Path of Their Own Ch. 01

"Calm down there, Hero," Flak said, almost growling. "You can stop that gung-ho, ready-to-throw-your-life-away bullshit right now. We're not in 'Nam, and there isn't ten more assholes behind you ready to take your place if you get cut down. We're on our own out here, so ease that shit off."

As those words escaped his lips, the sky lit up with a blinding light as several tons of steel and aluminum materialized from nothing. In a roar of dying engines, a Hercules C-130 flew overhead spewing a thick plume of black smoke in its wake as it headed eastward and straight toward the ground.

Petra immediately dropped on all fours, eyes wide and claws digging into the dirt, her fur fluffing out like a house cat. Arms started squeezing the life from Galen's chest as Celia hugged onto him with a death grip. The horses hooked up to the wagon whinnied and trotted in place as if they were trying to run. The only thing that kept the beasts from doing so was the calmness forced upon them by Felyn, and when she had them settled, the Drow then moved her eyes to the beast overhead and focused.

She could sense the people onboard, she could feel their terror as they drew closer to the ground. Oddly enough, she couldn't sense anything from the beast they rode on. Not terror, or anger, not even pain though it was unleashing a roar far louder than any monster she had ever heard.

Smoke rolling off his lips from his mouth, Flak muttered, "Son of a bitch."

Right then a pair of fighter jets flew by overhead. One of them slowed down to make the other pass it before the watching soldiers could hear its engines flare up again. The second jet, now several thousand feet ahead of it, banked right to turn around and face the other head-on. Then the telltale sound of a missile firing caught the troops' ears. The warhead was fired low but it was correcting its trajectory to head for what they realized to be an American jet that answered with a long burst of its cannons.

What the two soldiers figured to be a Vietnamese plane burst into flame. Something exploded and a wing flew off as it plummeted to the surface. But that missile it fired was still on track and flying straight for the American fighter.

"Goddammit, NO!" Flak erupted as Galen stared in awe.

The heat-seeker homed in on its target, the craft pulling to the right before lightning flashed. A phantom bolt appeared from nowhere to careen through the missile and into the belly of the surviving plane.

Then as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone. No parts, no wreckage, just gone.

Staring at what was now empty sky, the group stood blank-faced and dumbfounded as the Vietnamese jet hit the ground and sent a fireball into the air. Though he didn't realize it, Galen's heart was pounding in his chest, his left hand quaking as badly as it ever had. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he looked to Flak.

"Maybe... maybe that was the lightnin' that brought us here. Maybe it took that plane back home?"

Nostrils flaring as his breath drew hot and heavy, the Staff-Sergeant put his pipe in his mouth and sucked in deep. With a bestial growl he breathed out a thick cloud and turned to the Private.

"God-willing. Let's get moving. That bird was one of ours so we have to secure the crash site and see if there's anyone that's still alive."

"What in the Abyss was that 'Bird?'" Felyn questioned, looking to the two Humans while suppressing her awe from creeping onto her face.

"C-130 Hercules," Flak answered, moving to their wagon and grabbing his boots and socks out the back. "Big fucking plane meant for hauling tons of cargo over long distances. Now do you know the fastest way to get out of this fucking canyon?"

The Drow nodded. "Fastest way would be following that 'Hercules' and taking the main road east toward the mouth of the Trench. The path cut out in the wall would take us to the plains above."

Slipping his feet into his boots and tightening up the laces, Flak tied a quick knot and said, "Good. Let's move out."

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

Kicking up a cloud of dust behind him, Galen's wagon jostled him around in the driver's seat as the horses pulling it were galloping up the cliff-side path at the end of the canyon. Thinking back to the last time he had been here, the Private looked to the ruins of the tower that once stood overlooking this path down into the Sundered Trench. He recalled the sight of it being torn down by Dreek in her mission to save him from Redding's guards when he had pursued Pretayus into their territory.

Now there was scaffolding erected around the salvaged foundation and men were working to rebuild it.

Galen slowly exhaled as he thought of everything that had happened since then. Since he came to Raska. He glanced to Flak sitting beside him with shotgun in hand and a scowl focused on the road ahead. Where he was welcomed to Raska by a quick fight and an Elven banquet and orgy, the Staff-Sergeant had been greeted with nearly drowning in a river and spending a week in a stockade. Yet somehow their paths had collided the night before last, and now they were off on a quest of Galen's own design.

