WilliamDArand
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The Dead Story: Chapter 5
🕑 Added 2017-09-12 01:24:40 +0000 UTC Camp that night was a quiet thing, a meal of rations, a watch rotation decided, and bedrolls laid out. Ridley deliberately ignored Recruit Anson as he was moderately sure by now she was suffering from an acute case of puppy love. Debating it only for a minute or two he couldn’t deny she was attractive. Nor that it had been a few weeks since his last dalliance. The point that he wasn’t planning on staying anyways almost led him off into the woods with her. Sure beyond a doubt she wouldn’t say no he was sorely tempted. Deserting was one thing, having his way with a Recruit and then deserting was another.With any luck he planned to be on his way to the Breaker Mountains while Ubel Lew’s corpse cooled. With a smile at the thought of Lord Lew’s lifeless eyes staring at him he let himself drift off into sleep. Dreams of both Recruit Anson and the death of Lord Lew ended with the coming of the sun.
The following day went without incident or excitement. Moving along down the road towards the wall without anything out of the ordinary. Regan remained silent after yesterday’s conversation clearly ended with his irritation.
With the sun moving towards the western sky Regan had them start into the trees to the side of the road to begin looking for a suitable camp site. Not more than forty paces from the road they found a narrow clearing that led to a hillock. Trees and boulders dotted the hilltop and promised nothing but an ugly climb to any who would dare. Two recruits and Sergeant Miller cleared a small fissure in the hill side before bedrolls were laid out and a fire made.
Ridley’s plan was honestly fairly simple. Wait till the dead of night, make to go like he had to use the restroom, and never return. While the bedroll was nice he could squirrel away on his person but that. With that in mind Ridley acted as if nothing were amiss and conducted himself as he normally did. He tried not to look at Anson, attempted to make small talk with Regan, and pretended Miller didn’t exist.
Eventually everyone turned in for the night except for the watch for the evening. Ridley would be first watch, with Miller on last and Regan splitting the middle. One recruit would also be awake for each watch, more for the experience, than any real sake of security.
It was with some trepidation that he realized when she walked up to him that somehow Anson had managed to get people to shift watches with her till she was on Ridley’s.
“I’m ready Sergeant Norwood.” Those clear blue eyes had an anger in them and a dare. Apparently Ridley had been obvious in his attempt to discourage her or at least treat her neutrally. Suddenly her words took on several meanings and he had to align his thoughts into a safe and correct environment.
“I know you are Bridgit. I never thought you weren’t. I just never believed I was. Were you on watch last night Recruit Anson?” It was an admission on his part but only on himself.
“I….” She started once and then was silent. Clearly she had no expected to actually be answered. “No. This is my first time.” Her hands flexed at her sides and one hand drifted up to pull at her short cropped hair before returning to her side.
“Well, standard protocol is to walk the perimeter and ascertain that all is well. The fire is no longer needed either since the night isn’t that cool this far south of the capital. We’ll pull out the fire, wait for our eyes to adjust, walk the perimeter, then take up watch.”
Ridley began going about exactly what he had just stated using an entrenching tool to start piling dirt onto the fire. Careful not to spread the coals but to cover them up.
“That’ll put out the fire but won’t the coals burn away underneath?” Bridgit asked as she started shoveling dirt as well.
Irony wasn’t lost on Ridley as he nodded to her comment. “More than probable. The lack of oxygen will definitely extinguish the flames but it’ll be a little before the coals themselves cool or become inert. Some people do exactly this to stay warm at night. They dig a hole, burn some logs, then cover up the coals after spreading them out and then sleeping on the dirt above it.”
“Sounds risky.”
“What in life isn’t? Now,” replied Ridley. “let’s see about getting our eyes adjust and begin our perimeter.”
It was in the quiet silence that Ridley noticed it. Overwhelming silence ruled the night. There were no insects, no predators in the distance, nothing. Nerves singing for him to act he had to fight to hold still. Bridgit hadn’t noticed it and he didn’t plan on alarming her if it was nothing. Everything seemed to stop suddenly as his mind clarified the situation and the crossroads he was at. This was actually an idea situation. If his hunch was right, and he was damn near positive, than Shadows would be descending on the camp soon and ripping everyone limb from limb and hopefully leaving no one alive. It was the perfect cover for a man who wanted time to slip away and set up an ambush and make his way to the mountains afterwards.
In the periphery of his view he could see Bridgit watching him, Regan and Miller sleeping unaware, and five other recruits who would have no chance. Nothing moved, the world had stopped in its rotation, and the cosmos themselves peered down upon Ridley Norwood. We are not born for ourselves. The thought caressed his mind with a gentle motherly touch and left him without thought.
In the end it was Bridgit’s clear and trusting eyes watching him. Frozen in their abject hero-worship. Hadn’t he looked to someone with a similar regard? Did not that man’s action set him upon the very road he trod? Revenge could be dealt out later.
“Did Sergeant Gaines cover camp security regarding Shadows yet?” He queried while making a concerted effort to remain unperturbed as he walked over to Regan.
