Hot Pursuit – Containment Protocol-Part 27
Damsel in distress. 2000 words, 10-minute read.
Nohfa’s been kidnapped. The chase is on!
The rest of the Containment Protocol saga can be found here: https://raytabler.substack.com/s/containment-protocol-serial
Part 1 (the beginning), ... Part 26 (last episode), Part 28 (The Fool’s Path)
Hot Pursuit – Containment Protocol-Part 27
By Ray Tabler
“See-van!” Lumfa raised his arms in triumph, and scooped DeWiess’s helmet up from the ground.
“I cannot believe it!” DeWiess blinked at the dice on the stone pavement, next to where the helmet had been. “That’s three sevens in a row.”
“Are the dice loaded?” Olmer asked.
“No, they are not loaded At least I don’t think they are.”
“Maybe you shoulda checked that before you gambled away the helmet and the sleeping bag Uncle Sam trusted you with. You signed for those items, you know?”
“Lum-fa hel-met.” Lumfa jammed DeWiess’s helmet down over the unruly mop of hair on his head and claimed ownership in an irritating sing song. “Lum-fa sleeeepy-bag.” He swept a hand down the fabric of the sleeping bag draped over his hairy shoulder like an olive drab toga.
“You will not bet your carbine.” Olmer held up a warning finger. “That’s an order.”
Zunta and Zoop engaged in a friendly dispute over whose turn it was next. Visions of helmets or sleepy bags of their very own danced in pale eyes. They tussled over the dice, their laughing voices bouncing odd echoes off the edges of the plaza.
“What was that?” Olmer lifted his head, attempting to sift what he thought he heard from the horseplay of the tribesmen.
“What was what?’ DeWiess asked, eager to delay the game and perhaps derail Lumfa’s run of luck.
“Sounded like the el-tee.” Whipped his head around to the archway where Booker, Muñoz, and Pinsky had disappeared. “Holy shit!”
The missing trio ran from the archway. Even at a distance, their body language screamed emergency. Olmer ran to meet them, followed a moment later by the entire startled party of tribesmen and soldiers.
“Bunzo’s snatched Nohfa!” Booker shouted hoarsely as soon as the two groups were close enough to allow his words to be heard clearly.
Muñoz called to Zunta and his companions in the local language, presumably relaying the same message as Booker had. The tribesmen skidded to a halt on moccasin-clad feet, and reversed course. They ran bac toward the swahldets. The soldiers stopped, then ran alongside their comrades as they reached them. Booker, Muñoz, and Pinsky panted, drenched in sweat from the sprint.
“What happened?” Olmer asked as he caught up to Booker.
“Ralna showed us Bunzo and three of his buddies abducting Nohfa. Said it just happened.” Muñoz wheezed, not breaking stride.
Olmer, and the other dismounted scouts wondered who the hell Ralna was, but decided that didn’t matter at the moment. The important thing was that the traitorous witch doctor had snatched a friend. Get her back first. Everything else could be sorted out later.
Because they knew what they were doing, and because they’d reacted more quickly to the news, the tribesmen had their swahldets saddled before the soldiers. Zunta barked an order at Krilno. Then Zunta, Zoop, and Lumfa tore off down the desolate boulevard in the direction of Nohfa’s last known whereabouts. Krilno stayed behind, hurrying the soldiers in the task of frantically throwing saddles and tack onto their swahldets and snugging them down.
Quicker than Booker expected, but not nearly fast enough to satisfy him, the party was ready to go. Krilno spurred his mount after Zunta, Zoop, and Lumfa. The statues watched them hustle off, impassive to the drama.
As they approached the black-paved cross street, where Nohfa had been left, her abandoned swahldet crooned piteously. The beast lumbered up to Krilno in the lead, scattering debris from Nohfa’s abandoned camp about her feet. Krilno leaned low from his saddle, and snatched up the dangling reins. Apparently happy to be directed again, Nohfa’s swahldet trotted along, trumpeting happily. Some of the other beasts returned the call, the only ones happy about circumstances.
