by Mark Harritt
They walked the Contai back to the lab. His tribesmen called to him, trying to get a response. Their entreaties were met with shock batons until they quieted. Tirit didn’t look left or right as screams filled the air. He stood there docilely until one of his captures grabbed him by the arm and pulled him along to the laboratory. Mike watched until Tirit disappeared behind the door in the arch, the door slamming and cutting off Mike’s observation. Mike listened as the two Contai at the end of the walkway wept, knowing that their time was short.
The Turinzoni weren’t finished, though. They came back for Brett. They stopped in front of Brett’s cage and unlocked the door. They motioned for him to come out.
“Brett, are you okay?” Mike yelled.
One of the Turinzoni turned to glare at Mike, but he was used to the shock batons. The batons made you feel like your entire body was on fire, but it didn’t do any real damage. It could give you pain until you passed out, but each time, after Mike woke up, he evaluated himself. He wasn’t burnt or scarred where the shock batons touched him, and he didn’t think he had any neurological problems, at least, no more than usual. The batons weren’t something that caused permanent damage now, but Mike couldn’t swear that he wouldn’t wake up with stage four cancer one day because of it. But that was down the road, a problem to solve in the future.
“Brett, are you okay?” Craig yelled, echoing Mike.
Brett yelled back, “Leave me alone! They won’t do anything to me if you shut the hell up!”
That quieted Mike down. He knew that Brett had been tortured in here for months, and the last thing he wanted to do was cause Brett more pain. So he watched Brett crawl out of the cage. What Mike saw made him gasp. He didn’t know what they were doing to Brett, but his body was covered in tumors. Some of them were marked by weeping, open sores. The tumors limited Brett’s mobility, and it was painful to watch him slowly crawl out of the cage. From the way he moved, his knee seemed to be stiff, almost locked in place. That made it hard for him to get up from the ground, and he had to use the support of the cage to stand. Mike understood now why Brett sounded different. There was a large tumor on the side of his jaw. The Turinzoni pushed him toward the lab, almost making him fall over again. He walked with a limp.
“Good God!” Rich exclaimed.
Mike knew that Rich didn’t mean to, but his outburst made Brett flinch like he’d been whipped. Brett’s head dropped in defeat.
Mike had to do something, “Brett!”
Brett arms were firmly grasped by the Turinzoni, so he couldn’t turn around. Over his shoulder, Brett yelled back, “What Mike? What do you want?”
“Don’t you let them break you, Brett. You’re better than that.”
Craig yelled at him, “Don’t you let us down, you piece of shit. You kick their ass!”
Brett yelled back, “Screw you, Craig. I’m coming to kick your ass next.”
It worked. Brett’s back straightened. He was still a sorry sight to see, and in his condition, there was no way he could put up a fight; but, for the moment, he seemed to have a little bit of pride in the way he carried himself, no matter how short lived it might be.
Mike called out to him, “Hey, we’ll be right here. Take your best shot.”
“Fuck you, Mike!”
The door slammed shut behind Brett, ending the insults.
Mike leaned back against the bands of the cage.
“Mike, I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect to see that, all the tumors on him.”
“Don’t worry, Rich, no harm, no foul. He bounced back from it.”
Mike leaned his head against the bars behind him, “Rich, warriors are prideful men. Make no mistake, Brett is a warrior. He always has been. Warriors don’t want pity, they want respect. We gave him respect, and he understood what we were doing. I don’t know what the hell they’re doing to him in there, but I bet you he’ll make it and be right back out here with us.”
Rich didn’t say anything in return, probably thinking about what Mike had said. Mike listened for a while but he didn’t hear anything, so he slept.
----------------------------------------------------
The grey men brought Brett back later that day. He hobbled to his cage, and with great difficulty, he was able to crawl into it. The Turinzoni locked his cage and left.
“Brett, you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
Brett didn’t sound okay. He sounded tired. Mike told him that.
