Heart of the Resonant- the Soldier's Tale

by B. C. Handler

  I gave Meriel’s toes a gentle wiggle, and then urged her on with a wave, Fell aptly translating. After a second, her toes wiggled as they should.

  Okay, that’s good.

  Supporting the heel, I grabbed her foot and tested the flexion with a slow push and pull. Plantar flexion looked good, despite earning a strained grunt from her; had it been broken, she’d be screaming bloody murder. However, on dorsiflexion, she uttered a cry through clenched teeth. But that’s to be expected from a sprained ankle.

  Looking back where we walked, I could see a round stone poking out from the ground where leaves had masked it before.

  I pulled my bag over and got the medkit out. The elastic bandage went on first, and once I had it secured, I used the medical tape to give her more rigid support.

  Finished, I set her leg on my thighs and massaged her calf. “Couldn’t have watched you step, huh? Careless bitch,” I said in a light tone.

  Meriel sniffed and gave me a thankful smile, Fell doing the same.

  Tylenol and elevating her foot was the only course for now. Since we’re stuck, I got the other sleeping bag and mat out and got the girls comfortable. Standing up, my back throbbed, feeling more knotted than rope on a pirate ship. There was only a small handful left of the over-the-counter pain relief; Meriel was going to need it more.

  Expelling my aches with a sigh, I busied myself with the stretcher, modifying it by adding another stick for the cross-section, then slipping the tarp lower, so I had more length for the handlebars. In no time at all, I converted the stretcher to a sled. The fox-girl wasn’t going to like the ride, but tough.

  I gave the area a slow three-sixty. Trees. Nothing but fucking trees. Even so, it’d be better to walk out a little, lest we miss even a tiny pond. Getting the girls’ attention, I pantomimed: I’m going to scout ahead. Stay put.

  Fell picked up right away and saved Meriel the trouble of thinking, something that I’ve noticed isn’t her strong suit. The elf bunched her lips up, and then looked down at her foot, then back to me. She turned away, letting her hair fall to hide her face. She muttered something, perhaps an apology for making this exponentially harder.

  My face remained neutral when I nodded to Fell. Turning heel, I started in an arbitrary direction.

  Once I was a good distance away, I slammed my fist into the nearest tree, knocking off a section of white bark and displacing some leaves. The muscles and tendons in my fist clenched so hard that it took a few seconds to relax once my wave of frustration passed. Taking in a deep breath, I sat down with my back to the tree.

  For several minutes, I just sat there, ripping clumps of grass out with one hand while drumming the fingers of the other against the magazine well of my rifle.

  A raging tempest of thoughts clouded my mind; each thought a gale so strong that it could send an egg through a concrete wall. More agonizingly slow minutes passed before everything droned away.

  Belatedly, I realized I was staring at my rifle with longing.

  “Not yet,” I whispered, then sat still until this mental storm passed.

  ✽✽✽

  Progress was even slower with the new arrangement. Dragging Fell along the bumpy forest floor was doing a number on my arms. The first hour they burned like I forgot to put on sunscreen; after three hours, it just felt like lead weights were hanging from my shoulders. My legs were begging me to dump Fell and both rucksacks.

  Meriel offered to carry the second rucksack, but the extra load would throw off her already compromised balance. She could barely keep up with my sluggish pace, even with the crutch I made from a branch with a Y-shaped fork. If she falls and makes her ankle worse, then she wouldn’t be able to walk at all.

  Been through the Forge and survived two tours in Syria. This is nothing. Just a happy hike through some exotic woods.

  The optimistic thoughts did little to detract from my sweat-soaked shirt, the chaffing vest, and the straps of the rucksacks cutting into my shoulders like wire through a block of cheese. My own acrid, sweaty musk filled my nostrils as I trudged along. Only iron could be tasted on my dry palette, making me wonder if I had bitten my tongue or something at some point. Honestly, the last few hours went by in a haze as I set myself to autopilot.

  That was probably the greatest thing the Army taught me: shut down all the non-important parts of my brain and focus on the immediate task at hand.

