by Dave Hazel
“What do you think could be in there?” Sam asked.
“I am not sure, but we must be ready for the unexpected. We are dealing with those clever enough to hide this entrance. They may be clever enough to post guards inside.”
“Do you think they’ll be hostile?” Boris asked and adjusted his .44 magnum and .22 caliber revolvers for quick retrieval.
“I know not. This entrance has been here for a very long time. Had it been Sosos they would have used this exit and attacked from behind. Whoever they are, I am puzzled as to how and why they have remained hidden. The many queries to be resolved are mounting.”
“Do your people have to pay taxes?” Sam asked.
Everything stopped and silence filled the air as all heads turned to Sam.
Boris laughed out loud. “Sam hates the government and he hates paying taxes to the government.”
“But c’mon Sam, that’s a hellova long way to go to avoid paying taxes,” Mykal chuckled.
“This mission is of great importance, because of all the unknowns,” Towbar said. “Be watchful and be alert.”
“Well, let’s get this show on the road,” Mykal said. Part of his mind imagined the worst of all his nightmares jumping out at them once Towbar opened the secret passage.
Towbar opened the secret door, and they were all assailed with a cool breeze. The smell came across as musty and stale. Inside the temperature was considerably cooler. The soldiers stood at the ready with weapons drawn. Doninka armed herself with a short sword and she held it ready in her dainty hand. Mykal eyed Doninka. She stood out like a pretty new blouse in a basket full of dirty old sweat shirts. He admired her tenacity.
Mykal, Boris and Sam chambered a round in their rifles. Mykal felt for the handle of his .357 magnum to make sure it rested where he wanted it for quick draw.
“This is splendid work indeed,” Towbar commented. A large portion of the rock wall opened like a door. “It opens easily. A child could open this door. They hid it extremely well.”
They all tried to peek in at once. Towbar explained they would all get their chance to see inside. A stone hallway lay before them about eight feet wide and just under seven feet tall. Mykal thought the height had to be depressing for Towbar since he would have to crouch. They could not determine the length of the corridor but saw at the end it turned to the right. A faint flicker of flame lit the end revealed the turn.
“Damn, something intelligent definitely lives here,” Mykal whispered. “You guys be careful,” he said to Boris and Sam.
“I will take the lead,” Towbar whispered. “Mykal, walk beside me with your thunder stick ready.”
“I’ll walk with you Towbar,” Boris volunteered himself to walk beside the giant. “I’d rather be up front.”
“Me and Sam will be right behind you guys,” Mykal said. “If we run into trouble Towbar, make sure you get outta the way so I can start shooting.”
“I hope we don’t get into a shoot-out down here,” Boris whispered back to Mykal and Sam. “We’ll all end up with busted, bleeding eardrums. We’ll go deaf,” he clarified for the others.
Doninka walked behind Mykal. She wanted to remain as close to Towbar as possible.
A soldier walked beside Doninka whose facial appearance was unnerving in this setting. Like the other warriors he was a very large muscular man but his face had been disfigured in a hand to hand battle with a Soso a few years ago. A scar started at his right temple, down under his right eye and over his cheek diagonally, down under his nose through his lips and down the left side of his chin into his neck. The second scar started at the top of his forehead on the left, over his eyebrow through his nose and down the right cheek and curled around the jawline. The third zigzagged down the right side of his face.
The Soso used a razor sharp dagger and planned to remove his face. He survived the brutal attack by stabbing the Soso in both eyes and disemboweling him when the Soso dropped his weapon to reach for his eyes. The wound healed poorly due to lack of immediate medical attention. His lips permanently pursed into a sneer exposing his teeth. The right side of his face always looked pulled to the side due to inadequate assistance during the healing process, leaving a horrendous scar.
The scarred soldier had a long and difficult name to pronounce. “We’ll just call ya Al. Al Capone,” Mykal said after four attempts at the man’s name. Mykal smiled inwardly. Only he, Boris and Sam knew Al Capone was short for Alphonse ‘Scarface’ Capone, infamous gangster of the 1920s.
The soldier liked his new name Al Capone. He tried to smile but his scars made it look like a scowl, exposing his teeth.
