Mykal's Return to Towbar's World

by Dave Hazel

  Mykal holstered his pistol and grabbed his rifle. He rushed to the middle of the village where a ruckus took place. Creatures like wolves were attacking his men with clubs and his men were shooting the wolf like creatures. Mykal was stunned that the beasts used weapons to beat on some of the motionless bodies littering the ground. They didn’t bite the men, they clubbed their victims. Mykal raised his rifle and at his feet laid the body of a wolf looking creature that had already been shot. Limbs were kicking wildly and it whimpered like a dog that had been struck by a car.

  The creature’s jaws snapped near his leg. With a squeeze of the M-16 trigger the head of the animal jerked back. The animal died and no longer posed a threat. All the limbs ceased movement, the whimpering stopped, the light of the eyes died, and the long tongue flopped on the ground between clamped jaws.

  Dizziness attacked Mykal again and his legs started to buckle. He had to hold himself against a wooden table to keep from stumbling. He didn’t want to imagine what would have happened to him if he’d taken more than a sip of the potent drink. He realized the sole purpose of the food and drink was to immobilize them so they could become a victim, possibly a meal for the wolves masquerading as little children.

  Gunshots continued to ring out. Commands were shouted by Diaz, Finley and Jake. Mykal dropped to one knee to keep from falling over. He wanted to help but a new wave of sedation kicked in. Mykal feared shooting his people by mistake.

  While struggling on one knee, Boris staggered by him with one of the foul fiends clinging onto his back. The brute chomped at and tried to bite into Boris’s back but Boris managed to shake and keep the monster from digging fangs into his flesh.

  The wolf like creature held onto Boris with one paw and pounded its other boney paw onto his back until Boris fell to the ground. Boris looked over his shoulder to see what the attacker might do since he couldn’t pull himself up. The monster didn’t bite into Boris but rather it wrapped its claws around his throat in an attempt to strangle him.

  Mykal jumped to his feet and staggered to his friend’s aid. He used his rifle as a club and swung the butt of the rifle into the snout of the beast. With a yelp it let go of Boris and snapped at Mykal. Before the thing could right itself and attack him Mykal turned his rifle and fired three shots into the wiry form.

  “Boris, are you okay?”

  “I don’t know,” Boris replied. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. “It clawed me and I’m bleeding.”

  “Can you fight?” Mykal asked and felt a sluggish heaviness dragging him down when he turned to rush to the center of the little village.

  “I don’t know,” Boris moaned slowly.

  Mykal didn’t wait for Boris. He rushed to where fighting still took place. Mykal felt like he was moving in slow motion. His legs just didn’t seem to move the way he wanted them to. From what he saw, the wild beasts didn’t try to eat their victims. They beat on the unresponsive bodies with their boney fists or with an object. Some clawed, but none seemed to be biting. Mykal assumed they must wait until their prey is dead before they feast.

  Mykal made it to one of his men laid out with a creature pounding his fists onto the comatose man. The creature growled and spit saliva in all directions. Mykal grabbed the animal by the fur on the back of the neck and yanked it off the man. Just as he turned to shoot the creature, Mykal got attacked from behind.

  The thing that jumped on his back almost knocked him to the ground but he fought to steady himself. Reflexively he reached over his back and grabbed the creature by the fur on the back of its head and flipped it forward off of him. It thudded to the ground beside the other creature that rose to its hind legs. With five quick shots from his rifle Mykal killed the two monsters.

  After he fired off the fifth round he took another attack from behind. This beast pounded boney fists on the center of his back which almost knocked his rifle from his hands. The same beast jumped on him and wrapped its boney claws around his neck to strangle him. Mykal tried to shake the creature off while reaching back to grab it. He felt the snout snap at his hand but it missed. He knew the foul brute would sink yellow dripping fangs into his hand and he feared that more than being choked.

  He dropped to his knees when he couldn’t catch his breath and then dropped his rifle in a desperate attempt to pry the boney claws from his throat. Mykal felt consciousness slipping from him and struggled with greater urgency. A frantic battle was fought to get air into his lungs while feeling the slicing pain of nails breaking the flesh of his neck. He seemed to be weakening under the pressure to his throat, but couldn’t yell for help.

