he would have done more to help the kid.
Green Beret Sergeant White, another of the medics, moved beside Diaz and Finley. White automatically reached down to find a pulse. He shook his head to Finley and Diaz. “He’s gone Sir,” White confirmed.
Nikopolous continued to explain Overman’s last moments. “He said he didn’t understand how it was happening but he felt like his insides were dying. But the poor guy was afraid to bring it up cuz of all the damn talk of people turning into zombies. He said he was afraid everyone would kill him. I tried to tell him it wasn’t true and for him not to worry about that.”
“I wish we coulda done something for him,” Mykal sighed.
“I do know he didn’t want to let on how bad he was actually feeling,” Finley said and folded his arms across his chest while he stared down at the breathless body. “He really was afraid of what others thought of him,” Finley said with a deep relieving sigh. “His suffering is over. Well, let’s take what we can from him and we’ll depart,” he added and Diaz walked away.
Mykal nodded like he understood Diaz was upset by the death and deep inside he ached and wanted to break down for the poor kid. He should have done more to help him. “We gotta be watchful and make sure we don’t allow anyone to get attacked by those people if they come around here again,” Mykal said in reference to the ‘zombies’ that everyone talked about. He wanted to talk with Sergeant Klein to see how he was doing and to assure him that they would do everything they could to get him help after they were outside the mountain.
“Mykal, I’ve known Overman for about a year and a half now,” Nikopolous said sadly. “I met him about the time he got married. His wife is a really nice lady, but she wanted him to get out of the military when his time was up. And she definitely didn’t want him to volunteer to come to Towbar’s world. She didn’t want him to be gone for any extended period of time. She agreed to let him go because it was something he really wanted to do and she wanted to be supportive. He agreed to get out of the Army when his time was up since she allowed him to volunteer to be a part of Towbar One. That poor girl is going to be heart broken. I mean, I know, all family members of those who die will be heart broken, but she really didn’t want him to stay in the military and now this.”
In the brief silence those standing there heard a low growl as if someone exhaled a last breath. They all looked down at Overman. Another low growl escaped the motionless form. Overman’s eyes opened exposing dead, bloodshot eyes that looked clouded over. A louder growl came out between snarling expressions that bore his potentially threatening teeth. Overman turned his head to his oldest friend here in Towbar’s world, Sergeant Nikopolous. The look of demon possession in the angry dull eyes didn’t seem to recognize his friend.
“Whoa, what the hell?” Nikopolous yelled and stepped back.
Mykal knew by the look on Nikopolous that he didn’t recognize Overman. Overman was dead. This wasn’t Overman.
“He’s dead!” Sergeant White yelled and pointed a challenging finger to the corpse that started to move. “I checked him myself.”
“Oh my goodness,” Finley gasped and stepped back. “Is he okay?”
The hungry growl that escaped as Overman slowly turned to roll over seemed to answer the question.
“O-man, O-man,” Nikopolous shouted. It was his nickname and also his blood type. Nikopolous back stepped when Overman wouldn’t respond or acknowledge his name being shouted.
Others gathered around quickly to the yelling and the sense of fear being displayed amid the mini mayhem that started over the body of a dead man.
“Is he dead?” Mykal yelled and looked at White while he drew his .357 magnum. He didn’t want to make a mistake and shoot a man who was mistakenly diagnosed as being dead when all could clearly see the fact that Overman was rising from the ground. He also didn’t want to make the mistake of hesitating with a dead man rising like the zombies they battled earlier. “Is he friggin dead?” Mykal shouted again at White, the medic, who checked Overman’s pulse just minutes ago.
“Yes, he’s dead or he was dead,” White yelled and back peddled. He looked more terrified that Overman didn’t look like his normal self but more like someone pulled from under a coffin lid and reanimated for a prank on Halloween. The problem was the look in Overman’s dead eyes. Overman looked like he was going to attack the nearest person and they saw earlier that it was possible for a dead person to rise and attack to produce deadly results.
When the group grew larger Overman just got to his feet and looked ready to snap his jaws shut on the nearest person. Overman let out a loud snarling growl and his head seemed to shake violently. Several men tried to yell Overman’s name or call something out to him to get his attention. Like a rabid dog, the crazed expression wasn’t responding to anything being said.
Mykal saw the look in Diaz’s face when he returned. Captain Diaz looked like the rug had been pulled out from under him. Without waiting for someone to be injured Mykal fire two rounds into the back of Overman’s head. The sickly looking form collapsed to the ground in a heap face first. His arms were twisted oddly under his frame and blood flowed quickly from his massive wounds. Mykal stood there with both hands wrapped around his handgun and stood there pointing to the back of the bloodied head just in case he started to move again.
