Going Feet First Ch. 02

She nodded, "I understand."

Giving her one last smile, he left her hiding place and returned to the camp where Petra was attempting to climb the thin trees supporting the bodies. Even with her claws they proved too slick for her to get a good grip and she dropped back down.

"Plug your ears," Galen ordered.

She turned, watching as he lifted his rifle and aimed at what looked to be a poplar with a rather prominent knot in its bark. The deafening crack of his first practice shot made her jump before she clasped both hands over her head to cover her feline ears. The soldier caught the terror in her eyes, yet he paid it little mind while making the adjustment to the scope's zero.

"What in Necela's name is that?!" she squealed, receiving no response as he took aim once again at that same spot. After another three shots and corresponding adjustments, he aimed up and drew a bead on one of the ropes wrapped around the necks of the hanging Aviens.

The first shot tore through the cord and the supported weight proved enough to make it snap. Both soldier and assassin backed up as that first body came crashing down to the forest. Bones cracked as the corpse met the ground, dozens of its feathers falling right off its partially bloated, pale skin.

Breaths struggling through his suppressed emotions, Galen had to wipe a tear away to clear his vision before he took aim at the next rope and fired to cut the woman down from the improvised gallows. When the first bullet didn't work, he fired again and that round proved to be the one to bring her back down to the forest floor. Following the next ten shots, the rest of bodies came down as well.

"So that is the thunder-stick that scared Farok so much," Petra said in wonder as he lowered the weapon.

"Yeah, it is. If you ever see me point it, make sure you cover your ears unless you wanna go deaf." He removed the partial magazine from the M14 and replaced it with a fresh one from his webbing. The mossy stock to hummed with joy at the fresh load of bullets before the Private growled, "Show some fucking respect."

The sentient growth on his weapon went quiet and he slung it over his shoulder. Without a word, he began to sort the bodies out and untwist their limbs so they could at least appear dignified. When she saw what he was doing, Petra quickly stepped in to give him a hand. Her help made moving the Aviens into one row a short task. When it was done, they covered them in the canvas from their teepees and weighed it all down with rocks.

Standing over the impromptu grave, giving the dead their moment of silence, Galen couldn't pull the anger off his face. Tears formed thin streams down his cheeks as he offered his prayers for these lost souls before he turned on his heel to walk away. After only a few steps, however, he abruptly stopped and focused in on that small doll lying beside the ruined crib.

He held out a glowing hand with his fingers curled as though to grasp the air. With both eyes shut, he focused on what Celia had taught him and channeled that magic just as he did when he had healed Michael. Use of his magic began to take a toll on his energy but his anger kept the fatigue at bay. Gritting his teeth and burning the image of the doll in his mind, it suddenly appeared in his grasp.

Opening his eyes, he caught to surprise on Petra's face at the tiny doll's appearance. Her feline eyes wide as he once again extended his arm and brought his hand to a glow. Now holding the image of the youngest Avien in his mind, he channeled that magic again only with much less difficulty than before. He had only just begun to feel the magic tax him when the doll disappeared, a new lump appearing beside the smallest body underneath the canvas.

Finally turning to the shocked Petra, the only words the Private could get past his clenched teeth were, "Let's get back to the river, then we're gonna find and kill these motherfuckers."

Raising an eyebrow at this new, vicious side of the Human, the Shadow Stalker asked, "You believe the men Necela sent us to kill are responsible for this?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I do. And if they're not, then I wanna find out who is and kill 'em."

Cracking a sly grin at his words, Petra couldn't help but think, You are just full of surprises.

..............................

Leaves scattered across the dirt as a young Avien male sprinted through the trees. Twigs crackled under his talon feet and tears streamed his face. The arrow in his right wing numbed his muscles from the shoulder down, immobilizing them with venom while his blood turned his yellow feathers red. Another arrow hit the tree in front of him and he broke right to get out of his attackers line of sight.

There was a whooping sound as one cheered him on while another called for him to slow down. He heard the whistle and ducked just before the iron head of the arrow lodged itself in his head. There was a solid "thunk" when it buried itself in the bark of a tree ahead of him. Jumping a root and ducking a branch, he caught a glimpse of his hunting camp, where his trouble horn lay to signal his people of danger.

