37 Days In A Strange World

by Dave Hazel

  ‘I’m alive, I’m alive!’ Mykal yelled mentally. Spitting and choking, he fought vomiting. He wiped at his eyes vigorously, smearing blood over his face, rousing more pain in his arm pit. He spat the grisly taste from his mouth but couldn’t get the nauseating reek from his nose. Towbar pulled him to his feet.

  “Boris!” He panicked when he remembered he had been stopped trying to save Boris. He couldn’t see clearly. “Help Boris!” Mykal yelled while wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “He needs help,” he babbled angrily, but Towbar ignored him. “Oh, this hurts,” he doubled over when he felt the dagger protruding just under his clavicle, on an angle, down through his armpit. His right arm tingled with numbness and pain.

  “Be still, my friend,” Towbar said and straightened Mykal up to remove the dagger.

  “Gotta stop the--” Mykal gagged as if he had something on the back of his tongue. He sounded somewhat delirious. He pawed violently at his eyes and then yelped sharply when Towbar gave a quick jerk and pulled the dagger from his body. “Damn you Towbar, that friggin hurt,” he snapped his accusatory anger at the giant and paused after he gasped. “I’m sorry buddy. I didn’t mean that,” he said, while going in circles to walk off the pain. He held the bleeding hole in his armpit.

  “If you would not put yourself into these situations, then I would not have to inflict pain on you in order to help you,” Towbar said.

  “What about Boris? He was in trouble.” Mykal blinked wildly and looked but Boris wasn’t where he thought him to be. He then realized all the shooting had stopped.

  “Boris is fine, my friend. I saw Boris before I came to your aid. The battle is over. We defeated them, though we took many losses. I blame myself for my carelessness.”

  “Damn, I’m tired of getting hurt,” Mykal said and reached for the golf ball size bump on his head.

  “I owe you much, my friend. Doninka told me how you saved her life and protected her as I asked of you. I thank you.”

  “That was nothing. Let me tell you about a great feat of bravery I witnessed. Harvey Nordwall. Did you see the guy run out over to the Soso side of the pit a little bit ago?”

  “Yes I did.”

  “Towbar, do me one favor. Please don’t let people like Denny, Harvey Nordwall or any of the others who were important to this fight to ever be forgotten. Alright?”

  “They will always be remembered for the heroes they are,” Towbar said and placed his hand on Mykal’s shoulder. “I will ensure that towns are named after them. We will erect a monument to memorialize them. This pit will remain until the end of time. It will never be filled in. The memory of your people will stay until the end of time.”

  “I’m honored.” Mykal doubled over at a new sense of pain. He felt blood trickling down his side from the open wound in his armpit. “What should I do about this?” He pointed to the wound.

  “There is not much you can do. You may wish to clean it and cover it. I think it will be healed by sun rise tomorrow,” Towbar said and picked up the ice pick like dagger. Towbar wound up to throw it away, but Mykal stopped him.

  “Wait a minute. I want that. I wanna keep it as a souvenir from here. I want something to remind me of how many times I came close to death here. If I ever get back to my world this will be one hellova conversation starter. But let me ask you Towbar,” Mykal paused and looked around to make sure no one could hear them. “How is it that you and I can heal so fast when we’ve been hurt?”

  “I can not give you a good answer. I have always had this ability to heal quickly. Now my blood flows inside your veins.”

  “Oh no,” Mykal stopped him and gasped in horror. “Look, its Light and Flemour. They need help,” he said and they both ran over to them near the edge of the pit.

  Lt Light had a death arrow sticking into his hip and he lay on the ground dead. He died after being stabbed and hacked multiple times. Mykal deduced Light fell when hit by the death arrow, then was overwhelmed by Sosos who climbed from the pit.

  Flemour had been severely injured, but he tried to drag Light’s body away with one arm. Flemour stumbled over dead bodies and fell over. He rolled onto his belly and tried to pull Lt Light at a crawl. He appeared delirious and didn’t move.

