Falstaff, segregated for no reason other than his equipment, suffered alone, waiting for what came next.
In a daze, I asked Murray a question.
She turned to me. “Wh-what?”
“Before… before what happened… the chieftain… it said something. It sounded like just one word.”
“I don’t want to say, Ted. Really. You don’t want to know.”
“Please. Share it, Lisa. Tell me and share it. What did that thing say just before it skinned our captain?”
“Jesus, Ted. I’ve only heard that word a couple of times among the indigenous people and only ever among the children.”
“The children…”
“Once in a while, one of the privates will share some chocolate ration or a cookie pack with one of the indigenous kids. That thing over there said the same word the children say when they’re anticipating a treat.”
“Share it, Lisa. What did that thing say just before it tore into Captain Najafi?”
“It said ‘yummy’.”
The chieftain refrained from dirtying its hands murdering any more of our number. Instead, it whooped and laughed and clapped as every few hours a fresh nightmare would detach itself from the shadows, slither from the grass, drop down from the trees, rise from the fetid swamp or crash from the jungle into the clearing. Starting with Corporal Tsang, these new creatures, each just as horrible and twisted as the next, worked their way down the line of soldiers. Twice, the kill was as swift as Captain Najafi. The rest were not so fortunate. One of the privates I didn’t know must have taken an hour to die, all the time tormented by a tentacled thing whose touch burned like acid.
Each time a new horror entered the clearing, the chieftain spoke to Murray. It told her the rest of us must watch. If we looked away, the shadowy thing reappeared and began slicing off pieces of the next person in line. When the last private finally died and was devoured, the chieftain strode across the clearing to Falstaff.
It took his face into one of its eight-fingered hands. It seemed to size him up, then looked down at his gear. It turned to Murray and spoke.
“It says you’re different from the other soldiers, Falstaff,” Murray said. “It is asking me why you wear armor but carry no weapon.”
The chieftain nudged the hammer and stakes with one of its hooves. Murray barked a long string of words.
“I just told it those aren’t weapons. That they’re used to mark location – territory is the word the indigenous people use. I told it you assist Ted, Falstaff. I don’t know what it wants.”
The chieftain approached me. The maw opened and closed as it drew near. The fingertip claws clacked with each step. It regarded me with those cold, glassy eyes. I felt like some scientific specimen wriggling on a pin. It levelled a claw in my direction and spoke at length with Murray.
She nodded at the end and took a deep breath.
“These creatures did take your camera and my voice recorder. When I asked it why it said, ‘So that we can relive the moments again and again after you are used up.’”
“Used up? Jesus…”
“I think ‘used up’ actually means ‘gone’ but I’m not entirely sure. Given what we’ve been through… It was very interested in why we are here. I explained as best I could. Then it wanted to know about you.”
I swallowed hard. “Me?”
“It says it wants to talk to you about your maps.”
The furry creature with all the legs and the snapping teeth dropped from the trees and sped toward me. I felt hot breath as it snarled and circled me, freeing me from the vines amid a tornado of flashing, broken ivory. As it scuttled a few metres away, it clacked its teeth at me.
The chieftain crouched and placed a fingertip beneath my chin. It lifted my head so I would have to look into its maw as it spoke. After a dozen or so words, it seemed to smile and released my chin.
“It wants you to be cooperative. If… if you aren’t… the Shadowman will hurt me.”
I nodded. “Tell it that I’ll do as I’m told.”
“Fuck that,” yelled Falstaff. “It’s just going to kill us all as soon as it gets what it wants. Don’t you dare help it, Ted.”
The Shadowman appeared behind Falstaff and silently reached toward his ear.
“Stop!” I raised a hand and pointed at the chieftain. To my surprise, the Shadowman actually hesitated. “Don’t you dare let that thing hurt him. Lisa, tell it if that… that Shadowman lays a finger on Falstaff there’s no way in hell I’ll do what it wants.”
Alien words tumbled frantically from Lisa’s mouth. The chieftain laughed and dismissively waved three of its hands. The Shadowman drifted back a few metres, but like a bad dream didn’t dissipate entirely.
I dipped my head to the chieftain. “Thank you,” I said. “Falstaff, please stay quiet. I think the Shadowman behind you is just itching to rip you apart the next time you open your mouth. Lisa, what does it want from me?”
The chieftain gathered my maps and rolled them out on the ground. It placed different bits of our gear on the corners to keep the papers from curling up. Murray translated back and forth as we spoke.
“These are pictures of this world?” the chieftain said.
“Yes. I’ve shown where there’s water and land. This shade of green is the jungle. Villages are marked. These lines are elevation – how high or low the land goes. See?”
A crusted talon tapped a dot on the map.
“This place here. That is the village of Chokohn, yes?”
I nodded. “It is. You know of Chokohn? Of his village?”
“I visit him in his dreams.” The smile appeared on the maw. “In his nightmares.” The chieftain’s other hands moved to all the other village dots on all three maps. “I visit them all in their nightmares. They know better than to come out here looking for us. I am surprised old Chokohn did not warn you to stay away.”
We all lowered our heads. Understanding the gesture, the chieftain laughed.
“He is a wise man. You should always listen to wise men. Wise men know this territory–” one of its hands spread out over the blank area of the map that represented where we were “–all of this territory belongs to me and mine. We have now taught you – as we once taught their ancestors – this place is not for you. Like their ancestors, we shall allow some of you to go so that you may pass down the notion that this is an unpleasant place to visit.” It tapped the map, then pointed at me. “We let you go specifically to mark that on your picture. A warning that your people may be wise enough to heed. A warning so your people will always know what awaits them when foolish enough to come this way.”
The chieftain rose, clacking its fingertips twice. The furry creature whirled around Murray, then Falstaff, freeing them both. We all stood naked in the clearing. The chieftain turned to leave, then hesitated. It clacked its fingers one last time. The Shadowman appeared at Falstaff’s side, seized his left hand and twisted off his little finger. As Falstaff slumped to his knees, holding his hand to staunch the bleeding, the chieftain spoke its last words.
“Do as I ask,” it said, “or I shall send the Shadowman for the rest of them.”
Dropping to my knees, I scrambled to open the case that held my pens. I outlined the area the chieftain had indicated in black and crosshatched the edges of the lines for emphasis. With a trembling hand, I made the notation.
“What have you written?” Murray asked.
“The only thing that makes sense,” I told her. “Here There Be Monsters.”
UNBORN
Justin Bell