by Steven Bird
He could tell from the rhythm of sustained fire, and by the crack and note of each round’s report, that it was certainly a ’74. “That’s not Jessie,” he mumbled to himself as he struggled to roll to his side, so he could keep an eye on the direction of the rifle reports. “His .30-30 is distinctive.”
He soon began to hear other intermittent shots, not at all similar to the sound of an AK-74. Who the hell is that? he thought, and the realization set in that it might very well be the ones from the cave. “Maybe it’s them,” he mumbled, wondering aloud.
Thinking to himself, trying to make sense of the situation, he pondered, if they inserted a hunter group nearby to look for Jessie and me, they might be getting more than they bargained for. Those furry bastards don’t seem to take to strangers very well.
Feeling conflicted, Nate wasn’t sure exactly who he preferred to win this particular altercation. If those damn foreign occupiers with the UF take out the… whoever the hell they are, where does that leave me? They’ll eventually find me. I guess that’s better than dying out here from a fever or dying at the hands of those beasts. At least I’d stand a chance of receiving first aid as a prisoner. What the hell am I thinking? Kill those bastards!
~~~~
Picking their way along a mountain ridge, Jessie drew back on Hank’s reins, saying in a soft, gentle voice, “Whoa, boy.” Patting the horse on the neck, Jessie looked through a gap in the trees he’d seen from a distance as a good vantage point.
Seeing a few houses in the valley below, Jessie noted no smoke coming from their chimneys, nor did he see any other immediate signs of habitation.
“Ah, hell. It’s probably no use, boy. Even if they’re empty, everything has been picked clean by now. Pickin’s are gettin’ slim for a vagabond and a drifter these days.”
Hearing a rotor beat, Jessie looked back as Hank began to shift his feet with anxiety. To Jessie’s horror, a Mi-24 Hind was flying up the valley between the two ridges. The helicopter flew right by him at nearly eye level. His heart sank when he realized he and Hank were in a visually exposed position.
Kicking Hank into action, Jessie ran his horse into the cover of the trees and had to make a quick decision as to which side of the ridge they would descend, in an attempt to become lost in the thick forest below.
Although the helicopter had passed him to his right, which was south, he knew that Highway 411 lay to the north. If he opted to descend from the ridge to the north, he’d end up on the UF’s main route of travel. Additionally, he’d end up faced with either passing directly through the town of Newport or ascending the very same ridge to pass back to the south to get safely around Newport and in a position to continue toward Highway 25 and eventually, Del Rio.
“C’mon, boy,” he said, urging Hank to his right to descend the mountain to the south. “Hopefully, we can get lost in the thick of it.”
While they worked their way through the thick Appalachian forest, Jessie could hear the large, twin turbine powered helicopter off in the distance. Concerned as to why they had yet to leave the area, Jessie brushed his feelings aside and pressed on. The clock was ticking for both Nate and Britney, and he knew it. Caution had to take a backseat to timeliness for the next few days of his journey.
Reaching the floor of the valley between the two mountain ridges, Jessie oriented himself, and pondered, “I believe that’s Carson Springs, there. I remember it from before the madness in the mountains south of 411 began. Nate and I discussed our possible routes east. I believe if we can skirt around Carson Springs, we’ll cross Highway 32, Interstate 40, and then Highway 73. All three of those run north and south, giving us a clear shot to Highway 25 and Del Rio once we’re beyond them.”
Patting Hank on the neck, Jessie chuckled, saying, “Just talking to you about our plans makes me feel better, even if all you hear is a series of grunts and moans. C’mon, now. Let’s get moving,” he said as he urged Hank forward.
Arriving at an area that had been extensively logged in previous years before the collapse, on the western side of the valley, Jessie scanned the skies above for threats and then began quickly working Hank through the young trees that were beginning to take hold again in the once thick forest. Feeling visually exposed, he kept Hank’s head up and moving, not wanting to let his tired companion slow, potentially allowing them to be spotted.
“C’mon, boy. Being a little tired is better than catching a bullet.”
Hearing the helicopter circle back around from the north, Jessie grumbled, “Now what is that bastard doing?”
Reaching a cluster of unharvested trees alongside the dirt logging road left behind by the logging company, Jessie took visual cover in the trees while he watched with horror as the helicopter looked as if it were descending into Carson Springs on the other side of the next ridge.
“Damn it to hell,” Jessie grumbled. “C’mon boy. Nate can’t afford for us to wait them out. We’ve gotta get moving and stay moving.”
Knowing that once they got underway, he couldn’t guarantee the next time he would have the luxury of stopping to water his horse, Jessie dismounted and led Hank over to a small trickling stream that followed the logging road in the bottom of the valley.
Once he and his horse had their fill, Jessie wiped his mouth with his sleeve and walked over to Hank, saying, “We can do this, boy. I know we can,” as he put his foot in the stirrup and boosted himself up and over, settling into the saddle for what he knew was an uncertain ride.
Nudging Hank forward, Jessie worked him toward the southern side of Carson Springs. He knew if he had to turn and run, he’d be ultimately blocked by Newport to the north, where the helicopter’s allies likely had freedom of movement. To the south, other than a few roads that took people through the area, there wouldn’t be anywhere near as many assets for the UF to utilize in his pursuit.