  Mykal heard a yelp turn to a howl and suddenly the pressure released from his throat. Mykal collapsed face first to the dirt. He looked to see Jake step up to the wiggling beast with his GAU and fired three shots into it. Jake had kicked the creature in its exposed side cracking some of the boney ribs.

  “Come on,” Jake yelled and helped pull Mykal to his feet. While holding Mykal up Jake fired his rifle at one of the creatures charging at them on all fours.

  To Mykal the animal looked like a rabid dog. When the beast was hit with the 5.56mm rounds it flipped forward dead before it stopped on the ground. Mykal reached for his rifle and he was tackled by another beast. He hoped for Jake to rescue him again but Jake had been attacked at the same time by another wolf-creature.

  Face down Mykal pulled the ice pick dagger from his web belt and rolled over. The creature clawed and tried to grab for his throat. With his left arm he blocked the mouth of the beast upward and drove the ice pick dagger into the exposed under belly. The creature howled and whimpered like an injured dog. He grabbed a fist full of fur and skin and held it in place while he stabbed it several times. The creature lashed out in wild desperation to escape the pain. In doing so three claws of the beast stuck Mykal’s right cheek and slashed down toward his chin giving Mykal three deep, bloody, gashes that nearly ripped the right side of his face off. The other claw caught his chest but didn’t rip through the material of his BDU shirt. After Mykal’s repeated stabbings the howling ceased and the movement ended. Fur and blood covered his hand. Mykal jumped to his feet with the icepick like dagger in his hands. He didn’t feel pain but he sensed loose flesh flapping on the right side of his face

  “Come on,” he yelled to challenge any others. Mykal felt blood dripping rapidly off his chin and jaw line, but he was ready to stand and fight, ready to stab to death anything that approached him. “Come on,” he yelled again, but there were no others near him. In his mind he imagined his face being horribly disfigured for the rest of his life. He couldn’t see it, but he knew it was a ghastly wound.

  He turned to Jake’s struggle and saw his tall skinny friend on the ground holding his rifle to block the snapping snout from biting his face. With each attempted bite, Jake was sprayed with saliva and every time the jaws snapped shut it sound like two pieces of wood cracking together. The ugly teeth came close to Jake’s face with each chomp.

  Mykal dove downward and swung his bloodied blade with all his might. The awl like dagger pierced into the creature’s neck and pushed through the other side. Before he could pull back to stab again, the monster wiggled and twisted violently to escape the pain, but it pulled away from Mykal with the blade still skewered through the neck.

  “Hell no,” Mykal yelled when the injured animal tried to stumble away. He didn’t want to lose his dagger. With expert speed and precision he drew his revolver and squeezed off three shots. There were only two live rounds left and both hit the target. The .357 magnum rounds exploded out the other side of the body. The animal collapsed. He rushed to retrieve his prized dagger and stuck it back inside his web belt. He could tell the three gashes in his face were bleeding profusely. Rapid dripping hit his right leg and boot, but he didn’t really feel any pain to his face.

  “Thanks man,” Jake said when he joined him. Jake inspected the blood escaping the lacerations on his arm. “That freaking thing clawed the hell outta me. Oh man Myk, yo
ur face is tore up,” Jake gasped when he caught sight of Mykal’s ghastly wound.

  “It’s alright,” Mykal lied while he looked at the little puddle forming near his feet. “Thanks for saving my ass,” Mykal said and bent to retrieve his rifle.

  “Look out!” Jake tried to warn him.

  “What--” Mykal’s words were stopped when a sudden pressure wrapped his entire skull. He felt as if he had been dropped off a ten story building and landed on his head. He collapsed to his knees, fighting to keep his eyes open as he tumbled over. He was able to see one of the creatures standing over him with a large wooden club. It looked like a wolf standing on its hind legs with a large club in its front paws. The sight didn’t make sense, but he fell to the ground in pain. It happened.

