37 Days In A Strange World

by Dave Hazel

  Mykal knew Franklin expected him to rescue him from the two savages. The sword swung down a second time, Franklin parried the attack leaving him vulnerable to the spearman. Mykal cried out as he desperately scrambled to reload. The kid’s life depended on how quickly he reloaded and shot them. The pressure made him fumble amateurishly as he reloaded.

  Franklin’s piercing scream startled Mykal. Through all the noise surrounding him, Franklin’s terror filled cry sounded like the only sound audible. The pointed spearhead thrust deep into Franklin’s soft belly and his guts twisted when the spearman rolled his weapon and yanked hard. Poor Franklin screamed madly and dropped his rifle to grab the agony in his mid-section to stop the brutal twisting actions. This poor kid stood against two experienced, brutal, killers.

  Mykal groaned while reloading. ‘It’s my fault Franklin has no ammunition’. With a new magazine inserted he slapped the bolt release button sending a round into the chamber, aimed and pulled the trigger, drilling burning lead into the spearman’s throat. The Soso spearman flew backward as if he had been hit by a speeding truck. He died before hitting the dirt. A fountain of red spurted upward from the gaping wound in his neck.

  Mykal desperately squeezed the trigger when the second Soso raised his sword. Click! Nothing! He tried the trigger again and nothing! “Nooooo! Damn it, nooo!” He cried out and hoped desperately Franklin’s injuries were minimal so he could move from the attack.

  Instinctively Mykal rolled the rifle to the side to see the bolt half way forward. The round didn’t feed properly from the magazine and didn’t set in the chamber. His rifle jammed. ‘Of all times why now?’

  Mykal furiously pulled the charging handle back to expel the odd round that caused his rifle to malfunction. He allowed the bolt to slam forward chambering another round. He raised his rifle in a panic for Franklin. His heart sank watching the taunting gleam of the sword’s blade slice diagonally into Franklin’s head and face. Broken hearted, he saw Franklin’s grotesquely warped gaze, an image that will be forever imprinted in his brain. Franklin fell lifeless to the ground, a seven foot spear protruding like a flag pole from his belly. The front of Franklin’s shirt soaked crimson.

  Almost as an afterthought he heard a sick thwack, as if the sword chopped a block of wood. Mykal’s trigger squeezed twice firing both rounds into the Soso’s head. It was too late. He killed the swordsman promptly, but not quick enough for the kid. Franklin had to be dead, despite the spasms of his legs.

  Now wasn’t the time for mourning. He would wrestle with guilt and self-blame later. For now there were Sosos to kill. The battle raged on. Mykal ran off leaving Franklin where he lay with a sword in his face and a spear sticking from his stomach.

  Running down the line trying to help others he felt arrows whizzing by. He turned to see Doninka stayed right behind him. He thought she had been struck with an arrow. The pretty girl, the pain-in-the-neck Princess, became a genuine concern. She was growing on him.

  “Kill the archers,” he yelled as loud as he could to anyone who could hear him. His words were lost in the roar of battle cries and gun fire. He stopped suddenly, turned to shoot a Soso climbing from the pit. He saw two arrows fly into the area where he would have run to. Two Sosos had targeted him and had led him perfectly if he wouldn’t have stopped.

  They were aiming for him. His momentary dread got swallowed up by hatred. “Stop the archers,” he yelled while turning to the two Sosos who were re-stringing their bows. Just as he killed one the other had been shot from another angle. He didn’t know who helped him but he was ever so grateful.

  Mykal watched a very large Soso tackle a smaller elderly townsman. The smaller man’s weapon had been knocked away when he hit the ground. The Soso sat atop the little man and raised a long ice pick like dagger. The trapped smaller man struggled desperately to get free. The big Soso, overcome with laughter, seemed amused by the little man’s whimpering. The Soso laughed so hard he couldn’t stab his prey pinned under his big frame.

  “Hey you,” Mykal yelled and kicked loose dirt in the amused bully’s face. The bully spat dirt from his mouth. When his eyes stopped blinking, he looked confused by the metal object pointed in his face. Mykal understood the confused expression and squeezed the trigger of his .357 magnum just inches from the wild looking bully. Blood splattered out the back of the Soso’s head. He slumped over dead on top of the little elderly man.

