"No," said Aldridge.
"The whole town was in there! It was so crowded I could only see up to the front. They were all wearing dark robes and speaking in that language. I don't care anymore; we need out of Ragnog! That woman was right."
“Get a hold of yourself, Frank. You sound like that woman, and that’s not good,” said Aldridge.
"Our ancestors did not come to the New World to be swayed by mysticism," said Martinez.
"Guys, we ain’t dealin' with no run of the mill drug cartels," Frank said, his accent growing with his fear. "We're dealing with a cult."
“The whole town?” asked Tex.
“Yes, the whole darn town," said Preacher.
"You're unreasonable. You're being emotional,” said Tex.
"Like the girl who pleaded with her life that this town was ‘un ciudad de muerte’? They had a board with pictures of all the members, every single member of the city council was listed there. I had memorized their names, and every one of them was on the board," said Frank
“Well, where does that put us, Frank?” asked Chance.
"Wait," Frank spoke with eyes bulging from his head and sweat beaded on his face. "Where is everyone else? Where is the rest of the squad?"
"Back at the hotel," said Martinez.
"Go back and get them! We never leave our buddies behind," started Preacher.
"Relax, bro. They're sleeping," started Chance.
"I’m scared it might be the sleep they ain’t ever gonna wake up from."
Frank unbuckled his seatbelt and went to the giant bag. He grabbed a semi-automatic 12-gauge shotgun.
"We got to go back and get our buddies before it's too late."
"Alright, I'll give them a call," said Chance.
"There's no signal, ain't been one since we got here,” said Frank.
He was right, and they all knew it. Now the four in the SUV hoped he wasn't right about everything.
They picked up speed as they began their drive back to the hotel. They spun through town and got caught at the red light. There, on the street corner as a man wearing a baker’s white apron. Chance looked over at him, and he smiled and waved.
"Yes, I saw that man there too!" shouted Frank.
"We believe you."
"Well, you won't believe what I see now," said Frank.
Chance continued driving as the light turned green, but looked back in his rear-view mirror.
"Just a man on his cell phone," said Chance.
“No that’s not, Hermano,” said Martinez.
“That’s a radio! That guy is calling us in! Now, go go go!”
Chance slammed his foot on the accelerator, and they sped towards the hotel. They reached the hotel with the Sons’ leader still following them. He slammed on the brake in front of the hotel. Almost simultaneously, Martinez, Tex, and Frank leaped from their vehicle and sprinted towards the hotel. Martinez and Frank drew their weapons from their concealed positions. Frank his tactical shotgun, and Martinez the pistol.. The three of them dashed into their hotel room. Chance remained in the vehicle for what felt like an eternity.
Four men emerged from the hotel room. Martinez and Frank carried an injured Pickett who had his arms around their necks. Meanwhile, Tex walked in front of them, keeping an eye out for any danger.
Pickett moaned in pain as they hoisted him into the SUV.
"Is he...are they?" asked Chance.
"Grab your weapon, Chance. Load up," said Martinez.
"What's in there?" said Chance.
"Dang it, Chance!" screamed Frank. "We've got to get out of here!”
"I don't understand."
"They're coming for us. We have to get out of here!"
"But we can't leave our friends in there!"
“We’re getting them!" screamed Preacher.
“Are they all...”
Frank looked at Chance with such intensity that Chance knew the answer to his question without needing to hear it.
"And the weapons, the money, was that all taken, too?"
"No. The money wasn’t touched."
"Stop!" screamed Tex, silencing all those in the vehicle. Tex rolled down the back seat window and raised his assault rifle. He unleashed a grenade from his M203. The round penetrated the window to the hotel room they were in.
BOOM! The room immediately erupted in a fire.
"What are you doing?" screamed Chance.
"No!" cried Pickett. "Chance! Tex is doing the right thing!"
"We never leave anyone behind!" cried Chance.
"They were gone," said Pickett, grimacing in agonizing pain. "Tex just prevented their bodies from being subject to demonic barbarism."
"What was in there?" cried Chance.
"It wasn't, it wasn't..." started Pickett.
"It wasn't what?" asked Martinez.
"It wasn't human," said Pickett.
The five survivors sat silently in the SUV as they drove out of the town. Martinez held up Book's cell phone. Chance continued driving but could see him going through the phone. Martinez pressed the button, and they could hear the screams on the phone. They could hear the voices on the phone, the cries. The screams were not out of pain, as Chance interpreted, but fear. He could not make out most of the words but he did catch one. "Monster." Martinez closed the phone and sat in silence. Chance looked over at him, and he saw a single tear roll down his cheek.
"Chance, I don't know what we're messing with."
Another vehicle slammed into the back of their SUV. The vehicle turned 270 degrees and rolled over onto its side. Its windows shattered and giant flames erupted at the rear of the vehicle.
