by Steven Bird
Seeing concern on the man’s face rather than rage, Jessie took a chance. “Nate. His name is Nate.”
“Is? Is he still alive?”
“Do you know him?” Jessie asked.
“We may. Now, please, tell us if he’s okay and where he’s at. Were there others from his group somewhere?”
“I gave you his first name. Now, you give me his last name, and we’ll go from there,” Jessie countered.
“It starts with an H. His last name starts with an H. That’s as far as we’re gonna go, not knowing who exactly we’re dealing with. Now, tell us where he is and if there were others. Nate is a friend of ours, and so were the other men he was working with. They didn’t return when expected, and we’re out here to find them. Those UF hunters you encountered were probably looking for them. It was a stroke of luck for us that their attention was on you, which allowed us to move in undetected and engage them while their attention was focused elsewhere.”
“Lower your weapons and let’s move out of this area before any friends of theirs come looking for them. I’ll tell you everything you need to know along the way.”
“Along the way to where?” the man asked.
“To Nate, of course,” Jessie replied.
Looking Jessie over, the man turned to two of his companions and said, “Search the hunters for anything of use. Get this guy a ‘74, too. There’s only so much he can do with that old shotgun.”
Chapter Fourteen
Lying there in the darkness of her subterranean prison, Britney longed for the ability to sleep. She longed for the ability to make her mind stop running through all of the possible horrors that lay ahead of her.
Feeling a breath on her cheek, she flinched, only to feel something brush up against her and quickly move away. Her heart raced as she once again knew she wasn’t alone. Was it toying with her? Was it trying to scare her? Or was it interested in her in some other way?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the terrifying blast of the horn used by her captors, and the eerie echoes that reverberated throughout the cave system that followed.
She could hear the figure in the darkness move away toward the entrance to the chamber. Something was different this time. The horn blast came from a different direction than it had when they had come for Greg. It also had a slightly different tone and duration. Are they communicating with those things? she wondered.
She waited silently for something to happen, but nothing came. The last time the horn blew, they had arrived quickly to carry Greg away. She assumed this was a good sign, and that the horn didn’t mean what it had previously. She had heard the horn blow from that direction before, and nothing had ever happened. Perhaps nothing would happen this time?
She began to hear movement in the distance, somewhere along one of the passages of the cave system. She could hear the rattle of chains and the sounds of heavy footfalls getting closer. Her nerves were on edge, and her senses were heightened to the max as she attempted to paint a picture of what was going on around her with sound alone.
The noise of a scuffle entered the chamber as the sounds approached her. Stopping just short, a thud and the rattle of chains impacting the ground next to her, followed by a moan from a voice that was clearly winded from the impact.
They’ve got someone else, she thought. Is it Nate or Jessie? Oh, God, please don’t let it be. They don’t deserve this. They’re only in this mess to help me.
Once the figures that had carried the new arrival into the room had apparently left, Britney said into the darkness, “Who’s there?”
Startled, the voice replied in Russian, “какие,” or “what?”
Understanding bits of Russian from her time in the camps with Russian guards, she said, “это нормально,” which means, “It’s okay.” “Do you speak English?” she asked.
“A little,” she heard the answer in a choppy accent.
“My name is Britney,” she said.
“Yuri,” the voice in the darkness replied.
“Are you UF?” she asked.
Pausing, the voice answered, “No concern of yours.”
“Well, we’re down here together facing the same fate, so what does it matter, now?”
“Fate? What fate?”
Britney explained to Yuri all she knew from her time in captivity in the caves. She explained the horrors Greg had passed along to her, as well as the horrific screams of agony he had made once he was finally carried away.
She listened for a response, but Yuri remained silent.
“Since you won’t tell me, I’m gonna go ahead and assume you’re UF. Do you have comrades out there looking for you?” she asked.
Yuri again remained silent.
