He Who Dares: Book One (The Gray Chronicals 1)

by Rob Buckman

  Instead of following the rest, the moment everyone started running, Mike took off at an angle towards the closest patch of jungle. Changing direction the moment he entered concealment. He counting to ten, then changing direction again. He did this for one minute, then stopped and looked around. In the semi-gloom under the canopy, everything turned a shade of green, with small patches of sunlight filtering down thought a crack in the canopy somewhere high above. Around his, trees of every size and description grew, and it was impossible to see more than ten feet in any direction. The one distinguishing feature of the tree was no low growing branches. With little or no direct sunlight down this low, the tree had adapted and grown outward at their tops. Sapling of all sizes covered the ground between the tree, all trying to reach for the sunlight high above. Vines twisted and wrapped themselves around the larger trees, encasing some of them to the point where the trunk couldn’t be seen, strangling them in slow motion. Ever suspicious, Mike first pulled the power pack out of the emergency transponder and stripped down to his pants and shirt. He then wrapped the rest into a bundle and wrapped it with the nylon cord before locating a big mud puddle and rolled around in it. He emerged a while later covered from head to foot in the sticky black goo, whereupon he rolled around on the jungle floor in the leaf deposit. Instant camouflage, messy but effective. Taking care not to leave a trail, Mike circles around the clearing until he was behind the team house before locating a suitable vine-encrusted tree he could climb. It took a while, but he found a comfortable perch high enough to see the clearing and remain hidden. He had to admit, the Chief instructor was as good as his word, and he did wait a full hour before signaling the hunters to take off. Mike settled down and took a short nap figuring it would be at least an hour before they came back with the first unlucky Cadet.

  He was right, two of the hunters, a man and a woman return with three cadets, hands bound behind their backs and looking very unhappy. After stripping them down to the underwear they herded the unfortunate cadets into a stockade under the watchful eye of the senior instructor. From his position, Mike couldn’t hear what they said, but from the expressions on their faces, he could tell they were happy. They nodded to the senior man and took off again. That was how it went for most of the day, and by nightfall, they had nineteen of the original twenty-four cadets in custody. So far, Janice, Heartmore, Williams and Perry had evaded capture, and he wished them luck. It didn’t last long. Half an hour later, one of the female Marines came back with Jan. That left Heartmore and his two cronies’ unaccounted for. Mike careful brushed ants away from his face, thankful they weren’t the biting gnats they had back home. Still, if he were back home, he’d have a couple of lizards keeping them off him. One or two lizards did come up to him, but they didn’t stay around after he’d scratched their crest ridge. The evening wore on with no further captures, but Mike didn’t move. His position was perfect to see into the hooch, and if he didn’t move, they couldn’t find him. He didn’t doubt that at least one hunter was on his trail as he’d heard movement near his tree earlier. By 8 o’clock, all the hunters were back and eating dinner, so they’d probably take up the chase again at first light. There was nothing magnanimous in that, as the poor cadets would have to spend a sleepless, hungry and cold night in the jungle. They didn’t bother feeding the captured cadets either, as this was part of the punishment for getting caught. At midnight, Mike slowly climbed down from his perch and began worming his way from the edge of the jungle to the stockade. He chose a place as far from the hooch as possible, and out of the glare of the floodlights. They did have a guard out, but he only circled the stockade once every hour.

  It struck Mike as odd that none of the cadets were following the mission objectives, and trying to escape, as all sat huddled together in small groups against the log wall, looking totally dejected. It didn’t take long to find Jan, but he knew he’d have to take care not to startle her. In the end, he just lay there and tossed small twigs at her until she turned her head. At first she looked at him and saw nothing, then turned away. He threw more twigs, and she looked back, a puzzled expression on her face. This time Mike waved, showing her the relatively clean palm of his hand. She froze, as if now sure of what she was looking at, so he smiled. That broke through and her eyes open wide in surprise. He placed his forefinger to his lips, then made staying motion with his hands, seeing her nod in reply. Earlier, he’d spotted three people heading to a place on the furthest point from the hooch, guessing where they were going. The smell led him to the place and a quick survey showed that at some time, someone had dug a pit for a latrine. The resulting overflow from the frequent rains now passing under the stockade wall in a mushy trench, half filled with rainwater, mud, slime and other unmentionable items. He spent a careful fifteen minutes digging the trench on the outside deeper and down into a gully. He started to worm his way back to Jan and explain his plan of escape, then froze. Two men and a woman exited the hooch, but he wasn’t what they were after. They pulled one of the cadets out of the stockade and dragged him back to the house. The interrogation had started. It was just like them to wait until their victim was at his lowest point before starting. Even at this distance, he could hear the sound of the slaps and punches, shaking his head in distaste. On Avalon, they had more efficient ways of extracting information from someone. For a moment, he was torn between rescuing Jan and going to the luckless cadet’s aid. In the end, he sighed, knowing he was about to do something very stupid, and probably painful. Finding a hiding spot, he stashed his bundle, and cleaned off the best he could, then simply walked up to the house. He stood there a moment, scratching his head and looking puzzled.

