by P. G. Thomas
I need to thank Logan…if we ever find him. Taking the bedroll, she looked around for a soft spot to think and to sleep.
Alron made sure that they all bedded down closer together, and that each Earth Guard took a shift watching over the camp. However, not one of them would get a good night’s sleep, as the images of silent horses trampled their dreams, just like they had crashed into the camp the night before.
*******
Opening his eyes again, Eric felt the sting from a fresh slap to his face, as he struggled against the ropes. The man in black was yelling at him again—or still. With his head spinning, he had lost track of time.
“Where are your friends? Where were you going?”
“What?” He felt a punch to his ribs.
Again, the black clad soldier yelled at him, “Where are your friends? Where were you going?”
Eric, trying to speak, received another punch to the ribs, causing him to inhale his own words.
“Where are your friends? Where were you going?”
“I don’t know.” When a hard object hit his hand, everything went black.
*******
Zack opened his eyes.
“I told you to bring me the little one.”
He heard the short reply, ‘He wet himself when I approached and fainted.’
“Where are your friends? Where were you going?”
“What?” A hard slap stung Zack’s face.
“Where are your friends? Where were you going?”
“Where am I?” His chest exploded in pain.
The interrogator screamed at him, “Where are your friends? Where were you going?”
“Why?” After another hard slap had hit his face, he yelled back at them. “Dude! Stop hitting me.” Then he felt his nose break, “Man that hurt. Stop it you bastard!”
“Where are your friends? Where are you going?”
“Who?”
Somebody grabbed him by his long dark hair, “Tell me something vermin, or I will make you into the girl that you look like.”
“That hurts, Dude!” His eyes were watering, but through blurred vision, seeing a knife, he tried to move his head back. Feeling the blade drag across his scalp, warm blood ran down his forehead. Screaming when the knife again cut him a second time, salty blood trickled into his mouth, and someone dropped two handfuls of hair into his lap.
“Tell us what we want to know girl or we will cut off more than just your hair.”
“You’re sick man. You need help!” Feeling the punch to his face, his inner ear bones heard the sickening crack of bones breaking around his eye socket. Then everything went black.
*******
Mirtza lost count of the number of times he had blacked out and the many different ways they had woken him up. A hot iron poking into his leg caused him to scream again.
“What were you doing? Where were you going?”
Trying to catch his breath, when the hot iron touched his leg again, he screamed.
“What were you doing? Where were you going?”
“I do not know!” Feeling the hot iron on his neck, all went black.
*******
In the morning, Panry went into the forest, returning with a large handful of dirty roots, small berries, and a few other plants.
Gor looked at the raw food, “Food for trap, trap rabbit. Then I will cook it.”
“This is our breakfast, and not meat or fire shall you have,” advised Panry.
“Wrong. Food for rabbit, dwarf not. More, where is it?”
Alron looked at the Ironhouse brothers, and the little pile of raw food, “Today, dwarf eats like elf and please share.” The meal, if it could be called that, did little to satisfy the group.
The entire party waited until nightfall before continuing their southbound journey. Alron had sent Erust Huntinghawk scouting out before the last sun had set, looking for trail marks left by the Dawnfalcons. Two hours into their journey, he waited for them, reporting a sentry post a half-mile ahead, and numerous subtle signs that the Earth Guard had passed their way. Alron was pleased to know that the trail was still warm.
Once again, Lauren sang to the night, purchasing their passage through the dark woods with her voice, as they slipped by the sentry posts. As the rising sun slowly eroded the night, they again took refuge far from the road.
*******
Opening his eyes, Eric was unsure why his face hurt. When pain shot from his hand to his brain, he screamed. Focusing his eyes, he saw John hanging from chains. To his horror, he saw a whip crack across his back, making him scream.
Somebody grabbed his face, “Where were you going?”
“What the hell are you doing this for?”
A man in black leaned forward, applying pressure to Eric’s hand, rocketing pain signals into his brain, “Do you remember yesterday? Today will be worse for you and your misfits. Where were you going?”
“What the hell?” Trying to push the pain aside, he needed to make sense of what was happening. Again, he heard John scream, and saw the blood running down his back, “Stop, what do you want to know?”
“Tell us who you were with. Where you were going? What you were doing?”
“We were doing nothing. We were going nowhere.” He heard John scream again.
The man in black smiled, “He is little and won’t be able to handle much more of this.”
Receiving a punch to his ribs, he felt several break, making him gasp for air, “What do you want to know?”
“What were you doing? Where were you going?”
He screamed back, “I don’t know! We only followed!”
The angry interrogator became livid, “Lies!”
John screamed.
When a heavy object hit Eric’s arm, he felt the bone break.
“We have a wager on how much the little one can withstand, and I said that he would not last the day.”
After another blow to Eric’s forearm, he felt the small bone break, and all went dark.
*******
Zack felt the hard sting to his face.
“So you are not a girl.”
“What?” His nightmare was back.
“Are you confused? So are we.”
After he had screamed, he saw the iron poker put back into the fire.
“What were you doing? Where were you going?”