Given the presence of all-powerful beings on this world, he had to wonder if this fate of theirs was truly random, or if there was some other power at work. Be it Necela, her sisters, or someone else. But such a question was something to ponder at a later time.

Ahead of him was the border checkpoint where Redding kept a posting of troops to guard the path down into the Trench, and the five men ahead moved to position themselves across the road to block the incoming wagon. With the way that plane had come down, neither Galen nor Flak wanted to stop and risk losing any survivors of the crash. One of them raised a hand in an attempt to signal Galen to stop but Flak stood up in his seat and waved them off. In a powerful, commanding voice, he yelled, "Get out of the way! Emergency situation!"

The guards didn't move, but the two archers with them nocked arrows onto their bowstrings. The distance between them and Galen's wagon was closing fast and it was doubtful that they'd miss.

"Fucking move!" Flak yelled.

When the archers raised their bows, the Staff-Sergeant shouldered his shotgun and fired. The blast of buckshot sent a cloud of dirt spraying into the leader's face as the pellets pelted the metal plates protecting his shins. While the shot did nothing, the gun-blast was enough to send panic into the men. As the wagon came charging up, they dove out of the way and it drove right past them without slowing.

Racking the pump on his weapon, Flak dropped back into his seat and hit the weapon's safety. The border guards were yelling behind them but without mounts it would take time before they could catch up. He glanced to his side, catching the Private sigh and tighten his grip up on the horses' reins.

"Thanks for not killin' 'em," he said in a solemn voice. "Been too much of that lately."

"Yeah, there has," Flak agreed, laying the weapon across his lap. "But reality is that we're running out of shells and I wasn't wasting them on those guys. And considering the way you shoot, you're probably running out of ammo as well. Pray this Herc has bullets, kid. Or your quest to rescue Elven damsels is going to get a lot more difficult."

...

Less than a few hundred yards ahead of them was the wreckage of the C-130, which was sitting roughly two hundred yards shy of the edge of Atzla Forest. Squinting and utilizing the supernatural enhancement to his vision, Galen couldn't spot anything in the way of movement around the area. The plane was somewhat in better shape than the one he had come in on—neither of its wings had broken off—but just like his had been, this one was riddled with bullet holes and was leaking fuel. Panels that had ripped off of its belly were scattered all along the scar it tore open in the ground. Unlike his plane, the entire tail section was broken off and standing straight up roughly fifty feet behind the craft.

"Best we try not to start fires around the Herc," Galen said, looking to Flak. "Fuel's leakin' all over."

The Staff-Sergeant glanced at the Private with a cocked eyebrow as if he wondered how he had seen that from the distance they were at. Nonetheless he made note and turned to the back of the wagon.

"You three hear that? No fire around the plane or you'll blow it all to Hell."

Though Flak couldn't see it, Petra shuddered and nearly let a tear slip from her eyes. Her skin crawled as she remembered exactly what had happened the last time she went near a beast like this "Hercules."

"Understood," Felyn answered, looking questioningly at the Neko as she sensed her distress. "I suppose you have experience with this monster?"

The Shadow Stalker nodded while doing her best to steady her breathing. "Galen came to our world on one. The circumstances at the time had me seeking to end his life, and as I sought to do so, I came across the monster with my apprentice. She triggered a trap, and the following explosion reduced her body to charred bones."

Felyn's eyebrows rose as she felt the Neko's pain and horror radiate from her heart. It was enough to make the Drow's skin prickle. Nodding and returning to silence, she let the feline be while pushing to her what calm feelings she could. It was a service she also provided for the Tree Elf with them as she stayed huddled in the corner of the wagon closest to the driver. With the yelling and the blast, the girl was terrified and not understanding the language did not help.

Soon enough the wagon started to slow as Galen called for the horses to "woah." The moment they were stopped, the two soldiers hopped off while Felyn and Petra climbed out the back. At Galen's request, Celia remained behind and waited as the others went to secure the wreck. The quartet followed behind Flak as he led them to the back of the C-130. When they came to the section where the tail had sheared off, the Staff-Sergeant boosted the Private into the plane before Petra did the same for him. The Neko then stayed at the hole with Felyn, the two keeping watch as neither felt very inclined the venture inside the Earth-monster.