“Look,” she protested, “I’m not trying to get some sort of military intelligence out of you. I have an interest because I want to know if there is a chance of your friends finding us before they come for me. I just want a glimmer of hope. That’s all. So, stop it with the stonewalling and talk to me.”
After a brief pause, Yuri said, “Whoever are these monsters… they killed team I operated with. I am sole survivor.”
With that revelation, Britney’s hopes for a rescue were dashed. Even though the UF were her enemy, and had proven themselves to be time and time again, including their role in the murder of her parents, she had at least hoped she’d be taken once again as a prisoner of the UF and freed from her underground hell.
Yuri could hear her begin to cry in the darkness. “Why you cry?” he asked.
Regaining her composure, she replied, “That’s a pretty stupid question.”
After a few minutes of awkward silence, she said, “Just so you know, your friends killed my parents. They took a busload of us to a mass grave and began shooting at us, killing everyone but me. You occupiers are not just invaders, you’re murderers. Cold-blooded murderers. You deserve to be down here. You deserve this fate.”
“No… No, that not true,” Yuri protested. “We are here to restore peace!”
“Oh, yeah, then what were you doing in these woods? You were looking for us, weren’t you?”
“Was looking for insurgents,” he replied. “Insurgents that attacked bus.”
“You can’t really be that naïve… can you?”
Hearing no response, she continued, “If you’re not that naïve, you’re obviously that stupid, or you willfully accept the lies you're told to help you sleep at night.”
“No! These words you say are not true! We are here to restore peace!”
“Whatever,” she retorted, “And now you’re here with me… and him.”
“Him?” Yuri asked, confused by her statement. “Who is… him?”
“The one in the darkness that doesn’t make a sound. We’re not alone in here. I doubt we ever are.”
Chapter Fifteen
Once clear of the ambush site, Jessie and the others stopped for a water break after traveling east on foot for about twenty minutes. “Tell me everything,” the man who had been questioning him asked.
“Before we get into the details, how about some proper introductions?” Jessie suggested. “You all know my name.”
“I’m Q,” the man in Flecktarn declared. “It’s short for Quentin. This gentleman is Carl,” he said, gesturing to the man to his right in Multi-Cam. “The gentleman with the big ol’.45-70 lever-gun is Daryl,” Q said as Daryl nodded, tipping his floppy brown leather frontiersman-style hat to Jessie.
Turning to a short, stocky, bearded man in Scorpion Camo, Q said, “This human brick wall is Sam.” Turning to his six-foot-tall African-American counterpart, he added, “and this formidable fellow is Tyrone.”
“Pleased to meet you all,” Jessie said with a nod.
Looking Jessie squarely in the eye, Q insisted, “Now, please, tell us what you know.”
Jessie explained to them how he had been traveling east when he stumbled across Nate and Britney, who were being pursued by the UF. He then explained how the trio was travelin
g together when they were pushed south into the mountains below Highway 411, and how they had encountered the strange, animal-hide-clad individuals and how the beasts had taken Britney. He explained in great detail his and Nate’s foray into the cave, and how he had to leave Nate behind to seek help.
Retrieving a topographical map from his jacket pocket, Q unfolded it and mumbled, “Let’s see. Okay, Dandridge is here… oh, yes, here is 411. So, you were in this general area?” he asked.
Nodding in agreement, Jessie said explained, “Yeah. And we traveled to this area here when our encounters with, um, them, occurred.”
“Do you think you can find it in the dark?” Q asked, looking at the sun’s position in the sky. “We can’t get that far on foot with the remaining daylight. We’ll have to push hard into the night.”
“Yeah. Yeah, sure. I traveled in the dark all night last night. It’s the only way I know the area between here and there. But speaking of traveling on foot, did any of you see a dun horse running away from the gunfight? I was leading my horse on foot when those bastards ambushed me. I sent him running to keep him safe.”
Looking around, Q asked, “Anyone see a horse?”
Seeing them all shake their heads no, Jessie sighed and said, “Well, let’s get going. Nate’s been a sitting duck for far too long now.
