Chapter 3
Chapter 3
In the next few minutes my life changed, now considering how I was currently kidnapped, chained up in the dark with a guy calmly talking about murdering our captors, that should give you a clue as to how eye opening those minutes turned out to be. The things that came into that room were not people, or to be more precise were not people anymore. The wet slapping sound of their feet grew louder, and with a rapidity that surprised me, how anyone could move in this darkness was beyond me, let alone at that kind of speed.
Now, I’ve been in some shit in my time, not as bad some to be sure, but I’ve always been able to keep my head in serious situations. But I’m not ashamed to say that when three or for of these things rushed me, sniffing, feeling, grabbing at me, I lost my composure. I flailed, kicked, growled, and just barely avoided sobbing like little kid with a skinned knee. My kicks were met with groans and snarls that sounded inhuman, and all around me these things smelled like death. Their fingers were cold, and hard, and sharp, and while I heard them sniffing the air and me, I never once felt an exhale.
From the deep bellowing protests, expletives, and rattling of chains I figured Miles found himself in a similar situation as me. A louder screech from my companion’s side of the room clued me in that he was probably dishing out more punishment than I was. The rush of limbs, and prods and pokes ended as suddenly as it began. In the quiet that followed I could make out a gentle clink and drag, it would appear another had joined our plight.
“Busy fucks.” Miles grunted across the room.
“What the hell were those things?”
“Trust me kid, you wouldn’t believe me, and if you did you wouldn’t want to know.”
“MIles, I’m tied up, I can’t see shit, and apparently I’m staring down the prospect of being eaten. Try me.”
“Speaking of, you alright kid? I think one of the fuckers took a chunk out of my arm.”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“Figures, guess they don’t like the white meat.”
“Am I allowed to laugh at that? And you still haven’t answered my question, what the fuck were those things?”
“Yeah kid, you’re allowed to laugh, and I’m not being an ass. You really don’t want to know, most people don’t, shit sometimes I wish I didn’t know about it.”
“Spare me the ‘you’re protecting me’ speech Miles, I’m not buying it, and I swear to god if the next answer out of your mouth involves evil midget clowns I’m gonna find a way out of these chains and throat punch you.”
“Jesus kid, did you have to bring up midget clowns? That’s not a laughing matter. But fine, you’re right, guess it can’t hurt. It’s a pack of wights, me and my charter have been tracking them for a week or so now.”
“Wights? Did you just try to feed me some Game of Thrones bullshit?”
“Game of what? No, no bullshit kid, it’s what we’re dealing with, take it or not. I mean, I guess you could come out of this thinking we were taken by some cannibalistic pygmies that live in the suburbs of Seattle, whatever helps you sleep at night.”
“Alright, assuming you’re not crazy, how do we kill these things? Set them on fire?”
“Why in all that is holy would you take an angry pack of tough as nails killing machines and set them on fire? Do you just like to make situations even more horrible?”
“Fine. Point taken. What are our options?”
“Iron or silver, right into the skull, only way they stay down.”
“You going to explain why that makes any fucking sense at all?”
“Hey kid, you asked, you can either bitch about it or accept it for now, not exactly the time and place for a history lesson.”
This guy had to be crazy right, I mean he was talking about things out of a fantasy novel, or a bad TV show. Then again, let’s look at the facts as I knew them. I was chained up in a cave somewhere, there was definitely something off against the people or things that had just come rushing through the room, and let’s be honest, the cannibalistic pygmy theory was about as crazy as the undead monster theory. Of course there was another couple of options, one being that I had gone insane, and the other that I’d been drugged. A bad acid trip definitely sounded like the best case scenario right now, but my mind was too clear.
My musings into the nature of my current mental state were rudely interrupted by a sound that was all too familiar. Rifle fire. It came in short ordered bursts which spoke of good trigger discipline and aimed shots over suppressive fire. The lack of groans and screams of the wounded afterword may have been the most disturbing part of the affair so far. A few more short engagements occurred, getting closer to the chamber we were being held in, when suddenly the world exploded into a burst of flash lights which did a wonderful job of blinding my fully dialated eyes.
“Took you guys long enough.” I could hear Miles say over the general din of motion.
“Oh stow it Miles.” A woman’s voice responded, “You’re lucky there are civies here, otherwise we would have just left you.”
“Missed you too darlin’.”
“Lock it up.” The speaker’s voice rang with a sense of command, “Sarge cut them free, Doc check them for any major damage, I want to be moving in five.”
