Into The Gorge

“I need to see it.”

I said it a little too forcefully. For a long moment, Captain Forest only looked at me. After a while, I suddenly feared that he would say no and despite myself, I forced my features to soften.

“Please.”

I didn’t tell him about the awful feeling in my gut or about the nightmare. But perhaps he saw something in my face, because he didn’t object. Striding forward without a word, Captain Forest gestured with his head for me to follow. I fell in behind him and we walked out of the camp in tense silence, heading towards a cluster of boulders towering high a mile or so away from the lake. Captain Forest didn’t make a sound, but his body language wasn’t hostile as it had been not long ago. He moved wearily, as if he was carrying a great burden on his shoulders, but I could see that he was more alert than he should be; like he was waiting for something to happen. It wasn't difficult to imagine why; he had been the one to discover it.

The jutting rock grew larger as we neared it, more like a monument in the earth than a mound of rubble and beneath the boulders was a smaller mass of rocks, piled neatly on top of one another like a grave. We came to a stop before it and for a fraction of a second, I considered going back. But I knew I couldn't. There was something very wrong about this place. I needed to see it.

“Is this where you found it?”

“No.” Captain Forest's voice was blunt. “It was a few metres from the water.”

I only nodded. Stepping forward, I knelt beside the makeshift coffin and began to move away the rocks. The Captain made no move to help me, but I barely noticed. I only had one thought in mind: the body.

The smell hit me first. A shower of flies rose out of the stone as I removed the rocks, a twister of bulbous, engorged wings. When I looked into the shadows of the cairn, I saw the outline of a rounded, sinking face. I looked away. It was difficult to tell, but the child wasn’t as young as I’d imagined. Perhaps twelve or thirteen years old. A young boy. Overcome by shame, I covered the child’s face again with the rocks. It felt wrong to pry upon the dead.

“Captain Storm.”

I looked back. Captain Forest's hand was extended forward slightly as if he might stop me, but he didn’t move toward me. He looked anxious, torn. For a moment, I thought he would ask me to leave, but looking away, he sighed instead.

“On the chest.”

Looking back towards the cairn, I gauged where the child’s chest would be before moving the rocks away. I heard the low rumbling of flies beneath the stone and shut my eyes more as fat blue bottles escaped into the air, humming and buzzing sickeningly. When they finally dispersed, I squinted in the dimming light and looked into the mock grave. As the shape of the boy's torso came into focus, I stopped, stunned. Amongst a nest of writhing maggots, I saw it; the ragged, festering flesh of a carving! Just like the tribesman we had found the day before, the dead boy’s chest had been carved deep to bare the number thirteen! My chest heaved and I retched, clamping a hand tightly over my mouth as I fought the wave of nausea building up inside me. Thirteen. The killings were connected!

Knowing I'd seen enough, Captain Forest moved quickly towards the grave, piling rocks back into place as I covered my mouth to stop myself vomiting. The hum of buzzing wings became quieter as the Captain sealed away the horrors underneath, but my chest felt like there was an icy hand crushing it. I remembered the beautiful, whispering voice from my nightmare.

“Thirteenth of the thirteenth…”

Shaken, I stared at the rock grave without really seeing whilst Captain Forest sealed away the child for good.

“Why?” I asked, shaking my head. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

“I did.” He replied, placing the last stone over the grave.

His expression was dark, but I saw he was telling the truth. Was that why our Colonel was so eager to move through the gorge? To get away from this mutilated boy? But who was doing this? And why? What connection did it have to the number thirteen? The answers to my questions eluded me as Captain Forest walked over to me, his face grim and his hand extended.

“We have to go.”

The memory of a younger flashed before me; a much younger Captain Forest, extending a bloodied hand and screaming at me to run. I ignored it. Batting away his hand, I suppressed the chill in my bones as I pulled myself to my feet. The stone tomb pulsed with the buzzing of flies behind me and I turned away, not able to look at it a second longer.

“We should burn it.”

“There’s no time.” The Captain replied, his voice far away.

