37 Days In A Strange World

by Dave Hazel

  Mykal saw bodies piling up around Towbar’s feet. Towbar looked to be larger than normal, just as he did the last time he saw Towbar in combat. ‘How can that be?’ The giant killed Sosos quickly and effortlessly. They ran into the massive arcs of his swinging figure eight blue steel. Towbar had been painted red with a continuous misting of Soso blood.

  Mykal ran to the far side of the upside down Honda. The intense heat from the flames jerked his head back. Two tires continued to spin. The body of Sgt Curtis laid half way out of the driver’s door window. His legs were pinned inside the wreckage and half of his head was crushed. His twisted body looked deformed, quite possibly a broken back from the car rolling over him as he fell out of the window. Curtis hadn’t been touched by the flames, but he didn’t survive.

  He stripped Curtis of his web belt and had to jerk it from under his dead weight. Void of thoughts or emotions, Mykal just reacted to what he felt needed to be done. He darted out into the open to get the thirty round magazine from the rifle that had been thrown from the vehicle. Mykal visualized himself as an insanely greedy man chasing after a few coins that had been tossed into a lion’s den. Mykal knew a time would come when the ammunition they carried would be more precious than gold.

  Nearing the rifle he saw the weapon had been destroyed. The hand guards were crushed in, damaging the gas tube, rendering it as useless junk. Shock jolted through his brain when a death arrow whizzed by his face. He turned to the direction it came from and saw the Soso re-stringing his bow. He raised his rifle to shoot, but before he squeezed the trigger, the Soso did a wild slap dance and fell to the ground from a burst of automatic gun fire.

  “Kurt, you dumb ass!” He yelled without having to see who saved him. Though happy and grateful Kurt acted like a guardian angel, he hated the idea of anyone wasting ammunition.

  Thirty round magazine in his hand he made another mad dash to the body of A1C Buckley who had been thrown clear of the Honda. Buckley looked like he put his uniform on backward. He lay on his side but his head faced the wrong direction. Besides the small trickle of blood from his nose, Buckley seemed to be free of injuries. His eyes were open, but they stared lifelessly at the swaying grass dancing near his shoulder blades.

  Mykal took the web belt from the corpse and ran back to the Marshall’s car. He dropped all the gear he collected into the back seat. He turned to run again, but an arrow slammed against the door frame. The arrow deflected upward startling him. Instinctively he ducked his head. “Damn it!”

  “Come on, Myk,” Kurt shouted at the top of his lungs. “They’re coming outta the wood work.”

  “One minute. Call for Towbar,” he ordered and darted off again. He ran to help Stinky Feet Smith bring the injured Lopez to the back of the yellow station wagon.

  Smith half carried and half dragged Lopez. Death arrows flew all around them but he didn’t seem to notice. Mykal grabbed the other side of Lopez with his left hand and fired his rifle with his right. Once they brought Lopez to the rear of the Dosch station wagon he ran off to the green Cadillac one final time.

  Mykal had one final objective; to muster the emotional strength to retrieve the web belt from his near headless friend. He tried to avoid looking at the grotesque image. While removing John’s web belt, he remembered the wedding photos of John and his wife. Sadness swelled recalling the toast for a long, happy, marriage. He seized the two rifles of Lopez and Carris.

  Running back to the Marshall’s car he jerked to a stop to look at his right hand that suddenly went numb, trembled violently and turned green. “What the--” he yelled with fright looking at his hand as if a foreign object. “Not now!”

  “Come on, Myk,” Boris shouted. “We’re gonna be overrun.”

  Boris’ words shook Mykal to re-focus. Starting for the car he felt as if he had been punched in the stomach hard. It almost knocked him over and as he moved forward, the stabbing sensation ripped through his lower right side. Stickiness against his shirt and a burning sensation made him realize he was bleeding. He looked down and to his ultimate horror a black arrow stuck out of his belly just below the protective armor of his flack vest.

  “Nooooo!” Mykal howled while jumping into the rear seat of the car. Kurt drove off before Mykal had the door shut. Mykal felt like barbed wire had twisted and ripped his insides with the rough transition into the car. He trembled at the sight of the death arrow protruding from his body. “No!” He bellowed louder and slammed his hand on the seat. It didn’t matter how much internal damage he did. The black arrow shaft meant he reached the two-minute-warning of the last game of his life.