“Yes. Just last week in fact. No fresh kills, no fresh meat, nothing that will hold the scent of blood. Any and all first aid must be done away from camp and all materials used burned immediately.” Bridgit seemed like she was reciting notes she had taken but it was reassuring that everyone had covered it to that degree. Pushing his boot tip into Regan’s side he quietly scanned the surroundings. His right hand he kept out of sight of Bridgit but would be visible to Regan. It was a simple gesture but one that most would understand immediately. Hand flat and upwards in the, “Wait” position.
“Very good Recruit Anson. As far as I know, every recruit learns roughly the same thing at the same time. Which means everyone here should know Shadow security.” There was a quiet shifting below him and he glanced down. Regan was awake and the sergeants large eyes seemed darker than the night around them. “Please wake the recruits one by one Recruit Anson and ask them if they conducted proper protocol would you? Be swift about it mind you, but don’t panic them.”
Nodding he gestured around at the night that held no sound other than theirs. It was not common nor the norm. This part of the countryside was always alive with insects. “I could be wrong, but I’m betting we’ll have company soon.” Without another word Ridley walked over to Miller. Despising a man wasn’t enough to deprive himself of the man’s sword arm. Nudging him with the tip of his boot Miller came to. Ridley gave him a moment to focus. “We may very well have Shadows inbound. I have Recruit Anson asking if any of the other recruits broke Shadow protocol.”
“Shadow protocol?” That one question sent Ridley’s stomach into the bottom of his feet.
“Quickly, did you kill or dress an animal? Did you hurt yourself in such a way to cause yourself to bleed?” Ridley’s hand closed on the hilt of his sword and let his eyes play around the tree line for a moment and then caught Regan’s eye and nodded even as he asked Miller.
In response Miller held up his palm. It was bandaged around the fleshy part of the hand and clearly blood had seeped into it. “I stumbled when I relieved myself just after we set up camp. It’s just a scratch.”
“Stupid fool you’ve doomed yourself if not all of us.” Ridley lifted his head and called out to the others. “Regan, Anson! Circle everyone up and draw steel.” Regan and both Bridgit nodded with a salute and set to. “Shadows come for blood. Is this your first time out? Is it your god damned first assignment? Have you even seen something that wants nothing more than to lick the blood from your still pumping heart? The more blood the more they want it. This’ll be a fucking nightmare to remember. Get in the circle, idiot.” Ridley kicked the man once as he vented and went to the circle that was forming.
Rannulf himself must have been out that night and had convinced his sister Ernsta to join him for no sooner did Miller reach the circle than he tried to impale Regan through the chest. Running high on adrenaline his aim was poor and it skewered Regan through the upper portion of his chest, right into the shoulder of his right arm. Turning and fleeing into the darkness Miller disappeared.
“Damn you Miller. DAMN YOU! I’LL KILL YOU!” Ridley yelled at the fleeing man’s back and then retrieved his pack and ripped open the medical kit he carried. Regan was already on the ground, blood pumping from the wound. He wasn’t the best at medical but he knew there was an artery up in the armpit but he didn’t know how close it ran to the surface near the shoulder. Pulling the top off a vial he splashed the enhanced herbal water on the wound. In his rush to get the top off he managed to shatter the damn thing and his hands became a bleeding mess as well now. Before he could do more for Regan there was a scream and his face was splattered with hot red blood as he turned his head to see what had just happened.
Bridgit crumpled to the ground before him even as another recruit stepped in to take the Shadows head from its shoulders. Bridgit’s throat was torn open and her blood poured out fast into the soil. Ridley’s hands were coated in and dripping with his own blood as well as Regan’s as he tried to keep hold of the vial while shifting around to Bridgt. He turned the vial bottoms up and dumped the whole thing into Bridgt’s open bloody throat. Tossing the bloody vial away he pressed his hand into Regan’s wound.
Having seen a number of cut throats in the pit he felt like she could pull through with a little luck and some more time with the medical kit. Airway clean, breathing, blood flow steady but not the geyser it was before he upended a few hundred coins worth of water into her.
“Warren, take everyone and make for the road, start pounding your way northwards and don’t stop till dawn. Sleep during the day, keep making your way north and finish the job. We’ll hole up and head back to camp once day breaks. Don’t argue please, I can’t protect you all but I think I can take care of these two. Go. NOW!”
Without waiting to see if he would be obeyed he threw Regan over his shoulder in a carry and grabbed Bridgit by her wrists to drag her and made for the fissure Miller had cleared earlier. The space itself wasn’t very large, perhaps 8 feet at its widest and only 6 feet deep with an entry way that was only wide enough for one to enter. He let go of Bridgit to duck inside and lay out Regan before he dragged Bridgit inside. Running back outside he was happy to see all of the recruits were gone, having taken all their gear except bedrolls. Snatching up the four remaining packs he ran back to the small cleft.
Dropping all four packs between the two patients he pulled out another two vials and dumped one in each of them. Grimacing he realized his own blood was running freely into every vial he touched and could only hope it wouldn’t dilute it too much.