Chapter Twelve
The silence of the hellish cave was broken only by drips of water tracing their way down the cave’s ceiling formations, finally breaking free and falling to the floor. Not another sound could be heard. Not even a whimper from Greg beside her.
Britney’s mind seemed to wander aimlessly and her concept of time now seemed like a distant memory. With no sunrise, no sunset, and no sounds from the outside world at all, she found the silence of it all disorienting and maddening.
They should have found me by now… if they were coming, that is, she thought as her mind sifted through all the possible scenarios. Even though she had just recently met both Nate and Jessie, and even though their time together was tense and fast-paced, to say the least, she felt as if there was anyone on Earth she could trust to be there for her—to come for her—it was those two men.
As doubt from the hopelessness of her situation began to create conflict in her heart, she thought, I guess I was just fooling myself. They didn’t even know me. Heck, they didn’t even know each other. It was just a matter of chance that we were together, nothing more.
Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the ominous echoes of a horn reverberating through the cave.
Hearing Greg begin to cry, she whispered, “Be strong. They may be coming for me. You don’t know for sure they’re coming for you. It may mean something else.”
“No…” he sobbed. “It’s time. It’s the only rhythm they have. They always go in order. They’ve never deviated from that. It’s time,” he cried as panic and fear began to set in.
“Please, no!” he cried out in the darkness. “Not yet! I’m not ready! Please, no! Please, no! No! No! No!”
Hearing movement in the darkness, Britney listened as Greg’s chains began to jingle from his uncontrollable shakes. Heavy footsteps could be heard drawing near, making Greg sob uncontrollably from fear, allowing his bowels to evacuate their contents as he began to lose control.
The hair on the back of Britney’s neck stood on end as she sensed someone, or something, very close to her. She couldn’t see at all in the total darkness, but she knew as certain as anything i
f she reached out her hand, she would touch one of them in the darkness.
Trying to maintain her composure the best she could, Britney painted a mental image from the sounds around her. She could almost see in her mind how Greg was being taken hold of while he flailed around in sheer panic. Hearing the chains drop to the floor and feet begin to shuffle, she could tell they were carrying him away, and his cries soon faded to echoes in the distance.
How many were there? she thought. Two, maybe three? They didn’t say a word. They didn’t make a sound other than the sounds of their feet shuffling on the floor. Why? Why don’t they talk? Why don’t they seem to communicate at all, yet seem to work in perfect unison?
Feeling fingers run through her hair in the darkness, Britney flinched and pulled away as chills ran up her spine. Her heart began to race as she realized she wasn’t alone. They hadn’t all left with Greg like she’d thought.
Curling up into a fetal position, Britney held her eyes shut tightly as she just wanted the moment to pass. Unable to help herself, she stuttered, “Who… who’s there?”
Hearing a figure shift around in the darkness, Britney knew she hadn’t imagined it. She wasn’t alone. But was she ever? Was there always someone, or something sitting there in the darkness, watching and listening? Waiting? Britney’s mental hell intensified tenfold with that revelation, and with the new unknowns it brought with it.
And now, she was the only one to remain. Greg, based on the accounts he’d given her, would not be returning, and she knew it. The unknown horrors he was about to experience would soon befall her. Try as she might, she attempted to block his screams from her mind to no avail.
~~~~
Being carried through the network of caves by several of their captors, Greg’s will to survive intensified with each step they took. Every step was one step closer to his fate, and that was something he was not as ready and willing to accept as he had tried to convince himself.
With his hands and feet still bound, there wasn’t much he could do, and add to that his captor’s physical strength was far greater than his, especially given his weakened, malnourished state. He wondered what he could do to fight back, hoping an opportunity would present itself.
He flashed back to Britney’s previous comments about this very moment, “You can surrender your life to them if you want, but I’m going to make them earn whatever it is they plan to do. I’d rather die a painful death knowing I made them earn it than to simply have my life end in submission and tears. Submission is why I’m here. It’s why my family died. We submitted to those who wielded power over us. Never. Never again. If I never see the sunlight outside of this hell again, at least I’ll die knowing I didn’t just give up.”
Seeing a glow of light from a chamber up ahead, Greg squinted because it was the first image or light of any kind his eyes had seen since his abduction. He could now see the ominous outline of his captors, two of whom carried him, and two who stood just ahead at the entrance to the chamber that emanated with light.
The only details he could make out were that the two large individuals who were carrying him were covered in fur. As they neared the entrance to the chamber, they both used one of their arms to remove something from their heads.
The two who stood by the entrance of the chamber stepped aside, allowing Greg and those who had retrieved him to enter the room. Once inside, the light was much brighter, giving him his first detailed image inside the cave system.
If not for the situation, he would have found the space to be beautiful and awe-inspiring. An oval fire of red-hot embers glowed in the center of the room, which was oblong shaped and appeared to have been carved by water and time over the millennia. Amazing mineral formations adorned the room. Reflections of the red-hot embers flickered off the walls and formations of the chamber, making it appear to sparkle with a brilliant radiance. It reminded him of a cathedral or something he would have seen in a fantasy movie.
