Marco Polo (a Hells Ranch Story)

Part 4

Matt lay motionless in bed, despite trying for hours sleep evaded him. His heart physically hurt, each painful beat reminded him Mark would never come home. The little brother who had been closer than any friend, the goofy kid who was just starting to find himself. Gone forever. Grief welled up inside him stronger than ever, he had cried for Luke all those years ago but he had been a kid himself back then. This was different, he and Mark were supposed to have their entire lives together. Each hour slowly crept by while Matt wallowed in his misery. Pink light filtered in through the window signaling a reprieve in his grief. Matt kicked off his blankets in frustration, today he would avenge Mark. Matt made his way to the kitchen, there Yellowknife joined him for breakfast. They ate their cereal in silence, Matt deep in his own thoughts. Yellowknife unsure of what to say to his hurting friend. With their cereal finished Matt did some final checks on the items he would be bringing with him. Double checking that his tactical Mossberg 500 was loaded Matt strapped a foot long Bowie knife to his left thigh. He ended with a 1911 A1 on right hip. Yellowknife was bringing his classic Remington 870 pump action and a borrowed three fifty seven revolver. Yellowknife also had a traditional tomahawk on his belt but as more of a good luck charm than a weapon. Both of the boys strapped on chest pads and neck guards they had left over from high school hockey. Matt glanced over at Yellowknife as he laced up a pair of waterproof hiking boots, they had been bitter rivals their first year playing sports together but they soon found comradery in being different. Matt being homeschooled and Yellowknife a Rez kid, neither were part of the in crowd. By the end of their high school years they had formed a strong friendship despite Matt becoming popular while Yellowknife remained more of a loner. Matt realized he could lose someone else he cared for deeply if he wasn’t careful. “Ready to do this?” Yellowknife asked, his voice snapping Matt out of his thoughts. Matt gave him a grin “damn straight, let’s finish this!” They fist bumped then headed out the door. Loading into Matt’s Jeep they sped across town to meet with Tom. Nearly every youth in Elk City knew Tom, bucking bales on his ranch was one of the best paying jobs a kid could get during the summer. He would pay anyone willing to show up $5 a bale to load them onto the hay wagons and stack them in the barn. The alfalfa bales were dusty and heavy but the pay kept kids coming back year after year. Those who had lived their lives in the area were familiar with his story, Tom had lost his five year old daughter one summer night to the devil of Redskin Butte. The loss hit his marriage hard and his wife hung herself in the barn shortly after. Tom continued ranching as a hard but fair man, despite nearing sixty he had a strength like tempered steel. As the boys pulled up to the vacant parking lot of Jack’s diner Tom was there waiting. Matt rolled down his window “you all set?” he asked. Tom gave him a nod. “Alright, we’ll see you at the spill way”. Matt pulled away leaving Tom to climb into his battered first gen dodge. The diesel wheezed into life and he put the truck in gear. Matt’s Jeep and Tom’s truck were the only vehicles on the road during the early morning. They pulled off the road a few hundred yards away from where the two eight foot diameter pipes jutted out of the ground. Behind a tree hidden from view sat the Polaris Razor that Bruce had set out earlier, the plan was to retreat from the drain system and use the Razor to speed across the mud and snow covered landscape between here and the Butte. As a precaution Yellowknife test started the side-by-side. It purred to life instantly, satisfied he joined Matt and Tom. The trio stood at the dark entrance peering into the endless inky black void. “Ready?” Tom asked. Each boy gave an affirming nod. Tom pulled out a walkie “this is team one ready for entry, is everyone in position? Out”. Bryce’s voice came through the radio his thick East European accent making him hard to understand “this is team two, water works are secure. Out”. Bruce was next “team four here, streets look clear. We got a deputy on every corner out”. There was a pause then the final voice came through slightly distorted from the distance “team five is ready, bring the heat! Out”. Matt smiled at Mick’s enthusiastic reply. “Let’s do this” Matt said to the others with