  Mykal rolled Flemour over and was shocked by the sight of the man. It amazed Mykal Flemour was still alive. One of his hands attached at the wrist by only a piece of flesh, thus he tried to drag Light away with one hand. The dangling hand still clutched tightly to a dagger. Bone protruded from the wrist and blood slowed to a trickle. The inside of the open limb had been packed with dirt and grass. Mykal knew Flemour had been armed with only a six shot .38 caliber revolver. After firing all six rounds Flemour had been brutalized.

  When Mykal looked at Flemour he felt sorrow for the man. Flemour had been hit in the face with a sword or a sharp blade. A wide gap split his face. The wound started just under his nose and split down to the bottom of his chin. All his teeth near the gap had been broken out and the teeth that remained were just jagged stumps of enamel peeking out from the gums. He seemed to be suffering a great deal of pain. With every throb of agony his head jerked to the right. Blood and saliva drooled from his open mouth.

  Flemour looked at Mykal in wide-eyed shock but it didn’t seem he recognize Mykal. Flemour reached up with his nearly severed, dangling, hand and the sight of the ghastly wound evoked a response. Flemour tried to yell out, but only a gurgled moan came forth.

  “Help!” Mykal yelled. “Medic! Medic,” he yelled though they didn’t have any medical personnel. “Get help over here now. We have an injured man.” It was then Mykal noticed Flemour's right thigh had been ripped open. Some of the leg muscle had been grotesquely twisted outside of the flesh. The open wound had been covered with loose dirt when Flemour had fallen. “We need some friggin help now!” Mykal yelled again. “We got a man down,” he continued to yell to get assistance.

  Flemour’s injuries looked worse than any Mykal had seen for someone alive. Mykal didn’t think Flemour could survive. There weren’t medical personnel available who could treat him properly. The right side of Flemour’s head swelled to the size of a softball.

  Flemour tried to speak again making a garbled noise. Flemour moaned and licked his broken teeth revealing part of his tongue had been snipped off. Every few moments his entire body would stiffen and jerk with uncontrollable spasms while he whimpered and groaned. Mykal forcibly turned Flemour’s head to one side so he wouldn’t choke on his own blood. Mykal felt lost. It reminded him of when he was nine years old. His neighbor’s dog had been run over by a car in front of him. The dog cried and yelped. He felt total helplessness. Mykal felt like that nine year old boy panicking desperately in a sense of hopelessness.

  Pity overwhelmed him. “Don’t worry Sgt Flemour, help is on the way. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he lied. “Try to relax,” he said and gently patted Flemour’s shoulder. He was sickened, not so much by the gore, but sickened by the overwhelming sense of uselessness that he couldn’t do anything for the suffering man.

  Three people from Light's convoy ran to help. They were shocked and devastated to learn that their convoy commander, Lt Light, had been killed. They were just as shocked to see MSgt Flemour, more than likely had been wounded beyond repair.

  Mykal wouldn't give them any time to mourn over their leader's death. He made them carry Flemour back behind the dirt mounds where the wounded were being treated. The best the townspeople could do for Flemour would be to prolong his death for a short period of time.

  Mykal heard some movement from within the pit. He quickly ducked back and leveled his rifle to the edge of the pit, while Towbar raised his sword ready to lob off the head of a Soso should one try to climb out and attack.

  “Well, well, well,” Mykal sneered as he put himself at ease and tried to calm his racing heart. “Look what we have here,” he said to Towbar, but kept his rifle pointed in the pit. His worry abruptly turned to blistering wrath, staring into the frightened eyes of Lt Edwards. Mykal
immediately believed Edwards had been pretending to be dead during the battle, so he wouldn't have to fight the Sosos.

  “Is it over?” Edwards asked. “Are they gone?” He scanned the area above the pit for Sosos.

  “What happened?” Mykal challenged the ranking officer. “Let me guess. You were afraid to run to the rear so you jumped into the pit and played dead until it was over?”

  “No,” Edwards gasped. “I-I didn’t,” he said. His face looked like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Edwards wobbled, standing on dead bodies not solid ground. “It-um, it-it happened s-so fast,” he said slowly. “We were surveying the situation when out of nowhere Lt Light was struck with an arrow. I bent over to assist Light and um, my weapon slipped from my hands into the pit,” he said as if he was explaining his story on the fly. “I heard MSgt Flemour shooting his revolver. And um, I um, I went into the pit on top of these bodies to retrieve my weapon so that I, um, I could assist in, um, defending against the sudden assault. Um, uh, um, I-I, think one of the Sosos must have hit me in the head and rendered me unconscious. I say this because I just now regained consciousness. That’s all I remember,” he gasped. His face looked for sympathy. “I must have been out cold. Honest.” He squirmed under Mykal’s glare. “I don’t remember seeing Sosos advancing out of the pit.”

