Chapter 7
The Cults
In the chopper, Karl saw the greenish spot which appeared from the thick white mist. He looked at his side, Tyler fell asleep, peacefully. Karl tapped his shoulder. Tyler opened his eyes, still drowsy, and looked at Karl.
“Don’t see a thing,” complained Toby. “There are lots of mists…”
Karl’s eyes got sharpened at the thick smoke ahead of the chopper; the orange light was looming from afar. He went up to the front window, looked through his binocular.
“We have to land soon,” said Karl.
“What? No! We have to go near river, we are in the middle of nowhere!” said Toby, pointing at the map. The white dusts diffused into the air.
“Land the fucking thing,” growled Karl.
“What? I’ve been saving the…” murmured Toby, but he was interrupted by the orange flare coming toward them.
“RPG! RPG!!!” bellowed Toby.
“Duck the fuck down!” shouted Karl. Toby swung the helicopter, it plunged down, and the rocket hit the tail. The chopper vibrated intensely, Tyler was in the air and bashed on the wall along with other stuff.
“Got hit! Got hit!” shouted Toby. Tyler started screaming. The helicopter span through the clouds and mists and they now are seeing the greenish island. From the dizzying height, the white waves broke against the rock like galloping horses.
They crashed on the trees, the wood cracked and walloped. The blade of the helicopter moved violently, shredding the branches.
After a while, Tyler heard the bird chirping. Something was grabbing him. It was warm. He looked up and saw Karl covering him, his blood dripped down to Tyler’s head. Tyler’s eyes become wide and shook.
“Karl? Karl!” shouted Tyler.
“Shut up,” groaned Karl, spitting on the floor, his tooth came out. He cracked his body, grunting with pain.
“Are… Are you alright?” murmured Tyler, his voice shook.
“Do you think I’m alright? My fucking tooth came out.” he grabbed his nose and adjusted, it made a bone cracking sound. He yelled with rage. Tyler tried to help him get up.
“Get away, get away,” said Karl, pushing off Tyler. Tyler looked at him and laughed weakly, relieved.
“We better hurry,” said Karl, try to open the door but it was stuck. Karl started kicking the door to open. Karl groaned as it didn’t move. He gripped the rifle and shot the door, he kicked it again and it fell to the ground. The body of the helicopter shook, slid a little from the tree. Tyler flinched, grabbing the handle; he was soaked with sweat.
“Hey pilot!” bellowed Karl. “Are you alright?”
But there was no answer, the mist was still thick, Karl was worried that whoever attacked them will come to plunder.
“Get out of the chopper,” said Karl to Tyler. Tyler nodded; he grabbed the branch and hopped to the trees. Karl went to Toby but he didn’t move. He checked the pulse in silence, and sighed. He put his hand on Toby’s shoulder.
“Good bye buddy,” he murmured and grabbed the backpack and threw rifle to Tyler; he caught it in the air.
“What about…” said Tyler.
“He’s dead,” said Karl.
“I… I’m sorry,” said Tyler.
“… Keep your eyes open,” said Karl.
Tyler gulped and nodded. They came down the trees. Karl went down, stooped low; they moved quickly toward the bushes. Karl and Tyler entered the forest and walked on the sunken lane. The shadows approached them. But they were men coming toward them among the bushes. They froze on the spot.
“I’ll cover you,” whispered Karl, grabbing Tyler’s shoulder. “Run there,” he said, pointing on the side.
Tyler was scared to death. Karl reached from his pocket and pulled out the grenade, and pulled out the pin.
“Now!” he hissed.
Tyler ran toward the trees, the man shouted and shot at the trees. Karl threw the grenade at them and fired the machine gun.
At that time, in other parts of the island, the hatch was open. Sharine and Kevin peeked outside. They walked around the forest for some times. Through the mists, leaves and branches, they traveled. The ray of the sun came down from the broken clouds.
After a while, they heard some noise in a distance, drumming of some sort, they listened and went near.
There were people dancing. They seemed like natives, have cut up the head of the creatures and made an idol, and had feast and played harlots. They had large piercing on their bodies like ancient tribes and danced, doing sacrifices and eating the men they captured. The skinny little old ladies were aside, standing on the piles of skeletons, and spread the ashes toward the people. What it seemed like a tribal leader was yelling at people, muttering of some sort with a huge golden plate. Sharine and Kevin stared at them from afar.
“I can smell it from here,” muttered Sharine, grabbing her rifle. “That filthy smell of rotten flesh…”
“What are they doing?” muttered Kevin, holding his machine gun. Sharine didn’t answer, her stomach coiled. The people were going frenzy, the drum became louder. They let out weird shrieking and screaming, both men and women, old and young alike.
“We are outnumbered, we have to go around,” said Sharine, frowning. Kevin nodded.
“Do you know where we going?” asked Kevin. “Because I’m not sure where they might have been.”
“We need to follow the railroad track, what it seems to be recent?” said Sharine.
“Bad idea,” muttered Kevin. “Normally Ricky moved to confuse the trackers, go round and round in a long way. And we will have to track them at least fifty miles radius.”
“Do you know the pattern?” asked Sharine.
“No, not really.”
“Do you have any idea why they left?”
“They do this in the time of emergency; I think Seth told me in the past. Although he slurred the speech so we didn’t really get it…” said Kevin, scratching his head, trying to remember. “Yeah… No… Umm...”
Sharine punched him. Kevin screamed and fell down, grabbing his nose. Her wounded arm still ached; the bone was still in its recovery. It gave the dull disturbing sense.
“That’s for acting stupid,” hissed Sharine. “You are lucky to have me, you dumbass!”
Sharine still had herbs, which Glock gave. She tore up the bandage and put the herbs on her wound, wrapping it around the arm tightly. The searing pain came from her scratched bone. She made a muffed sound filled with agony. Kevin looked at her and helped her to tie up the bandage. Her sweat drenched from her forehead.
“How… How many grenades do we have?” said Sharine, breathing heavily.
“…Seven,” sniffed Kevin, bleeding from his nose.
“Lucky number,” Sharine picked up the sniper rifle on one hand, cocking it, and headed toward the cults.
“Wait! Where, where are we going?” shouted Kevin.
“We are going for the spoils,” said Sharine. “Cover me partner.”