Zack shouted obscenities at them, which resulted in three hard slaps to his face. As a ring dug huge gouges into his skin, he tasted the blood when it trickled down. Even though he always found it difficult to respect any authority, this hardly seemed to be the time to break with old habits. Screaming the foulest curses at them, a metal bar crashed against his lower legs, causing the feeling in his feet to disappear, and darkness embraced him.
*******
Mirtza continued to scream as they pulled his hand out of the boiling water. After stuffing a blood soaked rag in his mouth, they dragged a red-hot iron across his chest, causing him to bite down on the gag.
“You will tell us what you were doing.” Again and again, the red-hot iron made his chest hairs burn, turning his white skin into red blisters. A man in black pulled the rag out of his mouth.
He gasped for breath, “I don’t know anything!”
“Tell us something.”
He gathered the last of his will, “Your mother visited our farm often. She came to have sex with our pigs,” and then he spat at the soldier. The response was quick, painful. When he felt his ribs break, everything faded to black.
*******
With the suns setting, the rescue party was once again on the move, avoiding sentry posts at every turn. They traveled fast throughout the night, wondering how much longer before they would find their friends.
Chapter 2
It was dark when Zack stirred. He slowly opened his good eye, as the other remained closed, bruised and bloated with fluids. Through the bars, he saw a candle burning on the desk, and he could smell the fresh breeze blowing in through the window, but it did l
ittle to lessen the stench inside the cell. As the sleep faded away, his brain began to interpret the signals sent from within his body. Pain flooded over him, like someone had broken a dam, releasing all of the unconsumed hurt, and he screamed. Feeling the chains that were holding him up, he tried to stand, but his efforts only created more waves of pain that washed over him. Sweat, tinged with the tangy taste of salty blood, fell onto his lips. Scanning the cell with blurred vision, he saw Eric hanging beside him, who looked like a football team had used him for a tackling practice. In the far corner, he saw a pile of clothing on the floor, and as he focused his one uninjured eye, he realized it was Logan. Something resembling a piece of raw meat hung to his left; another body? He was scared, vaguely remembering the last days. His mind recalled the pain, the beatings, and the torture. What’s happening? The candle on the desk caught his attention because a ring of keys rested beside it. “Got to get out of here.” He tried to move, but pain ripped through his body, “Mother fu….” Then everything went black.
IT not like. (“What’s happening?”) Pain. Hurt. (“Who’s that?”) Revenge. (“Where’re you?”) Zack felt himself fall to the floor, but it was different. (“What’s happening?”) Keys? He saw the bars approach, watched them go by. He heard himself scream, No, no, no, no, no. He saw the top of the desk, the candle, and the keys, and seeing the bars come at him, he passed by them again. He heard himself scream, Never again, never again, never again.
Opening his eyes, Zack was lying on the cell floor, naked. Noticing a pile of clothes, he reached for them, but they were not his: it was Mirtza. Finding his own clothes, he began to get dressed. Losing my mind, losing my mind, never again, have to stop, live clean, no, no, no. As he was pulling on his pants, he bumped metal: the keys. How did they get here? Man, too much, too fast. I’m losing my mind. What’s happening? When he stood up, his legs were free of pain, and he could see out of both eyes. Running his hands through his long black hair—it was all there. What the hell is happening? Taking the keys to the cell door, after he had opened it, he went over to Eric, trying each key in the lock until he crashed to the floor. Bending down, Zack gently slapped him, “Okay football captain. Need to get up. Do your hero thing, big cheers, come on, come on, come on.” When Eric failed to respond, he crawled over to release Mirtza from his chains, tried to shake him awake. “Okay magic man, wake up. Zap the bad guys, make the walls disappear, come on, come on, come on.” As he stood, he realized what was hanging to the left of him: it was John. Wrapping his arms around him, he unlocked the chains, lowering the motionless body to the ground. “What the hell is happening?” He heard a noise at the door. No, no, no, go away, and then felt an odd sensation. Oh, crap!
Zack could sense that he was hiding under the desk. Shadows. Door opens. (“What’s happening?”) Fresh. (“What?”) Bad man. Pain. Hurt. He saw the black-clad man throw himself at him. (‘NO, NO, NO, NO.’) He tasted the blood, swallowed flesh, and saw the door close
Then Zack was naked on the floor again. I’m losing my mind. This has to stop. He saw the dead body by the door, the throat missing, “No! This isn’t happening. No, no, no. Never again, no more, no, no, no.” He quickly dressed again, wondering how his clothes kept falling off. “What’s wrong with me? The dreams have never been this bad. Got to get clean, stay clean, no more, never!” Seeing the huge sword outside of the cell, he retrieved it, leaving it in the sheath, and placed it in Eric’s hand, “Okay Mr. Sword Guy, Mr. Terribly Mad Sword Guy. He needs your help. You two need to do your hero stuff. Kill the bad guys, free us, come on, come on, come on.” He heard a noise, followed by his own silent scream, Noooo!