  He saw the club swinging down on him a second time, but his body couldn’t move. The thud to his stomach took his breath away. He remembered that same feeling from a life time ago; he played football with school friends and he prepared to throw the winning touchdown, but a blitzing linebacker plowed into his exposed stomach and ribs at full speed. He didn’t see it coming so he couldn’t guard against it. This attack felt the same way. He couldn’t breathe and his head throbbed.

  Everything became fuzzy. He slipped into blackness. He heard Jake yelling and shooting. He felt wetness on the back of his head. He wanted to get up but his body wouldn’t move. He wanted to see but his eyes wouldn’t open. He heard gunshots but they faded away. Fading, he wondered if he was going to die on this specific piece of dirt somewhere on the other side of Towbar’s world. Then there was nothing. He couldn’t hear anything and couldn’t feel anything.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN 12/11/1983

  1. Sunday, December 11th 1983

  1214 hours, Unknown location, Other side of Towbar’s world

  “Do you think he’s gonna be alright?”

  Mykal heard Jake ask someone the question. He knew by the sound of Jake’s voice that Jake was concerned. ‘Who was Jake talking about?’ He wondered in a half sleep like state.

  “I hope so,” Diaz answered and sighed.

  “He’s been out for about fifteen hours now,” Jake said quietly

  “We need him,” Diaz said. “I’ve been praying for him so let’s take another look and we’ll decide what to do.”

  “I’m afraid he’s going to have a horrible scar,” Finley whispered. “One of those things really caught his face.”

  “I know,” Jake whispered. “I saw the damned thing. I’m sick about it,” he sighed.

  Mykal wondered again who they were talking about, but he didn’t feel like moving. He just wanted to sleep. ‘A little more sleep and I could get up and play with the boys…’ He felt someone tugging at something on his head, but why? ‘I’m trying to sleep damn it! Whadda they doing?’

  “I don’t believe this,” Finley exclaimed when they pulled the wrapping from Mykal’s head. “I wonder if his face is--”

  “Oh no,” Mykal moaned, when he stirred but remained in his slumber. The throbbing in his head seemed unbearable. “What the hell are you doing?” Mykal mumbled. His eyes didn’t open. He vaguely remembered what took place.

  “This is the strangest thing I’ve ever seen,” Finley whispered.

  “What is it?” Diaz stepped closer.

  “The wound to the back of his head. It’s healed,” Finley gasped in disbelief. “Look at this Captain Diaz, Kim and Jake. When I bandaged him up last night it looked like his brains were going to fall out,” Finley exaggerated. “He needed a hundred stitches for sure. But look,” he pointed and turned Mykal’s head. “It’s healed. It’s closed up and healed like he was hardly injured.”

  “I’m not a doctor, but I’m a prayer warrior,” Diaz said. “And I’d say this is a miracle.”

  “I wonder if his face…” Finley said while slowly uncovering the field dressing from Mykal’s face. “Oh you gotta be kidding me. I don’t believe it,” Finley gasped. “Don’t take me wrong. I’m so grateful, but I’m telling you his face was a mess,” he whispered harshly. I saw down to the jaw bone through two of the gashes. Look at it, it’s nearly healed. What the hell? I don’t understand.”

  “There is no doubt about that,” Jake mused. “Not only did I see the wound too, but I saw him get whacked in the head.”

  “I would just like to point out that this sounds like an answer to prayer to me.” Diaz smirked triumphantly. “I told you I would pray for him last night. No, no, I’m not taking credit. I know it was God,” he added in response to their looks. “It was God! God healed him. I give all the praise and glory to my LORD and Savior Jesus Christ.”

  Mykal rolled over to look up. His head throbbed and it ached tremendously. His face hurt and itched. He felt something tied to his head and his face. They left him lying down on the left side of his face. He had a tremendous gash down the back of his head, and three terrible gouges on the right side of his face. “What happened?” He asked to take the focus off his quick healing. Mykal knew it was because of Towbar’s blood inside his body that he was able to heal quickly. Mykal sat up slowly and felt for the bump on the back of his head. He touched the stiff brittle hair caked with dried blood. He rubbed the crustiness of dried blood on the back of his neck. “I don’t really remember everything.”