determination. He led the way his shotgun mounted flashlight illuminating the path ahead. Tom had the foresight to bring a head lamp while Yellowknife held a light in one hand and his shotgun in the other. With Matt leading the way Yellowknife was center while Tom covered the rear with his Glock 19 with a 17 round magazine and a red dot competition style sight. This particular pipe was dedicated to storm water, with the freezing weather they had been experiencing there was less than an inch of water running down the center. The curved floor was slick with algae making caution of utmost importance. Matt continued advancing down the dark damp passage. The deeper they travelled the smaller it felt, due to the slight incline they could no longer see the exit and the only light present was what their flashlights provided. Matt stumbled but quickly recovered his balance after stepping on a particularly slick lump of slime. “Damn it Matt” Yellowknife whispered “you scared the crap out of me”. Tom shushed him, an echo sounded in the distance. At least Matt thought it was an echo, the dripping sounds distorted noises. Matt proceeded once more, a little slower now. They soon reached the first tee junction “Stay right” Matt whispered as quietly as possible. Not expecting a reply he moved forward. A small bit of light filtered down from a long pipe above, they had reached the first manhole. Matt checked that the pipe leading up was clear then moved past it. The trio came across a set of four smaller pipes that dumped into the main line they were traveling down. Each one was about a foot in diameter, long tendrils of green moss hung from the tips dripping moisture. Matt froze as he was halfway past the third one, a prickling feeling ran down his spine. Shivering he paused, in the silence he thought he heard something. Heart racing he focused, was that breathing? Biting his lower lip Matt swung his gun towards the pipe his light shining down it! Empty, it had been his imagination. Matt released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. After careful examination of each pipe they continued. Two more junctions and two more right turns later they passed the second manhole. They had been trekking in the darkness for an hour now, each of the three growing more agitated by the minute. Small noises were becoming common occurrences, plinks and plops regularly rang out but there was never anything to see. Matt felt a hand grasp his shoulder, jumping slightly he turned to see Yellowknife holding a finger to his lips, Matt froze as did Tom. Yellowknife pointed to the floor below, footprints, made by dozens of tiny bare feet. They were getting close. Matt did his best to slow his breathing, the narrow concrete pipe felt too constricting. His heart beat so loud he was sure the others could hear it. Steeling his nerves Matt pushed on, he did his best to calm his shaking hands but the adrenaline coursing through his veins wouldn’t allow it. Rounding yet another corner Matt froze, the side of the pipe was removed ahead. Beyond that was a large room excavated into the dirt, but it wasn’t the room that froze Matt in his tracks. It wasn’t even the heaping pile of bones that stank of rank decay. What had Matt riveted to the ground was the half dozen creatures staring at him from the darkness. Their soulless black eyes peered at him with hatred, and hunger. The tallest was scarcely four feet tall but their slime covered skin and sharp teeth were plenty intimidating. Yellowknife and Tom stopped behind him unable to see past. Matt gulped as some of the braver creatures slinked closer, they made a hissing gurgling noise as they approached. “Get ready to run like hell” Matt whispered. Tom backed up a few paces to give the others room. The biggest of the creatures stepped into the pipe barring it's blackened teeth. Matt could almost smell it’s putrid breath, then Matt smiled. It was no smile of joy but instead a grimace of knowing what needed to be done. The approaching monster hesitated, Matt used that to his advantage. He fired the shotgun from the hip, the double ought buckshot catching the creature in the face! It’s skin was torn off it’s skull and the pellets buried themselves deep in it’s brain! Before the others could react Matt pulled the gun to his shoulder, racked the slide and fired again! Two more of the creatures hit the ground! One lay still the other writhed and screamed in agony! Matt fired again into the crowed but he turned and sprinted down the path without looking to see