"Everybody gives me an up!" shouted Chance.
"I'm good!" yelled Martinez.
“I’m good,” said Frank, his words separated by breaths of pain, “but I’m pretty messed up.”
"Guys," said Martinez, "we've got company."
Martinez unbuckled himself from the vehicle. He grabbed his pistol and began to fire. He unloaded an entire clip and then reloaded and continued to shoot. Chance unbuckled himself too and started to climb out towards the back of the vehicle. He raised his weapon to fire, but then he screamed.
“What’s wrong with him?” asked Chance, surprised at Martinez’ outburst.
“They’re monsters!” screamed Martinez, his accent thick, “Monsters!”
There in the middle of Ragnog was a horde of almost fifty orcs running towards them. They carried pitchforks, machetes, shovels, and an assortment of makeshift weapons. Chance raised his assault rifle, and he tried to aim his gun, but his hands shook with fear. He lowered his AR-15, tightened the strap of his weapon, and then raised his rifle again and began to unload an entire magazine into the crowd of monsters.
The rounds impacted, but with little effect since this did not stop the creatures. They continued to move forward, using the orcs in front of them as living shields.
"Martinez, get Frank! Get Frank, and we get out of here!"
"But..."
"I've got four magazines. Get him, and we get out of here!"
Martinez crawled through to get Frank, as Chance continued to shoot the oncoming horde. The orcs were moving towards Chance and his weapon. He fired half of his magazine, and only two fell. He continued shooting, and they continued to draw closer. Three or four jumped on to the vehicle. Shrapnel exploded as Frank fired his semi-automatic shotgun through the roof and at the oncoming beasts. The rounds of the 5.56 could not consistently stop them, but the impact of the shotgun did.
The creatures fell back. At the sound of the gun, they initially cowered, but they were ultimately not deterred and kept moving forward. The gun sang out, blowing through the SUV, shooting glass and various items into the air. Chance ducked his head to take cover, and as he did the orcs sprinted towards him. Despite the shotgun, the monsters continued forward. In an instant, they were on him. He tried to raise his weapon to fire, but the creature’s hands clutched his barrel. He managed to draw his pistol from his side an
d fired into the beasts. Those he hit fell forward onto him, and he screamed in maddening claustrophobia as they piled onto him.
BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM
As the creatures had gotten too close, and three were blown apart, as the shotgun hit them at point-blank rage. Immediately, Chance got to his knee and began firing at the orcs, but the sound of the shotgun went silent. Chance looked at the SUV, and noticed some orcs inside it. He saw one standing with Frank's shirt, and his hands roughly searched through the kit that Frank had worn. Chance fired at the creature. It clutched its shoulder, and Chance tried to shoot again, but his weapon jammed. He called out the names of his friends, but there was no answer. The orcs continued forward but Chance knew he could not leave his buddies. He also knew that now his buddies wanted him to run.
He ran, his fists pounding the air as his legs carried him as far as he could. He looked behind him, and there were two orcs still chasing him on foot. Chance took a knee and raised his weapon.
BOOM
He fired the first weapon, shooting the closest orc right between the eyes.
He aimed his assault rifle at the second orc. He fired. His piece jammed. Chance went into remedial action. He slammed the bottom of the magazine, pulled back the charging hand and released the misfed round. He hunkered down into his kneeling position, the second orc now within four feet of him. Carefully he raised his weapon.
BOOM
The second orc was killed instantly as the round went through the center of his skull. The orc fell back. . Chance's eyes briefly scanned over the carcass of this mythological creature. From his location in the town, he looked back at Ragnog. Flames had begun to rise high into the air, and he could see more trucks coming. These were not trucks that had been in the fight, but appeared to be a reactionary force coming to reinforce or finish the fight.
Chance was tempted to shoot as many as he could, but he had to survive, and he did not want them coming in his general direction.
From the commotion, he could hear the voice of Tex.
“Tex!” screamed Chance, glad to see his friend was still alive.
Tex was almost textbook in his technical execution. Tex fired his rifle, engaging as the oncoming enemy approached, moving closer. He slung his weapon to his back, drew his pistol, and emptied every magazine. Finally, out of rounds, he pulled his Bowie knife. The horde tackled him, and Chance screamed as orcs covered his buddy.
"Tex!" screamed Chance.
BOOM
Chance was blown back. Looking up Chance saw his buddies.
There were Martinez and Pickett laying on the ground.
“Oh, no, no, no!” cried out Chance.
Dead. The Squad, except for Chance, were all dead.
"My friends!" Chance cried out in despair. As he did, he noticed the creatures in front of him. Before the orcs could notice Chance, he turned and ran. The oncoming black SUV came closer. The SUV was not driven by these orcish creatures, but by Ragnog men. The men had driven up the roads, and Chance realized he did not own the street. He would have to continue to evade them by staying in the more wooded area. As he turned away from the monsters and their fire, he heard one of them cry out - its voice like an animal. Chance ran from the town, leaving the municipality of Ragnog on foot.
