by Mark Harritt
Caul continued poking fun at Geonti. Geonti glared at him. Mike looked at Matki.
Matki translated, “Caul said that he would personally go and tell Retha that Geonti was stuck out here with me. And, that he would personally take care of any hurt feelings that she has.”
Mike and Everett chuckled. Mickey grinned. Tom laughed out loud. Geonti gave them all dirty looks.
Mike looked around at the team, “Everybody ready?”
He got thumbs up from the team. Caul was already waiting at the ramp. Mike walked over to Shar and retrieved the translator that Lenny had given the team. It was sitting next to Shar’s translator. When Shar found out that Mike had a translator for Matki’s language, he’d set his up in a different mode, one that was used to acquire new languages. For the past hour, the two translators had been spitting out words and sentences at each other, quicker than Mike could follow. Shar’s translator was learning English. It had a better, more adaptive program than Lenny and Bobby had set up on the old IPhone that Mike used.
Caul and Tom were the first ones out the door. Shar had landed the aircraft so that the back ramp was aimed at the tree line closest to the village. Mike, Everett, and Mickey followed quickly. Not that they could be super stealthy with the aircraft sitting in the middle of the landing zone. It was good that the thing was so damn quiet, even though it caused that unsettling sensation in the ear when you were outside.
Everett walked in close to Mike, “You think the slavers got there first?”
Mike shook his head, “I don’t know. I’m just hoping that we find them safe.”
This area was different than the area they’d left. Higher in the mountains, it was colder here, and the grass was giving way to more moss. This moss was different that Mike was used to. It had more cushion and spring to it. There seemed to be more water in the air as well. The area reminded him of the rain forests in the Pacific Northwest. The low vegetation was damp as the team moved through the underbrush, the dew on the leaves quickly soaking into their clothes and skin. The valley was narrowing as it went further into the mountains.
The vegetation was lush, with thicker underbrush, so they walked in a ranger file toward the village. Caul moved about thirty meters ahead of the team about thirty meters to look for the bad guys. Tom followed behind Caul, then Mike, Everett, with Mickey watching their six o’clock.
They moved quietly, not knowing what was ahead of them. From what Shar told them, Mike didn’t think they could send out a large force, not if they only had sixty of them left to guard the outpost. Still, any amount larger than their small fire team could compromise them and kill them if they had the initiative.
Once again, having Caul was a blessing. He was taking them down one of the myriad small animal trails in the area, giving them maximum concealment as they moved through the trees. Mike could barely make out Caul moving ahead, and usually only because a shadow eclipsed the dappled sun shining down through the leaves. Tom seemed more in tune with what Caul was doing, so Mike took his cues from him.
Things didn’t feel right. Mike could be imagining it because of the tension, but he didn’t think so. Usually, when they were walking through the woods, you could hear animals moving through the forest. Mike didn’t hear anything, though. The forest was silent, tense.
Tom turned around to look back at Mike, checking on the team. Mike could see the concerned look on his face. Evidently, Mike wasn’t the only person that thought something was wrong. Mike in turn looked back at Everett. Everything seemed to be okay, so he turned back toward the front.
Suddenly, Tom stopped, and held his hand up in a fist, indicating that they should freeze in place. Mike stopped in mid stride, passing the signal back to Everett, knowing that any movement, any sound, could give their position away. Tom’s fist turned into a flat hand motioning for the team to move to a prone position.
Mike slowly squatted down, and moved to the bole of a large tree for cover and concealment. As he settled down next to it, he watched Tom to see what was going on. He looked back toward Everett and Mickey every few minutes to make sure everything was okay back in that direction.
Soon though, that evil monster that’s plagued soldiers since the beginning of time started to rear its ugly head. Boredom could be a bitch. It wasn’t so much that there wasn’t a damn thing that Mike could see or hear. It’s just that he was very curious about what the hell was going on up front with Caul. The minutes stretched away, ten, twenty, then thirty minutes.
