The Few, The Proud, The Undead

III

The jungle was a different place at night. It was meaner, scarier, and more dangerous. Everything seemed to take on an air of hostile enmity. Enormous branches jutted out in all direction, stretching out like claws ready to snatch up an unwitting victim. Even the slender saplings radiated creeping malevolence.

The soldiers found a dry, flat clearing deep within a secluded valley where they could establish a base camp. There were massive, towering trees all around them, some centuries old. The dense treetop canopy shielded all but a tiny parcel of the night sky from their view, where a handful of stars twinkled brightly.

Buff built a fire, one big enough to warm them through the night but small enough to avoid detection. He threw another log of wood down onto the burning embers, sending sparks flying off in all directions. Spooner and Torrence stood to one side, admiring Buff's work.

"We're going to need more wood," the Sergeant said, pulling a fresh cigarillo from his pocket. "Buff, go find as much kindling as you can."

"Yes, sir." Buff nodded, then walked off into the forest.

Spooner swallowed deeply. Now he was alone with the Sergeant, and this tough old soldier intimidated the hell out of him. Torrence struck a match and lit the end of his cigarillo.

"Spooner," he said, exhaling a wisp of pungent smoke, "you and I will get these tents set up."

"Of course, sir." Spooner pulled a tent out of his backpack and began laying it on the ground, preparing to assemble it.

He looked over at his commanding officer. The Sergeant was leaning against a tree, savoring every puff of his delicious cigarillo, offering Spooner no help all. One of the many benefits of command.

Spooner resigned himself to his work. His started sliding the extending metal poles through the tent's support beams. Within a few minutes, he already had the first tent erected.

Torrence appeared deep in thought. He said nothing for quite some time, before finally turning to the young soldier.

"Spooner?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I understand you're good with electronics."

***

After dark, the perilous jungles of the Tango-Delta sector would frighten even the bravest soldier. The darkness provided plenty of cover for ravenous nocturnal creatures to hide. The air was filled with the cacophonous sounds of exotic animals.

Buff trudged through this murky brush alone, looking for more firewood. He already had a small bundle under one arm. Spotting another sizeable twig, he stopped, bent over and picked it up. A few more pieces of kindling and there would be enough wood to sustain the fire through the night.

He wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his jacket. He was drenched with sweat. He was already exhausted from all the hiking he'd done that day. There wasn't an inch of skin on his body that wasn't damp. All he could think about was about how badly every muscle in his miserable body was aching.

He was even oblivious to the small pool of blood he had stepped in. Its edges had only just begun to cake against the leaves. This was from a fresh kill. It was warm and sticky, and clung tightly to the sides of Buff's boot as he walked away.

Some twenty yards behind him, something was in the bushes, lying in wait. Something awful and unspeakable. It was a giant, hulking, drooling thing with serrated fangs. A creature with black fur and massive claws. A hungry monster looking for it's next meal. The tiny fawn it ate earlier was just an appetizer. It let out a heavy, gurgling breath as it slowly inched towards Buff.