Going Feet First Ch. 01

Their leader bounced back as his four men fell to the ground, one screaming in agony as blood surged through his armor. Without hesitation, Galen brought the barrel of his rifle up to the wounded cat's head, flipped the selector to "semi," and gave one last pull of the trigger. He winced as the thirty caliber round hollowed out the cat's brain pan in a disgusting mess. His stomach shifting uncomfortably as he had to kick some of the spatter off his boots.

Fighting the feeling threatening to empty his gut out again, Galen shifted his focus back to the leader of the men that had attacked him. Only the space he had once occupied was now empty. The bipedal feline had already turned to flee back to wherever he had come from in a hurry. Swearing under his breath, the private turned to Michael with a questioning look.

"Don't let that bastard escape!" the sergeant ordered.

With a nod and a swift "yessir," Galen shouldered his rifle and lined up the shot. The weapon gave a deafening crack as it fired, and the cat creature pirouetted as his shoulder burst open from the high powered round. It wasn't the head as he intended but at least it gave him a prisoner to interrogate and figure out what the fuck he had landed himself into.

When the cat-man hit the dirt, Galen pulled a bayonet from his belt and fixed the six and a half inch blade to the end of his rifle. Aside from the intimidation factor it would bring, he was not willing to take any chances of another of these creatures pouncing on him as he ran after his newfound foe.

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

The Neko woman watched in total awe as the human ran after that fallen Ra'zorlich pack leader. He had, by himself, just slain four fighting men of a Ra'zorlich hunting pack. They were no mere tribesmen who trained for battle when they came of age. The Ra'zorlichs were violently reclusive, training themselves from birth to be ready to fight and die for their lands. They never left their home, and those who dared to come in rarely left alive.

The fact that the humans still drew breath -and drew it in victory- sent chills down her spine.

But this momentary reprieve in the fighting would not last long. More would come, and unless she and the humans wished to join those whose remains fertilized the Ra'zorlich victory garden, they had to leave. Her own tribe had peaceful terms with the human lands; she could bring them to safety and her people could return them to wherever they had come from.

With the swift agility allowed by her feline body, she leaped down from her tree and landed just a few feet short of the wounded Michael. In an instant, he pulled an axe from his belt and drew his arm back to throw. Only he didn't. His hand wavered slightly and his eyes drew wide when he realized he was facing down a female neko.

"I mean no harm, human. I have come to help," she stated in a low voice, defensively raising her hands while searching around for any Ra'zorlichs that may have come toward the thunder.

"Stay back, woman!" he threatened, though from the tone of his voice it was unclear whether there was any credibility to his words.

"I am not here to hurt you! I wish to bring you to safety! To help!"

Michael stared at her a moment, his weapon still ready to be thrown in an instant. While she made no hostile moves, he quickly glanced to the other five bodies around him, all of which were of the same race as her. There was no reason for her not to attack and to try and take his life yet she was keeping her distance. It left the sergeant debating with himself whether or not to throw his tomahawk and end her.

He needed help, between his equipment and his leg he knew he wasn't getting out of this alone. And something about this woman... something about her churned up his chest, softening his grip on the weapon in his hand. He couldn't put a finger on it the reason why but he couldn't suppress it either.

Emptying his lungs and returning his tomahawk to his belt, the paratrooper grabbed onto the rifle beside him and made sure the safety was off. With his weapon serving as a brace, he managed to sit himself up to properly face her.

"What's your name?" he asked, wincing from the pain in his leg.

"Mila, a tracker of the Willher tribe. What is yours?"

"Michael. You know how to dress a wound, Mila?"

To his relief, she gave an immediate nod. "I do, Michael. But I have not the herbs or wraps to help."

"Then use this." The sergeant set his rifle aside and pulled his field medical kit from his webbing to toss in her direction. When she caught the first-aid kit in her hands, he opened the holster on his hip and laid the pistol on his lap. However, Mila didn't even acknowledge the firearm as she inspected the package he gave her. Either she knew that he wouldn't kill her, or she didn't know what he had readied in his grasp.