  One heavy breath in, one heavy breath out; right foot, then left foot; eyes forward, searching for some fucking water.

  Water.

  A knot formed my throat, making it feel like I was trying to swallow a rock. A splash of water would be nice; I damn well earned it. Currently, however, we were navigating down a slope. The terrain was becoming more uneven, hills rising to our flanks as we descend deeper into the forest. It was difficult to see through the thick canopy, but I could make out the sight of a mountain peak off in the distance to where we were heading. Eventually, we should get to where the two geographical landforms meet: a valley. The forest is too lush and green for there not to be a large body of water nearby.

  Once we get further down, I’ll reward myself. New mini goal: get down the hill.

  I stumbled and almost lost myself, getting surprised yelp from Fell. I caught myself before falling, and then stood still as my breaths became ragged affairs. A minute should be enough to catch my breath.

  When that minute passed, breathing became much harder. Setting down the sled, I put my hands on my head and focused on breathing. Meriel appeared by my side, speaking frantically and giving me a worried look.

  “Don’t… speak… elf… moron,” I said between gasps.

  I tilted my head back and stared at the sky, fighting for oxygen. It was then when the canopy started to spin, the light fading away as if the sun was being dragged to the horizon by God. A second later, my legs went out from under me.

  ✽✽✽

  I opened my eyes to see Fell looming over me. One of her ears flicked once, and she greeted me with a warm smile. Smoke filled my nostrils. Lifting my head from Fell’s thighs, I saw a fire burning strongly in the center of the small clearing we were in.

  Meriel appeared with the canteen. She unscrewed the cap and held it near my lips as Fell propped my head up. Before I could even think about refusing, I had already taken in a long draw.

  Somehow, Meriel and Fell managed to haul me, and all of the gear down the hill where the land leveled out. But they probably took their time. The sky beyond the trees was the fading purple of dusk, meaning I was out for at least a few hours. They even took off my vest and—

  In a panic, I shot up, startling Fell and Meriel. However, my alarm died down once I saw my rifle just off to my side. Even my pistol was still holstered. I jumped again when I felt hands on my shoulders, and then I remembered who was behind me.

  Fell cooed gentle words, trying to pull me down, but I pulled away from her weak grasp. Both women watched me warily as if I’d drop dead. Then again, I pretty much did through their eyes.

  Dismissing their concern with a wave, I sat cross-legged and rubbed my face, taking stock of myself. Groggy, far more sore than usual, head throbbed steadily, and I just want to curl up and slip into a coma for a few years. Exhaustion snuck up far sooner than expected. Or I had overestimated myself. Everything flashed back before my eyes, a miracle that even I managed to survive— all of us.

  Fell was a lot more capable now, but she has lost the bright luster she seemed to radiate since the initial encounter, her milky skin looking far too pale. Meriel has been holding up, but she was starting to collect heavy bags under her eyes.

  Sighing, I shifted off the sleeping bag and turned my attention to Fell. Simply, I pointed to her, and then down at the empty spot. She was about to start miming her protest, but I held out my hand.

  “Just get in the fucking sleeping bag,” I said without heat.

  Fell’s brain interpreted what I said into something endearing and took my hand. Once she was tucked in, I checked
her forehead. Still hot, but not dangerously so.

  Meriel put up a bit of a fuss, but per usual, Fell quelled her. After getting the other sleeping bag from the rucksack ready, I propped the sack under her bad ankle and gave it a look. Not looking any better. Not looking worse, either. Good so far.

  With them settled, I turned my attention to my rifle. When I fell face first, the barrel sank into the ground up until the foregrip. The front sight’s dirty, but not broken, so there’s that.

  There was a mostly flat rock on the other side of the fire, so I decided to set up there. A little elevation would make it easier for my back.

  Christ. I’m twenty-one and bitching about my back like I’m eighty.

  I used my jacket as a mat and started to field strip the M4. After clearing the weapon, I pulled the rear take-down pin out, and the whole upper receiver pivoting forward on the front take-down pin. Lastly was the bolt carrier assembly and the charging handle; no need to do a complete teardown.