  “What is it Myk?” Kurt asked while driving like a maniac through the mass of Sosos. His eyes pierced through the windshield, his knuckles white around the steering wheel.

  “Oh God, if You’re real, if You’re there, please help me,” he moaned quietly as he stared at the black wood penetrating his red soaked shirt. He assumed he would last a couple of days based on Baby Ray’s struggle. He regretted coveting John’s ammo.

  “Oh shit!” Boris gasped in horror when he looked back and saw the death arrow. Blood spread from Mykal’s shirt and wetted his trousers. “Towbar, whatta we do?” Boris cried out.

  “What’s wrong?” Kurt yelled, still focused straight ahead of him.

  The giant didn’t answer. Towbar’s face said it all. His sad expression gave Mykal and Boris a sense of total hopelessness. Towbar previously declared, “Death arrows always kill!”

  “What can we do!?” Boris demanded again.

  “I’m hit with a death arrow,” Mykal answered Kurt.

  “We must wait,” Towbar said in a calm controlled tone while Kurt yelled a string of profanities. “It is possible the poison is inferior and may not work.” Towbar turned his head. He didn’t look like he believed his own words.

  “Towbar, I don’t wanna die,” Mykal moaned pitifully. “I gotta see my wife and kids again. Please, don’t let me die. Is there a doctor in Gartolin who can help?” He wanted to break down and sob like a child, but he knew he had to be strong in front of the others.

  “Why’d you have to play the hero?” Kurt yelled and slapped the steering wheel. “You’d be okay if we’d a left them alone,” he scolded Mykal like an upset parent responding to foolish actions of a child that ended in injury. “I told you not to mess around.”

  “Shut up Kurt,” Boris snapped.

  “My hand turned green again,” Mykal said and looked at the greenish flesh losing the odd color. “I stopped to look at my hand cuz it started shaking. That’s when I got hit.”

  “I wonder if that means the green fog is here again,” Boris said with hopeful enthusiasm. “Maybe if we find it we can get to it.”

  “No, it was weaker than the other times, and now it’s fading away already,” Mykal replied and eyed his greenish hand.

  Towbar looked out the rear window. “We must stop and take the arrow out as soon as possible. The Sosos are far behind us.”

  “Call Denny and let him know what’s going on.” Mykal gave a sigh after a twinge of pain when he re-adjusted himself.

  “Denny, we gotta pull over,” Boris called into the radio.

  “Why, what’s up?” Larry replied before Denny did.

  “Myk’s been hit,” Boris said and un-keyed the microphone. “I don’t want others to hear, but I know they all heard it.”

  “Is he alright?” Larry’s concern blared from the speaker.

  “It’s a Shay-lonk,” Boris said and turned to Towbar. “Did I say it right? Cuz we’re the only ones who understand that word.”

  “Yes, you said it correctly. It is a terrible word.”

  “Who’s hurt?” Denny asked. “We didn’t hear it all.”

  “Just come back here,” Boris snapped when Kurt stopped.

  Mykal tried to smile. “Listen guys, I really mean this, I don’t want you guys giving up any of this ammo,” he said while patting the web belts. “If I don’t die, these are mine. You know I’ll share with you guy
s. If I do die, then I pass these down to you, cuz you’re gonna need them.”

  “Don’t say that,” Kurt said while he helped Mykal exit the car.

  “Oh no, oh no,” he moaned with the movement. “It feels like it’s trying to cut through to the other side.” He grabbed at the pain, but that didn’t help. His legs shook nervously.

  “Boris, help me get this damn flack vest off of him,” Kurt barked while trying to move Mykal. “If the damn arrow would have been an inch higher you’d be fine.”

  “Whoa, easy, easy, easy!” Mykal winced at their help.

  After removing the flack vest and cutting through the shirt and t-shirt, Kurt touched the bump on Mykal’s back where the tip of the arrow almost cut through. “It’s right here, Myk,” Kurt said and gently touched it so Mykal would know. “We need to push it through so we can break the head off and then we can pull the arrow back out. That’ll be best for you.”