He looked distracted, nothing like the stony-faced, cold man I had come to know. If anything, I saw something else there. Something I hadn't seen for over seven years.For some reason, I found myself wondering what he was thinking about, though I told myself I didn't care. I doubted he ever thought about anything besides the regiment anymore, stuck so stubbornly behind his mask of stone. Emptily, I remembered the fiery, hateful eyes that had stared so accusingly at me not long ago. But they were long gone now; buried once again beneath the stone man.

Captain Forest turned to walk away and I followed; my mind a tumult of thoughts. Passing back across the mountain basin, we could see the regiment moving into formation through the evening gloom in the distance. Soon we would be moving out and into the gorge.

“I’m sorry.”

I looked up at him distractedly, having barely even heard him speaking.

“What?”

“I’m sorry.” He repeated quietly beside me. “For earlier. I never wanted things to go that far...”

I was too rattled to even register surprise.

“Don’t.” My eyes never even left the floor. “Just don’t.”

The rest of our journey back was spent in silence. When we reached the camp, we parted ways to prepare our men into formation. Time passed quickly and as I directed my men to help dismantle the camp, a thick ball of anxiety sat in my stomach and refused to move. I wanted to be gone from this place. To leave behind all of the nightmares we'd come across since marching here. But even as we prepared to march out, I felt no better for it. Something was wrong. I thought of Captain Forest's posture as we strode towards the corpse, tightly coiled as if he were expecting something terrible to happen and couldn’t help but feel the same. A sudden thought came over me and before we moved out, I mounted my stallion and made a beeline for the Colonel.

“Colonel.” I kept my voice level. “Private Song rides with me.”

I waited for the fireworks to start. The Colonel had hated me the moment I had joined the regiment and he made no secret of it. I had immense respect for the man; as a leader, a warrior and as the man who had saved my life. But my personal feelings couldn't have been more opposite - I hated the man with every fibre of my being. I expected his face to start turning red as it always did when he was angry, but it didn't. Sat atop of brilliant mare, the Colonel only regarded me irritably for a moment before rolling his eyes.

“Damnit, Bleak!” He rumbled before waving me away. “Fine, fine! But I hear even one bloody complaint from the girl and I’m leaving her behind!”

Surprised, I wasn't even angry that he had once again neglected to address me by my title. There was a hesitance in his voice that I'd never heard before, in all my years with the regiment. Was he…afraid?

“Sir.” I nodded, forcing myself to swallow my pride. “...Thank you.”

I turned to leave.

“Don’t you go soft on me now, Bleak!” He shouted after me. “And stop looking so bloody cryptic! You’re giving my horse the shits!”

Private Song was towards the rear of my company, back in full armour and with her gun slung over her shoulder. She looked better since her ordeal a few weeks ago, but she hunched over slightly as she stood and looked exhausted. I could see she was in no condition to march even three weeks after the whipping. She looked even younger than I would have thought possible and I cursed the Colonel in my head for allowing a child into the ranks.

“Song!” I ordered, dismounting beside her. “You’re with me at the head of the march.”

“Ma’am?” She asked confusedly. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Don’t question me, Private!” I snapped, sounding less confident than I ought to have. “Either you get on the damn horse, or break your ankle in the gorge – your choice!”

Sparrow hesitated only a moment before nodding. Lacing my fingers together, I boosted her up into the saddle and leapt on behind her, repositioning the reins as she held onto the horse’s neck. The other soldier’s in the rank grumbled, but said nothing.

“Ready?” I asked as I turned the horse back the way I’d come.

“Ready, ma’am.” Private Song nodded, looking back at me.

There was no more stalling - it was time to march. Kicking the stallion into life, we rode back through the ranks towards the Colonel. He regarded Private Song coolly as I fell in beside him, but said nothing as he sent up the call to march. His features were set as we moved out and the usually bloodthirsty Colonel suddenly looked very different to me. There was something on his face that I’d never seen before; fear. The light was fading from the sky fast and as we marched towards the gorge, I felt as if a thousand pairs of eyes were watching us from the mountainsides. The gorge loomed in the distance.