But then came a stabbing pain shooting through his throat. An arrow lodging in his airway.

Unable to breathe, he hit the ground with his hands clawing at the shaft protruding from his neck. Flopping uncontrollably, he twisted and writhed as laughter approached him from behind.

"I 'ove it when 'hey run so fas'. 'ives me a challenge fer once!"

"Little Macka could run, I will give him that. Guess I owe you two silvers."

The heavy boot smashed down into the Avien's chest, forcing a spatter of crimson to shoot out from his mouth. He stared up at the muscular Human standing over him, a terrifying being with chestnut hair and chainmail clinking on his chest overtop his leather armor. Those maniacal, orange eyes of his stared down at him over a satanic grin as the bow in his hands creaked with the arrow he drew back.

"Night-night, kid. Ya village is nix."

The drawstring was released and his world ended with the arrow piercing through his forehead. His killer giving a hearty laugh as he gave his friend a slap on the back. "Look't 'im! Barely a man an' 'e is walkin' t'ese woods alone. Prolly saw what we did t' 'is mate, gon' t' run 'ome ta' 'is village, let'm know we're comin'."

He knelt down, taking the Avien's head in his hands. Despite the arrow lodged in the boy's head, he still decided to reap another pleasure from him by wrenching his head to one side to hear that sickening snap.

The Nekonian beside the Human chuckled, "Whether they get a warning or not, they'll know soon enough... Here," he fished around in the bag hanging off his leather girdle to produce two silver coins. The Human accepted the bit of currency, pocketing it before he pulled a coil of rope off his hip and moved over to one of the larger deciduous trees nearby.

"What say you 'his time, eh? By teh neck or by teh feet?"

"Feet," the Neko answered without hesitating.

The Human tossed the rope up over one of the thickest branches as his partner tied the other end around the dead Avien's ankles. With everything in place, the two then heaved on their makeshift hoist to slowly lift the body higher and higher until his head was waist-height off the ground. They then lashed the free end to an exposed root and took a step back to observe their work.

"Good 'nuff, the wargs'll find 'im soon anyways. Comon, Boss 'n th' boys will be wonderin' where we runned off ta."

Both the Human and the Neko turned and left the body where it hung, laughing shamelessly at the boy's fate. His dead eyes still pleading for help as the corpse swung lifelessly in the afternoon sun.

.................................

Blood red clouds hung low in the sky as the sun kissed the horizon in the west, a tired Galen yawning as he watched from the rocky bank at the top of a waterfall. The drop below him was a steep thirty or forty feet, with jagged boulders at the bottom ready to impale anything that lost its footing. After the drop the river continued in a winding and twisting pattern that cut through the trees for another mile or two. Then at the forest's edge, the waters went clean and straight westward into the Rock Lands.

In the next province over, the river poured down into a gorge a half mile wide. Flat yellow grassland, littered with hundreds of boulders and random rocky hills, flanked the massive divide on either side for countless miles. The only true limit one had on how far he could see was the curvature of the planet, or the mountain ridge to the south.

"The edge of Atzla," Celia muttered in amazement.

Pushing the great expanse ahead of him from his mind, Galen focused on the forest ahead. There were ruins somewhere down the river from here. In those ruins, the sadistic enemies of the Necela would be camped and oblivious to the massacre he was ready to bring upon them. After what Celia had revealed to him, there was no way he would let even one survive the night.

For now they needed to make camp. The trio had been on the move since dawn and even with their handful of breaks, they were all tired. Fortunately, Petra knew of a cave just downstream that was well hidden the last time she saw it. Somewhere out of the way where Celia would be safe and he could cool his still-steaming jets.

The group circled around the falls along what looked to be a caravan's path and crossed over at the bottom where there were enough rocks to keep them above the rapid waters. After another half-hour hike, they found the Neko's shelter a couple dozen yards away from the river.

