by Dave Hazel
“I will do as you ask my Lord. Please do not inflict any more pain,” the wounded soldier begged. “My insides feel very cold my lord. I am in tremendous pain my Lord,” he moaned and held up his right hand to show it was covered in his own blood.
“I want you to tell your men to give up the Prisoner. I will take possession of the Prisoner and then all you men can go free. Will you agree to that?” Mykal asked and looked to see that the rest of the soldiers continued to ride farther away.
“I will do what you ask my Lord. I am in a tremendous amount of pain,” he repeated with a gasp and winced at his pain again. He looked like he could cry to express his agony, yet as a soldier he had to show strength
“If you do what I say, I will be able to take your pain away just as I was able to inflict the pain you now feel,” Mykal lied to get the man to agree with him.
“I will do all that you ask to stop this maddening sting,” he agreed while continuing to hold up his blood covered palm.
“Do you have any weapons on you?” Mykal asked and looked over the wounded soldier.
“I dropped my spear and my sword. I only have a dagger in my belt,” he answered and pointed to the dagger that was visible. He slowly grabbed it by the handle with the tips of his fingers and pulled it out so he could drop it on the ground. “I no longer have any weapons,” he acknowledged and showed an empty hand.
Mykal helped the man into the back seat and warned him if he tried anything he would kill him as quickly as he killed the others. The man agreed he would do nothing that posed a threat. He seemed to be weakening and wanted help. The main fact was the soldier didn’t want to die. Mykal ordered Doninka to watch the man and to speak to him to keep his focus on her while Mykal drove. Mykal kept the .357 magnum on his lap so if he had to he would reach over and shoot the man in the head.
7.
Doninka made small talk with the bleeding soldier to keep him awake and to keep his focus on her. Mykal drove faster than the horses traveled and gave a wide berth to get around the racing stallions. He wanted to get ahead of them and knew they would have to rest soon. He went farther than they could see though the land was wide open with slightly rolling inclines
Mykal drove to the other side of the slight slope that would enable them to come up in front of the advancing group that was running from the ‘strange magic’ of the ‘strange metal creature’. “Hey, how are you doing there?” Mykal asked the soldier.
“I am fine,” he answered though he lied. He winced which showed how bad he hurt. “I just desire the pain to cease.”
“What is your name?”
“I am called Marittle,” the wounded soldier gasped and winced again. The younger man had longer curly dark hair.
Mykal looked back at him and suddenly felt bad for him. To Mykal he appeared to be in his late teens or maybe early twenties. He was probably someone’s kid who was concerned for him being in the military of Zizmon-Tarl. Mykal knew his sappy emotions were caused by the magic of the ring but he couldn’t help but feel bad for the young man he shot.
“I do not understand how you inflicted such pain on me,” Marittle moaned. “You never drew close enough to strike and yet I sit here in terrible pain,” he groaned and neared a whimper. “And I am letting out much blood,” he added after he looked at his hand that was covered in his own blood.
“Marittle, I understand that you want the pain to cease,” Mykal said when he brought the vehicle to a stop and he tried to think up a good lie as to how he would make the killing pain to stop. Mykal knew they had several minutes. He saw the soldiers slowed their pace because their horses wouldn’t have been able to keep that stride for a very long time. “I want you to get out and I want you to stop your people. Tell them that they can all go free, but the prisoner must be turned over to me. Otherwise I will kill every one of them and I will take the prisoner. Either way, I will get the prisoner but the choice you guys have to make is whether you want to live or die.”
“I desire to live. I will do all that you ask of me, my Lord,” Marittle said and sounded a little delirious.
“I will make your pain cease when I have the prisoner,” Mykal lied. “We gotta get them to let the prisoner go so I can take possession of him. Is that clear?”
“Yes my Lord. I will do my very best,” he moaned as Mykal helped pull him out of the back seat.