“Captain?” Private Song murmured. “There's...something you're not telling me. Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

I said nothing, my silence saying more than words ever could. By the time the regiment had reached the foot of the narrow gorge, the sun had set fully and we were cloaked in darkness, only a few sputtering torches lit to lead the way. We had to reform our ranks to fit through the tiny space and each man marched into the darkness five abreast. As we passed between the sheer sides of towering rock, the shadow of night descended over us and I gripped the reins a little tighter. We hadn’t passed through the gorge on our way towards the contract a month ago and the thin, flat road of gravel and shoal looked ominous in the gloom. The lack of sunlight threw long, deep gashes of the road into shadow and every step echoed hollowly off of the immense walls of cavernous stone. The rock was darker here where the natural gorge had been formed and a ripple of unease flitted over me at the sight of it.

Not a single man spoke as we marched into the gorge. Blanketed on both sides by shadow, I looked upwards at the thin sliver of sky above, marvelling at the natural road through the mountains. The rock towered impossibly high above us and as I looked up at the few glinting stars in the sky, I felt light-headed. The road stretched and turned before me, no man blocking my path as the Colonel and I led the march. My eyes scanned over every rocky cluster we passed, my hands making the leather reins creak beneath my grasp. I noticed that Private Song was trained over the trigger of her gun, but she said nothing, her small frame tensed with anticipation. She cradled her battle rifle gently and I wondered if she even knew how to fire it. My horse's ears were flat against the crown of his head and I wondered if the stallion sensed the anxiety in the men. Even the Colonel’s muscles were taut, his eyes never leaving the surrounding rocks.

Painfully long minutes passed, each seeming like an eternity until an hour had passed and we began nearing the halfway point. As the road straightened out before us, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly, dangerously wrong. My eyes flitted back and forth, catching movements that weren’t there and seeing men where shadows stood. The deep-set feeling of dread inside my stomach felt like it was spreading through my veins and turning my blood to ice. As soon as we had entered the gorge, I realised that I had made an awful mistake in supporting the decision to march. Captain Forest was right - we should have waited until daylight! But I had let my wandering mind get the better of me and I had thrown common sense beneath the wheels of calamity. The feeling of being watched returned tenfold and every muscle in my body felt heavy with the weight of phantom eyes upon me.

Everything was still, save for the soft crunching of booted feet. Not a soul could be heard. The collective silence of over a thousand men was more troubling than any flickering shadow across the wall or bump in the night and I prayed for someone to make a joke or say something.

And then we heard it.

A falling pebble, clattering to the ground from above. Every impact against the mountain sounded like a thunderclap in the silence. Slowly raising his fist in the air, the Colonel halted the regiment in their tracks. Every muscle in his face was tense, straining. Listening. Waiting. I felt my pulse throbbing noisily in my head and I grit my teeth. Everything was still as over a thousand men held their breath. Not a sound could be heard.

Taking in a silent breath, I readied myself. Though I’d tried, I couldn’t deny it to myself any longer and neither could the Colonel. We weren’t alone.

“Cap-”

I clamped a hand over Private Song's mouth. Every man and woman stood rigid. Song didn’t even dare breathe as I slowly let her go, reaching for my battle rifle. Wrapping my hand around it, my finger found the trigger. I had taken the safety off long before. The mountains towering either side of the gorge loomed in the evening light like the gates to Hell and as I realised, my pulse sped up.

“It begins at the end of water’s edge. The gates of Hell will close behind you.”

The words from my nightmare rang inside my head, filling me with icy dread that lodged itself into my very core. I looked out into the darkness.

“The gates of Hell will close behind you…”

Slowly, things started to click into place. It was impossible, stupid, insane! It shouldn't have made any sense - but I knew it could be nothing but true!

“close behind you...”

The air left my lungs.

“close behind you...”

Too late, I realised what we had done.

“Colonel!”

But I was too late. In an instant, the world descended into chaos.