“There is a step. Be careful,” Towbar whispered at the halfway point in the corridor.
Mykal passed the warning and they whispered the message back. Just as Towbar neared the end of the corridor, the silence had been broken by a loud clanking thud as if someone in the back missed the step and fell forward. The clumsy soldier fell forward onto Doninka who jumped with fright and a muffled cry.
“Damn it!” Mykal yapped in a forced whisper when Doninka’s blade stabbed him in the side when she jumped. She nicked his flesh with the tip of her sharp short sword. It frightened him more than it hurt. “Will you put that damned thing away?” He scolded her in angry whispers.
“I am so sorry, Mykal. I did not mean to harm you,” she said and apologized again.
“We must be quiet!” Towbar whispered harshly.
“I almost got killed here,” he exaggerated and pulled up his shirt to look at the wound. It was too dark to see but he felt a slight stickiness. “I’m bleedin’. I’m really friggin bleeding,” he complained with harsh whispers. “That wasn’t a rusty blade, was it?” He whispered to Doninka.
“I meant you no harm. It was an accident,” she whispered.
“We must have silence,” Towbar said as he turned and brought their party to a halt. “If there are guards posted in this area, they will have heard our noise,” he whispered.
“Well for crying out loud Towbar,” Mykal whispered angrily. “We got Joe Clumsy back there who can’t make it down one step, Doninka stabbed me in the side when she jumped, and we got Al Capone here who looks like he belongs here. We haven’t even run into the enemy yet. I can hardly wait to see what else happens.”
Boris and Sam were fighting to contain their laughter. The mission seemed to be turning into a slapstick comedy.
“I meant you no harm, Mykal. I promise you.”
“I know, I know,” he whispered back. “It scared the hell outta me. Where I come from we call that taking friendly fire.”
“When we continue, we must be extremely quiet,” Towbar advised in hushed tones. “We should not bunch up.”
They rounded the corner cautiously and saw the passage extended fifteen to twenty feet before it opened into a small room where the flickering light emanated from. When they entered the small room they were surprised to see a small wooden table with three small wooden stools around it. The table and stools were small enough for grade-school children.
There were two wooden mugs on the rectangle table. Other than an oil type lantern hanging on the wall giving off the light, the room lay bare. The room looked about twenty square feet. The floor, walls and ceiling were smooth, showing quality work done to this room despite the simple appearance.
“This has been here a very long time,” Towbar sighed. “I am utterly amazed we know nothing of these people.”
The simple room gave them three choices. They were faced with three exits, one in each of the three walls.
“This is un-freakin’-real,” Mykal whispered. Slowly he stepped around the room. He moved to the left side and peeked into the darkened hallway before him. He needed to make sure they were not going to be surprised by something or someone hiding in the dark. “This reminds me of a Dungeons And Dragons game,” he said. He knew Boris and Sam understood the reference.
“Dragons?” Doninka asked with fearful curiosity. She stepped near to see what he discove
red.
The rest of the party filled the room cautiously inspecting the other corridors. Towbar, with Sam and Boris beside him went to the exit straight in front of them. That hallway seemed dimly lit farther ahead. Some of Towbar’s soldiers examined the exit on the right. They all moved slowly and quietly around the room.
“This is strange,” Towbar spoke softly. “I can not fathom how this has never been made known to our people. This area here looks like it could be a guard post. There are no guards, which means they may have heard us when--”
“The ceiling!” Mykal shouted his desperate warning, while reflexively grabbing Doninka’s arm to pull her with him into the darkened hallway. Listening to Towbar he felt dust and dirt fall into his hair. Abruptly without looking up he knew something not to be right. The presage of an eruption overwhelmed him. Mykal was glad he didn’t second guess his gut feelings.
Just as he shouted and yanked Doninka into the hallway with him he heard and felt the ceiling crash in on the room. When he dove to the cold rock floor the rumbling of the cave-in seemed to shake the entire mountain. He didn’t get stepped on but he felt someone trample over him and Doninka. He knew it was one of Towbar’s soldiers who had just escaped the collapse. He remained motionless in the pitch black darkness waiting for the dust to settle. He pulled his shirt up to his face to filter the tiny pollutants of dust and dirt swirling around them.