  As I got the bore brush and cable out, I caught Meriel staring. She didn’t say anything, or gestured, just smiled. Ignoring her, I got the snake brush in the breach and started to push it through, only for it to refuse to go any further after several inches. Great. The dirt inside the barrel was packed tight. Back when Dad was in the army, he got a proper cleaning rod.

  If it’s not broken, don’t change it.

  Frustration pooled within me as I tried to force the brush through down the barrel. The anger at the dirt helped keep my mind off of how screwed we were. My stomach had constantly been growling, and even after the girls offered me a generous amount of water, I was still thirsty. I felt awful. And it was only going to get worse.

  A couple chunks of dirt fell from the barrel after a hard push, and that small ounce of success was enough my head in order.

  I deal with it as it comes — one thing at a time.

  Leaves crunching made me think one of the girls got up for something. When I looked, both of them were still prone, and both were looking off into the dark forestry behind them. Stopping what I was doing, I went still and cocked an ear toward where the sound came. Only the crackling of the fire and the occasional sigh from the wind. Did a branch break off?

  Fell started coughing then. Her face scrunched up in disgust, and she clutched both hands over her nose, saying some muffled response. Meriel tilted her head and took a deep whiff of the air, but then shook her head after responding. The two did some back and forth, and finally, Fell looked at me and pointed to the area behind them.

  Is something back there?

  Something’s back there!

  I drew my pistol and dug into my rucksack for the flashlight. Taking slow, methodical steps past the girls, I clicked on the flashlight and illuminated the area beyond the fire’s range: more trees, and just blackness beyond my light’s narrow beam. I looked over my shoulder; Meriel crouched over Fell with a dagger drawn, her gaze panning the area in steady passes. Turning my attention back to the forest, I stepped out a little further, pistol trained to where the flashlight parted the darkness.

  Only there was nothing.

  A rotten branch must’ve finally snapped or something. Forests make noise, not much of a surprise there. Tension fading, I lowered my pistol and sighed, upset at myself for making my headache worse.

  As I was about to turn back, my light passed over something that caused a glimmer. Adjusting the beam, I caught some sort of floating circle with a yellowish tinge—something hanging in a tree? I stepped near the tree in question, and the light illuminated an identical floating disc, maybe six inches apart. Before getting the chance to determine what the hell they were, they flickered for a second. And after a short moment, they did it again.

  They blinked.

  Heart thrashing in my ears, I aimed and backed away with leaves crunching under my boots. The eyes followed me.

  I desperately wanted to start firing at the glowing orbs, but then I realized they were floating something like ten feet off the ground. Whatever it was, it was big, really big. And it stunk to high heaven.

  I continued to walk backward in a slow gait, hoping to fire would offer some light on whatever the hell it was. Instead, all I saw was a wide walking shadow with a pair of glowing eyes, the form somehow blacker than the backdrop of night.

  Remembering who was near the fire, I adjusted my course and veered away, hoping that the shadowy monster would follow. The girls grew deathly still as the dark creature followed.

  The thing was bipedal, stocky, like the result of when a polar bear and a nightmare got busy. Whatever it was, it was fairly sedate, the thing just staring at me curiously, more than likely deciding if I was edible. If I can just keep everything to slow, careful movements, I could clear the muzzle, reassemble, load a magazine, charge a round, and then pop one or thirty rounds between Yogi the Nightmare’s eyes.

  Easy peasy.

  The thing stopped before I did. And much to my dismay, I heard it sniffing, tasting the air before it turned to face the girls.

  “Hey bear, hey bear!” I called, earning not even a glance as it shuffled closer to the injured elf and sick fox-woman.

  Holding a breath to steady my shaking hands, I fired off six shots into the back of the bear’s head. Instead of dropping, it turned to face me, one hairy paw rubbing the back of its neck as if taking care of an itch. Stunned, I blinked a couple times before sighting in and popping off the last nine rounds into its face.

  That got a rise out of the creature. What followed was a voicerfierious roar like a revving monster truck. The teeth from the monster-bear’s gaping maw were such a pure white that they appeared to glow in the faint light.