If it was the latter, then that lack of knowledge would seriously bother Michael. If she didn't know what a gun was, then how many creatures or men out here didn't either? Just how many would be killed going against a weapon they knew nothing about?

Mila stared at the object that had been tossed to her, wondering what exactly it was until she felt something move inside. Figuring it to be a container of sorts, she extended her claws and tore open one end and barely caught the contents that spilled out. Half the items that she now fumbled with in one hand were completely alien to her. A white packet, soft padding, green wraps, a metal needle attached to a glass bulb.

Her tribe had extensive medical knowledge but some of these things she had never seen before aside from the obvious white wrapping. No matter, it would all serve a purpose in bandaging his wound. She knelt down beside the soldier and tore away the remnants of the pant leg to get a better idea of what she was dealing with. Seeing how everything was covered in dried blood, she knew she would have to clean him up first.

"Have you any water, Michael?" she asked.

"I do," he answered, pulling a canteen off his hip. He twisted the lid to open it up and took a quick swig before passing it off to her. Utilizing what was left of his pant leg, she washed off the open gash that ran deep into his muscle and wiped away what blood she could before more started to fill the wound. From the fact that he was still alive and wasn't gushing, it appeared that nothing important had been damaged.

Picking up the white packet that came with the first-aid kit, Michael ordered, "Dump this stuff into there, it helps."

The neko took what appeared to be a pack of white parchment and fumbled with her wet hands to tear it open. Finally using her claws, she sliced off one side and dumped the contents into the wound before covering it up with the soft padding. From there she started wrapping it all up with enough pressure to seal it without cutting off the blood supply like his tourniquet had.

"What the kinda creatures are you?" Michael asked as he winced at the tightness with which she wound his bandage.

"I am a neko," she answered.

"Neko?"

"Yes. Cat people, as you humans simplify."

The sergeant frowned, his lips tightening up as he examined her features. Her fur, her ears, her tail, all the features that differed between her kind and homo-sapiens. Which given from what he could see before him now, wasn't a whole lot. She had hands with opposable thumbs, two arms, two legs, and two rather attractive breasts on her chest. Height-wise, she couldn't have been much taller than him but from his sitting position, trying to accurately guess her height wouldn't be possible.

Her face had a few somewhat cat-like features to it, with the carnivorous fangs that lined her mouth and a coat of fur covering her body. But unlike a true feline, she had no whiskers, and her nose and lips were very much human. As her hands moved around his thigh, Michael could feel how incredibly soft her fur was. Kind of like a young kitten, and yet she had that long, flowing grace of beautiful, reddish brown hair just like that of a human.

Michael was pulled from his moment of admiration as Mila tugged on the bandage to tighten up the knot. He grimaced and after checking over her work, his impromptu nurse gave a nod and used a claw to slice off his tourniquet. The blood rushed back into his leg and he gritted his teeth to keep himself from howling. But to the Neko's credit, he didn't feel too light-headed or start bleeding through his bandage.

"That will do," she said, lifting her head to face him. "We must collect your friend and leave this area, quickly."

Rubbing his thigh, the sergeant wondered, "Yeah... where is Galen?"

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

The Ra'zorlich warrior was lying back against a tree with the blade fixed to the end of the thundering stick of death prodding at his throat. Thoughts of grabbing the weapon and simply impaling himself crossed his mind at that point, as it would certainly end the suffering of his obliterated shoulder. It would also end the shame of him falling to a single, pathetic human. What respect would his warriors hold for him if they knew their leader had been beaten by an inferior parasite such as this?

Then again, his shoulder told a different tale, as did the rest of his pack whose corpses lay not too far away.

"Why'd you attack me?" the human demanded, the tip of his weapon poking the underside of his chin.

Grimacing as he shifted his position, his wounded side going numb as his arm still refused to move, the Ra'zorlich growled with what ferocity he could manage with his blood-loss. "You are in our land, human. A hundred years, we told your kind that these woods are forbidden to you. A hundred years, we have slain the trespassers. Now, you dare ask me why I strike?"