“What the friggin hell is going on here?” Mykal yelled. He was angry, and sad, and scared and fed up with being stuck under the mountain. He didn’t want to be the one to kill the dead man, but he wasn’t going
to risk another person being injured by these freak monsters. “I’m getting pissed off,” he bellowed while looking at the blood oozing from Overman’s head. “What’s going on here?”
One of the men finally nudged Overman’s foot. Nothing happened. Blood continued to flow from the two massive wounds to the back of the kid’s head. Murmuring started amongst the men and Mykal’s first thought was Sergeant Klein. ‘Whatta the other men gonna think about him since he was bit by those zombie things?’
“Oh man,” Nikopolous mumbled in sadness. “O-man was a good dude. He really was a good kid.”
Diaz closed his eyes and said nothing for a moment. He looked pained emotionally. He didn’t know what to say. He finally broke his silence amid all the men talking and grumbling. “We need to get out of here and we need to get out of here as soon as possible,” Captain Diaz said in a calm, controlled, manner.
“You heard the captain,” Ratner barked while Diaz walked off. “Git yer shit together ladies and move it. Now!” He snarled with real anger in his words.
Mykal stood there waiting to see if anyone was going to accuse him of killing a ‘dead man’. No one said anything. The men all rushed around to follow Ratner’s orders to depart. Mykal replaced the two rounds in his revolver slowly. He needed to think. He began to feel somewhat nauseous. He wasn’t sick, but his emotions were getting to him. He wanted to vanish to get away, but he knew that wouldn’t resolve anything.
“What troubles you my friend?” Towbar asked as Mathis and the Dosch brothers rushed to them.
“I don’t friggin know anymore,” he sighed and slammed the revolver into the leather holster. “We gotta worry about these friggin zombies, if that’s what they are and then we came across a bunch of dead Goblins so there’s gotta be a bunch of Goblins around here too and who knows what the hell killed them. So now we gotta worry about another kind of army or maybe they were killed by Ziggy’s troops.”
“And don’t forget the AFAs,” Mathis said to be humorous referring to the Area 51 Aliens that caused the zombies to attack in the first place.
“Yeah, thanks radio boy,” Mykal said with a sarcastic laugh. “That’s right, we got all kinds of shit we gotta worry about in here,” he said and paused. He was glad Mathis made his comment because that broke the tension and lifted the heavy emotional weight he felt was crushing him.
“And then we might get hit with some flying dinosaurs too,” Randy added when he saw it helped lighten the mood.
“Oh yeah, cuz you know we might get some big ass Tare-ee-dak-tees flying in here at us at any time,” Roy Jr. added in reference to the two pterodactyls that attacked earlier. To be humorous Roy Jr. flapped his arms with each syllable of the word ‘tare-ee-dak-tees’ and he repeated the word a couple of times. “Tare-ee-dak-tees. Tare-ee-dak-tees. Or if it’s a goofy one, it would be Tare-oh duck-liss,” he said with a lisp causing them all to laugh despite the madness that seemed to fill the cavern.
“Though, to be honest though,” Mathis jumped in with his normal deadpan expression. “We have to admit, we brought that upon ourselves for throwing a flashlight at them. So as long as we don’t go throwing any flashlights we should be okay.”
Mykal started to laugh and wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t sure if it was the bizarre nature of their conversation right after the death and re-death of one of their team mates, or if his emotions were on overload with little sleep. He knew his emotions were all over the place and he was tired, besides being mentally exhausted. It didn’t help that the threat of death could present itself at every turn they took. He glanced down at the ring on the middle finger of his right hand and knew one day he would have to do something with it. He couldn’t bring himself to admit he needed to part with it for his own good. “One step at a time,” he whispered more to himself but they heard him.
“Alright, let’s get this column going,” Staff Sergeant Moreno yelled to the Marines who were slowly starting to move out.
In less than a half an hour, near the front of the column, there seemed to be a scuffle take place. A disturbance of some sort erupted. “No, what are you doing?” Lieutenant Finley bellowed and he sounded scared. “No, no, no please don’t,” he cried out desperately.
Suddenly there was a loud gunshot. It sounded like a handgun, one of the 9mm pistols.
“Awh damn it,” Ratner shouted. “What the hell is happening to us?” He added and his shout bore all his frustration as the senior NCO of the group.