  “Let’s just hurry,” Mykal said impatiently. “It’s really starting to burn like hell. It feels like you’re holding a match to my skin.”

  “Myk, this is gonna hurt a little so--”

  “I know, I know! Just come on,” Mykal barked as Jake, Denny and Roy pulled their vehicles to a halt. He saw other vehicles had turned around and were headed back toward them. “Hurry, I don’t want everyone to see me like this.”

  “Towbar, would you hold Mykal up so I can push this arrow through him.”

  “Yeah, hold my arms back so I don’t try to fight or wiggle away. Boris, hold my legs down.”

  Denny ran from his vehicle. His pale, fearful, gaze looked like any parent running into an emergency room. Denny stared at the black shaft, his chest sank. “Myk, what did you do now?”

  “I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.” He said as Towbar put a monstrous locking grip on his frame locking his arms behind his back. “But look at my cammy shirt. I just put this one on today and ‘dipshit’ here, had to cut such a large hole in it.” He nodded to Kurt in an attempt to be funny. “Oooh yeah, come on guys, it’s really starting to hurt. Get this over with!”

  “Me and my boys will go keep watch,” Roy said sadly and walked away. “We won’t let them damn Sosos get close.”

  It surprised Mykal how strong Towbar’s grip locked onto him.

  Jake approached and turned away. “Oh, I can’t watch this.” He joined Roy and his sons.

  “Just try to relax Myk and I’ll count to three,” Kurt said as he gripped the shaft.

  “Don’t count, just--uuunnnggggaaahhh!” Kurt fooled him by not counting and pushed the arrow head through his back. Once the arrow head was pushed through his flesh, Mykal let out another yell. Mykal experienced a new sensation of pain. He felt the arrowhead cut through the inside of his back, and he also sensed everything inside his body being yanked to his back.

  Towbar’s vice like grip made him powerless to react to the extremely intense pain. He could only moan and whimper. His eyes welled with tears in response to the ridiculous increase of pain that filled his body.

  “Stop! I can’t take it anymore,” he groaned. His insides ignited into a pit of fire. The poison started its death work.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Lt Light asked when he ran into view.

  Boris spoke from his kneeling position where he held Mykal’s legs. “Sir, we gotta get this arrow outta him. This is one of the death arrows we’ve been telling everyone about.”

  “Let me know what you would like me to do,” Light offered. “Hey Mykal, I want you to know that when we get back I’m putting in recommendations for you to be awarded for your many selfless acts of bravery,” he said in an obvious attempt to distract Mykal from the procedure. “I’m personally impressed with your genuine concern for others.”

  With a sharp snap Mykal’s body rocked and his insides contracted when Kurt broke off the arrow head. He groaned helplessly as Kurt dragged the rest of the arrow out the front of his body. Mykal felt like Kurt pushed a flag pole through him rather than the arrow shaft. His body fell limp. Everything around him turned black and quiet.

  #######

  “I’m sorry, Myk,” Kurt said to the unconscious form in the giant’s arms. “I wish the bastard who shot this was here right now,” Kurt said and threw the blood covered shaft to the ground.

  “Oh man, I hope he pulls through. We all owe him a lot,” Boris said verging on tears. “He’s one of my best friends.”

  “I owes him ma life,” Stinky Feet Smith said in a slow southern drawl. “I’d be dead righ’ now if’n it wer’n fir him.”

  “We’d all be dead right now,” Lt Light added.

  Jake returned when he saw that Kurt had finished. “Sir, where are Edwards and Mansfield?”

  Light looked somewhat embarrassed to answer for his fellow officer. “I don’t know,” he said. “They kept going and haven’t responded to radio calls.”

  Towbar carried Mykal to the back of the Dosch station wagon. Denny and Franklin walked with him.

  Jake took a couple of deep breaths. “Sir, I want to be very careful how I say this, but I’m pissed off to high heaven. This would not have happened if they would have stuck to our plan. Three of our men are dead and so is one civilian. Two of those men are your people. And based on what Towbar says about these arrows, these Soso death arrows, Mykal will die. Edwards and Mansfield are to blame. I’m gonna lose my cool if he dies, Sir.”

