by Matt Thomas
The other humans were calling out for help, and a glance over his shoulder told the team leader that several must have been seriously injured, but they seemed to be taking care of each other.
The Metic Ahai he shot lay at his feet. Bryan rolled him over with his boot. The creature still breathed, barely, the nostrils above his over-sized eyes dripped blood as he coughed and sputtered, muttering in his own language.
“Why’d he shoot?” Bryan shouted at him.
“I ... He was ...” The alien tried to speak English. Bryan stepped on the Metic Ahai’s knee, lowering the muzzle of his weapon even closer to its face.
“What the fuck just happened?”
The alien cried out in pain again, shuddering and twitching.
Kearney ran up behind him after only a few seconds with Taylor. She had to call his name several times to get his attention. “Taylor’s dead. Half his head is gone. He didn’t have a chance.”
Bryan risked taking his eyes of the other Metic Ahai for an instant, looking over at the body and then looking at his medic. For the first time he noticed the blood dripping from above her hairline.
“You okay?”
“Just a nick. No worse than your arm.” Bryan looked down at his shooting arm, and notice the tear in his uniform and blood soaking through. “I’m going to check out the others.”
Perkins walked up, pistol still aimed at the surviving Metic Ahai. “I got this.”
“I want to know what just happened.” Bryan instructed.
He turned his back, reluctantly, on the Metic Ahai and ran after Kearney towards the partisans. Two of them lay on the ground, with another propped up against the truck, staring into nothing and breathing heavily while his friends applied pressure to wounds around his shoulder. Of the two men on the ground, one’s stomach had been ripped open, and organs were trying to squeeze out through the flesh and against his hand. He made no noise but shook uncontrollably, barely breathing. The other screamed, his yells echoing off the mountain slopes. The shotgun blast mauled the inside of his thigh, and blood spurted through the pulp of his left leg. Kearney dove for him, first hoping the man could be saved.
The other humans who weren’t trying to save each others’ lives turned to rage. They started screaming profanities at the Metic Ahai, raising their weapons and walking towards them. Bryan held up a hand to stop them, even placing himself between the two.
“You’re gonna protect those ... Things?!” One of them yelled as Bryan placed himself in front of the man’s rifle.
“We killed the shooter. We killed his friend. We’ve got it under control.”
“You don’t have it under control.” A human screamed. “They just started shooting at us. They killed one of your guys!”
“They started shooting and we shot back. The others are being secured, don’t worry.”
“If you’re not going to kill them I will.”
“They just killed my friend. You don’t think I’m pissed off right now?” Bryan shouted back. “But I need to know what they know, and I’m not going to know anything if you murder them.”
That seemed to redirect the man. He put his weapon down and stared over Bryan’s shoulder. The team leader risked a glance to see that Perkins had tied the four survivors up and split them up, facing away from each other. He knelt next to one, clearly interrogating him.
“Look, go take care of your friends.” The team leader urged. “We’ll take care of those guys.”
The man nodded and backed away.
“O!” Bryan shouted, and his radioman came running up, receiver already extended. “Serpent Eight-Two, Beast Two-Two.” The words slurred together. There were no immediate response so he tried again. “Serpent Eight-Two, Beast Two-Two.”
“Beast Two-Two, go ahead.”
“We have a... situation here. One of our Mike Alphas opened fire on us. I have one FHSF KIA. I have three EH WIA. I have two Mike Alphas KIA.” He spat out the casualties.
There was a substantial pause. “Say again, Beast Two-Two.”
Bryan took a deep breath. “We have one FHSF KIA, three HE WIA, and two Mike Alphas KIA. One of our Mike Alphas opened fire on us at our step-off point.”
“Serpent Eight-Two copies. What’s the status of casualties?”
“Wait one, Serpent Eight-Two.” Kearny came running up to him.