Time continued, and they’d been in position over an hour. Mike looked at Tom, but he didn’t look too concerned. Mike turned back and looked out at his field of fire. The heat of the day rose up, and Mike suddenly could feel his boredom turn to sleepiness. He shook his head, hoping that they could move soon. Finally, Caul approached the team, and he didn’t look happy.
Tom waved Mike forward. He moved up to their position, “What’s up?”
“We need your translator. Somethings up,” Tom explained.
Mike pulled the translator out and turned it on.
Caul waited until Mike nodded, then started talking, “Something is wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“There should be scouts out. I can’t find any.”
“Could they be in the village?” Tom asked.
Caul shook his head, “No, there are always scouts out during the daytime. Hunters should be out, checking the traps and looking for game.”
Mike pointed up the trail, “Have you gone into the village?”
Again, Caul shook his head, “No, I haven’t gone that far yet. I’ve been checking around the area, looking for sign.”
“Well, let’s move forward. We can stop and check when we get close to the village.”
Caul nodded, and Tom agreed as well. They stood up, and Mike looked around to find Everett looking at him. Mike waved for him to come forward. Everett stood, and walked back to tap Mickey on the shoulder so that he knew to move as well.
Caul led the way in. He moved slower now, more cautious. Mike smelled smoke and became uneasy. It was more smoke than cooking fires would account for.
When they got close to the village, Mike indicated that they should go ahead and spread out. Now, instead of a Ranger file, they were arranged in a modified wedge so they all had clear fields of fire toward the village.
They approached the village cautiously. The village was built in the center of a large clearing. They stopped ten feet from the edge of the forest, close enough to see, but far enough away that they still had cover. They looked out to scan the village before they moved in. This village was different than the one that Matki’s tribe lived in. The houses looked more like the earth lodges of the Native Americans. Overlaying the earth lodges were thick layers of earth and moss that looked like it was growing there. The moss gave the buildings more protection from the elements, and also gave the lodges more structural integrity.
They could see where the smoke was coming from. A number of the houses had collapsed, and it looked like there was a smoldering fire in one of them. They couldn’t see any corpses, though. Nothing that indicated that there had been any fighting. Just the collapsed buildings.
Mike got an uneasy feeling about the village. It was too quiet. Except for the few collapse buildings, there was nothing out of the ordinary, except it was deserted. Mike motioned, and the team moved forward. Mike walked past one lodge, and he could see a hunter’s atlatl and darts leaning against the wall, almost as if the hunter would be right back. It was unusual, and very strange.
Everett’s voice broke the silence, and Mike almost jumped out of his skin, “Well, it doesn’t look like there was any kind of struggle here.”
Tom ducked inside one of the lodges. Seconds passed, and he re-emerged shaking his head, “Nothing in there. It looks normal.”
Mike looked around, confusion on his face, “Maybe they just left?”
Tom pointed at the atlatl, “Without their weapons?”
Mickey’s voice
rumbled in the quiet of the village, “I don’t know Mike, they left a lot of stuff here. I’d think they’d take it with them if they were leaving.”
Tom walked into one of the huts, looked around, then walked back out, “Still some embers on the fire. That might be why some of these lodges burned down. With no one to watch the fires, a spark must have jumped to the building.”
Mike switched on the translator, “Caul, why would they leave everything here?”
Caul shook his head, “There is no reason that I know of that would cause them to leave all of their tools and belongings here. But, there is no sign that they were fleeing from here either.”
Mike looked over at Everett, “Ev?”
Everett shrugged his shoulders, “Dunno.”