Once he had climbed in, Flak had moved straight to the cockpit while Galen made a sweep of the cargo area and pulled tarps off of whatever this flight was loaded with. Several pallets loaded with crates of varying sizes were packed for a fast drop into a firebase. Pulling the tarp off one of the larger pieces of cargo had his breath catching in his throat.

Anchored down to the floor of the cargo area was a M151 Jeep, complete with spare fuel cans on the back. Patting the hood, Galen thanked his good graces before he moved on to the plane's emergency parachutes. Seeing the readied packs, the paratrooper gave a grin and lit his arm with magic to store them away for future use.

"You find out what these guys were carrying? The crew didn't make it," Flak called from up front as Galen came around from the back of the craft.

"Looks like these guys were doin' a supply drop. There's some unmarked crates on the pallets here, but the ones that are marked say they have food, supplies, ammo, weapons. There's a Jeep here, too, and some boxes marked classified."

"Classified?" Flak echoed.

"Yeah. Two whole pallets are marked like that."

The Marine came around to check what Galen was looking at. His eyes narrowed at the red letters noting the confidential nature of the mystery cargo. For a moment he thought about respecting the secrecy of what was aboard but given their current situation, classified didn't mean jack shit.

"Nobody is here to bust us, Private. Crack 'em open."

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

"You have been quiet since your city," Petra said, trying to break the silence between her and the Drow at her side as they stared across the prairie toward the trench where they had emerged.

"I hadn't a subject to speak on," Felyn replied, her expression and voice placid.

"Not even when we asked you a reason for your sudden insistence on coming along?" The Neko peered out the corner of her eye at the hooded Elf beside her. "You weren't among the Elves with us in Redding, so I can't understand your wish to join him now."

"I worked with him in the preparation for the raid, but I was wounded the night prior," the Empath answered while drawing a hand to her stomach as if tracing an old wound. "Severely. I hadn't woken until your party returned and Galen healed the damage."

"Still doesn't answer why you chose to join us." Petra turned her gaze back to the plains while asking in a serious tone. "Do you plan to kill him?"

"No!" Felyn burst out, a bit too sudden and defensive.

The Shadow Stalker turned and cocked an eyebrow at her with her tail twitching back and forth behind her. It took most of what the Empath had to not look in the direction of the Neko, to avoid eye contact and establish a connection through her power that might endanger either of them. Breathing deeply, Felyn managed to calm her flaring emotion and spoke softly while staring at her feet.

"I wish him no harm. I came to learn from him as he is... different from other people in a way that makes him a challenge to my ability. In return for my assistance, he agreed to be partner to me in practice."

"Ability?" Petra asked with her tail now batting at her calves as her ears lifted attentively.

Felyn nodded. "I am what is called an 'Empath.' We can feel and control the emotions of others, and to some extent their mind. But I'm still too young and weak to do a tenth of what my Commandant can, so I came here with Galen to practice it without endangering my sisters and to live on the surface for a time as is required by my sisterhood."

Petra rubbed her chin, nodding as she recalled how her own order required recruits to wander Atzla for a time. "How does your power work?"

"I meet one's eyes," the Drow admitted while still staring at her armored boots. "Other Empaths are different, but me... without eye contact, my power doesn't connect. Or at least doesn't connect completely. I can sense the hearts of those close to me if I am focused."

"So that is why you won't look at us," the assassin inferred, looking back out to the Prairie. "You don't want to control what we feel."

"Partly, but also..." Felyn hesitated explaining her weakness so plainly, then decided of any of the group besides Galen, the stalker would be the better ally and it could avoid trouble if one besides the younger soldier knew. "Also because I don't want to let what you feel overwhelm me. I nearly died and killed Galen once, when we first captured him, because his heart proved too strong for my power. It is not something I wish to repeat."

At that moment, Petra's eyes narrowed, squinting as though she was focusing on something far off. "How about them? Would you look them in the eye?"