“That one dude just bled out.” She pointed to one of the human bodies lying near the truck, surrounded by bloody gauze and bandage wrappers drifting away in the breeze. “There’s no way I was going to save him. His arteries were destroyed. The guy with the shoulder wound will live, but I don’t know about the guy with the gut wound. Unless I can get him to the camp and Jedynak and I can do some surgery, I don’t know that he can make it.”
“Are the rest of us okay?”
She nodded. “Looks that way. Perkins somehow didn’t get hit and O just got a few more pock-marks on his face from the windshield shattering but he’s totally fine.” Siskand nodded vigorously to confirm the assessment.
“Serpent Eight-Two, revised casualties. One by FHSF KIA: Tango Alpha Eight Four Three Zero.” He read off Taylor’s roster number, the code used to identify Soldiers over the radio without using a name. “Three by FHSF WIA but RTD. One EH WIA now KIA. One HE WIA expectant. One HE WIA critical.” He went through the list, indicating the two humans injured and still alive, the man with the wound to his stomach who was not likely to survive, and the man with the shot to his shoulder who would likely survive if he got help.
The sound of a vehicle approaching made him drop the transceiver at the same time that he, Kearney, and O all raised their weapons. A car in decent repair came through the trees, spattered in mud and snow. Through the filthy windshield, he saw two Metic Ahai faces. All four of the Green Berets started shouting at once. The vehicle came to a stop and four Metic Ahai came out, shaking with their hands in the air. They complied with instructions to get down on the ground.
“Kearney, get back to those guys. O and I’ve got this.” Both men approached cautiously, weapons still aimed the the Metic Ahai on the ground. They were shouting in their sing-song English, asking what was going on.
“Who are you?” Bryan shouted. He knew without looking that all the other humans had their weapons trained on the new arrivals as well.
“We were stuck in the snow in the pass. We are late.” One of them managed.
“Shit, the other group.” O said.
“Listen, we just had a Metic Ahai start shooting at us, so we’ve got to be careful. Do you understand?” They nodded. He pointed to where Perkins watched the others. “This is going to suck, but we need to protect ourselves. I need you all to stay down here until that man comes over and talks to you, okay? If you stand up, if you get in the truck, if you touch a weapon, we’re just going to kill you. Understand?”
“Yes, yes. We understand.”
Serpent Eight-Two was still calling for him. He could hear the tiny voice coming through the radio. “Serpent Eight-Two, Beast Two-Two is calling an audible. We’re going to collect our casualties and RTB when able. We will take the EH casualties with us for treatment. Break.”
He turned to his medic. “Bridget, can you get those guys into the back of a truck?” She gave him a thumbs-up from where she knelt next to one of the casualties.
“Beast Two-Two is going to take two Mike Alphas with us for questioning, location TBD. Over.”
After another extended pause, where he imagined the staff arguing about next steps, they provided their response. “Serpent Eight-Two copies all.” On one hand, the simple acknowledgment conveyed confidence the task force had in his ability to handle the situation. On the other, it could mean that they were either as lost as he was or knew they could do nothing to help him in that moment. Staring at his dead man and his supposed allies who had just murdered, and his human trainees who wanted to return the favor, Bryan felt completely alone.
Perkins, who had been hel
ping Bridget with the wounded humans, came running up to Bryan, turning his back on the humans in an attempt at privacy. “They’re not going to go for it.” He said.
“What do you mean?”
“They said they want to treat their people themselves. They don’t want us taking their friends away, they said.”
Bryan looked over Perkins’ shoulder to where Bridget continued to try to save lives. “Their people are going to die. They really don’t trust us? We didn’t kill them.”
Perkins shrugged apologetically. “I made sure they know that. They say they want to handle this themselves. They want the Metic Ahai, too.”
“They can’t have them. We need them.”
“I made that pretty clear to them, too.
Bryan snatched the short-range radio from O. “Bravo, Alpha.”
Jess’s voice came back. “I think you mean ‘Alpha, Bravo,’ but go ahead.”