In the back seat Mykal saw something that suddenly made him want to shout with joy. “Hold still,” Mykal said and leaned Marittle against the Jeep. Marittle left blood on the seat and now he was transferring his blood against the outside of the vehicle. “I can help you with your pain. Doninka, gimme that medical kit,” he demanded while he tried to keep Marittle from falling over. Whoever drove to the trees when they first arrived placed a medical kit and a portable radio in the back seat.
Mykal opened the medical kit and took out a couple of field dressings to place over the two open wounds in the soldier. There were both an entry and an exit wound. The damage done inside his body from the 5.56mm round bouncing around inside him could be tremendous, but he didn’t know what to do other than place the field dressings on the open wounds to help slow the bleeding and to give him a shot of morphine.
“Do you think you will be able to convince them?” Mykal asked while he injected the liquid morphine into the soldier’s thigh. That was where he had watched medics inject the medicine before, so he hoped he did it right. “Cuz I really don’t wanna kill all of them, but if I have to, I will kill them all,” he snarled angrily as if his emotions were being pulled in different directions. The soldier stood still while Mykal tended to him.
“I think I will be able to do all that you ask my Lord. I only wish for this unbearable pain to end. Oh my. I feel slightly strange,” he added as the drug started to have an impact on his pain. “The pain is easing away,” he added and gave a slight laugh. “May I ask, my Lord, how you were to inflict such a horrendous pain? You never were close enough to strike me, yet I have been struck by something that has caused me very bad damage. I have never felt this kind of hurt before.”
“Don’t worry about that right now,” Mykal said. “I need you to talk with your men and get them to turn over the prisoner or I will kill every one of them,” Mykal repeated to get the thought implanted into Marittle’s mind. “Got It?” Mykal paused while the wounded soldier gave him a strange look. “It means do you understand what I just said to you?”
“Yes, yes. I do understand and I will do everything I can to get them to give up the prisoner.”
“I will be watching from this vehicle,” Mykal announced. “And I can easily kill them from there. Tell them that I don’t want to hurt any of them and all I want is the prisoner you guys are transporting in that carriage.”
“I will do what you request. Thank you my Lord for helping me feel better from the pain I was suffering with,” Marittle said with a slight smile.
“You are welcome,” Mykal said with a reciprocating smile because he knew the wounded soldier was experiencing the little happy bliss the dose of morphine could give. Mykal didn’t have the heart to tell him that his pain would eventually come back. Mykal already decided to give him another dose of morphine if they were all still alive after this confrontation that was about to take place. “I will be in this vehicle,” Mykal said though he planned differently. Mykal turned to Doninka and placed his finger to his lips as if to tell her not to say anything.
When Marittle slowly reached the crest of the slight incline, Mykal turned invisible and walked behind him. Marittle raised his good arm and waved for the mounted soldiers, his combat buddies, to stop.
“Stop my friends. Stop my brothers,” Marittle called out to the slow moving caravan of horses. “I need to bring you good news to help us escape the threat of death.”
“Marittle, my brother, how did you get this far in front of us?” One of the eleven soldiers yelled out to him. The eleven soldiers formed a line in front of the carriage. There were three more mounted sold
iers behind the carriage to act as a rear guard. “I do not see your mount my brother. How could you have gotten here ahead of us?” The man asked again. He appeared to be the leader of the group.
“Toomandy, I was carried here by the strange craft, this warrior Mykal, delivered us here in. It is a horseless carriage,” he explained to the leader. “We rode in a horseless carriage.”
“Are you admitting to participating in magic my brother?” Toomandy asked in an accusatory fashion which caused a stir among his fellow warriors.
“No,” Marittle shouted. “Please listen to me my brothers,” he added but many of the mounted soldiers began to squabble which made it hard for them to hear his words.
“I fear you have committed a grave sin my brother,” Toomandy said and raised his spear as if he was going to throw it at Marittle to kill him.
“Please listen to my words,” Marittle cried out desperately because he feared he was about to be struck down. He knew his men were trained to throw their spears accurately. “It is not magic,” he declared frantically. He believed his life was on the line.