“Do you guys have night vision?” Jessie asked. “Because those bastards do. It’s how they move so well in the darkness of the caves. It’s awfully damn hard to work your way through a cave with torches and flares illuminating your position when your opponents can move without being seen.”
“So, you’re telling me these guys dress up like some sort of cavemen, but use high-tech night vision?” Q asked with a confused look on his face.
“I’m afraid so,” Jessie confirmed. “Which also means they’ll have it in the dark of the woods, too.”
“We’ve got a hand-held thermal. It’s really more of a game tracker than anything else. We’re lucky to stay supplied in ammo and weapons. Having night vision for all our guys just isn’t workable given our suppressed supply chain.” Looking around while he gathered his thoughts, Q asked again, “So, you’re sure they all have night vision?”
“We took a PVS-14 from one of them in the cave. I left that one with Nate. While working my way east to find help, I encountered a few more of the bastards; one of which was riding Hank, my horse. I took him down, with Hank’s help, of course. He wore a head-mounted PVS-14 like the others.”
“The good stuff,” Q replied.
“Yep.”
“Where’s that unit? The one you took from the guy on your horse?” Q asked.
“Unfortunately, it’s lashed to the makeshift saddle on Hank’s back, which is now running around in the woods somewhere.”
Thinking things over for a minute, Q said, “Well, if Nate’s in as bad a shape as you said, we can’t waste any more time. We’ll just have to risk bumping into those freaks in the dark.”
Turning and looking to Sam, Daryl, Tyrone, and Carl, Q asked, “Are you guys good with that?”
“Hell, yeah!” Tyrone replied. “I can’t stand the thought of Nate sitting out there in the woods alone with those… whoever they are, looking for him.”
“That, and the clock is ticking on his injuries,” Sam added.
“Let’s get to it,” Daryl said with eagerness in his voice.
“Alright, then,” Q announced, as he turned and began walking due west, “No need to chat about it any further. Off we go!”
~~~~
Awakened by little Zack climbing into bed with him and his wife, Peggy, Nate rolled over, snuggling up next to her. Reaching his arm around her with a yawn, he said, “Well, I guess it’s time to get up. I’ve got a big day ahead of me. I’m supposed to help Evan with that cellar he’s working on.”
Mumbling, Peggy protested, “No, don’t get up yet. Snuggle with Zack and me for just a little while longer.”
“How can I resist an offer like that?” he murmured with a smile, cuddling up next to her.
Awakened by the bone-chilling sound of coyotes howling in his vicinity, Nate sat up quickly, causing his head to spin. Feeling the throbbing pain in his leg, Nate mumbled, “Ah, damn it to hell. Oh, how I wish I was still in that dream right now.”
As his mind began to clear, Nate looked around and realized it was completely dark. How long was I out? he wondered. Wait, were those coyotes? Ah, hell. Those mongrels must have picked up the scent of my wound on the breeze.
Thinking things through, he knew if he had to take a shot at one, he’d simply be trading coyotes for their furry two-legged foes. I’m not sure which is worse, Nate pondered.
Pulling the headband of the night vision monocular onto his head, Nate positioned the PVS14 in front of his right eye and switched the unit on. Speaking aloud, hoping to scare away his four-legged foe, Nate said, “I bet you song dogs think I can’t see in the dark, don’t ya? Well, I’ve got a surprise for your flea-bitten asses. Now, git!” he barked aggressively.
He listened intently, hoping to hear the sound of retreating paws, but the woods were eerily silent. Even the insects and crawly critters of the night seemed to be afraid to make a sound or a move.
Hearing a twig break behind him, Nate smacked a log with a stick he had picked up off the ground, and said once again in a controlled voice, “Git! Damn you!” trying not to be too loud.
Hearing chatter between several of the coyotes in the darkness to his left flank, Nate wondered what exactly it was the dogs were planning. He’d seen their handiwork with the flock of sheep back at the homesteads more than enough to know how well they hunted as a pack. If they were letting you know they were there, it was for a reason.
