Chapter 18: Switchback pt.2

CHAPTER 18: SWITCHBACK PT.2

“Fuck,” I press my hands against my flayed flesh.

“Who’s all hurt?!” John paces back and forth.

“Just bruises here,” Big Mike checks his arm as he comes towards me.

Cody waves John off as he pulls my pack from my shoulders.

“I got grabbed. Fucker nearly took off with me,” I hiss out between the beats of sharp pain.

“Cody has you, you’ll be just fine, little lady,” Mike sits in front of me, pulling my hand from the wound.

Cody flushes the wound with water and begins wrapping a pre-made bandage around my shoulder. The burning sensation lessens for a moment before coming back full force. Everything will be fine, I’ll be fine, we’ve got this. I try to focus my breathing.

“Okay, here,” Big Mike drags me to the cave wall, resting my back against it. “Just sit back and relax. Here’s some food. It always makes me feel better,” He gives me a wide comforting smile. His lips fill the bottom half of his face as he eases me gently down.

I take small bites as I watch the guys look around using what little light peaks through the crack. John comes back from a corner with a stack of wood and soon Cody has a fire going. As the flame lights up the cavern, beautiful paintings reveal themselves on the walls. I train my eyes on them as I breathe through the pain.

The paintings depict winged creatures flying over mountains, colorful scales seemingly shine off the stone walls, the etchings show clear in the firelight . At the base of the mountain rests a town. The people pray to the distant creatures. One of the fliers comes to the town in the dead of winter, releasing a cone of flame into the air, burning snowflakes from existence. It flies up to the tallest peak, and rests.

The mural continues on behind me, but I refuse to turn and look with the piercing pain slowing into a sharp ache. It must be pretty obvious I need a distraction, as a moment later the guys shift into relaxation and John begins speaking. He tells us stories from home. Movies adapted to storytelling. The images fill my mind as he speaks. I watch the low flame dance as I slowly drift off to sleep.

The morning comes too quickly, and the pain is back in force. I let out a miserable groan, and shift from sitting against the wall to lying on my right side. My hip still aches, but I barely feel it under the pain of my left shoulder.

“Fuck me,” I mutter as the pain thrums through my body.

Cody, having been watching me, brings some water and urges me to drink. I force myself back up and down it. My dry throat, barely quenched by the flood of fluid. I let out a hacking cough but keep drinking. It isn’t until three cups later that I start sipping it instead. I put my attention on my friends as I try to avoid using my left shoulder. “Everyone else okay then?”

With an easy smile and slight nod, Cody passes me some breakfast and begins checking my bandages. I wince as he pulls back on my crusty wound and I try to keep my attention on the jerky.

“So… what should we do now?” John asks the room from his place near the warm coals.

“Good question, we’re more than half way down the cliff face, but maybe we should go back.” Big Mike pokes at his bruised face before shrugging and grabbing some food.

“We’re not going back,” I breathe out. “Just give me a couple hours, and we can press on. We’re so close.”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea. You can’t even hold a bow as is, I’m useless in a fight and we’ll just be a burden on the other two,” John’s voice quivers as he speaks. His hands clenched and head down.

“I might not be able to do a full draw, or even use my bow at all, but I have my spear and can use it one handed. Sure, you’re not great in a fight, but you identified various herbs thus far and have been mapping our progress. We are not useless, and we are not a burden. Alright John?” I force out between gritted teeth, refusing to pause before I lose my train of thought.

“Not great in a fight? I’m useless in battle!” His voice hitches. Mike quickly gets up and kneels next to the boy.

“Hey my man, breathe for me. Everything’s fine. This girl heals so fast Chris has been tearing his hair out over it. We have nothing to worry about, we’ll just sit tight for a few hours and carry on.”

I finally release a breath as Cody removes the last of the bloodied bandages. He takes some needle and sinew from camp and stitches the wounds tight. I barely notice the pin pricks of the needle after he peels the crusty bandages from my flesh.

Despite my words, a few hours later I only have a dull ache, but now it’s a blend of pain from both shoulder and hip, rather than just the one spot. My left arm is stiff, and I’ll not shoot unless I have to, but I’m good enough to trek onwards.

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“Lets leave the pelts and any extra supplies here. We can pick stuff back up on the way home,” I tell the group.

With a trademark nod from Cody and a thumbs up from Mike, we strip our gear of extra weight. I hook my bow onto my back-basket, and pull out my spear for a walking stick. Before long we’re ready to go.

With the shorter length switchbacks on the way down, it only takes us a couple hours to reach the bottom. The entire time we kept eyes to the sky and clung to the wall just in case.

As we approach the base of the cliff the humidity rises. The itchiness becomes almost palpable, and water builds up on our skin from the atmosphere alone. The last switch turns off into a watery mess.