  Mykal pushed the dead weight off the little man with his foot and ran off before the little man could thank him. He and Doninka ran down the line helping any who needed it. The little man grabbed a weapon and returned to the fight.

  Mykal came to an area where his help wasn’t needed. Bodies piled up and Towbar dropped them as fast as they attempted to attack him. The mighty giant looked slick and wet in red. He appeared to be covered from head to foot in the blood of others.

  It looked as if a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle had been dumped around Towbar. The 1000 pieces consisted of body parts, internal organs, heads, limbs and a myriad of discarded weapons. The giant, a natural killing machine, dropped Sosos to the left, to the right and in front of him. One of Towbar’s sandaled feet was planted inside half of a Soso’s torso. The luckless Soso had been split in two with one swing of his glowing sword.

  Mykal guessed the Sosos saw this as an opportunity to get Towbar. They attacked him in groups and he easily killed two and three Sosos with every swing. They were foolish enough to blitz him, probably with the thought they would be the one to bring down the giant. They must have hoped he would slip, fall down or grow tired. With the sheer numbers they pressed him with, the Sosos must have been confident they could over power him once and for all, but their dead continued to mount.

  Pools of blood had formed all around Towbar. Every time he side-stepped because of bodies piling up, he stomped to keep his footing, splashing in red puddles like a child on a rainy day. He showed no signs of tiring.

  Mykal took the opportunity to reload. He saw Doninka thrust her “girlie sword” as he called it, into the throat of a Soso climbing out of the pit. The Soso twisted violently, grabbed his wound, and fell back into the pit. He would either bleed out or be trampled to death by his own people.

  Another tried to climb out and she stabbed him twice. She tried for his throat but he bobbed his head allowing her access to his left shoulder near his neck. The Soso managed to reach out and grab hold of Doninka’s ankle. She dropped to the ground and didn’t scream despite being pulled toward the pit. The Soso wanted to pull her into the death pit but she fought valiantly to break free from his grip.

  Mykal shot the Soso in the top of his head. The round drove straight down through his skull and came out his chin. The Soso let go and slumped into the pit never to harm another person. Mykal grabbed her hand and helped her to her feet. She impressed him with her courage and attitude. They continued running down the line again. He shot a few more Sosos in the head. His goal, shoot to kill only, went against his Security Police training.

  Mykal stopped a Soso about to use an axe on one of the townspeople. When the Soso fell, Mykal helped the older man to his feet. While he straightened up he saw a horrified expression in Doninka’s eyes. She yelled, but he already tried to turn and side step knowing a Soso’s attack to be imminent.

  Mykal took a hard blow to the back of his left shoulder. If he wouldn’t have side-stepped the heavy club would have crushed the back of his unprotected head. Since he removed his helmet earlier his head would have caved like a melon.

  The force of the blow knocked him to the ground face first. The pain stunned him and took his breath away. He knew he was in danger, assured a second attack would be coming. He rolled over and drew his .357 magnum and shot two rounds into the chest of the Soso. The massive club raised over the Soso’s head dropped harmlessly. The Soso didn’t get his second chance to kill him.

  Doninka knelt to his side checking his injury. She gently touched his shoulder looking into his eyes for any signs of pain. With his lef
t hand he grabbed her and jerked her down to pull her out of the way while firing two more rounds from the revolver. The first round ripped into the base of the axe wielder’s throat, severing his spinal column, allowing his head to wobble loosely. The second clicked empty.

  Like an old building the Soso imploded and crumbled. He landed on Mykal, who, with the help of Doninka pushed the lifeless form off him. “What about your paradise now, scumbag?” He said in anger as he grabbed the pain in his shoulder.

  “Gimme my rifle,” he said while he quickly reloaded the revolver before getting up. She handed him the rifle after he stuck the revolver back into the holster. “Stay close to me,” he yelled. After doing a couple of shoulder rolls, he felt confident no bones had been broken. He grabbed her and pulled close to her ear. “I told Towbar I’d keep you safe. You’re not gonna make a liar outta me,” he said with a wink and a smile.