  Mykal and Towbar glanced at each other. They didn’t believe him. Mykal’s temptation increased greatly to apply a little more pressure to his trigger. ‘I could say it was an accident. More people are dead cuz of this damn coward.’ Mykal’s mind raced. The image of Flemour made him want to shout obscenities at Edwards. Too much time passed to shoot him and then say he thought Edwards was a Soso.

  Mykal lifted his rifle, glanced around to ensure no one could hear him. “You’re a friggin liar,” he hissed between clenched teeth. “I know you’re lying and you know you’re lying. You’re supposed to be our leader, but you’re a damn coward and people keep getting hurt or killed around you.”

  “But, but--” Edwards tried to protest. Mykal cut him off.

  “Shut your mouth! If you wouldn’t have been such a friggin wimp Flemour might be okay. He stood here trying to protect Light with a little six shooter while you buried your ass among the dead to hide. He’s gonna die, but if you woulda picked up your weapon you coulda helped him.” His tone and viciousness increased. “And I know it was you who tried to shoot me earlier. Next time I won’t--”

  “Whoa, hold on. What are you talking about? I, I, I don’t know what you’re referring to,” he replied, clearly lies flowed from his mouth. He kept glancing at Towbar and his massive sword.

  “Whatever! You’re lying piece of shit and a friggin loser. I blame you for the deaths of Finn and Miller. I blame you for the people who died when I got shot with a death arrow. You took off to save your ass leaving everyone to die. And now I blame you for Flemour cuz he can’t survive. I know you shot at me. You better sleep with one eye open, you friggin mutt.”

  “Sgt Graves, please believe me, I never tried to shoot you. I swear it. As God as my witness,” he raised his right hand. “But I know who did and I will tell you if you promise not to say that I told you. It was going in my report in preparation for our return to the real world.”

  “Who did it?” Mykal cut him off.

  “It was Sgt Mansfield. I told him not to. He wouldn’t listen to me. I give you my word,” he said, his hands trembled wildly while he looked away to avoid Mykal’s glare.

  “Okay.” Mykal nodded with a fake smile to give the impression of belief. “Thanks. I’m glad you told me, cuz I thought it was you.”

  “Would you please help me out of this pit?” Edwards extended his hand. He looked disgusted by all the dead bodies under and around him.

  Mykal wanted to spit on him. “You jumped in. You can climb out,” he said and turned away. Towbar followed him.

  “Please? Help me,” Edwards said like a grossed out school girl.

  “That friggin jerk just lied to me.”

  “I could see that, my friend.”

  Mykal felt relieved seeing Boris. “Hey Boris, you okay?”

  “Yeah. Damn, they sure surprised the hell outta us, didn’t they?”

  Mykal looked at his friend, rifle slung over his shoulder, two pistols in his waistband, covered in dirt and blood. He looked like a hardened warrior. A couple weeks ago people knew him as an overweight, bookworm, nerd. “I thought you were gonna get killed,” Mykal sighed. “I saw you struggling with your rifle and that Soso was going after you. I tried to shoot him but I got tackled by a different Soso and the creep stabbed me.”

  “Are you alright?” He looked over Mykal’s blood stained form to find the injury. “You look nasty,” Boris chuckled.

  “Yeah, he got me right here, with this,” he pointed to his wound and then pulled the ice pick like dagger from his belt. “It went in here and came out here.” He showed the hole in his armpit. “It hurts like hell. All this blood is Soso blood.” He sniffed. “Man, I stink.”

  “My damn rifle jammed on me,” Boris explained. “I hate M-16s. I wish we had AK-47s. But I took care of that stupid idiot,” he smiled and placed his hand on the handle of his .44 magnum. “One of these little monsters to the head will stop anyone. When he hit the ground his whole damn head split open like a busted eggshell.”