They continued walking. They looked into the lodges as they passed. A few things dropped, but nothing that would indicate they were running away. Nothing was really out of order. Mike walked into one. It wasn’t a huge building, big enough for maybe four people if they didn’t need too much space. Wooden bowls were stacked close to the stone hearth. Jerked meat was hung so that rodents couldn’t get to it. Bedding and extra clothes were stacked. Wooden toys for an infant were in the floor on a tanned animal hide. Mike walked over to the cooking hearth and felt the stones. They were cold. The hearth was full of ashes and mostly burned sticks. It looked like the fire had just burned out when it ran out of fuel. Tom was probably right about the lodges that had burned down.
Mike walked back out, “This is like some kind of ghost town.”
Everett nodded and snapped his fingers, “Poof!”
They walked back to the center of the town and circled, looking for sign.
“Uh, Mike, found something,” Mickey waved them over.
There was a dirt space free from moss. In it, was a partial print with a tread. Mike knew that the villagers wore moccasins like Matki’s tribe did.
Tom looked at it, “Damn it.”
Mike looked down at the boot print, and a cold, empty feeling spreading through his stomach. Still, he couldn’t imagine that the village would just allow themselves to be taken. Everett echoed his thoughts.
“Could the slavers have taken them?” Everett asked Caul.
Caul shook his head, “I can’t imagine that Althus would allow his people to be taken without a fight. Even if he tried, the warriors in this village wouldn’t allow their families to be taken by slavers.”
Mike took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair, “This is crazy. People don’t just disappear.”
They walked through the village, arriving at the opposite edge of the clearing, a wall of trees delineating the edge. There was still no explanation for the empty village.
There was nothing back where they’d come from, so Mike pointed up the valley, “Caul, what’s up there?”
Caul pointed with his chin, “It leads up to the mountains. That is where the river begins. Four streams come out of the mountains and merge into the waterfall,” Caul explained.
That explained why the area looked so much like Washington State. With a waterfall close by, the air would be a lot more humid. The coolness of the elevation and the amount of water in the air created a micro climate that imitated the rain forest around Mount Rainier.
“Well, we haven’t found anything down here, so let’s keep looking,” Mike motioned, and they moved back into a Ranger file.
Caul walked into the forest, watching the ground before him. Tom followed behind, his eyes looking for anything that Caul may have missed.
It didn’t take long for Caul to find sign. He held up his hand, then waved Tom forward. He pointed at something on the ground. Tom walked forward and knelt down. They’d found something. They seemed to reach an unspoken consensus, and Tom walked back to Mike.
“A whole lot of people came through here. Some of them seemed to be burdened pretty heavy.”
“You’re saying that they were carrying something?” Everett asked.
Tom nodded, “I’m not sure what they were carrying, but the tracks I found show the heel dug in deeper leaving than coming. That’s on the grey man tracks. I’m pretty sure they were carrying something.”
Caul grinned, “You are becoming as good a tracker as me.”
Tom shook his head, “No, I’m nowhere near as good as you or the rest of the hunters in your tribe. Matki puts me to shame when it’s time to hunt.”
Caul chuckled, “Tom, that’s Matki. No one is as good in the forest as he is. You hold yourself to an impossible standard. Not even I,” Caul paused and hooked a thumb into his chest, “am as good a woodsman as Matki.” He quickly held up one finger to make a point, “But if you ever tell him that I said that, I will deny it.”
Mike grinned. He turned back to Tom, “Can you follow the trail?”
Tom nodded, “Like a six lane highway.”
Caul turned to follow the trail. The trees and the underbrush began to thin out. They spread back out from the ranger file into a wedge formation, with Caul as the center point. The air grew colder, and the wind grew stronger as the valley narrowed. They were walking up in elevation as they followed the trail, the slope getting steeper as they continued. The trees thinned further as they walked, and finally, disappeared completely. Now, they walked across moss covered rocky outcroppings.
As the path narrowed, even Mike could follow the trail before them. Hundreds of people had walked up this trail, some in combat boots, but most in moccasins. The village had been herded up into these hills.