Doninka and the other man’s cough stopped when they heard a yell vent behind them. The cry of intense pain echoed through the darkened corridor. The terrifying howl seemed to bounce off the cold damp walls. The yell died to a teeth grinding moan.
“My leg,” the man cried out. “My leg. Ahhhhh, my leg.”
Mykal tried to make sense of what happened. ‘How bad was the collapse? Whatta we gonna do? How are we gonna be able to help the injured man? Where do we go?’
His mind raced with questions. “Damn! Where’s my rifle?” He snapped and felt the floor. “My rifle! Where the hell is my rifle?” He slapped the hard floor desperately. Mykal needed to find it because he feared the need for both his weapons in this place.
“Klacken? Is that you Klacken?” A husky male voice called out to the moaning man. The voice belonged to the man who ran over top of Mykal and Doninka.
“It is I,” Klacken replied pitifully. “My leg is hurt.”
“Who else is in here?” Mykal called to the husky voice. “Oh thank you God in heaven,” Mykal sighed with relief when his hand blindly hit the butt of his M-16 rifle.
The husky voice replied his name.
“Who are you?” Mykal asked when he couldn’t understand the words the man spoke. He felt around for Doninka.
“I am the one you call Ail-Key-Po-an,” he replied.
“Al Capone.” Mykal smiled but didn’t want to see Al’s scarred face in the dark. He touched Doninka’s curled up body. He reasoned she tried to hide her sobbing. “Klacken, what’s wrong?”
“My leg, it is buried,” he moaned and slapped his hand on the floor in anger. “I should have been faster. I think my leg is broken. Please help me. The pain is unbearable,” he groaned.
“Doninka, are you okay?” Mykal asked.
“I am fine,” she answered softly. “I am only frightened.”
“You’re not alone,” he admitted and felt his way back to Klacken. Rubble and debris covered the floor. “Doninka, I didn’t mean to pull you so hard, but I’m glad I did.”
“As well am I,” she sniffled.
“I need the two of you to help me with Klacken,” Mykal said when he felt Klacken. “I want you to try and relax,” Mykal said while he felt the back of the man’s body. Klacken laid face down on the ground. Mykal worked his hand down the injured man’s back, and down the man’s thigh to determine how much debris buried the man.
Mykal’s eyes widened in blind horror. His hand became wet with warm sticky blood when he placed his hand on the stump of Klacken’s severed leg. Mykal quickly withdrew his hand. Klacken’s leg had been severed just below the knee. Mykal felt Klacken’s blood pump out quickly. A thick sticky puddle formed under the stump of a leg. The fallen rock not only severed Klacken’s leg, but also isolated them from the rest of their party.
Mykal felt the entrance to the room completely closed off and faced a critical situation; a man lay before him bleeding to death with a severed leg. The rest of the world gone! He wanted to give way to panic. He wanted to yell because it felt like the walls were closing in on him. He knew the darkness brought the sudden claustrophobic fear. Mykal knew he had to keep his head about him because Klacken’s life hung in the balance. He didn’t want Klacken to die because he panicked.
Mykal rushed to where he thought Al Capone stood. He tripped over Doninka’s legs and hit the cold cement hard. “Damn it, you’re gonna kill me yet,” he mumbled and ignored the pain in his elbow. “Al, where are you?” He jumped to his feet.
“I am here,” Al Capone answered while Klacken continued to moan out his pain.
“Come here,” he whispered as he groped in the darkness to find him. Once he felt Al’s arm he pulled him close to whisper in his ear. “Al listen, we gotta keep this quiet. Klacken is hurt bad. His leg is cut off just below the knee.”
“Oh no, that is ill news indeed. He will most certainly die. There is nothing we can do for him here,” Al said casually. “We will never dig our way through the rock to find help in time to save his life.”
“I think there’s a chance,” Mykal said. “We’ll just have to find another way out.”
“We must leave him behind. He will be a burden to us,” Al said showing no emotion toward his fellow soldier and friend.