“Stop the bleeding, pressure to stop the bleeding. Seal it so it can heal with and pressure.” With a sigh he wrapped his hand around Bridgit’s throat and gently squeezed at the sides having made a seal with his palm. He kept repeating the mantra in his head as he pulled Regan’s uniform down exposing the length of the wound. The blade had slide along the rib cage and lodged up in the shoulder. Grunting Regan tried to help with his left arm pulling at what he thought was an under shirt until the entirety of his upper chest was bare.
Ridley paused for a moment with the realization Regan was a woman and then lightly placed his hand into her wound. Regan’s first name was Tara which he simply took as a cultural difference. Tara Regan was actually a woman who wore a chest binding and her first name fit a lot better with that frame of thought. With a little retrospection it made sense to bind her chest as it would assuredly allow her freer movement.
Taking a moment he looked over at his other patient. Bridgit looked fairly out of it and couldn’t blame her. She suffered what would definitely be a fatal wound in her first outing. Her eyes were looking at him but only barely focused. Military grade medical supplies were the only thing that kept her alive thus far. His fingers were curled around her pale neck and he couldn’t remain that way for much longer. That first shadow had been a lot closer than he thought but he hoped it’d be a minute or three before the next one got here. It would stop at the camp site and that’d give him a few precious seconds too.
“Tara.” He looked to the quiet Sunless on at his side. Her eyes snapped up to his at his use of her first name and he grimaced. “Keep a sharp eye out there if you can? I’m afraid I’m entertaining two young women and won’t be able to greet our guests with a warm handshake when he arrives. I’ll need a warning if possible.”
Those large black eyes blinked and then she chuckled softly. She said nothing but tilted her head with a pained countenance and looked out into the night outside the cave.
One blessed minute ticked by before Tara said something. Her voice was light and she was clearly in pain but tried to color it a little bit with comedy. “Our guest has arrived.” Ridley was caught off guard as to offset his nerves he had been chanting a mantra of wishing them healthy, hale, and well in his mind.
Stifling a laugh Ridley pulled his hand from Tara’s torso and then slowly let go of Bridgt’s neck. Those blue eyes had never left his face and remained just slightly out of focus. Her throat was covered in blood and looked a lot like raw meat but he could do nothing more right now. Wiping his hands on his chest he walked to the entrance and faced the camp while drawing his sword.
The shadow had apparently stopped to lick the ground of the spilled blood. They were not known for being extraordinary thinkers, perhaps just barely above a predator. Its head swiveled his way and it stood even as it started running at him. Long arms were set in a bulbous body on spindly legs. From head to toe it was an inky black in color, the texture similar to the bark of a log but the substance no different than normal flesh. There were no eyes, just empty sockets, a mouth with black teeth, and a tongue.
It closed the distance immediately and swiped razor sharp claws long than a man’s hand at Ridley. Black claws flew wide and away when they severed themselves on the edge of Ridley’s upraised sword. Shadows didn’t feel pain nor bleed and would just keep coming until the head was removed, sunlight touched them, or dumped into water. Even as it crippled one hand it pulled back the other to strike again.
Ridley took the things arm at the elbow and then kicked it in the middle of its chest sending it flying back out of the entrance. There were seven more shadows standing there watching the entrance, waiting for a chance to get at Ridley. They wouldn’t work in concert, thank the gods, but would attack each other as swiftly over food as they would for the meal. If they had packed together like a mob they probably could have just forced Ridley back and taken them all.
Taking a step back Ridley prepared himself and waited for the next one. Now all he had to do was hold his ground till dawn. Laughing at his own thoughts Ridley smiled grimly at the Shadows. “They’re not accepting visitors tonight. Come back tomorrow, eh?”
The only response he got was a hiss from a Shadow towards another that got too close. Then the one in front moved to engage him and the night continued. In the end it wasn’t a glorious last stand action from a story book, he didn’t carve them into chunks, send them running, or any of that fairy tale silliness. He aimed for a standstill and fought to keep one in front of him as long as he could. Shadows did not tire but maiming one would certainly slow it down. Provided the ones in the back kept themselves busy. Eventually one of the reward Shadows would grow bold, slay the one in front of Ridley, and take its place. Only to be cut down by another only to take its turn at the entry.
As the false dawn came and the Shadows started to panic he feared they would try to crowd into the small hollow with him. The fear became unfounded as the Shadows sprinted off into the tree line. Ridley sunk to his knees, his sword falling free from his numb fingers as he laid his palms to the ground.
Grass tickled his forehead and Ridley could only wonder when he laid down. Taking deliberate breaths he drifted gently along in his own consciousness. Despite it being morning he was so very cold, his mind wanted desperately for him to treat his own wounds, but his body wouldn’t co-operate and his focus was long since gone. Darkness closed in around the edges of his vision until finally all was the abyss, and his mind fled.
Comments
William D. Arand
Oh the story is definitely there. I just had no idea what I was doing :)
Trav3lingman
The Dead Story is for sure very rough. But imo has potential to be reworked into something better. The MC has a viable starting background. My 2 cents anyway.
Dwight Brown
We’ll pull(put?) out the fire