  Mykal snapped his fingers as if he just remembered something. “I need you to run over to Mansfield and don’t let him outta your sight for anything. And don’t leave him alone with Edwards at all. I’ll explain later. Even if Edwards threatens you with paperwork don’t leave Mansfield’s side. This is important for us. I’ll be there soon.”

  “Sure. No problem. I dare Edwards to make me leave.” Boris smiled and ran as fast as he could.

  “Why do you want Boris at Mansfield’s side?” Towbar asked.

  “Because Edwards knows that I know it was him that tried to kill me. Now he’s afraid so he’s gonna warn Mansfield what’s just happened and I think he’ll try to get Mansfield to plot against me, but we’re gonna take Mansfield to where you took me when you saved my life. We both know he’s gonna die cuz of the death arrow poison, but I want him to think you’re gonna save his life like you saved me. That will be the end of one of my two major problems.”

  “Very clever, my friend. Tell me when, and I will strike down Edwards,” the giant offered. “He has been a curse to your people.”

  “I appreciate that. All in good time. I have to be careful how it looks. I don’t want it to come back on me when I’m at home. Edwards will get what’s coming to him.” Mykal gave a wry smile.

  4.

  Most of those not injured helped relocate the wounded behind the dirt walls should another attack occur. They wanted the injured away from the pit. A makeshift aid station had been erected. The extent of medical procedures included cleansing, stitching and bandaging of wounds. Treating pain consisted of strong intoxicating drink.

  Mykal didn’t help move bodies. He busied himself scavenging for ammunition. He took ammo from discarded weapons and the dead. Despite the fact that Towbar’s soldiers arrived they were still greatly outnumbered. He wanted as much ammo as he could get but believed the threat of Sosos would increase tensions to the point that people from his world might resort to stealing ammo from each other.

  Mykal and Towbar came across Kurt who sat back against one of their man-made dirt knolls. Kurt was eating and drinking a meal his new girlfriend brought to him. “Hey, what’s up boss man,” Kurt said with a mouth full of food. “Want some? It’s some great stuff.”

  “No, but do you know how many of our people got killed or hurt?” Mykal asked. “We’re so spread out I’m not sure where everyone’s at.”

  “The only ones I heard of is one of the religious freaks, Short Shit Palmer. Ski turned him into a Jesus freak and now he’s dead,” Kurt scoffed. “Someone said that the new kid on Dum Shit Dobson’s squad got killed, Tackett. Airman Jeff Tackett. Other than that I’m not really sur
e,” he said while chomping on his food. Specs of food flew while he talked.

  “Hey, you pig,” Mykal looked to make sure no food particles landed on him. “Eat with your damn mouth shut. Didn’t your parents ever teach you manners?” He realized he must have looked silly being concerned about food particles while his body was covered in dirt and other people’s blood.

  “Yeah, they taught me manners,” Kurt laughed. “But hell with manners and hell with you if you don’t like the way I’m eating. I’m starving and after what we just went through I’ll eat any damn way I please. Besides, you look like crap.”

  “I’ll be back in a little bit. Don’t go anyplace cuz I want you to come with me and Towbar. I’ll explain later.”

  “Like where am I gonna go?” He chuckled. “Oh, I just remembered, one of the civilians got killed too. That married lady, Lillian Nordwall. She took a death arrow right between the tits.” He smirked without compassion. “From what I heard she was standing behind a vehicle and a death arrow dropped in her cleavage and killed her.”

  “Ahhh, that’s why Harvey did it,” Mykal turned to Towbar.

  “What’d who do?” Kurt asked.

  “Her husband Harvey went on the other side of the pit and went berserk on the Sosos. He was taking them out left and right until he ran out of ammo. He ended up getting killed. He musta thought he couldn’t live without her.”

  Kurt shrugged. “Oh well.” He continued eating.

  Mykal realized that they were losing all sensitivity to human life. Towbar’s world, or rather the war in Towbar’s world had a profound impact on changing them into hard-hearted calloused shells of their former selves. Mykal wondered how he would be with his family back home. Would he be changed like Vietnam vets who returned home different? Would he end up losing his love for his wife and kids and lose everything he owns because of this senseless war he’s trapped in?