Presently, the riders reached the edge of the dead city, not pausing but hurrying into the surrounding sandy wastes. Krilno pointed ahead to two distant dust clouds. The nearer was obviously the advance party of pursuers, riding hard. Beyond, almost at the horizon, Bunzo and his henchmen bore Nohfa away.
The gait of a swahldet is a rolling one, resembling a boat on a choppy sea. The beasts the soldiers rode weren’t sprinting. That would’ve tired them out too fast. But they were moving at a rapid pace. Booker and his men clung to their saddles, constantly in danger of being shaken off. They strung out in a long line, sorting themselves by speed and stamina.
Perhaps an hour later, a single swahldet and rider appeared out of the late-afternoon haze ahead, headed toward them. Eventually, Booker discerned that it was Zunta. Booker and Muñoz reigned in as Zunta and Krilno spoke in a terse exchange. The swahldets panted, grateful for the rest, however brief it might be.
Muñoz translated. “Bunzo is still ahead of them. He fouled the water at the oasis. We won’t be able to water our mounts there. He did that on purpose. It’ll slow us down. Zunta came back to tell us to swing wide around the oasis. Otherwise, the swahldets will smell the water and we won’t be able to keep them away from it. Then they’ll get sick, maybe die. Lumfa’s charged ahead and drank his fill. Then, promptly died. Now, he and Zoop are riding double. Which will slow us down even more.”
“Crap!” Booker spat.
“Yeah. Looks like Bunzo planned this all out ahead of time. He laid a false trail back at the tree fort, then doubled back onto our tail. Probably had his buddies waiting too.”
“What are we gonna do?” Booker looked at Zunta, who spoke directly to Muñoz.
“He wants us to keep following. As it is, Bunzo will get back to Bedrock ahead of us. Zunta’s gonna take some kind of shortcut. Still won’t beat Bunzo back. But it’ll be faster than the normal path.”
“Why aren’t we all going that way then?”
“He says it’s dangerous. It’s called the fool’s way.”
Zunta pointed. Booker’s eyes followed the caveman’s outstretched arm to gaze up a mountain. Smoke rose from its peak in a towering black column. The ground rumbled, making his swahldet dance nervously sideways a few feet. Distant lava flows oozed from rents and glowing chasms on its flanks.
“The fool’s path...” Booker swallowed.
“I’ll say.” Pinsky muttered.
“I’m going with him.” Booker declared.
Muñoz blinked at him. “You sure that’s such a great idea?”
“No, it isn’t. In fact, it’s probably the worst idea I’ve had in a long time.” Booker looked Muñoz, the Zunta square in the eye. “But I’m going with him.”
Zunta didn’t speak English, but he read Booker’s face and body language. He broke into as savage grin and clapped the lieutenant on the shoulder with prehistoric gusto. Laughing, Zunta replied, then turned to Krilno, taking care of hasty details.
Muñoz chuckled. “He said you and him will be fools together. And he called you brother.”
“I hope this won’t involve cutting my hand and comingling blood.”
“Me neither. I’m coming too.”
“Not in your job description there, Mr. Muñoz.”
Muñoz shrugged. “I’m thinking of quitting anyway. Besides, how are you and Zunta supposed to understand each other? Speak slowly and loudly?”
“Olmer!” Booker called.
“Yes sir!”
“You hear all of that?”
“I did.”
“Good. Take the radio.” Booker handed over the set. It’s my plan, assuming we survive the detour, to get inside Bedrock and bring the platoon out again. Then we’ll head for the gate site, and back home.”
“Like the sound of that, sir. Home.”
“Me too, believe me. Now, we don’t know what the situation is gonna be inside Bedrock proper. So, things might get kinetic during our exfil. Your objective is to get Pinsky to the gate site.”
“Pinsky, sir?”
“Yes, Pinsky. We saw some serious shit under the mountain. Pinsky recorded, and witnessed it too. If Mr. Muñoz and I don’t make it, it is imperative that Pinsky and his recordings get back to base. National security level priority.”