His wonder soon reverted to horror and fear as the two who had carried him lowered him to the floor, and all four of the captors moved close and stood around him. Seeing two more figures join them, he realized that six now stood there, staring down at him.
“Who… who are you?” he stammered. “What do you want?”
Hearing no answer, he noticed one of the figures, who appeared in the faint, flickering light to have the curled horns of a goat or ram coming out of his head, give a signal. A seventh figure Greg had not previously seen appeared from the shadows, and his captors began to release his leg restraints. Attempting to kick, his struggles were quickly overpowered by the figures holding onto his ankles tightly.
Two of them stepped aside to reveal the horrifying sight of the seventh individual, who Greg could now see was carrying a large, two-sided axe.
“Nooooo!” he screamed as he was stripped of his pants and soiled underwear. The two figures holding his ankles spread his legs open, holding him tightly while the seventh figure raised the axe high above his head.
As Greg gazed up at the axe, he saw a glow of light off to his left. Turning his head, he could see that one of the figures carried some sort of metal, scissor-like objects that functioned as grasping mechanisms in each hand. At the end of each device was a glowing, red-hot coal.
While one of the figures held on to his forehead tightly, bearing down on him with great force, the other placed the hot coals onto Greg’s eyes, blinding him instantly as the fluid in his eyes flashed to a boil. The intensity of his screams nearly damaged his vocal cords.
The pain was unbearable; at that moment, all of his fight was gone. Greg simply wished to die. He simply wanted to be released from this hell.
With a nod from the one adorned with ram’s horns, the seventh figured swung the axe down hard onto Greg’s right leg, nearly severing it just below the hip.
Screaming in agony and covered with a splatter of his own blood, Greg felt a level of pain and sensation he had never before felt as nerves fired throughout his body.
Realizing that the blow had failed to sever the leg as intended, the seventh figure raised the axe once again, swinging it hard and missing the original wound by several inches.
Tossing the axe aside, the seventh figure took hold of the leg and began twisting and wrenching on it, attempting to tear it off at the shattered bone.
Feeling the crunching and splitting of the bone, along with the tearing of tissue and tendons as the leg came free from his body, Greg let out one final, blood-curdling scream when they tossed his leg onto the hot coals.
Hearing the sizzle and smelling the aroma of his own cooking flesh, Greg felt a metal object thrust into his mouth, prying open his jaw while breaking several of his lower teeth. A hot coal was then placed into his mouth, silencing his screams as he faded into darkness, expiring from the massive loss of blood and the extreme shock to his system.
Laying on the cave floor, partially dismembered and in a puddle of his own blood, Greg’s struggles were finally over.
~~~~
Lying in the darkness of the cave, Britney heard Greg’s final, agonizing scream fade away, the echoes of which seemed to live on throughout the vast network of underground tunnels and chambers for several minutes.
She conceded in her mind that he’d been right about what would come next. She was unaware of the hellish events that had taken place in Greg’s last few moments of life, but the one thing she did know for a fact, the only thing she was certain about—was that she was next.
Chapter Thirteen
As Nate lay listening to the fierce gun battle in the distance, he noticed the shots beginning to subside. Once the guns fell silent, the woods became eerily quiet. No birds could be heard singing. No squirrels could be heard barking. There were no sounds at all, save for the gentle breeze swaying the trees, setting free a few more of fall’s dying leaves.
After a few minutes of total silence, Nate could hear a disturbance to his left. It sounded as if a large animal was crashing through the woods with reckless a
bandon.
Listening carefully, he could make out the rhythm of the movement to be human. His heart began to race, and his muscles tightened with anxiety. He could feel the throb of each beat of his heart in the pain of his wound as his blood pressure increased.
Slowly reaching for his rifle in an attempt to not move too quickly, thus giving away his position, Nate began to raise the weapon when a UF soldier crashed through the brush, nearly tripping and falling directly in front of him.
Nate aimed his rifle at the soldier, flipped off the safety, and prepared to fire. The UF soldier caught a glimpse of Nate out of the corner of his eye and swung his rifle to meet the threat Nate imposed.
Squeezing the trigger, Nate’s M4 gave the horrifying ‘click’ of the hammer falling on the firing pin, without the accompanying crack of the rifle’s report. When Nate reached for the charging handle with his left hand to rack the rifle in a desperate attempt to clear the malfunction, the soldier aimed his rifle directly at him and gestured for him to lower his weapon.
Reluctantly, Nate lowered his M4 and laid it across his lap with the barrel pointing away from the soldier. The soldier looked back toward the direction from which he’d come, looked down at Nate’s leg, and then lowered his own rifle. With a nod to Nate, showing his respect, the man disappeared into the woods as quickly as he had arrived.
Laying his head back against the log, Nate breathed deeply and his heart rate began to slow. His moment to relax was soon over, however, when another figure burst out of the woods. This time, it was one of them—one of the mysterious people from the cave who had taken Britney.
Nate’s heart sank in his chest when he realized he had yet to clear his malfunction. Shit! he thought to himself as the figure bounded past him, in obvious pursuit of the UF soldier.