“No, I’m good. It’s just tiring. They put me through the ringer every time I go to the lab,” Brett responded.
“What did they do?”
“Samples.”
“What do you mean, samples?”
“They check blood, stool, semen. They take tissue samples of muscle and organs, do a spinal tap. They have a machine back there that I think is something like an EKG.”
Mike had to think about this, “Why are they doing all of that?”
“Sebius told me . . .” Brett stopped speaking.
“What did he tell you, Brett?”
Brett didn’t say anything for a few minutes.
Mike grew worried, “Brett?”
“I’m okay. I just need to rest.”
“What did Sebius tell you?”
“He told me, that he’d never seen a hominid like me. He had to run tests to see if I would be useful.”
That last sounded very ominous to Mike, “Useful how?”
“Mike, leave me alone. I need to rest for a while, then you can ask your damn questions. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”
“Okay Brett, I’ll leave you alone; but, I need to know what’s going on back there.”
“Sure, I’ll answer. Later though.”
“Okay Brett, go ahead and get some sleep.”
“Oh Mike.”
“Yeah, what?”
“They asked who our leader is.”
“What did you tell them?”
“I told them that it’s you.”
Mike felt a chill run down his spine. That had been the plan. They would be focused on him now; but it was still disconcerting.
“That’s what you wanted, right?” Brett asked.
“Yeah, it is. That’s what I wanted. Thanks for the heads up.”
“No problem. I sold it to them. They used their batons on me, and I passed out twice before I gave you up.”
A grim smile painted Mike’s face. It wouldn’t be too much longer before they came for him. He leaned his head back against the metal bands, and closed his eyes.
It took longer than he expected, a few hours. The door to the lab opened, and two Turinzoni walked out. It was Mike’s favorite, Zrelnta, with another that he recognized, but didn’t know the name. Zrelnta was playing a game, though. He stretched and yawned as he walked down the pathway, like he was on a stroll in the summer sun, not a care in the world. Zrelnta pulled his baton out and started tapping the steel cages as he walked. Not loud enough for Min to pay attention to, but enough to attract the attention of the prisoners.
The Contai hissed and spit at the Turinzoni, the gesture returned in kind. The Turinzoni didn’t waste time on them, though. They walked past Brett, who watched them carefully. Zrelnta tapped Brett’s cage as they walked past, and Mike heard the sizzle of the baton.
Mike went into fear display mode. He pushed himself back into the corner of the cage, and whimpered, just loud enough for the jailers to hear him.
The Turinzoni who Mike recognized, but didn’t know a name for, spoke, “That’s their leader? That spineless turd? We haven’t even gotten to him yet, and he’s already pissing himself.”
Zrelnta shrugged, “Of course he’s about to piss himself. He’s not Turinzoni. We intimidate the lesser races.”
“How can he be a leader, though? What men would follow that turd? He has no courage. He would be challenged immediately.”
“You’re mistaken Gom’druer. Not all armies are like ours. Sometimes, turds like him are only in charge because
they pay money to be in charge.”
Gom’druer jerked his head around to look at Zrelnta, “What do you mean? They weren’t soldiers?”
Zrelnta laughed, “No, they weren’t soldiers. They were never in the ranks. They buy their way in to a higher rank and then they believe they are superior to the common soldier.”
Gom’druer shook his head, “That’s foolish. Their leaders wouldn’t, couldn’t be respected if they didn’t do time in the ranks.”
They stopped in front of Mike’s cage, and he cowered in the back of it. Zrelnta laughed, and triggered the shock baton. Mike screamed as the sparks arced from the end of the baton. Tears coated his face, and urine trailed down his leg. It worked. Both jailers looked at him with disgust.
Gom’druer spit, “I’d gut him myself if he was one of my leaders.”
Zrelnta nodded, “Any self-respecting Turinzoni would. There’s no way I’d follow that into battle.”