“We’re not gonna leave him. Just gimme a hand with him. We’ll put a tourniquet on his leg.”
“He will not survive if his leg is cut off.”
“What if it was you, Al?” Mykal whispered angrily. “Would you wanna be left behind to bleed to death?”
“I hurt,” Klacken called out. “Help me. I am trapped. I do not wish to die the death of a fool.”
Mykal rushed back to Klacken and this time avoided tripping and falling. He felt the open leg still pumped out precious blood into a large puddle on the floor. “One of you, gimme a belt or a piece of rope?”
“I have one,” Doninka responded. She got off the cold floor and pulled herself together.
“Hurry, gimme it quickly.”
“What is this thing you call tuno-kit?” Al Capone asked as he joined Mykal.
“It’s a tourniquet,” he said. “It will stop the bleeding by cutting off the flow of blood.”
“Bleeding? Am I bleeding?” Klacken called out.
“You’re bleeding just a little,” Mykal lied. Doninka handed him a belt and he quickly looped it around the leg just above the knee. “I need a stick or a knife or something.”
“Here is my dagger,” Al offered.
Mykal inserted the dagger and twisted the belt to tighten around the leg until he stopped the flow of blood. “Doninka, come here,” he called for her assistance as he bent the stump upward to help slow the flow of blood as much as possible. “I want you to hold his leg like this,” he said and forced her hand where he wanted it placed.
“Oh my, his leg--”
Mykal stopped her by grabbing her mouth with his bloody hand. Though he couldn’t see it, he smeared the man’s blood all around her mouth.
“Shhhh, don’t say it,” he whispered quietly into her ear. “He doesn’t know and he doesn’t need to know right now. Just hold it like this and we’ll see if it’s possible to clear away all this rock. If not, we’re gonna have to find another way outta here.”
Al Capone tried to move away some of the bolder like rocks, but made little progress. Mykal tried to help the muscular man and his thoughts turned to his close friends Boris, Sam and Towbar. He feared the worst and Mykal was grateful he didn’t ask any other friends to come along. The thought of them being crushed to death brought heart wrenching sadness.
; “This will never do,” Al grumbled dejectedly, throwing a rock down the dark corridor. “It will take us days to move through this. Longer with no food or drink.”
“He’s not gonna last days,” Mykal sighed. Klacken’s situation gave Mykal something to take his mind from his friend’s fate in the cave-in. He looked toward the blackness of the corridor before them. Mykal couldn’t imagine what they might possibly encounter travelling blindly through this foreign complex.
Suddenly Mykal sensed something strange with his eyes. He felt a tingling behind his eyes, not on the surface. He couldn’t stop blinking, not because of floating dust and dirt, rather something inside his eyes created an itch. Instantly he could see clearly as if dim lights had been turned on. He turned to actually see Klacken, Doninka and Al. He knew it to be much more than just his eyes adapting to the dark. Another gifting passed on from Towbar’s lifesaving blood transfusion.
“At least one did not make it to safety,” Al said.
Mykal saw Al feeling around the rubble and clearly saw the hand Al patted. The hand was too small to be Towbar’s and it seemed too rough to be either Boris or Sam. The man tried to escape the implosion but had been buried under tons of rock. “I can see it,” he said, mystified at his ability.
“You can see it? How can you see it?” Al asked. “I see nothing at all. Am I blind?”
“I, too, can not see anything at all,” Doninka said.
“Wait a minute,” Mykal said and nearly broke into laughter. He wanted to slap himself in the head. “Do you guys wanna see something really helpful in situations like this?” He reached for his military issue flashlight attached to his web belt.
“I would welcome anything that would help,” Al answered.
“Watch this. Come on Duracells, don’t fail me now,” he chuckled and switched on the plastic light. Surprisingly it worked. The beam shone brightly down the dark hallway and lit up their area, illuminating dust particles still in the air.
“Ah, I am not blind,” Al exhaled relief. “What is this?” Al gasped and jumped back against the cold hard wall. “Magic!?”
“No, it’s not magic. It’s called a flashlight.” He smiled at the grown man’s fear. “Back in my world everyone carries these for times like this, when it’s dark.”