Mykal stood beside the panicky Marittle and raised his rifle though none of the mounted soldiers saw him. Mykal aimed his rifle at Toomandy’s right side and put the crosshairs on the throwing arm shoulder. He didn’t want to kill the man unless the man was going to continue to be belligerent and not listen to reason. Mykal squeezed the trigger just as Toomandy reached back to chuck the spear. The explosion was loud and deafening.
Mykal placed the 5.56mm round into Toomandy’s right shoulder and knocked him from his mount. Marittle stood there shocked as if he expected to die. Toomandy dropped the spear and flopped backward to his right. His yells and cries of shock and fear made it clear he hadn’t been killed. “Tell them I could have shot him in the head just as easily and he would be dead right now,” Mykal whispered.
Marittle turned to the sound of Mykal’s voice but there was no one standing there. He looked at the strange craft that Mykal called a vehicle and saw Doninka sitting in the passenger’s side, but he didn’t see Mykal.
“I said to tell them that I could have killed him,” Mykal snarled.
“My friend Mykal says that he could have killed Toomandy,” Marittle called out desperately so as not to arouse Mykal’s anger. He questioned himself as to whether he should have called Mykal his friend.
“Tell them I hit him in the shoulder and that could have easily been his head.”
“My brothers,” Marittle yelled above the confusion that started. “Mykal said to look at Toomandy’s shoulder. That wound he bears could have been in his head. However, Mykal chose to spare his life. His desire is not to kill all of us. He does not wish to kill us,” he yelled when most of the men jumped off their mounts and rushed to Toomandy’s side and helped him to his feet which revealed he was still alive though his yells made that clear. “I too have suffered such a wound,” he yelled and tried to get their attention. He waved his good arm, and his left arm dangled with blood still dripping off his fingertips. “My brothers, you must listen to my words.”
“Why do we need to listen to the words of one who has sided with the enemy,” another shouted and drew his sword. He proceeded to march on Marittle.
“Ninaw, please stop,” Marittle shouted and held his hand up. “I did not strike your blood relative,” he added in reference to Toomandy and Ninaw being actual brothers.
“I will put an end to this traitor,” Ninaw shouted and charged toward the wounded and unarmed Marittle.
“I said stop,” Mykal yelled loudly and then fired off another round from his rifle and shot the hostile Ninaw in the forehead. “Don’t make me kill all you sonsabitches,” he snarled and fired off three more rounds. He struck two in the chest to kill them and the third he shot in the left thigh. He turned himself visible and his rage was almost complete. He was tempted to shoot every one of them and be done with all the bickering, but he really didn’t want to kill them.
The men scrambled and tried to hide behind their horses because they didn’t know where he came from. It was clear he was deadly if he desired them to be dead. The mad rush of noisy voices filled the air. Marittle shouted in the hopes of getting their attention, but the confusion and yells kept him from being heard. The three mounted soldiers to the rear of the carriage came forward to see what was happening.
“I said shut up,” Mykal yelled and fired four rapid shots into the air to get everyone’s attention. “Listen to me. Tommy, got shot in the shoulder cuz that’s where I wanted to hurt him,” Mykal yelled and meant for the soldier named Toomandy. “The other three I killed cuz you guys pissed me off, you made me very angry because you weren’t listening to Marittle here. The last one I shot in the leg but I could have shot him in the head just as easily. I wanted to show you that I can kill you that easy or I can make you suffer unbearably. Listen to my words. I can kill each and every one of you just as quickly as I made that noise you just heard. So listen to my question,” he yelled and paused to ensure he had all their attention. “Do you want to live or do you want to die?”
Some didn’t answer because the question was a foolish question. Some of them answered in hopes that they would be spared the fate that befell the unfortunate ones who fell before his wrath. “We wish to live,” one of the soldiers shouted when the noise died down. They all looked at the stranger wearing the strange clothing and didn’t know what to expect next.
“If you wish to live,” Mykal yelled and paused once again to make sure they were all paying attention. “If you wish to live, then pick up your weapons and turn around and go. Only leave the carriage with the prisoner in it.”
“I can not do that,” one of the two drivers on the carriage said after he stood up.