He ignored her snippy comment. Any other day he would have found it amusing. “Get Feste on the phone right now.” He used MacIntyre’s code name since he couldn’t trust how secure his communications were. “Tell him what’s happened, and tell him to order his people to comply with me.”
“On it, Bravo.”
Bryan stormed back over to the humans. Bridget had secured one man’s intestines to his abdomen and pumped him full of painkillers and antibiotics. “How’s he doing?” He asked.
“He can make it.” She said, grossly understating the severity of the situation to keep the others calm.
Bryan addressed the humans standing around. “Look, I know you want your men with you but we have the equipment to try to keep these men alive. Let us help you.”
“You ‘helped’ us,” one of them spat. “And look what happened.”
“Do you really want your people to die just because you’re pissed at us?” Bridget said without being angry.
“I sure as fuck don’t want my people to die because some Runners took the aliens’ side and not ours.”
O held out the handset for the radio. “Jess got MacIntyre on the line.”
“Why don’t you all talk to Lucas and we can continue this conversation.”
The lead human shoved O’s outstretched hand. “I don’t need to talk to that lunatic. I don’t take orders from him, and I don’t take orders from you. I want to kill Hetarek. That’s all any of us want. MacIntyre’s just some middleman, as far as we’re concerned. We come from Ellensburg, we don’t care what some old, washed-out guy in Yakima thinks.”
“He can stop getting you guns and ammo.” Bryan said. “Without those, it’s going to be hard to kill Hetarek if that’s all you care about.”
“He can stop getting us his guns and ammo. We can find our own, and we can get them from you.”
“Not if I stop providing them.”
The man laughed. “That’s an empty threat. You’re going to take our guns, take our ammo, and then who’s going to help you fight? Who’s going to help you fight after you let a fucking Metic Ahai kill our men, and then tried to take our men from us.”
“I’m not trying to take your men from you.” Bryan struggled to keep an even tone, he was rapidly losing patience. “I won’t take them if you won’t let us help them. But those Metic Ahai over there can give us information, and those we can take.”
“Not if we shoot them right now.” The fighter and the two others stepped forward with their weapons.
“I’m not going to let you do that.” Bryan said dismissively. “I’m taking them because I need to know what they know.”
“Or what? You’ll kill us? You’d kill your own kind over them?”
“I’d defend them from murder just like I’d defend you from murder. And that’s exactly what it would be.”
The man stared fiercely into Bryan’s eyes. Bryan didn’t glare back or attempt to match the other man’s posturing. He just met the look and held it with the tired confidence of victory. Eventually, the other released the lock, and looked back at his people.
“If you really don’t want us to help them, I suggest you go now so they can at least have a shot. If you change your mind, we’ll get to you as quickly as we can.
Without another word, they loaded the body of their friend and their wounded into the back seats of their trucks.
“Serpent Eight-Two, Beast Two-Two, be advised we’re calling another audible. The HEs are EVAC-ing their own wounded. We are going to take two Mike Alphas for interrogation and release the other four...”
His call was interrupted by gunshots. Gunshots from antique weapons. And a truck engine revving.
Bryan dropped to a crouch, releasing his grip on the handset that sprung back on its cord and struck O in the hand. Within seconds, he, and the members of his team around him, all had their rifles up. All they could see was the dirt kicked up by the humans’ truck as it accelerated away from them. Perkins jogged after them, weapon still ready. When he got to the spot where the shots had been fired, he stopped, dropped his guard and hung his head.
Knowing what he was about to see, Bryan followed his man. Perkins just stared at the ground and back at his leader. On the ground were the bodies of two Metic Ahai prisoners, the ones with their hands still tied as they lay on the ground, bullet holes in their torsos. One still shuddered as he died.