  ********

  Despite the madness of the war raging around her, she felt her heart drawn to him. He saved her life and he demonstrated he cared for her. She knew this to be neither the time nor place to think such female thoughts, especially for a Princess, but her young heart fought harder than her mind. If this turned out to be the last day of her life, it would be with Mykal.

  ********

  “Stay close,” he repeated and swung her behind him and shot two more Sosos trying to climb from the pit. In a matter of moments there were more. He fired off seven more rounds. All seven shots were to the heads of seven Sosos.

  Suddenly an odd noise of crude horns filled the air. Mykal never heard the sound before. It blasted repeatedly all around them. Just as suddenly, as if on cue, all the Sosos stop what they were doing and turned to run away. Mykal couldn’t believe it. The Sosos had the advantage. If they’d pressed the attack the Pass was theirs.

  Mykal knew by the lack of rapid fire shooting the M-60s were out of ammunition. It had turned to hand-to-hand combat and the rifle fire of Mykal’s people keeping the Sosos back. The Sosos began to penetrate the line at many points and they could have easily inflicted many more casualties. But, thankfully, for whatever reason, the Sosos retreated. The defenders would get a much needed break.

  In the distance Mykal heard the faint sound of a car horn. A cheer of happiness erupted. Mykal understood why the Sosos broke away when they were so close to realizing their dream. To the south a cloud of dust filled the Pass and moved toward them. Mykal laughed out loud seeing Lopez’s vehicle leading the charge followed by thousands upon thousands of soldiers on horseback.

  Panic seemed to break out on the Soso side of the pit and all those inside the Pass turned to flee. Mykal’s body seemed to sag while he relaxed and stood in place. Suddenly he felt exhausted and his muscles ached. The rumble of the charging stallions grew as well as the dust cloud they created. He watched the cavalry split in half and ride toward the sides of the Pass so they wouldn’t have to jump the pit.

  Mykal smiled at Doninka. “Ya know, it’s kinda funny. All those thousands and thousands of Sosos,” he pointed toward those fleeing. “They wanted this Pass so bad, and to think that just the handful of us, in comparison, stopped them.” He pointed all around the pit. “We were so damned important in this battle. We held them off long enough for them,” he pointed back to the charging army Towbar had been waiting for.

  “This battle will be talked about for ages,” she agreed. “It is thanks to you and your people, Mykal, that we were able to defend the Pass and stop the Sosos. I am glad you are here.” She smiled. It seemed more than a friendly smile. She glowed and bubbled with happiness. “This brings joy to my heart.” She wrapped her arms around his arm while the thunderous galloping of mounts rolled past them enveloping them in a dust cloud.

  “The cavalry arrived just in the nick of time. What a relief this is over,” he said. He enjoyed the clouds of dust billowing slowly around them. Mykal watched people from his world swarm Lopez. He wanted to congratulate Lopez too, but didn’t have the desire to move.

  Despite all the dead, the blood, the gore, the pain and suffering, true happiness radiated from Mykal. He didn’t want to consider what the next hour may have brought if the army didn’t arrive. Most of these people would have been killed for sure.

  It suddenly hit him that he may never have to risk his life again. “They’re here! They’re really friggin here,” he shouted with joy as they kept riding past. With his rifle in hand he pumped his fist in the air and yelled his support as they rode by.

  The next step on his planned list; to meet Nidious, the person Towbar thinks may be able to find their way back to the real world. His happiness swelled and bubbled over as she held tight to his arm. “I’m so damned happy,” he shouted. Spontaneously he reached over and kissed her cheek. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so forward.”

  “I am not angry,” she said and batted her eyes.

  “I mean, you being a Princess and all.” He joked to cover the spur of the moment emotional outburst.

  “I am a woman more than I am a Princess,” she said and her lips puckered ever so slightly.

  ‘Damn it, what the hell am I doing?’ He turned to the army and had to pretend not to notice what he thought to be a ‘green light’. “Isn’t that beautiful?” He laughed wildly.

  He sensed Doninka’s shoulders sagged in disappointment, but she latched onto his arm again to enjoy the sight together. He wondered what Pam would think if Pam saw them stand so close together. He had never given Pam a reason to be jealous or to doubt his devotion. Sure Pam wouldn’t understand the emotions of the near death experiences they shared together, but the fact remained, there stood a beautiful woman on his arm who longed to have a relationship with him.