He frowned as he looked to the trees around him, uncertainty crossing his face before he shook his head. Firming up his grip on the thunder-stick, he said, "Listen Cat, I don't got any idea where the Hell I am, or who the Hell you people are. I just came here for my friend, next thing I know, you an' your kind are pickin' a fight and tryin' to kill us. Now if you can just point me to the nearest radio, I'll be happy to get out of here, and never come back."

"What on Necela's moon is a radio?" the warrior asked before he quirked his head at the human's reaction.

Galen's brow raised with a worried look drawing upon his face. After all this time he spent wondering if he was still in Vietnam, he finally has his first contact and it turns out to be a non-human enemy. If that hadn't been bad enough, the creature did in fact speak his language, but it didn't know what a radio was. And worse yet, he didn't even seem to know what the US army was. This whole situation was going from bad to worse in a hurry.

I'm not in Vietnam. Hell, this might not even be Earth...So where the fuck am I?

Galen slowly began taking steps in retreat from the warrior to where he had come from. Glancing over his shoulder to ensure he didn't trip, he stepped through a bush while keeping his aim fixed on his foe's forehead. Wounded or not, he didn't know what they were capable of and he wasn't letting his guard down unless there was some distance between them.

"I'm gettin' out of here," he explained once he was at least seven yards away. "If you or any other cats come after me, you'll be dead before your claws leave those pretty little hands. I fuckin' mean it."

"We are not cats, human. We are neko. And if you return again, I shall see that you pay dearly for this day," the Ra'zorlich warrior swore grabbing hold of his wounded shoulder to get pressure on his wound.

This provoked an uncertain look from the soldier as he tapped his finger against the trigger of his rifle, debating whether or not to pull it. Scanning quickly to his left and right, he spotted several shadows shifting in some of the far-off trees in the waning daylight. Looking to the dusk sky and the first hints of appearing stars, he realized how close it was getting to nighttime. If he didn't high-tail it back to where he came from and get out of actual hostile territory, the beasts were sure to get him.

Right then a branch snapped off in the direction of where the closest clearing had been. Almost immediately after that came a pack of voices growling at each other to be quiet. While not anywhere being stealthy, those growls were still effective in the sense of letting the soldier realize just how outnumbered he was. And he doubted he had enough ammo in his magazine for all of them.

"My people come, human," the Neko warned with a toothy smile full of sharp teeth. "Run or we will feast upon your bones."

Galen didn't waste another moment. He turned on his heel and sprinted full speed back to where Michael had landed. This was probably his only chance to do so as the Nekos would likely be on him in seconds, if not minutes. Twigs and branches snapped underfoot as he ran, bushes were trampled and trees were dodged. As he bounded over a shrub to get back to his sergeant's small clearing, the sight of another Neko made him bring his rifle up as he landed and dropped into a kneeling firing position.

"Private, stop!"

Galen swapped his target toward the voice, freezing as he found himself drawing a bead on Michael.

"Put that weapon down, soldier!"

His hand was off the trigger the second the order registered in his mind. What did not register, however, was the neko that had the sergeant hanging in a fireman's carry over its shoulders. He- she? She wasn't wearing armor or carrying weapons and from what the private could see, there wasn't any identifying claw symbol anywhere on her body.

"What the Hell---?"

"Galen, this is Mila. She's here to help! Now get on your feet and let's go!"

There was no time to ask questions as Mila and Michael were already moving back up the hill to where he had come from. It was probably the fastest way out of the hostile territory, which meant that was his-

PING!

Galen was caught off guard as an arrow glanced off of the side of his helmet, the stone tip shattering while barely scratching the steel. Without missing a beat, the soldier turned and brought a neko archer in blue armor into his sights. As the anthropomorphic feline was reloading his bow, he let out his breath and gave the trigger a squeeze. With a bullet tearing clean through his breastplate, the neko was thrown off its feet with both legs kicking into the air. Lowering his weapon and seeing those shadows moving in, the soldier scrambled to his feet and took off in pursuit of his sergeant and their new friend.

With his fleeing of the pursuing nekos, all sorts growls and yelling in a foreign language erupted behind him. Glancing over his shoulder he spotted fresh pack of neko warriors breaking from cover to charge him with their claws out and a thirst for blood boiling in their eyes. If even one caught up to him, or got past his rifle, he knew he was a dead man.