Zrelnta pointed at the lock on the cage. Gom’druer pulled a ring of keys out, located the correct key, and opened the lock. The front of the cage fell open.
----------------------------------------------------
Chapter Three
The dark had always been a welcome companion to Rieci. The night embraced him and protected him as he hunted. He moved slowly through the trees, stalking the enemy. He’d spent most of his day grieving over his boy, and now he pursued revenge, stalking his son’s killers. The night had been productive, his blade wet with the blood of his enemies. He was a wraith among the trees, a nightmare of flesh and blood as he reeved souls from the living.
Who he killed first was an easy decision. He followed the trail of the team that had killed his little boy. An atlatl dart took their sentry in the throat. He died choking on his own blood, unable to warn the others that they were about to be murdered. After that, it was easy for Rieci to slit their throats, one at a time, asleep in their campsite.
He’d repeated that same strategy throughout the night. He would find a group of men, take out the sentry or sentries with the atlatl, and then go in to slit throats. The strategy had worked well for him. The darts whispered through the air, killing almost silently. He’d killed dozens. Too soon, he’d run out of darts. When the night moved toward morning twilight, he knew he didn’t have much time, and decided to move far away from the green men, hiding up in the mountains.
The next night was tougher, though. The green men figured out that they were being stalked, and they shifted tactics to adjust for the threat. Now, sentries were paired, and none of the men moved by themselves anymore. That just meant he had to be a little more creative, a little more patient. He waited until he saw a vulnerability, and pounced when he realized the soldiers were coming out by themselves to piss in the middle of the night. Eventually, they put sentries over the latrines as well. More sentries meant less sleep, which meant that eventually they would make mistakes. So, he watched where the enemy moved, and waited.
The sound of the mortars was omnipresent. They never quit. He could only imagine the destruction that was happening in the canyons. He held no hope for his people. Because of this, Rieci had been surprised to see the shuttle fly out of the canyons. He’d watched the shuttle fly out, and from the shuttle’s flight approach, he assumed that they were going to attack the mortars raining steel down on the canyons. He knew that it was a futile quest, but he’d been prepared to join his friends and die with them as they assaulted the mortars. Then, the rockets leapt from the ground and he watched as the shuttle tumbled from the sky in flames.
He tried to get to the shuttle before the green soldiers did, but he wasn’t quick enough. There were too many of the green men in the area and the enemy got there before he did. Even if he’d gotten there before the enemy, there was no way he could have saved anyone. He would have burned with his friends inside the wreckage. Some men crawled out trying to save themselves. Others screamed, trapped in the twisted metal as flames spread throughout. The ones that crawled out were beaten and taken prisoner. He watched one of the black armored soldiers try to fight the enemy, but one of his arms hung useless, and the only thing he accomplished was to be beaten senseless and taken prisoner.
Rieci’s world was completely destroyed. He’d watched as tons of mortar rounds were fired into the canyons. His heart held no hope that anyone was left alive in that hell. He knew his wife Elnai had also become one of the green men’s victims. His fears were confirmed when the mortars fell silent and the enemy sent their soldiers in to root out anyone that was still alive. There was no gunfire, no sound of resistance. He knew that everybody was dead.
He’d identified this hilltop as the one from which the rockets had arced into the air to slam into the shuttle. He’d done a thorough reconnaissance and identified this trail as the best place to watch and wait for the enemy. The trail led to the top of the hill and was the most direct route to the bivouac area of the green men. Soldiers were lazy, so he knew they’d take the most direct route. Now he waited, hoping that the green men would walk down this trail. His goal was to kill as many of the enemy as he could before they killed him. This would be a good place for him die, avenging his friends in the shuttle. To kill and be killed in turn. If he survived tonight, he would do the exact same tomorrow night. He had no plans to live past his encounters with the green men.
Soon, his patience was rewarded. Two of the green soldiers walked down the trail toward him. If he struck quickly, he might be able to take them both. He could cut the throat of the one, then attack the other. With luck, he would be able to take them both without an alarm being raised. If not, well then, he would see his son’s beautiful face again, and perhaps his wife Elnai would be with them as well.