Felyn followed the Neko's gaze to the line of figures riding out from the Sundered Trench and turning in their direction. Six at least all mounted on horses going full gallop. In an instant she loathed Flak for his brash use of his "Shotgun." Galen even more so for not simply killing them when the threat was present of something like this happening.

"Petra!" squealed the oddly accented voice of the other Elf.

Ah, yes. That dead weight the Human is so infatuated with.

After climbing out of the wagon, the green-haired Elf came running to the Drow and Neko while pointing to the incoming riders. While she likely couldn't help in a fight, it was good to know she could at least keep watch and identify a possible threat. That gave her some value beyond being Galen's fuck-meat, at least until she learned to swing a blade or throw fire.

Untying the string which secured her sword in its sheath, Felyn closed her eyes and mentally sighed. It was never a dull day when Galen was around.

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

A broad grin crept onto Flak's face as he stared down into a crate Galen had opened up. The boxes upon boxes of ammunition laying before him were of every kind he could ever need. 7.62 mm, 5.56 mm, .45 ACP, 12 gauge shotgun shells. But that was just the beginning. The selection started growing more unusual the deeper they went. The Staff-Sergeant leaned in on several boxes marked with 9 mm, and others that weren't marked at all save for the word, "Classified."

"What is this, Sergeant?" Galen asked, lifting one of the boxes.

He opened the package and pulled a bullet out, showing it to Flak who scrutinized it. The Marine took the cartridge and rolled it around in his hand while nodding with familiarity. Without a word he returned it to its box before taking the whole thing from the Private and returning it where it had come from before closing the crate.

"That was AK-47 ammo, 7.62 by 39 millimeter," he said, ignoring Galen's surprise as he looked to the rest of the boxes in the plane. His brow furrowed in contemplation as he tapped his fingers on the treasure they had just discovered. "That trick of yours, to store shit in magic land, will it work for all of this?"

"I can see if it can," Galen said with no degree of confidence as he looked to the other crates. "There's a lot here."

Patting this first ammo crate, Flak ordered, "Start here then, I'm going to start moving the bodies outside for burial."

As the Private struck his hand into a bright glow to prepare to store the ammo, a shrill cry outside made both him and Flak turn at once.

"Petra!"

The two looked to each other, and as the Marine unslung his Ithaca-37 off his back, Galen held out his hand. Blinking into existence was his M14 rifle, falling right into his grasp with its walnut stock still overgrown with a thin layer of dark, green moss. It was one of the damnedest things Flak had seen so far about the kid. The only part of the weapon that wasn't smothered in the plant was a long strip on the entire length of the right side. There it had been torn off to reveal remarkably flawless wood underneath.

Then there was the spongy sling that replaced its original one. Galen had claimed it to be an improvement, and upon testing, Flak did find it noticeably comfier on his shoulder. Still, what was essentially mold shouldn't have been able to develop on the gun. Not with the oils and chemicals it was treated with to prevent such a thing.

Pulling his train of thought away from Galen's weapon, Flak watched as he summoned the near-empty satchel of shotgun shells in his free hand and tossed them to him. He then followed the Private to the open end of the plane and searched for the source of the cry. Right away they spotted Celia running for the plane while pointing toward the Trench. Following her arm they saw a line of cavalry riding toward them at full speed.

"Sergeant, we stirred up a hornet's nest," Galen warned.

"Is that something you can't handle?" Flak inquired, standing at his back and squinting to see the approaching riders.

Quickly counting, the paratrooper just shook his head. "No, there's only seven."

"Then handle them," was the order that followed as the Marine turned back toward the plane. "I'll continue moving the bodies."

"Yes, Sir," Galen answered before he leapt down to the ground, landing beside Petra and Felyn as Celia came running up to them.

"Galen, see Redding men come?" she asked while huffing lightly from her short sprint.

Her speaking the Human tongue caught the three of them by surprise. Especially Petra as she had never heard a single word of the language escape the Elf's mouth. Hearing a complete sentence, broken as it was, was definitely a good sign that she wasn't staying ignorant of the group's common language for long.

With a proud smirk on his face, Galen nodded and replied in kind, though he slowed down and spoke carefully. "I do. I'll deal with them. Just stand by me."