37 Days In A Strange World

by Dave Hazel

  “Aw man, I feel terrible,” Mykal complained. “I’m so hot and tired. I feel like my brain is boiling.”

  “Mykal, my friend, it is very important that your body rest. You must sleep,” Towbar instructed. “Please do not fight resting at this time.”

  “And I’m supposed to tell you, that nut job Ski says he’s praying for you and that God is going to do a miracle on you,” Rich scoffed. “He said something about God bringing you here, well you know the kinda nonsense that church boy talks about.”

  “Towbar, do you think I’m going to die?” Mykal asked.

  “You are my friend,” Towbar said and put one of his large hands on Mykal’s shoulder. “I will not lie to you. Your condition is not good. Your condition has worsened rapidly. That is not good. If there is any hope, you must do as I say and rest. Be strong and fight the poison. Rest, my friend.”

  Mykal’s heart nearly stopped when Towbar told him the truth about his life and death struggle. Part of him wanted to give up and allow death to take him just to make the pain stop. He pictured the faces of Pamela and his two sons. It served as a small dose of emotional medicine shot into his heart.

  He feared sleeping. He didn’t think he would wake up, but Towbar can be trusted. ‘Do as the giant prescribes and rest.’

  Mykal woke up some time later when he felt his body being rocked from side to side. He could hear distant voices but he couldn’t open his eyes and pull himself from his unconscious state. No longer hot and sweaty he shivered with cold. He heard the sound of his teeth chattering and his feet were so cold they ached. He strained to hear the conversation but he drifted off into blackness.

  CHAPTER SEVEN – Day 7

  1. Wednesday, June 29th 1983

  0914 hours, Gartolin- home of town elder.

  Mykal stirred from his deep sleep, but his heavy eyelids wouldn’t open. “Am I dead?” he whispered.

  “No! You are not dead,” a female voice said with surprise.

  Mykal’s dreams had been bizarre and non-stop. He couldn’t tell if the female voice belonged to his sleep world or the material world. His mind played a kaleidoscope of bright vibrant colors and shapes of dazzling designs. The terrifying nightmares were made of heart pounding realism. “Am I losing my mind?”

  “I do not understand. How does one misplace one’s mind?” The same female voice asked.

  “Frozen food and blue frogs dressed in roses don’t match.”

  “I do not understand. Are you awake?” She asked quietly.

  “No, I don’t understand. They say I wear my heart on my sleeve but my remarks are off the cuff,” he chuckled.

  “Are you dreaming?” She spoke low. “You do not make sense.”

  He realized his mind stepped away from la-la-land when the eye-squinting, bone-crushing, pain racked his body. “Unghhh,” he groaned. “It even hurts to breathe.” He opened his eyes but saw everything through a blur. “Where am I?” He blinked repeatedly, hoping to clear his vision.

  He lifted the blanket to look at the area burning in his body. A damp white cloth covered the painful area. It startled him to see the bandage moving as if something alive hid there. Lifting the material something throbbed under his skin like an unborn monster from a horror movie.

  From the entry point of his wound to his sternum a large, thick, black swelling in the shape of a hefty sausage pulsated. It looked to be nine to ten inches long.

  He remembered hearing voices in his sleep discussing the “thing” under his skin. Towbar told others it was the poison moving to his heart. Panic struck.

  “Aw damn. I don’t wanna die,” he moaned. Realization set in from memory he had been struck by a death arrow. It felt like glowing red hot metal had been placed on top of his skin and inside his body. “I can’t breathe,” he gasped in anguish.

  Mykal closed his eyes tightly to convince himself the pain wasn’t as bad as he feared. “Mind over matter,” he mumbled.

  “You must rest,” suggested the soft female voice. Her words sounded like they came from a tunnel far away.

  “Who’s there?” Mykal asked. “Are you in my head?”

  “I can not be in your head. It is physically impossible. You say many strange things. Are you awake now?”

  He felt someone leaning over him, putting a slight amount of pressure on the side of his bed. A gentle touch pressed against his forearm. He refused to open his eyes for fear of making the pain real. The woman didn’t sound like any of the civilians he had spoken to in camp. “Am I dreaming?”