what damage it did. Ahead of him he could see Yellowknife’s flashlight bobbing wildly as he ran for the exit. Tom was a few hundred feet ahead of both of them having started running at the first shot. They flew down the pipe throwing caution to the wind as they heard the enraged howls and screams coming from behind them. Without doubt the first part of the plan had worked, the Mannegishi were coming! From ahead Matt heard gun fire, he caught up to Yellowknife just as he found Tom, two more of the creatures lay dead at Tom’s feet, they had somehow gotten ahead of them. Tom shoved Matt and Yellowknife down the pipe “go!” He yelled “there’s a fuck ton of them down the other branch!” they needed no convincing. The three man group sprinted all out for the exit. As they passed the four pipes from earlier a clawed hand reached out and swiped at Matt, he dodged it but as Tom passed a creature plopped out of the pipe with a wet squelching sound. Before he could react the little fiend sank its teeth into Tom’s thigh! He howled in pain and collapsed to the wet concrete floor. “start the razor!” Matt screamed at Yellowknife as he turned to help Tom, just as Matt reached him Tom beat the creatures skull in with his pistol. Matt nearly froze at the sight in front of him, just a few dozen yards behind Tom was a wall of wet grey flesh and gnashing teeth! Dropping his shotgun for fear of hitting Tom Matt emptied all eight rounds of forty five caliber ACP into the approaching wall of death. Yelling out a battle cry Matt scooped up Tom and threw him over his shoulder. Somehow Tom retained his pistol and fired it repeatedly as Matt used every ounce of strength he had to sprint for the distant light. As Tom’s pistol ran empty the screeching grew closer! Matt leapt from the drain pipe directly into the bed of the waiting Razor! Yellowknife had the pedal down before Tom and Matt had even made full contact with the ATV but they managed to remain inside. One of the Mannegishi clung to tailgate until Matt dispatched it with a blow to the head from his boot. Tom grimaced as he attempted to keep a large chunk of flesh from falling off of his thigh. Matt prayed there was a med kit at the Butte. Behind them more than two dozen Mannegishi gave chase, they were fast but Yellowknife had little trouble staying ahead of them. With the Butte visible ahead Matt felt the plan was going surprisingly well. Bryce and his cousin Lars arrived at the treatment plant before sunrise. Lars had worked there briefly when he first moved to Elk City before getting a job where he didn’t have to work nights. Lars flipped the industrial switch on the wall illuminating the concrete structure. The large building was filled with tanks and pipes but there was only one place where the storm drain was directly open. Lars moved to the observation deck followed closely by Bryce. Below was a ten foot section of pipe with the top removed, it’s purpose was to screen floating litter off the top. A worker would stand on the deck and manually run a screen from side to side, sweeping bottles and foam into catch basins below where it could be sorted. During rain storms the pipes would be filled to the maximum meaning the open section needed to be sealed to prevent the plant from flooding. The cousins worked together to bolt the cover down snug “that should hold very well” remarked Bryce. Feeling satisfied they made their way back to the exit. Lars paused just as he was about to step out, Bryce gave him a quizzical look. Lars held a finger to his lips, he glanced back into the still lit building. In the shadows behind a tank something moved. Lars motioned for Bryce to come back inside, once he did they slowly closed the door careful not to make a noise. They scampered down the steps and ducked behind a large pipe. After a minute of silence a small wet grey colored hand emerged from the shadows, followed by another and then a slick dripping head was visible. Lars stifled a gasp as he gazed upon the vulgar monstrosity, it’s skin was battleship grey and lumpy like that of a toad. The hands were too big for it’s arms, the human like fingers ended in long yellow and black fingernails. They more closely resembled claws than human nails. It’s eyes seemed to be bottomless pits of obsidian, the creature gazed around the room before fully revealing itself. The shoulders were narrow and the chest bony, it had a small pot belly and a loincloth made from litter covering down to it’s knobby knees. The feet were like that of a small child with