  “You took a vicious whack to the head,” Jake answered.

  Mykal tried to get up. “Someone, please help me up,” he requested when he started to stumble. “I’m still feeling kinda woozy. I kinda remember some of the stuff that happened. Is everyone alright?”

  “Myk, I think you should still relax,” Finley said. “I couldn’t believe your wound. The wound I saw last night isn’t there. Now it’s gone.”

  “Oh man, I need something to drink,” he moaned and had to set himself back down. He felt shaky as if he had woken with a hangover. Feeling for the ache around his left eye caused a sudden jolt when he fingered the tender puffiness. His right cheek hurt as well.

  Jake moved to examine Mykal’s eye and face. “Wow, the swelling has really gone down,” Jake said after closer inspection of the bruising under the left eye. “And the cuts, actually they were gashes on the right side of your face, are gone.” Jake stared into Mykal’s eyes, still holding his face. “How’d you do that? I remember months ago when you got stabbed you were healed the next day. And when you took that Soso death arrow you survived it, which nobody ever does, and you--”

  “What happened?” Mykal asked and firmly grabbed Jake’s wrist as a signal to drop it. “I remember falling to the ground and I remember seeing an animal standing over me with a big-ass club.”

  Jake nodded. “You’re right. That thing whacked you on the back of the head and split your head open. When you went down it hit you in the stomach. I was going to shoot it but there were men behind it and I was afraid I’d hit one of them by accident. I swung my rifle at it and it moved out of the way and hit me with the club, knocking me down. While I was getting up that thing hit you in the face with the club. The club hit your left cheek bone. That’s when I shot it. That thing was going to bash your skull in.”

  “My head is throbbing like crazy,” Mykal moaned.

  “Myk, you should be dead,” Lieutenant Kim said. “You should thank your lucky stars, because you’re very lucky to be alive.”

  “I’m not going to push religion, gentlemen,” Diaz cut in. “But it wasn’t luck. If you’re going to thank anyone, you need to thank God. I’ve said my piece and I’ll leave it at that. Three major injuries to the head and face and all healed in less than twenty-four hours. I have to reiterate, it wasn’t luck.”

  An awkward silence filled their group. They weren’t about to argue with a captain. Mykal wondered if it really was God or was it because he had Towbar’s blood inside him. He decided to dwell on the subject later when his head cleared.

  “Here Myk,” Boris handed him his canteen. “What the hell were those things?” Boris asked to change subjects.

  “Some kind of lycanthropes,” Finley answ
ered. “Werewolves. I’ve always thought they were just a myth, but we experienced them first hand. I just don’t understand why they were trapped in the bodies of little children.”

  “They did say Zizmon-Tarl cursed them to be trapped in the child bodies,” Boris said. “So I wonder if the curse included them changing into animals?”

  “I don’t think they are true werewolves in the sense of what we understand werewolves to be,” Kim offered.

  “Why do you say that?” Finley asked.

  “They hardly bit anyone,” Kim answered quickly. “They didn’t use their fangs as a weapon. They used a drug or a chemical of some sort to get us to lay our lives before them so they could kill us with their hands. If they would have been successful I think they would have eaten our bodies at a later time. That is just speculation on my part,” Kim admitted.

  “Some of the men did lay down for them. They wouldn’t or maybe they couldn’t defend themselves,” Jake explained. “Some were out cold because of the food or drink and others just allowed those things to beat on them.”

  “I thought the whole situation with them was a little odd. Did we lose anyone?” Mykal asked.

  The silent pause led Mykal to believe no one wanted to be the bearer of bad news. Mykal knew by the muteness they suffered losses due to the little monsters sneak attack. Mykal felt it was all his fault. He knew he should’ve never allowed their group to enter the village to begin with.

  “Yes we did,” Diaz answered. “Thankfully you were wise enough to not allow everyone to accept the spiked favors from those fiends.”

  “How many and who?” Mykal sighed and rubbed his neck.

  “We had four killed and several injured,” Diaz replied.

  “Considering we were caught off guard and half our men were drugged, we did very well,” Jake tried to put a positive spin on the situation.