  “I do not know. Are you feeling better?”

  “Better than what?” He opened his eyes and pain bit fast like a disturbed Moray eel darting from its coral reef burrow. “Ohhh, it frickin hurts. But I feel high as a kite,” he added. “I got this dizzying buzz in my head. Who are you? A death angel? Are you here to take me away?”

  “My name is Doninka. I do not wish to wake you if you are still sleeping. I am here to watch over you, for Towbar.”

  “Towbar? Where’s Towbar? Where am I? If you know where Towbar is then get him. Get him now!” Terror struck with the comprehension he’d been left alone with a stranger. ‘How could my friends leave me? Did they leave me to die?’

  His eyes continued to go in and out of focus. He assumed blindness had to be setting in. ‘Death arrow poison attacks the brain while killing the body,’ he remembered Towbar saying.

  “Shhhh.” She placed a reassuring hand on his chest to still him. “You are in good hands. You must be calm and rest. You need to rest,” she asserted when he started to thrash about.

  “I can’t friggin see,” Mykal exaggerated the blurriness of his sight. “I don’t know who you are. I gotta get outta here. Towbar!” he panicked. “Boris, Kurt! Denny, Larry!” He hurt his mid-section yelling for help. Mykal curled into a fetal position to cradle the pain. “Help me,” he gasped.

  “Please, stop,” Doninka pleaded and sounded scared.

  “Help me. Please help me,” he begged just above a whisper.

  “I will summon Towbar.”

  Mykal heard Doninka run across the wood floor. A door opened, closed and then nothing. Silence! Deafening silence!

  He pulled the blanket off and the sudden jerking motion introduced a new stabbing sensation. The burning increased. Standing on the floor, his knees nearly buckled under the weight of his own body. His head filled with a fuzzy dizziness.

  When he turned toward the door he staggered to one side as if he just got off a carnival ride. His body stumbled forward and backward in an attempt to navigate the motion of the room. His wobbly legs wouldn’t go where he set course. Trying to maintain his balance everything faded to black. As he fell he grabbed hold of a small table near the bed. The table toppled over knocking towels and a bucket of water to the floor.

  The water revived him from the blackness. He started to pull himself up but a tugging soreness made him fear he would rip open his wound. He allowed his body to go limp in the water and towels until help arrived. Mykal knew he made his situation worse. He resigned himself to the fact that he couldn’t leave on his own. He needed help.

  Self-pity and frustration trounced his will to fight. He wanted to give up. The pain deepened, wooziness overpowered him, and blurriness terrified him. Without sight he would rather die.

  The cool of the water against his feverish face felt good. Many footsteps running toward him gave a sense of relief. He knew he should have stayed on the bed.

  “No, my friend! You should not have moved,” Towbar said in a scolding tone. He carried Mykal and gently put him on the bed.

  “Towbar, my Lord, I am sorry.” Doninka sounded terrified. “He became violent and he called for you.”

  “You were instructed not to leave his side for any reason.” Towbar’s rarely seen anger boomed inside the little room.

  “I was frightened for him, my Lord. I meant no harm.”

  “Leave this room. We will discuss this at a later time.”

  “Yes, my Lord. I thoug
ht I was helping,” she quivered.

  “Leave this room now!”

  Mykal held one hand to his side and the other hand to his head. “Don’t be mad at her,” Mykal said weakly as she rushed past the others. “The girl didn’t do anything wrong, I did it.”

  “Yes, my friend.”

  “Is he okay?” Kurt called from outside the door.

  Boris, Larry, Denny, Sam and Rich all spoke over each other making an indistinct babbling noise.

  Mykal ignored his friends. “Towbar, what’s wrong with me? My eyes keep getting blurry. It’s hard to see. I’m so dizzy.”

  “It is the poison trying to take control of your mind. You must fight it or you will go insane. You must be still. Rest!”

  “I’m scared. I’m burning up again and I hurt like hell.”

  “Yes I see, my friend. It appears your fever has returned.”

  “Who’s here?” Mykal rubbed his eyes, but the blur remained.