CHAPTER 7: THE RED SLOUGH
Gavan - Mccurtain County, Ok
Adrenaline and fear combined to give Chance an unnatural supply of energy. Initially, he planned to follow Oklahoma state highway 87 and go west out of Ragnog, but the sight of the tactical vehicles pushed him further into the woods. Using his compass, he decided to go north. If he were going to die, he would die in Oklahoma and not the neighboring southern state. If he traveled north, in a few days, Chance believed he would be out of Ragnog's area of influence, and he could find shelter. He tried to think of his friends, but instead, the images of the orcs came into view. The only image he could recall was the image of over forty half-naked goblins swarming their SUV, and then the creatures beating the vehicle with makeshift medieval weapons shoddily made using industrial and agricultural equipment.
Chance successfully evaded one enemy, but now there was a new threat he would face: terrain. McCurtain County had swamps and mountains and he was about to face both. The landscape was downright unforgiving.
One of the first things Masterson did after being elected, was to pull all funding for state parks in Oklahoma and use it to improve education. While this helped the teachers' salary, it left the state parks in total disarray. The parks were still owned by the state so they could not be privatized. So when government organizations stepped away from the parks, and business entities and individuals were prevented from taking control of them, other organizations saw these abandoned areas as an opportunity, and filled the void left by the public and private sector.
From the Frat Squad's intelligence, they had learned gangs, and other organized criminal entities used some of these state parks as bases of operations. The combination of enemy and terrain alone would not just be difficult; it would be dangerous.
In any other circumstance, before facing mountains and sloughs, Chance would have stopped and rested. But in the past situations, blood-thirsty orcs had never been part of the equation. His existence was now entirely dependent on getting away from Ragnog.
He had grown up in Oklahoma and studied its geography. While he was knowledgeable of the Oklahoman landscape, he currently had no map and no smartphone to aid his navigation. He knew the terrain was about to get worse. As he continued travelling, he felt the soil becoming weaker in consistency. The ground in Ragnog had been hard but had grown softer as he ran into the base of the Ouachita Mountains. Now, the soil was becoming wet.
He was approaching the Red Slough of Southeastern Oklahoma; the treacherous swamp of Little Dixie.
Chance traveled all day, and now it was getting dark.
"Still got them," he said as he reached down into his kit and pulled out a pair of night vision goggles, and a piece of equipment affectionately nicknamed a "skull crusher." The skull crusher had a circle that went around the head, and then two bars that extended five inches to the front of the head where the goggles connected right in front of the face.
Chance winced as he put the awkward contraption on to his head, and then adjusted the device to his face. He took a thin green string that was attached to the skull crusher and tied it down to his tactical vest. He continued moving north.
During his past training, Chance had found the swamp more physically draining than the mountains. The mud stuck to his body, and he became claustrophobic. He tried his hardest to remain quiet, but the swamp and surrounding wetlands of the Red Slough did not allow it. Each step he took was painful. His feet would land in the mud, and there would be a giant sucking sound as he pulled them up from the ground. Chance fell into the mud multiple times. He tried to remain as patient and as tactical as possible, but grew more frustrated with each step.
Chance continued moving through the swamp for two hours, and then something caught his attention.
He gained his footing and then listened to what was behind him. Through the green lenses of his goggles, he could see something moving through the swamp. He heard a powerful sound, as something beat against the water, and then silence. He stood perfectly still, as his mind tried to register the noise. Chance was up to his waist in the middle of a cypress swamp, and he knew something was out there with him.
Something was near, and he could feel it.
There behind him was a log.
A cypress tree stood up out of the mud; he planned to climb into that for safety. He looked behind.
The log was gone.
He had been so dedicated to running away from newly introduced monsters that he forgot to think about the monsters that he knew. Most people did not believe this particular creature lived in Oklahoma. People would have been almost as skeptical of its presence here as they would have been of the goblins that lived in McCurtain County. But Chance knew what creatures were na
tive to the Red Slough. McCurtain County had swamps, mountains, and – the American alligator. Now, he found himself waist deep in the Red Slough, with no light, while a predator patrolled its habitat. It was too physically awkward for him to look at his weapon, but he knew mud covered his assault rifle, making it inoperable. He felt for his kit and reached for a secondary arm.
Chance felt the butt of his bowie. How many stabs could he get before being taken under by an American alligator? He wasn't sure, but he was about to figure out. He continued moving towards the tall Cypress tree. Even with little illumination, he could see the spiral of clay that followed him through the muddy water.
The Dark Lord of Oklahoma Page 15