  “I understand your concern Sgt Irwin, but--”

  “No Sir! You don’t!” Jake raised his voice and pointed his long finger at him. “This is twice now that people have died because of them. And Mykal is one of my close friends.”

  “Sgt Irwin, I do understand your emotions, because I’m feeling them myself. So please, let’s you and I discuss this away from everyone else.”

  Boris, Kurt, Larry, Sam and Rich stood there to see what would be said.

  “I hope Edwards and Mansfield are fine,” Boris said with a deceptive friendly smile. “Not because I want them to feel guilty or anything like that. I just wanna be there to watch them when they get it.”

  “Right on, brother,” Sam laughed and high-fived him.

  “I’m not sure if that was meant to be a threat Airman Traginsky, but I will not tolerate threats of any kind, especially in our present circumstances. Is that clear?”

  “Yes Sir. Very clear,” he answered nonchalantly.

  “Just so you know Sir,” Larry stepped up. “We five, are one, and we don’t make threats. But what goes around comes around, so we are gonna be there when they get theirs.”

  Light looked stunned. “Sgt Irwin, I trust your men can be controlled and won’t respond foolishly from their current emotional state,” he said and turned away.

  “Sir, I assure you, everything will be fine. They’re just a little angry. Like I said, twice now, Lt Edwards and TSgt Mansfield have been responsible for the…”

  7.

  Mykal woke up some time later. He knew he rested inside the bed of the Dosch station wagon. The ride was bumpy, his head pounded, and his mouth felt dry. The burning inside his body felt like red-hot coals had been placed inside the wound.

  “It feels like something chewing on my insides,” he said softly. “The burning won’t stop,” he mumbled. “I’m sweating like a pig,” he added. “I’m burning up and it hurts,” he groaned.

  “Hey Myk.” Rich gave a wide smile when Mykal opened his eyes. Rich sat in the bed of the station wagon with Mykal. “Are you awake? Cuz you been doin’ a whole lotta talkin’ in your sleep, buddy. How are ya feelin’?”

  “I feel like crap,” he moaned weakly. “I’m burnin’ up and I’m dizzy as hell. I can’t even see straight,” he said and he tried to sit up.

  “Now, now, gotta just lay still,” Rich gently held him down. “Towbar says you have to stay as still as possible or that poison will work through your system faster.”

  “Where is Towbar?”

  “I am here, my friend,” the giant’s voice came from
the seat in front of him.

  “Who else is here?” Mykal asked through squinty eyes.

  “Roy, and his boys,” Rich said. “Boris and Kurt are riding with others. We lost the Marshall’s and Denny’s vehicles.”

  “Did we get attacked again?” He asked.

  “No, nothing like that. Both of ‘em ran out of gas.”

  “Where’s Lopez? He was in here before me. He didn’t die did he?”

  “Na, he’s fine,” Rich chuckled. “It looks like he might have broken his nose. It’s all pushed to one side. He looks funnier than all get out,” he said and used his finger to push his nose to one side. “But he might also have some broken ribs. No one can tell for sure, but he’s alive. He told me to tell you first thing when you woke up, ‘thanks’. He said thank you for saving his life. He said you’re a hero.”

  Mykal remained silent. He didn’t see anything heroic about his selfish actions in trying to hoard more ammunition for his own survival. He wanted to yell and curse himself. His actions of selfishness and greed put him in a life and death tug-o-war.

  “The other one said to thank you as well,” Towbar said. “The one with the smelly feet.”

  “Stinky Feet Smith.” A smile creased Mykal’s lips.

  “Myk, Stinky Feet told me what happened to them,” Rich said. “He said when they were getting close to the Sosos, the old man grabbed his chest, and he looked like he couldn’t breathe. Before they could grab the steering wheel, he smashed into the little white car. Everyone thinks the old guy had a heart attack. I just can’t believe John is dead.” Rich frowned. “I’m busted up about it.”

  “Did you hear how he died?” Mykal barely whispered.

  “Yeah. Stinky Feet told me what happened. Me an John were good ol’ boys from way back when. We used to be close drinkin’ buddies before he up an got married. I still can’t believe he’s gone. An ol’ Stinky Feet is one lucky dog, that’s for sure.”