  “Denny, Boris, Kurt, Larry, Sam and Rich are all at the door waiting to enter. Would you like to speak to them?”

  “Yeah.” He smiled when he heard boots thud on the wood. The clattering noise of helmet chin-straps and M-16 shoulder slings provided a familiar comfort. Each man touched Mykal’s arm or leg to let Mykal know they were there.

  “Where are we?” Mykal asked. He closed his eyes tightly hoping when he opened them the distortion would disappear. He saw his friends but they were all veiled in a haze.

  “We are inside the Pass in the town of Gartolin,” Towbar answered. “You are in the home of a friend.”

  “Sarge, you got it cushy,” Kurt chuckled. “You got a nice big bed while we’re all sleeping outside on the ground.”

  “How long have I been sleeping?” He ignored Kurt’s humor.

  “We arrived in Gartolin the day before yesterday,” Towbar answered. “The same day you fell to the Soso archer.”

  “I’ve been out that whole time?”

  “Yes, my friend. Rest did your body good. You are alive.”

  “If this is good, then I quit. I can’t take anymore.”

  “Hang in there Myk,” Boris spoke and patted his leg. “We need you to get better.”

  “So, how you feeling Myk?” Denny asked.

  “I’m screwed up. I never felt like this before,” he huffed in frustration while rubbing his eyes. “I’ve been having so many weird, off the wall, bizarre dreams. But the pain is the worst.”

  “Why the hell did you have to try to be a hero?” Kurt’s new tone unmasked his anger. “You shoulda let those idiots die.”

  “Not now, Kurt. I’m too friggin dizzy to argue. Towbar, give it to me straight. What are my chances of surviving this?”

  Towbar spoke slowly. “From what I see now, my friend, you may not survive through the night.”

  “What?” Kurt gaped. “What the hell would you say that for?”

  “I will not lie to my friend.”

  “You didn’t have to say it to him like that,” Kurt snapped.

  “Kurt, stop.” Mykal raised his hand, but the room filled with murmurs. A glazed look washed over his face as he tried to process the words that he might not live through the night.

  “I spoke truth to his question,” Towbar spoke firmly.

  “That was mighty big of you,” Kurt snarled sarcastically.

  “I do not understand how my size factors into this.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you got?” Kurt seethed. “If he’s your friend, why don’t you friggin do something?”

  “Kurt, let it go,” Mykal said. He heard Kurt’s frustration whistling past the boiling point.

  “It is a death arrow,” Towbar reminded them. He sounded defensive and stunned that anyone would challenge him.

  “I don’t care!” Kurt retorted. He foolishly balled his fists. “After all he’s done for you, you can’t do anything? He even saved your ass on the beach when we first met. He got us together to warn your people and then pulled all our people together to hold the Pass. He’s done so much for you, but you haven’t lifted a frickin’ finger to help him in any way.”

  “Kurt, don’t,” Mykal whispered and moaned.

  Kurt continued his rant despite Mykal’s plea. “Even Ski and his religious nuts are praying ‘for a healing’. You’re like a god around here to your people and you’re going to let him die like a damn animal without doing a friggin thing to help him.”

  “Kurt, stop! That’s not gonna help,” Denny said.

  “No, I’m not gonna stop! Look at that!” Kurt pointed to the trail of black swelling in Mykal’s flesh. “Is Mykal really your friend? Or is that just a fake-ass word you use to sound good?”

  “Please, stop yelling,” Mykal moaned and grabbed his head with both hands. The black track through his belly pulsed. The base of the wound opened and black pus oozed out.

  “I gotta get the hell outta here,” Kurt fumed and stormed away. “I can’t watch this. I’m so damned pissed off, right now.”

  Mykal’s chest sank in defeat. The growing pain made sense. It could only end in death. It brought back memories of his grandfather’s terminal cancer. He would never get to see his wife and kids again. The thought of Pam grieving over his death hurt more than the fact he would pass away.

  *******

  Towbar eyed Mykal, and though his face held firm, no change in emotion, Towbar felt sucker punched. Kurt’s biting words pricked his heart. Not easily swayed by emotions, he felt bad for his handling of Mykal’s imminent loss. It had been such a long time since he truly cared for someone. He wasn’t equipped emotionally to respond to heart wrenching situations.