He closed his eyes for a moment, waiting for the prey to come closer, remembering the faces of his wife and son. Elnai’s expression was often disapproving lately, with his time spent away from his family, until he got her into bed and put a smile on her face. Watham was always looking for his father’s approval, his gentle features pleading for attention. The corners of Rieci’s mouth tugged upward at the memories. Then he opened his eyes, studied his prey, and, at that moment, became death.
He was frozen in place, breathing quietly, giving nothing away. The soldiers came closer, until they were directly across from him on the path. He waited until they were one step past. He launched from his position next to the tree, and struck at the neck of the soldier closest to him. His knife went in deeper than he’d planned, and the blade stuck in the vertebrae of the soldier. He had to hit the soldier in the side of the head to get the knife unstuck, knowing that the other green soldier was reacting to what had just happened.
Rieci jerked his knife away from the dying man’s neck, quickly turning to face the other soldier and found . . . nothing. He backed away from the corpse on the trail, ready for the other soldier to come at him from the dark. He saw a shadow move, and he tensed for the attack. He was unprepared for the quiet voice that greeted him.
“You’re getting slow in your old age, Rieci.”
Rieci relaxed and let his breath out, “I was wondering if they had gotten you, Geonti.”
The shadow in the darkness coalesced into the figure of a man and walked toward Rieci, “No, not yet.” Geonti placed his hand on Rieci’s shoulder, “I found a team tracking me, and I had to take care of them before I came to find you. I tried to catch you at the hunting camp. I found the graves. I’m sorry about Watham.”
Rieci nodded. It wouldn’t be hard for a tracker of Geonti’s caliber to figure out what had happened in the camp.
“Did you find anybody else?”
Geonti nodded, “I did, but the green men found them first. You and I are the only ones left on this side of the valley.”
He motioned toward the bodies, “Let’s get these off the trail, then we can figure out what we’re going to do about the ones on the hill.”
“Good idea.”
Rieci grabbed the one that he’d killed, and started dragg
ing him off the trail. Geonti did the same thing to the corpse on his side of the trail, and then crossed the trail to Rieci. Together, they moved deeper into the forest. When they were in deep enough, they both squatted down over their heels, close enough together that they could talk in quiet voices and hear each other.
Geonti started, “Do you think anyone is still alive in the canyons?”
Rieci shook his head, “No, there’s no one left alive. If there were, we’d hear the sound of combat. I haven’t heard any gunfire since the enemy soldiers went into the canyons.”
“What do you want to do?” Geonti asked.
Rieci hooked a thumb toward the top of the hill, “first, I want to kill every son of a bitch that’s up there.”
“After that?”
Rieci shook his head, “I don’t know. I want to kill more of them, but I want to see the canyons also. If the large shuttle is gone, some of our people may still be alive.”
“Elnai?”
Rieci nodded, “If she’s alive, she deserves to know what happened to Watham.”
“And if she’s dead?”
Rieci took a deep breath, “If she’s dead, then I’m dead as well. I’ll spend the rest of my life hunting these bastards until they’re all dead or I am.”
“There’s no way we can get across the valley to the canyons, Rieci,” Geonti pointed out.
Rieci smiled, “Well, you’re right, not with all the patrols between us and the canyons. But, if we had a diversion, we might make it.”
Geonti’s eyes narrowed, “You have a diversion planned?”
Rieci nodded, “Yes. I know where they keep all the shells for the mortars.” He pointed up the hill, “And they have rockets. If I can aim those rockets at their ammunition depot, then I think we’ll have a very big distraction. They’ll have to bring in their men from the field to help put out the fires, or to at least recover bodies. And we can use the confusion to slip across the valley.”
Geonti considered Rieci’s plan, “That sounds good, but there will be soldiers in the canyons.”