The literal hole in the ground was nearly impossible to see on their approach. Had Petra not pointed it out, Galen would have walked right past it. The entrance was completely sealed off with several layers of brush and deadfall, with a wall of trees making direct access impossible. With claws and a bayonet, they cut away several vines and pieces of brush to make an entrance, and even then, the soldier had to shove his gear through first and belly crawl in.

Right away, he could taste the dry, stale air inside. This cave had been blocked off for a long time, and that was a good sign that no one else knew about it. The only downside was that the aura coming off of Celia's body was the only source of light, and it was barely enough for everyone to see each other's silhouettes. Beyond this small inconvenience, it would give Galen's companions perfect cover while he went out to do some recon.

After a quick nap, of course.

...

Roughly an hour after settling into the cave, Celia heard the soldier begin to stir. Having rested on top of him, she was quick to slide off of his chest. He mumbled an apology for disturbing her before he went to his pack and opened it up. Fishing through it, he moved a few of the internal contents aside and withdrew a long, black tube larger than the one he had retrieved previously.

Though she could not see it clearly, she figured it to also be for his weapon as its mossy body gave a pleasured hum. A sound that was swiftly followed by Galen's, "Hush-up you."

The rifle did quiet down, but it was clear it enjoyed whatever he was doing to it.

"What are you doing?" Petra asked, rising from her nap near the cave entrance.

"Puttin' a new scope on my rifle. A starlight is what we call it, let's me see at night clear as day."

"Magic?" she wondered aloud.

"No, just some real fancy technology. You two stay here, I'm goin' to go find the people we're after, and end 'em if I can."

Celia blinked at these words, barely understanding more than a handful. She whispered to Petra as Galen started putting his pack back together and the Neko relayed his direction to stay put as he left. The Elf gulped at the prospect of what was about to happen and the consequences if he didn't succeed. Despite her worries, she managed to say, "Be safe," before he crawled out from the cave.

...

After taking a moment to breathe in that fresh nighttime air, Galen began his walk back toward the river. When he got close to the splashing sounds of the flowing waters, he turned off and began moving downstream while staying in the treeline. Maintaining that perfect distance where the sound of the river proved louder than his footfalls.

For nearly an hour, Galen kept a steady pace before abrupt laughter broke out over the sounds of the night. Heart kicking up a notch, he crouched low and brought his rifle to bear, using his night-vision scope to look ahead. Roughly forty yards away, along the river bank, there was a crumbling structure made of stone and overgrown with moss and vines. It was as easily twenty yards wide and long, with no visible roof remaining.

Whole sections of the walls had fallen down to reveal portions of the interior. Through these gaps he saw a large bonfire burning in the middle of the ruin, and the stacks of baskets and goods lining the wall closest to the river. Already he could count seven men around the blaze and estimate at least a dozen more voices that he couldn't see. Several tents were set up on the opposite side of the crumbling structure, and the Private could also make out the outline of steel cages just outside to his left.

This is more than a camp; it's these fuckers' home.

Slow and easy he got down onto his belly and began to crawl toward his destination. It was then that he had noticed something odd about the trees tops above the ruins. Very odd. They looked like they had been broken in half at some point and grew new sprouts from the broken section. Many of the trees in one long swath had this splintered portion from which their thin tops grew from.

Peering through his scope, he saw how these chopped off sections progressively shallowed across the river from the ruins. Kinda looks like the scar left behind from my plane crash.

He shook his head and continued to move along the ground toward the ruins. His targets' laughter became more intense as he drew closer, his ears catching the clinking of mugs and slurred banter and drunken conversations. His brow furrowed as he tried to try and listen in, but then a branch snapped to his left. Pancaking against the ground, he turned his head in that direction and froze.

A young Human, a bit smaller and frailer than him, came patrolling through the bush. There was a shine of mail on his chest and the sheath of a rapier hanging at his side. Steeling his nerves and biting his tongue, Galen slowly exhaled as he pulled his bayonet out from its sheath and set his rifle aside.

Don't come over here, don't come over here, fuck off, please...

But the young man continued in his direction. Fingers tight around his blade, the soldier slowly pulled his knees up and closer to his chest. Digging in his toes, he readied himself to pounce at a moment's notice.