the exception of having curly black hair on them. It made an annoyed gargling sound as it boldly walked to the now covered pipe. It tapped the cover with it's yellow nails. It then hissed like a boiling kettle, picking up the wrench the cousins had left there it clumsily began loosening the bolts. Lars and Bryce gave each other a questioning look. “What now?” whispered Bryce, fear filling his voice. Lars maintained his composure slightly better. “We need to stop it from opening that pipe”. Bryce shook his head vehemently “No no my friend, let us leave that thing to the sheriff”. Lars contemplated that idea, from far down the line a shot rang out, followed by two more in quick succession. The cousins froze as did the creature. Then with an angry hiss the warped Mannegishi attacked the remaining bolts with a renewed fervor. Seeing it had five of the eight bolts undone Lars sprang into action, he grabbed a four foot pipe wrench from the nearby wall of tools and charged forward! At the last second the creature heard his pounding footsteps, as Lars brought down the heavy iron wrench the Mannegishi ducked to the side causing Lars' swing to miss it’s head! The wrench glanced off the beasts shoulder digging a deep furrow into its flesh. It hissed in rage and lashed out with its clawed hand catching Lars in the chest. The creatures size was misleading, the force behind the blow sent Lars sliding across the floor. His chest was bleeding heavily from four deep cuts, he wheezed trying to breath through multiple broken ribs. Just as Lars began to recover his senses the Mannegishi leapt onto his chest, the creature was horrifically heavy despite being only three feet tall. It lunged for his throat with a mouthful of jagged blackened teeth! Lars barely managed to get his arms up in time to stop it, the creature grabbed his forearm and snapped the bones with ease! Lars screamed in pain as his bones jutted out of his arm and blood gushed across his face. Lars braced for death, he heard a crunch like that of a watermelon being thrown onto the ground. The weight disappeared from his chest. Wiping the blood from his eyes with his good arm Lars saw Bryce pulling the big red pipe wrench from the crushed Mannegishi’s skull. He looked down to his injured cousin “O chert, you need hospital”. The pain was too much for Lars, his body went limp as he lost consciousness. Greatly concerned Bryce picked his cousin up as gently as possible and ran for the door. So great was his concern for Lars' health he never saw the grey limbs pushing back the mostly loosened pipe cover. Bryce ran out the door not bothering to close it behind himself. Once in the daylight he slowed, one of Bruce’s volunteer deputies saw him carrying a limp body and rushed over “what the hell happened to him?” he asked in shock. “Call ambulance!” Bryce demanded “one of the abominations got him”. Glancing around warily the deputy asked “where is it now?” “No worries, I crushed its head. Now help him” Bryce insisted. The deputy called for a medical team right away. “This is volunteer deputy Shawnathan Freeman, we've got a messed up civilian in need of an ambulance right now. We're outside the treatment plant”. The radio crackled back “Roger that, stay with him until we get there”. Down the street Bruce heard the exchange over the radio. A feeling of unease began to grow in his stomach. Bruce began running in the direction of the treatment plant, his gut was telling him something was wrong. He slowed his approach, in the street ahead of him Shawnathan and Bryce were running towards him dragging a barely conscious Lars between them. “They’re right behind us!” warned Shawnathan in a panic stricken voice. Sure enough, Bruce could see three gangly Mannegishi quickly gaining on the fleeing trio. Bruce cooly unstrapped the thongs holding his twin six guns in place. Drawing one in each hand Bruce fired four times, the first round striking the closest beast between the eyes. It’s head snapped back as it collapsed. The next shot went wide barely missing the second runner. His third shot struck true, exploding the creatures evil heart. The last Mannegishi hesitated for a second to long. Bruce dispatched it with a shot to the head. “I take it the plant is unsecured?” Bruce asked. Bryce just nodded. Bruce let out a weary sigh “take these two out of here" he told Shawnathan. Bruce hummed The Edmund Fitzgerald by Gordon Lightfoot as he reloaded his revolvers. He stopped briefly at the door of the plant, he truly was getting too old for