Page 37 of Scar

I will not talk…

They all lost weight, becoming emaciated and weak from the lack of nutrients, sunlight, and exercise.

One day, Little Tyke managed to slip his hand out of the cuff above his head manacling him to the ceiling. It was heart stopping, watching him try to slip his other hand. None of his missing digits were his thumbs, making the feat all the harder.

A terrorist came into the manmade cave within seconds of Tyke slipping his second hand free. Whether he heard something or was entering for another reason would forever remain a mystery. Before he could shout a warning to the others, Little Tyke bolted across the cave and ran into the man. He tumbled back, smacking his turbaned head on the rocky cave wall.

Blood smeared a path down to the floor where the man lay, unmoving. Tyke grabbed for the man’s weapons. Before standing, he bunched up the tail of the man’s black turban, creating a makeshift muffler as Tyke shot the man in the head.

Tyke stumbled to his feet, gasping for breath. No doubt the adrenaline burst he’d just had was already waning and his missing toes made his balance tentative at best.

The lower half of Farmboy’s face and his chest were coated in blood from his tongue being cut from his mouth. But the man was still able to make sounds. The grunts and whimpers he emitted sounded encouraging as Tyke fought his way over to him, a key in his three-fingered hand. As Farmboy was the closest to where Tyke was, it made sense to go to him first. There was a good chance Tyke would not have been able to make it to Julian, even though Julian appeared the strongest. He was weak from starvation but he’d been the least beaten and his body had not been mutilated as his brothers’ had been.

Between Farmboy and Little Tyke, they were able to get Cajun down too. Farmboy had the handgun Tyke had taken from the dead Taliban member trained on the opening in the cave as a weak Cajun and Tyke stumbled over to release Julian from his chains.

His arms screamed in protest as they fell, gravity taking him completely to the ground. He gave himself a single second to feel the pain before he pushed it aside. They had to get out of these caves.

Julian forced himself up, his entire body a flaming ball of agony. Tyke started to go over but Cajun managed to keep him upright. The two threw an arm around each other’s shoulders and leaned on his brother to get himself to move forward. Julian had an immediate flashback of SOT and working as a single entity to accomplish a goal.

It had always been the one place where Julian struggled. He didn’tleanon anyone well. But his brothers needed him as much as he needed them. His prideful need to handle thingssolowas no longer existent.

Together the four of them stripped the terrorist of his remaining supplies. When a water bottle was discovered, they shared the contents equally.

All of them stared mutely at the decomposing bodies of their brothers. The realistic fact that they had no choice but to leave their fallen behind sickened each and every one of them. Julian didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that. It might be the Rangers who dubbed “no man left behind”, but it was true of any soldier.

But they couldn’t take them. For one, their bodies were too decomposed. There was a good chance they’d fall apart. For another, it would be a test of the four Delta Force soldiers’ endurance to getthemselvesout.

Tyke reached for Julian’s arm. “We come back for them.” His young eyes blazed with confidence, his voice raspy and low. “Promise me, we are coming back for them.”

Julian nodded once. That was one promise he wouldneverbreak.

As one, they journeyed from the cave for the first time in an unknown amount of time. Farmboy kept the handgun while Julian claimed the AK-47 rifle. The bottoms of his feet burned on the hard, ungiving floor of the cave, his knees threatening to give out with each step.

They did not have a map or a hint of the direction of an exit. The mouth of the cave opened to a single long cavern. Left or right was anyone’s guess. Julian looked to Cajun, hoping for a sign from the man as to which way to go. But the Louisianan man just shook his head and shrugged.

Julian did a mental coin toss and turned right. Without the lights from their prison, the cave soon fell into darkness.

The Taliban member Tyke had killed had not had a flashlight or any light source on him. It made Julian wonder how the man had navigated the cave’s tunnels.

They walked for what seemed like hours before the hint of light appeared ahead of them. Cautiously, they continued forward. The maze of tunnels they’d walked had not given them any reason to believe they were heading towards the exit, but it also hadn’t felt like they were heading deeper into the cave.

The glow didn’t appear to be from sunlight, but Julian also had to shield his eyes from the brightness after walking in the dark for so long.

He turned the corner, trying to keep the rifle level and knowing he was failing. Why was the weapon so fucking heavy?

The scene before him did not make sense to him upon first sight and it was that shock that cost him precious seconds.

They were back at the mouth of their cave prison. It was the same one they’d been kept in since captivity…and yet it wasn’t. The metal chains hanging from the ceiling had been removed, but the bodies of their brothers remained where they’d been. The body of the Taliban member had been moved, though his blood on the wall was still there.

Four wooden crates now stood in the center of the room, creating a square around the bodies of Patriot, Lamb Chop, Sparkles, and St. Nick. Wooden arms now hung from the cave ceiling, dangling a roped noose over each box.

The gunshot that rang out startled Julian from his shock at the drastic changes in the room. Cajun’s shout of pain echoed around as Julian’s training dropped him to a single knee. As soon as he spotted the leader walking up the cavern tunnel towards them, Julian pulled the trigger.

Click.

Nothing happened. Frantic, Julian pulled the trigger of the rifle again.

Click.

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