The steep slope leveled out. The ground turned into a large cul-de-sac, surrounded by rising earthen mounds that led back to the steep mountainside. That’s where they found them. Bodies lay propped up against one of the mounds, already cold in the mountain air. At least thirty to forty dead bodies lay next to each other in an orderly row. Mike walked over to the closest, an elderly lady, and looked at her face.
She had not gone easily. Her face was stretched in a grimace of pain. Her back was arched as if she had experienced some kind of shock. Mike looked across the bodies and saw the exact same expression and posture on each of the corpses.
Mickey was examining one of the bodies, “Hey, look at this.”
Mike walked over and looked at what Mickey was talking about. Mickey pulled the man’s tunic aside and there was a ring around the corpse’s neck.
“What the hell is that?” Everett asked.
Mickey probed the area with his fingers, “I don’t know, but it looks like some kind of energy burn, maybe an electrical shock.”
Mike turned to another corpse, an elderly man. He pulled back the tunic and found the same thing, “This guy has a ring around his neck also.”
He stood and turned to find Caul staring down at one of the bodies. Caul had been walking among the corpses, looking for people from his tribe. Mike and the team were clinical about the dead bodies, but Caul had known these people. Some of them had been his friends.
Mike spoke in his limited pidgin, “I’m sorry, Caul.”
Caul shook his head, “You have nothing to be sorry about, Mike. This was not your doing.” He nodded at the body that Mike had just checked, “That was Althus, the headman of this village.”
Mike was at a loss for words, “Did you find anybody from your tribe?”
Caul shook his head. Mike could see emotions playing across Caul’s face. Caul didn’t say anything else, and Mike didn’t ask him anymore questions. Caul turned and walked away from the corpses, back down the slope. Everett walked over to Mike, “All the bodies we checked had the same mark.”
Mike looked back at the row of bodies, “They must have been wearing some kind of collar.”
Tom was staring at the corpses, “What I don’t understand, is how they got the collars on all the people in the first place. Nothing Caul told me indicates that these people would willingly stick their heads in a noose.”
Mickey walked up, wiping his hands, “More than that, this makes me hate the fucking Turinzoni even more.”
/>
He waved towards the bodies with a sweeping motion, “think about it. Look at the placement of the bodies. They were selected, then taken over there one by one, and killed. No emotion involved what so ever. Just another task to be completed.”
Mickey looked down at the ground. His big hands made fists. He was so tense that his hands started to turn white. Mike grew concerned and touched his shoulder.
Mickey relaxed his grip, “There is a fundamental evil in these people. They discarded them like trash. They don’t value human life, or any life, at all.”
Mike agreed, “Even the alien, Shar, said that.”
Mickey looked up at Mike, perplexed, “Shar isn’t an alien, Mike.”
Now Mike was confused. He stared at Mickey, “How can he not be an alien. His hands are different. He has a throat sack. It’s blue.”
Mickey shook his head, “You have to look past that. There are more similarities between us than there are differences. The wrists, the elbows, the knees, the shoulders. Two ears, two eyes, hair on top of his head. I bet he even has two nipples, not that I want to check.”
Mike stared at him. He knew Mickey better than that, “Really?”
Mickey conceded, “Okay, yeah, I do want to check.” Mickey held up his hands to forestall what Mike was going to say next, “No, not in a gay way. For science. But I don’t think he’d appreciate that, though.”
“Never know, he might like that kind of thing,” Tom pointed out.
Mickey held up his hands, “Whoa. Not really interested in the mating habits of a different hominid species.”
Mike stared at him again.
Mickey conceded again, “Okay, maybe, but not when I’m involved.”
Tom grinned, “Okay, Captain Kirk.”
Mike thought of something, “So, you’re saying that the Turinzoni . . . ?”
Mickey nodded, “Same thing. Another human, hominid species. Too many structural similarities. If I ever get time to dissect one, I’ll bet it has most of the same organs in the same places. I’ll bet most of the biochem is the same as well.”
Everett shook his head, “This place just keeps getting weirder and weirder.”