The disembodied Zack watched the door open. (“What’s happening?”) While visions filled his mind, they were not from his own eyes, as another black-clad soldier seemed to throw himself at him. Fresh. He tasted the fresh blood. Punish (“What now?”) Hall. More Fresh. The hall slowly advanced upon him. Many. Sleeping. (“What’s happening?”) Seeing the door open, he saw the blood erupt over the white fur, watched the terror in their eyes when they threw themselves at him. He saw too much.
Zack awoke naked, again, “Sons of a bitch!” He surveyed the room: bodies were mauled, gored, crushed, and ripped open. Slipping on the slick red surface, he fell face-first onto the wet red floor. Pushing himself up, he fell onto his back, his thick hair soaking up the warm blood, which ran down his face. Crawling on all fours across the floor, wanting to vomit, he was afraid of what might come up. Listening to the door for a moment before opening it, in the hall he spotted the trail of bloody paw prints, following them to where they disappeared behind a door. Swinging it open, he saw the cell that contained his unconscious friends and his absent clothes, “This has to stop. They’ve never been this real.” Getting dressed, he tried again to wake Eric or the sword, but neither responded. Going back out to the hall, he slowly made his way past the room where he woke last, and flowing out from beneath the door, a pool of crimson blood. Continuing down the hall, he came across larger empty cells that smelled appalling, and then there was a door with sunlight visible at the bottom of it. Carefully turning the handle, he opened it. He was outside, and there was a corral with horses, ponies and wagons beside it. “Okay, so I drag them down here, putting them in a wagon, then, then, then, what the hell am I to do…” Hearing a noise, he froze. Even though the breeze carried a recognizable scent, he began to sense that odd, strange feeling. NO, NO, NO. NO!
Alron stepped around the corner, his finger held to his lips silently asking for quiet.
“Thank you, Jesus!” Zack said, falling to his knees, as he began to cry. “Thank you, Buddha! Thank you all! Whatever you want, name it. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!”
When elves appeared from around the far side, Alron signaled for them to move in. As dwarves kicked in the front door, rushing the building, Lauren moved to comfort and quiet Zack, and she saw the red dripping from his hair.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Zack, you’re hurt. You’re covered in blood, let me help.”
“It isn’t mine. I slipped in some. I’m fine, but get me away from this damned place!”
Alron not only heard Aaro signal the all clear, but the excited talk from the dwarves inside the building. When the elves entered from the rear, they saw the large cells and bloody barracks, being uncertain of what had happened. Also, they saw the bloody tracks in the hall: midlander, wolf, and bear. Meeting the dwarves in the cell room where the tracks seemed to start from, even if they were unconscious, they were relieved to find Lauren’s friends.
“Do they still breathe?” asked Alron.
“Breathe yes,” replied Fodu, “For how much longer, I do not know.”
“What has happened here?” asked Alron, seeing the dead soldiers on the floor, who both had their throats ripped out.
“Our friend, white that hunts black,” suggested Bor. “Brought friends he did?”
Knowing there was no time to investigate a new mystery, Alron shouted orders. “Wagons are out back, ponies also. Load the injured, as we do not need to spend any more time here. We need to leave now!” Seeing them pick up Eric, he was unable to believe the extent of the damage. Mother, please save my friends.
The Earth Guards and the Ironhouse brothers started to carry their unconscious friends to the back of the building. There Ryan had pushed a wagon so that the tailgate faced the door. As he was hitching a set of horses to it, Lauren helped Zack, who was still in shock, into the back of it. When Gingaar offered to retrieve their possessions, Alron refused her entrance into the building, knowing that the sights he had seen would give him nightmares for days. However, he was unable to deny entrance to the Earth Daughter, and after entering, she wandered up the hall when they were bringing John out. Viewing the bloodied rooms and bodies, she was unable to comprehend that amount of carnage. Returning to the wagon, her face was white, drained of blood, much like the black-clad corpses.
With Gingaar in the fron
t of the wagon, wiping the blood off of Zack, they laid the four motionless bodies in the back. After carefully placing in their stolen possessions, they closed the gate. Lauren stared at the four battered bodies, dumbfounded by the brutal horror frozen in her vision. She heard Panry and Alron arguing about their destination.
“To the woods,” she cried, “They’ll be looking for us on the road. I’ll need time to heal them. Now, move!”
“The tracks will be too easy to follow,” protested Alron.
“Don’t worry, there’ll be no tracks. We need to hide where they’ll never look for us.” Lauren paused, as what color had returned to her face once again drained from it. “What’s that horrible smell? Is it what I think it is?”
Zack pointed to the side yard, which extended from the back of the small prison. A large barren patch of land, several hundred yards long, stretched to the north, and hundreds of vultures sprouted from it like an obscene crop, feeding on the dead.
Retrieving their ponies from the corral, the dwarves also searched the stables for their saddles, and Bor called to Lauren, asking her to check Mirtza’s cloak for the odd magical amulets, especially the wagon that contained their armor. Gingaar, retrieved the cloak, passing it to Lauren, who rifled through the pockets, and finding all of the amulets, she nodded back.