“Global security priority.” Muñoz interjected.
“Don’t confuse the man, Muñoz. It’s complicated enough already.”
Olmer bounced his eyes between Booker and Muñoz. “Yes sir. Pinsky and his pictures have to get back home. Period.”
“Good man, Olmer. Now, can you spare any ammo and grenades?”
It took a few more minutes to sort things out. Zunta and Krilno spoke a bit more, then clasped hands and wished each other well. Or, failing that, a beautiful death.
Without much more than a quick glance at Booker and Muñoz, Zunta spurred his swahldet into motion toward the distant volcano. The two soldiers followed, a bit awkwardly, being relatively new to riding domesticated dinos. Within a few hundred yards they’d caught up with Zunta, and paced him, all three swahldets panting with the effort and lack of water.
Krilno shouted and gestured the rest of the group onto the path after his companions, and ultimately Bunzo. The effort opened up the head wound the witch doctor had inflicted. Fresh blood seeped out from under the gauze wrapped about his head. Krilno ignored that. He had more important matter to concentrate on than a bit of blood.
Pinsky’s eyes grew round, realizing his new top-secret status. “Oh man!”
“Pinsky my man, what the hell happened up that tunnel?” DeWiess asked.
“Well, we talked with this big, alien dude, named Ralna. At least, I think he’s a dude.”
“Freaky.”
Booker watched the smoking, rumbling mountain grow slowly nearer, around Zunta’s determined silhouette. “I got the feeling you wanted to say more to our friend Ralna back there.”
Muñoz grimaced. “Some of the things he said don’t add up.”
“Such as?”
“Supposedly, these gods can wall off our universe from the others. But they don’t know how to turn off the mechanism, or whatever you call it, that’s been throwing roadblocks in the way of our going home? Or, at least turn it down some? Doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe they did know at some point, but forgot.”
“How do you forget something like that?”
Booker shrugged. “You saw that city. It’s a ghost town. Ralna and company look to me like a species in decline. Remembers some things. Forgot others.”
“That could be. Doesn’t give me warm fuzzies, being the experimental plaything of a dying race. Wonder how many of them are left.”
“For all we know, Ralna’s the last one. That might explain why he can’t make the environment stop keeping us from going home, but still can work trans dimensional technology just fine. Maybe that’s his area of expertise, and running the habitat isn’t.”
Zunta called over his shoulder.
“He wants to know why we’re talking about Ralna?”
“Has he met him too?” Booker asked.
“No. he says Ralna is the trickster god in their pantheon. Infamous for luring brave warriors to perilous quests.”
Booker looked at Muñoz. “Seriously? Think I could’ve done without hearing that.”
“You and me both.”
Zunta slowed to a stop. They’d reached the edge of a vast, cooled lava field. He spoke.
“Says to follow as close to his swahldet’s footsteps as we can. If he falls through into hot lava, go around him and continue the mission. Save Nohfa.”
“Falls through”’ Booker glanced at the evil-looking black landscape ahead.
“That’s what he said.”
A minor earthquake rumbled the ground below their swahldets’ feet. A section of slope in the mid-distance collapsed, avalanching in a cloud of gray and black grit, The ruddy glow of molten lava glinted from a ten-foot-wide hole exposed by the small landslide.
“Has he done this before?”
“Does it matter, under the circumstances.?”
“I guess not.”
The sun was setting, painting the sky the same shade of lurid red and nearby lakes of molten lava. Zunta urged his mount into the black, sharp-edged tumble of the solidified lava field. Booker and Muñoz followed.
END.
Tune in next time for Part 28-The Fool’s Path
The rest of the Containment Protocol saga can be found here: https://raytabler.substack.com/s/containment-protocol-serial
Part 1 (the beginning), ... Part 26 (last episode), Part 28 (The Fool’s Path)
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The wild fun continues! Nothing like a chase on dinosaurs through a lava field to add a little excitement!