  “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” A voice behind him asked.

  “Is this the local YMCA?” He asked, looking around him myopically.

  “Yes, it is. Why don’t you come right in and make yourself at home.”

  “Thanks, don’t mind if I do.” He grinned as the man came round in front of him.

  “Get in there you stupid burk!”

  “Geez, I didn’t know the YMCA permitted that kind of language…“ At that point, the man hit him, and he acted as if stunned by the blow. A second man came out, and between them, they dragged him into the house.

  “Here’s another one for you, Chief.”

  “Where did you find this one?”

  “Oh, he walked right in, must have got lost or something.”

  “Jesus! How stupid can you be?” He muttered.

  “Dumped or lost his clothes and survival gear by the look of it.”

  “All right, you two. Take this one out and put him back in the cage, then back out on guard, we’ll take it from here.” The two men departed with the bloody, battered, luckless cadet while the other two lifted Mike up and dumped him in the vacated chair. One dumped a bucket of tepid water over his head, and Mike looked up, a silly smile on his face.

  “I don’t suppose you two idiots have ever heard of TD-Penta?”

  “What?” The senior man asked.

  “Thought not.”

  Mike shot out of the chair and nailed the closest man in the Center of his chest with a clenched fist. He didn’t pull his punches either, and the man stumbled backwards with a loud ‘Ooofff’ before he fell down and lay there gasping for breath. The senior man was fast, coming in with a swinging sidekick. All he got for his trouble was an iron hand gripping his ankle and jerking him off his feet.

  “Was there any real need to beat the crap out of the poor cadet like that?” Mike asked, circling to the left.

  “What the hell do you think this place it, a summer holiday camp!” The man scrambled to his feet.

  “I’m glad you said that.” Mike answered and stepped in under the next punch to land a rock hard fist just under the man’s rib cage.

  “Oh shit!” The man gasped as something cracked. He slumped to the floor hardly able to breathe. The next thing Mike knew was the lights going out as someone zapped him from behind. It was expected, but he
’d accomplished what he started out to do and given them a little pain.

  “What the hell was that all about?” One of the SAS men demanded as he walked up, pointing the stun gun at the prone body, just in case he needed another jolt.

  “How the hell should I know!” The senior man gasped.

  It didn’t take long to discover that both men had busted ribs, and cursing and swearing they called their commander. He wasn’t happy hearing the news, but immediately climbed aboard a shuttle and headed out to the camp. He arrived an hour later and listened to the two man’s report, while the medic prepared them for transport back to the base.

  “Sounds to me like someone was playing hero.” He muttered. Who was it?”

  “Um, we aren’t sure yet. The man was covered from head to foot in mud.”

  “Well, damn it! Find out. I want that cadet’s ass.” Mike came to with his head in Jan’s lap, not a bad place to be from his point of view, but his head hurt.

  “How are you feeling?” She asked.

  “Shitty, thank you for asking.” Squeezing his eye shut against the pounding headache.

  “So what was that all about?”

  “What?”

  “You walk in there like you were lost and getting beaten up for your trouble.”

  “Who said I was getting beaten up?” Mike asked, smiling.

  “What?”

  “I just got zapped is all.”

  “Then what was all that noise about… Oh my lord! You went in there to beat the shit out of the interrogators!”

  “And to get myself in here with you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, I missed you.”

  “Right!” She snorted. “I look like the picture of a beauty queen right now.”

  “Don’t smell too good either.”

  “Thank you for mentioning that, I’m sure I would have missed it otherwise.”

  “You are going to smell worse in a while.”

  “What?”

  “We have to go, while they’re distracted.”

  “Go? Go where?”

  “To El Charco of course, and those three day passes.”

  “Oh, right, from inside a prison stockade.”

  “Round up the others and follow me.”

  “You’re serious, aren’t you.”

  “Of course.”

  Only eighteen out of the twenty cadets turned up, as the one they’d interrogated wasn’t fit to travel, and his partner didn’t want to leave him. Quickly but quietly, he led them to the far side of the stockade and the lavatory pit. Here he lost five more, as one look and a sniff convinced them they rather stay here and take their chances. Mike shrugged, he has done his best. Using a bit of moss and clay, he rolled them into two small balls and pushed one up each nostril and into his ears. He then breathing in and out fast, he purged his lungs and pumped oxygen into his system, then took the plunge. It was as bad as he’d thought it would be, and by the time he’d slithered down the trench and under the edge of the stockade he’d lost three more that turned back. Jan on the other hand stayed with him, and he was glad she did. He’d hate to have to go back for her. Slowly and carefully, he wormed his way into the dark cover of the jungle and down a slight dip before he stopped. If they had infrared detectors, they should be out of sight down here. One by one, the other followed, more than one throwing up the moment they were safe.