Scanning the area with his night vision, Nate rolled over onto his left hip to try to see over the log behind him, just in time to catch a glimpse of movement. “You bastards ain’t as sneaky as you think. I see you out there. Now, git!” he snarled. “Git before I skin you and make hats out of you! Go on, git!”
One thing Nate knew for certain was the fact that the coyotes back at the homesteads seemed to always know when an animal was injured or lame. They seemed to target the weak, and right at this moment, that was him. They could probably smell the blood and the condition of his wound from miles away.
Although they’d rarely targeted humans in the past, this new world, where unrestricted subsistence hunting had taken its toll on the coyote’s regular food supply, had altered the previous norms. Coyote encounters with humans had been on the rise, and given his injured state and the aroma of fresh blood and of his wound, well, they may not pass on the opportunity for a meal.
Thinking of all his options, Nate knew he couldn’t continue portraying himself as prey. He had to be a fellow predator. Reaching up and taking hold of a low hanging tree branch, Nate pulled himself upward in an attempt to stand. Pushing with his injured leg sent a searing, burning pain shooting throughout his body. “Holy hell. Grrrrrr aaahhhhh, damn it, that hurts!” he grunted while biting his lip to keep from screaming aloud. Finally getting up onto his prosthetic leg, Nate attempted to stabilize his balance with the tree branch. The pain in his leg was almost too much to bear, but he knew the pain of coyote teeth tearing into his guts while he was still alive would be even worse. He had seen their handiwork enough to do anything it took to avoid falling prey to those filthy beasts.
“I ain’t goin’ down like that, you damn dogs!” he shouted.
Listening, he could hear spurts of movement all around him. He knew he had been completely surrounded by them while he was asleep, and he also knew the fact they weren’t retreating based on his obvious awareness of them was proof an attack was coming soon.
Mustering up every ounce of strength that remained in his body, he slung his rifle around his neck and began pulling himself up into the branches with his upper body strength alone. Feeling the futility of his efforts, Nate took his M4 and hung it by the sling on the broken stub of a branch, and then comme
nced pulling himself up into the tree, free from the added weight of the weapon.
Hearing snarls in the darkness as the dogs advanced toward him, Nate pulled hand over hand, lifting himself into the dense, and tightly-spaced branches of the pine tree.
Working feverishly to get himself high enough into the tree to be out of reach of the pack of hungry coyotes, Nate felt the crushing jaws of a coyote clamp onto his boot. The dog immediately began thrashing from side to side, in an effort to shake his grip and bring him down from the tree. Swinging his leg and slamming the dog against the trunk of the tree, Nate’s rifle was knocked loose from its precarious perch, falling to the ground and out of his reach.
The impact against the tree forced the dog loosened its grip and it fell to the ground. Nate seized the opportunity and reached up to the next branch to pull himself higher into the tree. Just as he began to lift his body upward, he felt another set of teeth clamp onto the back of his thigh, while a second dog grabbed hold of his boot tied securely to his prosthesis.
With the weight of both dogs pulling down while they thrashed about, Nate felt his grip begin to fade, but his prosthetic leg came loose and fell to the ground, taking the dog with it.
Still feeling the crushing, tearing bite of the other coyote latched to his leg, Nate locked his elbow around a tree branch and reached for his knife, drawing it from its sheath. Slashing at the dog, Nate made contact with its face over and over, trying his best to dissuade the dog from continuing its assault.
With a yelp, the dog released its bite and fell to the ground as Nate heaved upward, pulling himself safely out of reach.
Momentarily pausing his climb to rest his shaky arms, Nate looked down with his night vision to see the wounded dog writhing around on the ground in pain. Yikes, it looks like I got that little bastard good.
After a few minutes, the rest of the pack moved in closer to the tree, only now, instead of focusing on Nate above them, they seemed to have turned their attention to their wounded pack mate.