this shit. Figures darted through the darkness ahead of him. “Let’s see if I have one last monster hunt in me” Bruce said to himself then entered the building guns drawn. Mick and I sat atop the infamous Butte, he was glassing the area with a high end spotting scope while I monitored the radio. Both of our hearts sank when we heard Shawnathan’s panicked voice say someone had been badly injured. “Is this typically how you do things?” I asked. Mick replied without removing his eye from the scope “not really, no. Not at all actually. Normally there would be a team of trained agents sent out once I identified the target”. Curious I asked “so why wasn’t there?” Mick shrugged “I think funding is tight right now. I don’t get a lot of details, just orders and paychecks. I did request backup though, but I never got a reply”. I was about to ask another question when Mick jumped to his feet “I see the Razor! Three passengers, they all made it out!” the relief in Mick’s voice showed just how worried he had been. As the Razor drew near we laid in the prone position and took up our rifles, with surprise I counted twenty little grey Mannegishi. I jumped as Mick’s three thirty eight boomed out! One of the front running Mannegishi collapsed mid stride. Shouldering my three hundred win mag I took aim. Even through the scope they looked terrifying, they didn’t belong in this world and I felt nothing but recoil as I sent my projectile threw it’s chest. That was two down. The others slowed slightly looking around unsure of what had happened to their comrades. The Razor slowed as it reached the base of the Butte then sped away again. I saw it turn in the distance before heading in the direction of town. None of the Mannegishi seemed to notice it as they had now spotted us and they were coming with vengeance in their hearts. Mick’s rifle boomed twice more, dropping one with a gut shot and blowing the knee out of another. I fired round after round as fast as I could but they were dodging and weaving through the sparse under growth. What had appeared to be a blank desert before was suddenly filled with hiding places. Yellowknife’s voice came over the radio “Mick, Scott, I dropped Matt off at the ladder. I’ve got to get Tom to the hospital, his wound is a lot worse than we thought”. The approaching Mannegishi we’re too close for us to take a break in firing, Matt was going to have to get up here on his own. I reloaded my rifle as Mick picked off another of the Mannegishi. They were less than one hundred yards from the base of the Butte now. I slammed the magazine into my Browning and worked the lever, scanning the desert below I spotted movement. I fired into a small sage bush, I watched with satisfaction as a little grey body flopped onto the sand. Two more sprinted for the Butte, I fired narrowly missing the head of the closer one. They disappeared under the lip of the Butte. “Damn it” I cursed “Mick, two of them made it to the base!” “There’s a lot more than two on there way up!” called Matt as he crested the ladder. Turning quickly he slashed the thick ropes with his knife severing them. Screams rang out as the ladder plummeted down. Matt fired a revolver over the edge killing another. Mick tossed his rifle to the ground and drew his scorpion “Shits about to get hairy!” he called out. My head was throbbing from all the gunfire and smoke. The Mannegishi we’re scaling the rocks like spiders, hissing and spitting in fury. Following Mick’s example I dropped the Browning in favor of my hellcat nine millimeter. Matt grabbed the Saiga twelve gauge that I had set out earlier, he blasted the head off an approaching Mannegishi! Seeing another climbing up the edge I shot it twice, the little full metal jackets tearing threw flesh and bone. The creature fell to the rocks bellow where it expired with a meaty crunch. Two more took its place, three more shots stopped the first, a wall of full auto fire from Mick sent the second to it’s death. Behind us Matt was holding his own, the buckshot ripping muscle from bone. The air was filled with gunfire and the screams of dying monstrosities. I dropped the magazine from my hellcat and slammed another in it’s place, the bastards were climbing up at a terrifying rate. It felt like no matter how many we shot more took their place. As I dispatched another, three more charged from our right! Mick dumped lead in their direction, one died instantly the second stumbled as it took a round to the stomach then Mick’s scorpion clicked empty. The creature was