Setting his weapon to full-auto he spun around and took up as steady of a stance as he could. His M14 braced against his side, he pointed the muzzle in the general direction of the closest enemy and gritted his teeth for what came next. The muzzle blast of his weapon lit the area around him as a four-round burst tore through the body of a charging Ra'zorlich and nearly knocked the soldier off his feet.

When the solid thud of the beast hitting the ground registered in his ears, he switched his rifle to semi and looked up. Another cat creature was closing fast so he snapped his rifle up to his shoulder and drew it into his sights. As it started skidding to a stop, it eyes wide with terror, he pulled the trigger. And all he heard was a soft click of the trigger failing to drop his weapon's captive hammer.

In that moment, Private Martin could feel his heart stop. Lowering his battle rifle slightly revealed that his bolt was locked open to show the hollow interior of his magazine. In his excitement with the automatic fire he had expended all twenty of his available rounds.

"Galen!" Michael yelled, "Come on, let's go!"

The world raced through the private's mind in an instant. His rifle was empty, Michael was wounded, and the sun had finally set on both this land and possibly his life. Once these creatures tore through him, the sergeant and Mila would come next if he couldn't buy them the time to escape. There were two of them and only one of him so the decision wasn't that hard.

His heart started beating again, and it was pounding in his ears as he shouted, "Go! I'll hold them back!"

As his words came from his mouth, the rest of the pack closed in on him. He could have turned and ran but at this distance they could just pounce on his back. Even in armor they moved much faster than he could so retreat was completely out of the question. The only thing standing between him and death right now was the six and half inch knife fixed to the end of his rifle.

"Let go of me!" Michael yelled. "You fucking bitch, let go!"

Galen glanced over his shoulder and saw the sergeant fighting Mila's grasp as she locked him down tighter over her shoulders. She had one hand holding onto his wrists and the other gripping his uninjured leg to keep him immobilized as she hauled him out of the area. The private gave him a farewell grin, and Michael's face sank into one of denial. He tried once again to get away from his rescuer, but in the end he was completely helpless to do anything but watch as the young trooper was encircled by the group of Ra'zorlichs.

His hands going numb with terror, Galen faced the nekos in front of him and readied himself to fight to the bitter end. Only the four directly to his front parted ways as another approached the circle they'd all formed.

"You are brave to stand and face us, human," growled the new arrival, his golden blonde fur easily identifiable in these final minutes of daylight.

Natural, black lines ran down from the officer's glowing, orange eyes, descending his face right to the collar of his black, plate armor. Like his men he wore no helmet to cover his slightly lighter hair atop his head that was smoothed back over his scalp down to his nape. There was no doubt in Galen's mind that this neko was an officer, judging from the silver bands that wrapped around his shoulder plates.

Flexing his clawed hand over the pommel of the sword at his side, he continued, "Few have ever stood to fight alone willingly against the might of the Ra'zorlich warriors."

A bead of sweat ran down Galen's leg, going past his knee into his quivering boots. "I... I'm not lettin' you bastards kill my friend."

With his nose flaring, the officer simpered over a unnerving grin. "I smell your fear, human."

This made the private swallow hard to force down the lump threatening to choke him out. Hoping the darkness would conceal his movement, he slowly began to fish into his ammo pouches to pull out a fresh magazine and reload his weapon. Only the action did not go unnoticed by the neko leader.

"Is your thunder-stick finished, human?"

"You wanna find out?!" Galen snapped, leaving the magazine in its pouch as he aimed his empty weapon at the leader's head.

At once, the warriors growled and were about to step in, but their leader roared and growled out orders in their own tongue. He then glared at Galen, one side of his mouth coming up into a snarl. "Tell me human, why have you invaded our land? Slain our men?"

"Listen, bud, I didn't know where the Hell I was until about a couple minutes ago," Galen answered truthfully, firming up his tone of voice to make him sound more confident than he actually was. "I just came t'get my friend and get us both outta here. I didn' want ta fight anyone, I only defended myself. If I had come here for war, then we wouldn't be talkin' right now."