“Rog---what the hell, who the fuck gave these assholes actual chains? This might take some doing Cap.”
My eyes had begun to refocus by then and I could make out my surroundings. There was Miles across the way, chained up like I was, a woman in tac gear was looking at his bound wrists, a look of frustration upon her face. Another, shall we say large fellow hung limply from his own set of manacles to my left, he was being looked at by a well built guy in similar gear as the woman, he was obviously checking for injuries. Finally near what looked to be a tunnel leading out of the chamber knelt a third man in tactical, his rifle trained down the tunnel.
“How long?” The man near the entrance asked.
“Workin’ on it.” The woman answered, she had retrieved a set of tools from somewhere and was working at the lock on Mile’s wirst, the deep shadows from the flash lights made it difficult to tell if her look was one of concentration or rage.
“Damn, this feller’s dead Cap.” The man inspecting the heavy set guy those things had brought in a few minute before spoke with a slight southern drawl.
“Shit, check the other one.”
“I’m fine sir, think your man Miles got bit earlier though.”
“No fussin’ now son, let me have a look at ya.” A sudden sense of calm came over me, this ordered assessment, and efficient treatment of problems relaxed me. This was familiar, even if I had just been told i’d been taken by flesh eating undead monsters.
“What’s your name son?” The man inspecting my injuries asked, working in a calm calculated manner that spoke of long experience under high pressure.
“John.”
“Well don’t you worry John, we’re gonna get you outta this mess, get you back to your family.”
“Oh stop coddling the kid Doc.” Miles spoke, approaching them both, obviously freed from his constraints, “He knows what’s up, whether he believes any of it is up for debate.
“Makes more sense than pygmies.” Miles let out a chuckle.
“Yeah kid, it makes more sense than pygmies.”
The woman who had helped Miles out of his chains was now unceremoniously working on my own. She was beautiful, stark raven hair, pulled tightly into a neat bun, copper tan skin, and striking semi oval eyes that were hauntingly green, an oddity with her darker complexion. That said all question as to if her look was one of concentration or barely contained rage was ripped from contemplation, a fire burned there, hot as a furnace, and far more dangerous.
“You keep fucking staring at me, and I’ll leave you for the wights.”
I coughed. Smooth John, real smooth.
A few moments later I heard a satisfying click and a rush of relief as the manacles popped open. My arms ached fiercely as I tried to stretch them out. I looked around the room again, finally able to take it all in, and found the source of the rotting smell. One of my captor’s previous guests arms still hung from the chains, though the body’s flesh was mostly gone, and lay crumpled on the cave floor. I’d like to point out that my pride held back my body’s need to retch for at least twenty seconds, maybe more. A gentle hand patted me on the back as I emptied my stomach contents in a corner.
“Alright son, gonna need you to keep it together for a few.” Doc’s voice was calm and soothing, and I managed a nod and a grunt of compliance.
“Shit kid. That ain’t your first body is it? Fucking POGs man, swear to God.” Miles gave a mocking laugh.
“You will not.”
“Aw shit Doc, sorry.”
“Take that POG shit and shove it Miles, not my first body, but that fucker was ‘eaten’.”
“Yeah that’s kind wha---” Miles was cut off by the man they called Cap’s command.
“Enough.” Cap turned his head slightly regarding us, the woman had taken up a position next to him covering the tunnel entrance, “We get the civilian clear, then circle back and clear this cave. We move in five, Miles arm up, John was it? You stay between me and Sarge here.” He gestured to the woman next to him.
“Keep your head down, and keep moving and we’ll get you out here just fine.”
“Sir, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to help with these things.”
“Listen, I appreciate that, and I gather you served from the way you talk, but I don’t fucking know you, and this isn’t some training op, I can’t be worrying about you holding your own when shit goes bad.” Cap’s answer was harsh, but without any kind of malice behind it, I got it, and looking at him I knew there was no convincing him otherwise.
“Roger that.” I won’t lie, I was a little dejected, but hey, it made sense.
“Alright people, let’s move.” Cap started forward with the confidence of someone who knew his team would be right behind him.
Doc followed immediately behind him, the woman they called Sarge looked like she would take up the rear, and Miles tapped me on the shoulder.
“Here kid, in case the shit finds us before we get out.” He was holding out a Berreta which I took with a thankful nod, “Aim for the head, and don’t fucking shoot one of us yeah?” He grinned and moved out without another word, I followed him a few paces behind.