too close for me to risk shooting, Mick dodged to the side as it lunged! He was quick but not quick enough to escape the claws, Mick cussed loudly as the creatures nails opened his bicep. With his good arm Mick drew his katana and cut the creature down! I was so preoccupied with Mick’s fight that I didn’t hear the one behind me until it leapt on my back! It was like getting hit with a sack of bricks, the beast was unnaturally heavy. And strong! It wrapped a lumpy grey arm around my neck and began to squeeze the life out of me. Spots appeared in my vision almost instantly. Then it screamed and released me, I rolled over gasping for breath just in time to see Mick plunge his sword through the creature. “Thanks” I gasped. Mick handed me my pistol then replaced his spent magazine with a full one “ammo is getting low” he remarked. I don't know how he did it but even on the cusp of death the guy remained relaxed. As I was getting to my feet a large Mannegishi blind sided Mick, his gun went flying as the creature tackled him to the ground! Still on my knees I fired into the creatures back, it howled in pain. I was struck from the side by a beast of my own, it was a smaller one but still a formidable enemy! It took all my strength to fend of those snapping teeth! I managed to get my leg between us and with a shove I sent the creature back a couple paces. It wasn’t enough, before I could recover my gun it charged once more! Just as it was about to pounce its head exploded into a pink mist, a distant gunshot echoed past. I realized it was much to quiet, scrambling to my feet I saw Matt chasing a Mannegishi across the rocks, his Bowie knife stuck into its skull. The large Mannegishi that had tackled Mick lay motionless across him. Running over I rolled the smelly hulk off my friend, Mick sat up covered in the thick nearly black liquid that I knew to be the creatures blood. Glancing around I saw there was still a handful of the creatures about. The chest of one exploded, again followed by a distant gunshot. Mick peered into the horizon “looks like we have some back up” he commented. Grabbing my pistol I took aim at the last creature, it looked me dead in the eye. Then with a smile and a hiss it charged. It died of lead poisoning before reaching my feet. Matt had caught up to his fleeing target and brutally slaughtered it with his knife. I heard the distant rifle boom once more, looking out over the desert I could see three Mannegishi running in the direction of town. I quickly grabbed my Browning, dusting it off I shouldered it and took aim. A second later I blew the chest out of an abomination. Mick’s rifle cracked off a shot as well, the second creatures head evaporated. A boom rang out from our mystery friend ending the final creatures life. The top of the Butte was littered with gore and dead Mannegishi. The sand stained with their dark blood, brass casings glinted in the mid day sun. I didn’t feel victorious, I felt sad. I questioned if this had been the right way to go. We’re these creatures inherently evil? Or perhaps they were just somewhere they didn’t belong and incapable of adapting. Mick looked as solemn as I felt, his job was to protect everyday people from the things that go bump in the night. But I don’t think that made annihilating entire subcultures any easier. Matt checked that each Mannegishi was dead, for all their strength and speed they succumbed to bullets surprisingly easily. “We need to check on the town” said Matt. Mick nodded “for sure, we know at least one injured somebody”. I grabbed a coil of rope and tied it off to an anchor “are you good?” I asked Mick. He flexed his mangled bicep “it’s gonna hurt but I’ll be fine”. Matt rappelled down first, he made quick work of it and reached the bottom in under ten minutes. Turning to Mick I asked “you sure you got this?” he waved me off “just go dude, I’m fine”. The rivulets of blood dripping from his arm begged to differ but I let it go. It took me a little longer than Matt to reach the bottom. I unsnapped my rope brake and hollered up to Mick “ALL CLEAR BELOW!” Mick slowly descended, his feet slid more than once causing him to spin dangling from the rope. Exhausted he finally reached the ground. After catching his breath he said “alright, let’s get to the truck and head to town”. We had hid Mick’s truck less than a thousand yards from the Butte. We made good time hiking to it and soon were loaded up. Mick aimed for town and pedaled down, we sped down the slick clay covered road until we hit asphalt.