  The thing charged. Forgoing a reload, I threw myself to the side and scrambled toward the rock with my gear. In a frantic scramble, I grabbed the edges of the jacket and scooped everything up and rushed away from where the monster was just a few paces behind. I made it five steps before my boot caught on something, sending me into the earth with enough force to whisk away my breath.

  Turning over, I saw the fury monster descending over me.

  A dagger flew in from the side and nailed the monster-bear on the side of the head. Even though the tip landed first, the dagger bounced off its skull with a resonating chime. The monster dropped to all fours and shook its head, grunting at Meriel. The elf held her remaining dagger out as she shielded the fox-woman.

  Using the few extra seconds, I felt for the bolt carrier to assemble the rifle. Only it wasn’t there. Several frantic pats in the jacket and around ground served fruitless. I lost it in the panic.

  The bear roared and climbed to its full height as stomped over to the girls. I went for my knife, hoping I could help the girls by stabbing it in the spine.

  The campfire whooshed as it grew three times in volume, giving the area enough light and heat that I stumbled back to my side. The bear made noises of discomfort and ceased its advance. Fell was standing with her hands in the air, her wild hair fluttering from the heated flames.

  What the fuck am I looking at—?

  As I shifted to my side, I felt something stabbing my thigh. Padding my cargo pocket, my eyes went wide.

  The spare bolt carrier.

  No sooner than when I ripped the spare part from my pocket, the monster-bear roared and stepped onto the fire, stomping out the burning logs with a cloud of scorching embers. With the bolt seated, I joined the upper and lower receiver, smacked the magazine home, and chambered a round.

  Using the flashlight and dying flames of the fire, I sighted in on the form and begged that the barrel wouldn’t explode from the dirt.

  I squeezed the trigger, and the rifle kicked with a deafening crack. The monster roared, but it a shrill weak roar — the unmistakable cry of pain.

  The black mass whirled around, its eyes glowing brighter with anger. With a smug smirk, I sighted between the orbs and squeezed the trigger. Only nothing happened. After a rabid snarl, the thing charged, and I scrambled backward while trying to cl
ear the jam. The charging handle refused to move forward. With a violent smack, the reassuring click of a round getting delivered sounded.

  Then next thing that happened was me gasping when I stepped air and fell. The tumble brought me ass over tea kettle, my light flashlight flying out of my hand and twirling in the air, adding further confusion.

  The fall ended with me on my back. The flashlight had landed just off to the side, illuminating the surprise slope I fell down. Then a black shadow crossed the light’s beam. Switching to full auto, I unloaded into the roaring void, uttering my own roar as it blended with the scream of gunfire. Noises drowned away as darkness fell, completely consuming me.

  I was gone. Lost. Forever condemned into darkness. Heavy, smell darkness.

  Fuck, is hell supposed to smell this bad?

  I tried to breathe, only getting a mouthful of course hair and something so foul that I dry retched. A hand seized my own amidst my mad flailing of trying to get away from the smell. Cool air rushed into my lungs, freed from the heavy darkness. Meriel nearly choked me with a tight, shuddering embrace. She let out a mixture of laughter and sobs as she buried her face in my neck.

  “We’re okay,” I wheezed, then wrapped my arms around her, relishing in our survival.

  Fell appeared on my other side, the flashlight in one hand while the other squeezed my shoulder. The elf brought her friend in on the hug, and Fell melted between us. Once a few minutes passed, I eased the girls away and took the flashlight back. The bear-monster was dead; its head twisted towards me, tongue hanging from its terrifying maw of pointed teeth.

  Somehow I managed to fire off all twenty-nine rounds without another jam before that thing pounced. It probably died before it even hit the ground. But it reeked like it’s been dead for a week already.

  Wrinkling my nose and fighting another retching fit, I helped the girls to stand. Meriel managed to rise, but Fell couldn’t. Navigating the slope must’ve been too much for her. Still, I can’t quite believe she toughed it out to see if I was alive. While adrenaline still dampened my pain, I scooped up Fell and carried her bridal style, her surprisingly soft tail caught between my hand and the back of her knee.