Perkins muttered to himself. “Saw that coming.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
When the trucks finally rolled in, nearly everyone maintaining the camp came out to meet them. If he'd had anymore focus, Bryan would have told most of them to get back to what they were supposed to be doing. But he didn't. He shoved open his door and did his best not to stumble out. He did have enough energy to slam it shut behind him.
Jedynak stood by with his makeshift gurney. Raghnal reached into the back of the truck and pulled out Taylor’s body before others scrambled to help him. The only sound was the scraping of his equipment on the metal truck bed. They placed the body onto the gurney, and stared. The face wasn't a face any more. Bits of white bone and tooth stuck out the mass of swollen, bright red tissue blossoming out of the little skin left. The mass didn't maintain its shape as they moved the body, shaking like gelatin with each vibration.
Secured to the gurney, they wheeled Taylor inside the lodge.
Bryan put a hand on his senior NCO's shoulder to stop him from following the pallbearers. "Evan, can you get some guys to clean out the back of the truck?"
Raghnal looked over at the vehicle. Taylor had left behind streak of blood and tissue. "You want to make sure we got all the pieces?"
Bryan nodded. "We should bury all of him."
"And you don't want to be driving a week from now and find a part of his jaw wedged in the seat."
"That too." He admitted.
"I'll get it done.” The team sergeant stared at the door the gurney had passed through. “What do you want to do with him?"
Howe thought about it. "Bury him, I guess. Any thoughts?"
"It's rocky. We can put him under a cairn."
"'A cairn?'" Bryan laughed, in spite of himself. "That's a fancy word for you."
Raghnal gave a flash of a smile. "I've been reading about Vikings while you've been out being useful." The smile disappeared. "You bring any of those coffin bags? The ones that turn rigid?"
"Yeah."
"That'll preserve him a little at least. We can give him a better spot once this is all done."
They paused, staring at the gore in the truck and trying not to talk about the recently deceased. "How many did you bring?" Raghnal asked.
"Coffin bags? Ten."
"Enough for all but two of us?"
"We needed to save weight and space. I figured it takes two to set up and bury one of those things. So the last two wouldn’t be able to use them anyway."
“I guess that sounds reasonable.”
“It was definitely one of the strangest decisions I’ve ever had to make.”
Bryan
looked at the slopes around him. Anything not too sheer to hold it was buried in feet of snow. The chill gave him goosebumps.
Everyone else had gone inside, leaving the two of them alone with the steam from their breath.
“He just opened fire?”
It took Bryan a few seconds to refocus. “Yeah. I guess he got a better offer.”
“From what we could tell from Loki, the locals were pretty upset.”
“Fuck, I was pretty upset and the Metic Ahai aren’t my overseers.”
“If there’s one of these, it’s a good bet there’s going to be more.”
“We’re going to have to get our Ahai expert on Columbia to give us some ideas. Gretter’ll have to come up with something. I’m completely out of brain bandwidth at the moment.”
Raghnal laughed hard, the sound echoing off the walls of the mountains. “I think that’s a massive understatement.”
O, responding to the sound and not understanding, stuck his head out from the door to the lodge. A trail of blood droplets in the packed snow told them he was standing by where Jedynak processed Taylor’s body for burial. Bryan waved at him, acknowledging his caretaker and, at once, dismissing him.
“I know you’re exhausted.” Raghnal said. “You want to have the ceremony tonight or wait until tomorrow?”
Bryan shook his head. “I’m not leaving his body sitting on a table until morning. Besides, I don’t think I’ll sleep any better putting it off. Let’s do it as soon as they’re done in there.”
The process took several hours. They videotaped and photographed the body, Jedynak performing a straightforward autopsy that confirmed the obvious. Sergeant First Class Kevin Taylor died of severe head trauma caused by a shotgun wound to the face. Bryan and Raghnal found a spot on a ridge overlooking the lake, and began to dig. By the time the body was ready, they had a grave large enough to fit an expandable coffin, and enough small boulders to cover it. Trees overhead would block the grave site from overhead observation once the snow filled back in.