  Facts kept replaying in Towbar’s head. Mykal risked his life to save him when they were total strangers. Mykal did endanger himself to help Towbar’s people. Mykal fought his own leaders to unite his people to protect the Pass from the Sosos until the upcoming arrival of his army. Towbar knew he owed Mykal his life.

  ‘If the gods brought Mykal to me to rescue my people, then the gods must protect me when I lay down my life to save him.’

  Towbar smiled at Kurt’s bravery to boldly speak his mind. Towbar decided saving Mykal’s life was worth the risk. He must try to rescue him despite the danger he knew he would face.

  *******

  “Denny, I need you to do me a favor,” Mykal begged.

  “Sure, Myk. Anything.” Denny sat on the edge of the bed.

  “End it for me,” Mykal lamented quietly. “Kill me, Denny.”

  “I can’t,” Denny gasped and raised back. “I…I just can’t.”

  “Please, put me outta my friggin misery,” he pleaded.

  “No Myk, don’t say that.” Boris started to sob.

  “Maybe something will change,” Denny lied.

  “I must stop you,” Towbar cut in. “I have been consumed by the up-coming battle with the Sosos. Today I am reminded of my shortcomings. There is something I can do. However, if it fails, you will die. I may die as well. Kurt’s rebuke to me was well placed. After all you have done for me I neglected my share in our friendship. My friend, I owe you my very life.”

  “You might be able to save him?” Boris wiped his eyes.

  Silence filled the room. Towbar’s expression radiated joy. “The old adage from a sage long ago, rings true today, ‘It is always better to give and to share than to take and to hoard’. I may be able to repay the good that has been bestowed upon me.”

  “What can you do?” Larry asked. “Can we help?”

  “I must not waste time with talk. Mykal,” Towbar spoke loudly into Mykal’s face. “I must know if you have the will to live. Do you have the will to fight for your life?”

  Mykal held his head with both hands. He felt like he was spinning out of control. “I don’t understand.”

  “If you have the fortitude to live, I will fight to save your life. My life will be at great risk, so I must know if you truly have the determination to live. Far too many people are depending on me to risk my life if your heart
is not committed. My plan may kill us both.”

  “Myk! Focus! Think about Pam and the boys,” Denny directed. “How bad do you wanna see them?”

  “Myk, fight hard!” Larry instructed.

  “Don’t give up!” Boris added and wiped his eyes again.

  “That’s all I care about. Yes, I wanna live,” he blurted. Overwhelmed with emotions he fought breaking down. The others hooted and hollered. “I’d give up everything just to spend one more day with them,” he declared in a fierce whisper.

  “Do you have the resolve to defeat death?” Towbar demanded.

  “Yes!” He raised his whisper. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  “Can you do this, Towbar?” Boris asked.

  “I will try. I must act with great haste.” Towbar lifted Mykal from the bed producing a whimper. “I am sorry, my friend. This journey will be uncomfortable for you. Stay strong.”

  “Oh damn, it hurts,” Mykal mumbled as the bandage dropped off and black pus squirted from the wound. The pus hit Mykal’s bare chest, burning his skin. Black liquid drizzled from the swollen, open wound.

  “Let me cover this.” Larry grabbed a damp towel to wipe the leakage. “Oh shit! It burns. What is this?” Larry yelped while placing a clean cloth over the open wound.

  “The poison turned his blood bad. Do not touch the blood,” Towbar said and carried Mykal’s limp body to the bedroom door.

  “Where’re you going?” Boris asked. “Can we help?”

  “No!” Towbar barked taking them by surprise. He turned to face them. “We must be secluded. It is of great importance you keep others from following me. I do not say this lightly, if I have not returned in two days, we… will not be coming back. Tell Kurt, I thank him for his blunt reproof. He has enabled me to see what I did not wish to see about myself.”

  Mykal felt like a child in Towbar’s mighty arms. His limbs sagged lifelessly and his head fell back which permitted him to see his friends upside down. He couldn’t pull himself up.