The column stopped yet again and everyone dropped to a knee and took up defensive positions to keep from being caught off guard. Mykal, Towbar and several men ran to see what happened. Mykal couldn’t believe his eyes but he clearly understood what happened when he saw the scene. The body of Sergeant Klein lay on the ground. The back of his head had been blown out. A 9mm handgun was in Klein’s hand. He easily looked to be dead as blood flowed like a river from the back of his skull and from his wide open mouth.
Finley looked devastated with his hand pressed against his forehead. Diaz looked shocked and stared upward while he tried to massage the tightness out of his own neck and shoulders. Diaz fought to keep his composure and finally turned away. When Captain Diaz walked off he looked to be angrier than he had ever looked before.
“What happened?” Mykal broke the silence though it seemed obvious.
Finley let out a heavy sigh. “We were talking about Overman,” Finley said sadly and paused. “Klein was terrified that he would become one of the zombies. I told him not to worry about it and as soon as we got out from under this mountain we’ll go back to the Pass and get him checked out and helped by doctors. I told him what Nikopolous explained, that Overman said his insides were experiencing turmoil. His stomach was in a tremendous amount of unbearable pain. I thought he would be okay, Klein panicked and said he was starting to feel that also.”
“But wasn’t Klein bit in the leg?” Mykal asked.
“Yes, but he said he could feel the ‘bad stuff’ as he called it starting to take over inside him. He was afraid he was going to die and he knew for sure that if he died he would come back as one of those flesh eating monsters. I tried to calm him down and told him we’d get him checked out back in the Pass. He started to cry and grabbed onto me to hug me and I hugged him. He freaked out and grabbed my 9 mil out of my holster and backed away. He sobbed and said that he was sorry two or three times. He continued to cry and when he placed the barrel in his mouth, that’s when I yelled but he shot himself.” Finley paused and looked like tears were in his eyes. “I tried to stop him Myk, I really did.”
“I know you did,” Mykal said for lack of anything else to say. He didn’t know how to comfort the large tough Green Beret who looked like a rough and tumble professional football player. He clearly saw that Finley was on the verge of tears and he wished Diaz would have stayed there to say something to help him in his uncomfortable awkwardness.
Others gathered around and couldn’t believe the sight of Klein laying there with an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound to his head through his mouth.
Gunnery Sergeant Ratner, the tough, hardened, warrior looked softened by sadness. He too remained silent.
Mykal understood it was one thing to lose men in the heat of violent and vicious battles. But to lose a brother warrior to self-inflicted wounds was devastating and hard in a different, quiet and crippling way.
“Tell Captain Diaz, I think we should get outta here,” Mykal said to break up the gathering of those staring at the remnants of a suicide.
“How the hell do I explain this to his wife and his parents?” Finley asked and his voice cracked through the words. He looked ready to break down but stood strong and held himself together.
“We’ll deal with this after,” Mykal said when some of the men seemed to stop and look at Finley as if they were watching to see how he would handle this situation. With a slight nod of his head Mykal tried to let Finley know the men were watching him.
“Thanks Mykal,” Finley said and cleared
his throat. “Okay men, let’s move out. We need to get out from under this damn hell hole of a friggin mountain.”
There was a loud screech which announced the return of Lanorear. Mykal looked to the front of the formation and saw where Lanorear landed and looked to speak with the Elves right away. Mykal hoped there wouldn’t be another problem.
“My friend, why do you think that man killed himself?” Towbar asked as they made their way to the rear with Mathis and the Dosch brothers.
“Honestly, I don’t know the guy that well,” Mykal answered and gave it a moment of thought. “But from what I think, I believe he was afraid he was going to turn into one of them zombie things, whatever those things are, that come back from the dead and attack real people. He didn’t want that to happen to him. He heard us saying that to kill a zombie you had to shoot them in the head. And damn it,” Mykal scoffed in anger. “That only came up cuz of what those guys were talking about when they brought up zombie movies from back home. Anyway, he didn’t want to die and come back as one of those things. So he put the pistol in his mouth and shot himself in the head by putting the barrel in his mouth so we wouldn’t have to shoot him in the head. I’m so friggin tired of all this stuff.”
“Nobody else was bitten by those things, were they?” Roy Jr. asked.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Hey Mykal,” Mathis interrupted them after he spoke on the radio. “Diaz and Finley are saying that Lanorear said we are not far from the exit. It should only be a few more hours.”
“Thank goodness,” Randy said and gave thumbs up to Mathis.