The clear water covers the path at least half a foot deep, then penetrates into the mud below. I check the tree line and the more earth-like smaller trees of this area are clustered with vegetation. The dark soil contrasts with the red stuff near our river.

“Do we really have to go through a fucking swamp?” I kick a stone into the water.

“I can carry you little miss,” Big Mike puts a hand around my shoulder, eliciting a hiss in return.

“Let’s just get it over with.” I step into the water, immediately getting my foot stuck in the mud. “Fuck, I’m a dumbass.”

I work my foot free from the mud when my shoulder is yanked by a massive hand. My bones pull from the force and I’m caught between the mud's grip and Mike’s forceful pull. The pain blinds me but my foot slips free.

“Move!” Mike yells as he rips me free from the mud and drags me several paces back onto land.

A loud splash, and crunch echo from the water as I watch a gator’s jaws snap close where I was caught. The reptilian body twists and eyes us as it slinks deeper into the water. Goosebumps coat my arms and I lean into big Mike's form.

We pull back further away from the edge.

“Welp, this sucks,” I rub my shoulder, feeling the bruises already forming.

We sit back and discuss for a while to formulate a plan. Mike takes the lead, arms crossed as he thinks up a solution to our reptilian friend. John starts guessing measurements, pacing back and forth as he bounces ideas around. Cody takes his own initiative, pulling items from his pack and getting tools ready for our next steps. I simply watch, sitting in the wet earth as I watch the three men plan.

“Is the best we have really going to be: throw a rope over a tree limb and swing to the tree line?” John’s exasperation turns almost physical under the combined stress of the group.

“I’ll go first. If it can hold a man of pure muscle it can hold any of you.” Big Mike flexes his arm and shoulders.

“I can’t think of any other way.” I take Cody’s proffered hand and stand up.

“Remind me never to leave camp again,” John lets out a frustrated sigh.

With a swing and a pull from Cody, we have a rope over a seemingly sturdy branch. Big Mike follows his word and is the first to swing across. The muscular man doesn’t even hesitate as he glides over the gator-infested water and thumps onto the risen tree line. With a good swing he tosses the rope back over to us, and I go next. I clutch tightly with my right arm and release into a hug from Big Mike.

John, with additional coaxing from the group, finally takes the leap. Mike has to reach out and grab the man, who nearly lost his balance trying to let go of the rope.

Last but not least, Cody swings across and pulls the rope back down. With a small bit of effort we’re on our way. As we step further into the wetland we hear movement in the water behind us. The four of us pause, look back, and gape. As a monstrous sized gator plows through the waterway.

We press on, my internal compass telling us we’re closing in. We refuse to stop when we realize there’s only a couple miles left and the sun is still in the sky. We’ve just got to hurry. Hopefully this exchanger thing can work as a shelter.

Throughout our swampy excursion a multitude of animals skitter by, or fly above. We pass by some sort of insect swarm devouring a snake carcass. Several seemingly mundane plants with grasping maws lash out as we walk by and other plants that are practically luminescent in their appearance we avoid entirely.

The muck sticks to our legs, and the water clings to our skin. But in the distance, something odd appears. Half sunken buildings of dull white stone peak out of the swamp. The majority of each structure is under the mud and water, leaving only corners and roofing left in the elements. My internal compass pulls me onward, deeper into the once village.

Each step tells another story of a home left behind. Not a single structure is upright yet even with the bland buildings blending together, one sticks out. A steeple-like structure thrashes at the sky, leading us into a small old church. The boys watch as I press on, pulling my way through the half-sunk building.

Inside, shattered glass windows are overflowing with mud, the rooftop itself is nearly bowing under its own weight, and the altar is pierced by a sword. The once beautiful church is nothing more than a discarded building, left behind by both its god and its people. The boys watch in confusion as I venture towards the white and gilded altar. Each step I take increases the itchy sensation, halfway there, and it feels as if it’s sunk into my bones. The sounds of the swamp fades in the presence of a roaring in my ears. I step up to the altar with a now physical pressure pushing down on me. I reach out, hands trembling, and grasp the long rusted sword. With a solid grunt I heave the blade free.

The pressure crashes down around me. The roaring swells until all sound fades. The itchiness floods through my body. Then, just as quick as it came, it left.

I find myself, knee deep in mud, holding myself up on the altar. The sword crumbled into dust next to me, leaving naught but an iron outline In the mud.

[System Strength: Increasing]

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…..

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[System Access: stabilized]

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[System Access: Weak]

[System Quest Updated]

[Log Updated]

[System Update available]

Each prompt passes through my mind’s eye. The boys behind me stagger at the sudden influx of system notifications flashing before them. With little grace, I pat the altar and rotate my body. A defeated plop lands my hide covered ass in the cool mud. My brown hair rests, plastered to my face with sweat. While my sun-kissed skin jitters without the once omnipresent tingles.