It was then that he saw a shadow scale down the tree just ahead of his target. For a second he wondered if he had been spotted, but as the boy passed the shadow, it silently leapt down upon him. Then was a thud and a jingling of mail followed by the gurgle of blood filling a throat. A muffled wail, another struggled breath, rattling of metal, and then it was done.

From the darkness, a familiar silhouette rose up from the corpse with a small grin upon its lips. A relieved sigh passed Galen's lungs and he came up into a kneeling position.

"I'm glad you never had the chance to kill me," he whispered.

Petra chuckled lowly as she took silent steps toward him, coming to a crouch in front of him as she whispered, "What is your plan?"

Picking up his rifle and laying across his lap, he explained, "I'm goin' to circle aroun' the camp to the side opposite the river. Can you stay here and keep watch? Kill anyone who tries to escape in this direction?"

"Of course," she purred. "Many of them are much into drink. Only those who wear the best armor or richest clothes have abstained from the poison, but they are all still mostly distracted. Stealth is no challenge."

The Private gave her a nod, "Alright, then let's get 'em."

Taking a step back from him, Petra turned a suddenly leapt up into the air to latch onto a tree. In seconds she scaled up its side and took a perch on a branch with her tail gently swaying behind her. Had he not seen her move, the he would have never have noticed her presence with how well she blended in.

Swallowing at how dangerous that Neko really was, Galen quickly started into a crouch-walk through the bush around the ruin. He came a few yards shy of the brush that lined the open ground around the camp and then turned left to circle the area. Rifle up, peering through his scope, he swept the area ahead of him while continually glancing toward the gathering in the middle of the ruin.

"HEEEYYYYyyyyyyy!" one of the men in the camp erupted.

Galen snapped both his muzzle and his attention toward the source of the voice to see a man greeting six new additions at the river-side entrance of their camp. Three Humans suited in heavy plate armor bowed politely to their hosts as they entered. The other three guests were instantly familiar to the watching soldier. Black plate armor, Nekonian features, red claws stitched into their loincloths... they pressed fists over their hearts before moving over to one of the darker corners of the building.

"Welcome friends!" one Human greeted as he rose from his seat, Galen shifting his sights to draw a beat on him.

Firelight shone beautifully off this Human's scarlet robe, the folds of the fabric shimmering in the glow of the bonfire as he rose from a huge, wooden chair. A thick mane of black hair was combed back to display his large, wrinkled forehead and intimidatingly dark eyes. With an unnerving smile drawing up on his clean shaven face, Galen knew he had to be the leader.

That would make the tall, brawny man with chestnut hair at his side his bodyguard. He was an easy six and a half feet tall, with a bow and quiver on his back, a coil of rope on his belt, and a hand firm and ready on the sword at his side. When his boss moved, he moved with him and never got more than arms-reach away.

Figuring now was his chance; the Private quickened his pace through the bush while giving the camp a wide berth. Doing his best not to step on any twigs or piles of leaves, he hadn't realized how close he was to the scar until he came to a patch of forest where the underbrush had become much denser. There he looked up and saw he was at the edge of where the trees had been chopped down, only here that was only a few feet above his head.

To his right were the cages he had seen earlier, but now that he was closer, he could see the bodies that occupied them. The outlines of feathers became clear to him as the persons were silhouetted by the bonfire in the ruins. If he had to hazard a guess, he likely just found the missing females from that Avien camp.

Gritting his teeth and turning away to build up his strength and courage, the Private saw something else to his right. He immediately lifted his rifle and took several glances through his starlight to make sure he wasn't hallucinating, but then he dashed toward what he discovered to be the cause of the scar in the trees.

With a bit of hesitation, he touched it just to double check that this was indeed not a dream. A bit of moss was knocked off of the aluminium body at this prodding and that served to bring a grin to his face. Glancing ahead, he saw that the entire front end was buried in the dirt to midway up the belly with a tree growing out of the cockpit. Despite what must have been a hard landing, it was still intact with the tail end hanging a good fifteen feet off the ground.

He sucked in deep and let out an excited breath and gave the B25 bomber an affectionate pat.