  “God, Mike, couldn’t you have found a better way to escape.” Jan spat to get the taste of vomit out of her mouth, but the smell kept making her gag.

  “All the other ways are covered, sorry about that.”

  “What the hell do we do now?” Someone whispered out of the darkness.

  “There’s a river about a quarter of a mile from here. I suggest we make our way there, clean off first. They won’t know we are gone for about half an hour."

  "Then what the hell do we do."

  "By that time will be long gone and in hiding.”

  Without waiting for their agreement, Mike took off down the dim trail towards the sound of running water. As much as he'd like to have told them to keep quiet, he knew it would be useless, seeing they couldn’t see as well as the dark as he could. They all stumbled and cursed as they tripped over unseen roots or stepped into deep mud holes. Stepping out onto the narrow river bank, they all immediately plunged into the cold water, but Mike didn’t give them time to clean off but immediately started downstream, swimming with the current.

  “Mike!”

  “We can’t hang around here. Let’s go.”

  Reluctantly, they followed, and Mike kept to the shallows rather than risk them in the fast flowing water further out. From the quick glimpse he’d got from the top of the hill, this River, the Rio Biesa flow smooth and straight for about half a mile before curving out of sight. He wasn’t about to risk their lives on the unknown around the bend, and this swim was more about breaking their trail. Once the trackers reached the bank of the river, they would have no way of knowing which way they’d gone. That meant they’d have to split their forces and search along the banks up and down the river to find out where they come out. Keeping one eye on the riverbank, and the other on the rest of the group he looked for a place they could exit without leaving a trail. A small side stream offered a possibility, but Mike rejected it. Too obvious and sure to be searched. There was no way he could be sure none of the other left some sort of trail, or an indication they’d passed that way. The distant sound of thundering water drew his attention as somewhere ahead the river plunged over a waterfall. Mike shivered slightly, but it had nothing to do with the cold water.

  If he didn’t catch all the people following him, in his present condition there was no way he could swim fast enough to catch them and get them ashore before they went over the falls. He had no way of knowing how far the drop was, or the conditions at the bottom. Thankfully he caught all the people and ushered them ashore with a warning to only step on the rocks. Helping the last one, Janice, ashore he checked as best he could that none of them had left any tracks. It was still possible for an expert tracker to locate their exit point, dim footprints in the mud in the shallow, slow moving water, scuffed moss or a slightly displaced rock where someone had put their weight on it. Nothing an ordinary person would notice, but to a tracker’s eye, they were like neon signs pointing the way. Skipping across the bounder covered strip of riverbank, he reached the edge of the jungle before the others. Pausing for a moment he picked the best path, and lifting a giant fern he indicated they should squat down and work their way up a narrow, rocky stream bed that angled up the hillside. It wasn’t much, but the babbling stream would erase any trace of their passing within moments. Working his way around them, Mike took the lead as dawn started to lessen the darkness around them. Higher up, the stream fell over a waterfall in a solid stream that hid a deep undercut hollow out behind it. Gratefully, all four slumped to the damp floor, grateful for the rest at last as Mike vanished downstream. Reaching the giant fern screening the river, Mike squatted down and searched the river back for any signs of their passage. As far as he could tell without exposing himself, there was nothing out of place that might draw the attention of the trackers. No muddy footprint, scuffed or displaced rocks, and thanks to the light rain the tops of the rocks they’d skipped across were now washed clean. That only left this little stream. There were a lot more plants and moss to scuff or damage, and working his way back upstream he removed or repaired what little damage he could find. They’d been lucky in their escape so far, but he knew the instructors back at the camp would be hopping mad that anyone had escaped, let alone five. The hunt would be on with a vengeance.

  “What now, Mike?”

  “Just rest for now, Jan and get as much sleep as you can.”

  “And then?

  “And then we make this little picnic a little more interesting for our beloved captors.”

  “Something tells me you are going to get really, really mean.”

  “Oh, you have no idea.”


  “Gray, this is supposed to be an exercise in escape and evasion.” Rodney Simpson grouched. It was something he’d expect from one of Heartmore’s ‘in’ group. In one way he was surprised to see him in the stockade in the first place as the rest of Heartmore’s usual hanger on were still out there. That in itself was a bit of a surprise as he would have thought that Heartmore and company would be the first to get caught.

  “So what happened to your gallant leader, Simpson. How come you got left behind? Even in the dim light inside the cave, Mike saw Simpson blush.