  In his mind he saw it play out comically, by explaining he had a duty to protect this Princess who just happened to be very attractive. He gently pulled away and allowed his body to drop to the ground to relax. He partially landed in something wet. He assumed it to be a puddle of blood but he didn’t care. The pain in his left shoulder increased.

  She sat down beside him but didn’t sit too close. “Thank you for saving my life.” A shy smile appeared. Doninka avoided his gaze when she spoke. “I owe you my life several times over. Mykal, I would like to show you my appreciation.” She stole a glance and batted her pretty eyes.

  “That’s not necessary,” he chuckled to play off what he thought she meant. He wondered what Pam would think if she heard Doninka’s offer. ‘Pam! Keep thinking about Pam!’

  “I want to show my gratitude for all you have done.” Her voice were soft and sincere, but her eyes held a mischievous cunning.

  “I appreciate that, but there’s no need.”

  Towbar ran to his side. “Mykal, my friend, are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine,” he replied. “I got hit from behind with a club but I’m fine.” He rubbed his bruised shoulder with his free hand. Mykal jumped to his feet. “I better go make sure my people are okay. I’ll see you in a little bit.” He walked off leaving Doninka with Towbar.

  He headed back to where he started. So many dead bodies lay all around, primarily in the pit and on the other side of the pit. Mykal felt numb to all the death and brutality. The one body that troubled him, the one lifeless form that nearly brought him to tears was that of Franklin Perry. He tried to avoid looking at Franklin. He felt solely responsible for the kid’s death. If he hadn’t taken Franklin’s ammo he might still be alive. ‘If only I’d given Franklin’s ammo back. Damn it.’

  “Hey Myk,” Kurt called as Mykal neared him.

  “Kurt,” Mykal sighed with relief. Kurt lay on the ground relaxing. “Boy Kurt, I’m glad to see yer ugly mug. You alright?”

  “Yeah, I’m alright. I used up all the ammo for the 60. I’ll tell ya what, Myk, its Miller time. If there ever was a real Miller time, this is it.”

  “I agree. C’mon, let’s go make sure everyone’s okay. Man, things got a little crazy back there,” Mykal said as Kurt held out his hand to be pulled up. “I thoug
ht for sure we were gonna be overrun. Thanks to Lopez it’s over.”

  “Lopez? What the hell did that gimp do?” Kurt scoffed.

  “He got the army to get here faster.”

  “Yeah, they mighta taken their time if they wouldn’t have known we were under attack,” Kurt agreed. “It’s a good thing the Sosos turned tail and ran. We coulda been screwed.”

  “I’m still surprised they gave up so quickly. They coulda killed us all. Hey, Franklin’s dead,” Mykal said. “Poor kid. I watched him get it and my rifle jammed. I couldn’t help him.”

  “Aw damn,” Kurt sighed sadly. “I’m really gonna miss that goofy pimply faced pain-in-the-ass.”

  “So did you have fun playing Rambo with the M-60?”

  “Oh yeah. It was great,” Kurt hooted. Franklin disappeared from their thoughts. “I was rockin’ an’ rollin’ just like John Rambo in First Blood. That First Blood movie was Hollywood BS but I was really killing people. You shoulda seen me.”

  “Oh no, what’s wrong with Boris?” Mykal interrupted Kurt. Boris sat on the hood of the same Peacekeeper where Mykal killed Jackson. Boris held his head in his hands. His body shook while he cried uncontrollably. Without prompting they both ran to him.

  “Boris, are you hit? What’s the matter?” Kurt asked first.

  “Are you hurt?” Mykal asked.

  Boris shook his head and didn’t try to hide his tears. In the past he’d never allow anyone to see him showing such weak emotions, but he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t hide it. “Look,” he sobbed and pointed to the ground near the edge of the pit not far from the Peacekeeper. “Look at the mess they made of him.”

  Mykal and Kurt walked around the front of the Peacekeeper to the edge of the pit together.

  “Oh no, please no,” Mykal moaned with shocking sadness. His hand over his mouth partly covered the horror expressed on his face. He felt as if he had been clubbed again, though this time it felt like it slammed into his chest. If grief could make the heart stop, this would do it.