“Okay, then take the damn carriage, but leave the prisoner here with me,” Mykal replied sharply and felt a hateful rage coursing through his veins.
“I can not do that,” the same man shouted while holding tightly to the reigns. “I am responsible for his return. I must be the one who--”
Suddenly the rifle raised and the crosshairs of the scope centered on the arguing man’s forehead. The rifle discharged and the life taking explosion ripped through his head which threw him down on his partner’s lap. The man was clearly dead since most of the top of his head blew apart and fell onto his co-rider’s face and chest. The co-rider shouted and cried out in the shock of the suddenness of his close friend’s death. There was no parley, no bargaining, no discussion, just sudden death.
“Whoever of you can’t just walk away I will end it right now,” Mykal shouted and sounded as cold and heartless as the thump, thump thud of the driver falling dead onto the carriage seat into his co-rider’s lap.
Almost as suddenly as the driver dropped dead, with most of his head blown apart, the carriage doors flung open and three men jumped out from inside. The faint sound of protests came from within the carriage. The one yelling for them not to depart had to be William, but Mykal thought there should have been another inside the carriage. He clearly remembered seeing three sit facing the two drivers and then William and another sat across from them. William and the fourth guard sat with their backs to the drivers.
“I think these scumbags are trying to pull a fast one on me,” Mykal snickered hatefully to Marittle. He felt the three confirmed his fear when they started to whisper among themselves. Mykal suddenly believed the three left a fourth inside the carriage with William so when everyone backed away, the fourth one would be able to surprise Mykal to disarm him, and maybe kill or incapacitate him. “You better get the prisoner outta there and set him on the ground by the carriage.”
Mykal watched the three whispered to the driver and then whispered inside the carriage. With all the noise he couldn’t make out what they were saying but he knew they were up to no good to catch Mykal off guard. They pulled the Prisoner out of the carriage and he had a black hood over his head so he couldn’t see. The prisoner’s arms were bound behind his back. As they set h
im on the ground, Mykal believed it was William. He wore cammy trousers and the man’s physical shape could fit the description of William. The prisoner complained bitterly and it sounded like William Roberts.
“So you guys wanna friggin screw with me?” Mykal snarled quietly, more to himself. He decided he was going to pull a ‘fast one’ on them before they got to pull their ‘fast one’ on him. He turned invisible and ran as fast as he could. He pulled a hand grenade from his harness and ran to the open door of the carriage while everyone suddenly ‘freaked out’ that the stranger disappeared. Mykal pulled the pin and tossed the hand grenade inside the carriage and closed the door. He then ran as fast as he could back to where he had been standing beside Marittle. The explosion occurred before he reached where Marittle stood.
The explosion was deafening and blew the carriage doors open. The top hinge had been knocked free which made the door look cockeyed. Mykal heard the sound of a man scream as if he had been burned alive. The three men who came from inside the carriage and two other men who had been standing near the carriage were knocked backward. William, while sitting on the ground cried out and yelled curses. He fell over and rolled back and forth as if in intense pain. A large plume of smoke wafted out from inside the carriage and it appeared flames were coming from inside the carriage. The two horses attached to the front of the carriage bucked and looked like they were going to bolt, but the co-rider held them in place. He looked like he was going to panic when it seemed the carriage rocked from what felt like an earth quake.
Suddenly several men were yelling. They were experiencing a strange pain, but the unknown of how the pain struck them caused a fear they had never experienced before. Of the three men standing outside the carriage who had been inside the carriage, one had been killed by the blast and the two others suffered burns and shrapnel injuries. One of the two held his face and cried out for help because he had been blinded by the blast.
Two others beside the carriage had suffered minor injuries from the blast. They were able to get to their feet and inspect the damage and the horror of such a strange blast inside the carriage. William yelled while he rolled on the ground. Mykal believed William must have taken a piece of shrapnel to his neck or his shoulder near his neck based on his complaint. With his head covered in a hood and his hands bound behind his back his complaint grew louder the longer they ignored him.
