Wonder World: Ignition

First Blood

"Alex! Friend Alex!" Mbabelli's voice was urgent. Alex bolted upright. It was still a few hours before dawn. "Alex, we must leave now! Hurry!"

"What's wrong?" Alex grumbled as he scrambled to grab his walking stick.

"Mbeh left in the night. I fear he will do something stupid. We must stop him. Come, quickly now!" Mbabelli was already out the door and bounding into the woods. Alex ducked out the door, then hastily stepped back inside to string his bow and grab a handful of arrows, just in case.

Mbabelli waited impatiently for him at the edge of the forest. Alex hobbled as fast as he could to keep up with him. Mbabelli moved through the woods with practiced grace. If he was nervous, he didn't show it. Alex's heart was hammering. He'd never been in a real firefight before. He'd acted in them dozens of times, sure, but he wasn't the main character anymore, and this wasn't a movie. If he got shot, he was dead. No retakes. It felt like his heart was about to explode from the adrenaline. The mine was only a mile or two from the village, but it took forever to travel through the thick undergrowth. The miners had hacked a makeshift path through the jungle wide enough for their motorcycles, but Mbabelli didn't dare travel on it.

The sun was almost up when they heard a shout from ahead. Then, the crack of gunfire split the morning calm. Mbabelli broke into a sprint as the sound of fighting intensified. Alex struggled to keep up with the smaller man, but his walking stick kept getting caught on the dense foliage. He could see a clearing up ahead. An engine revved before fading into the jungle. Alex burst into the clearing to find Mbabelli collapsed at its center, cradling the body of his son.

"Mbeh!" he begged, "Mbeh!" Tears ran down his cheeks as he wept bitterly. Alex could only watch. There were two more corpses in the clearing next to an overturned dirt-bike, and both had arrows in their necks. Alex couldn't seem to look away. He stared transfixed at their glassy eyes, wishing he knew what to say. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't stay here, more men from the mine would show up any minute. If he went back to the village he would get shot for sure.

"The village!" he suddenly remembered. "Mbabelli, we have to get back!" If Mbabelli heard him, he gave no response. He simply stared at his son, weeping softly to himself. "Mbelli, they will kill Mopana!" Alex shook him by the shoulder, but Mbabelli would not move.

"Who will dance for my people, Alex? Who will dance for my son when I am gone?" Mbabelli wept bitterly.

"I will!" Alex shouted in frustration. "I'll dance all fucking night if I have to, but first I'm going to send every single one of those assholes straight to hell." He didn't really have a plan, but someone had to do something, and it might as well be him. He pulled an AK-47 from the hand of a dead enforcer and fished the keys for the dirt-bike out of his vest pocket. His hands were shaking as he opened the action of the rifle to make sure a bullet was in the chamber. He felt better now that he was doing something, even if it was something insanely stupid. He hauled the motorcycle upright and dug through the saddlebag, looking for anything useful. He found a couple road flares, a flashlight, water, some snacks,  a roll of duck tape, a folding knife, and a hand grenade. Holy shit, what kind of miners were these guys?

"Stay here!" he shouted over his shoulder as he kicked the dirt-bike to life. He tore down the makeshift trail, weaving between trees and ducking under branches. There were more tire tracks on the trail, not a good sign. Gunshots rang out through the trees and he cranked on the throttle. He skidded to a halt about a hundred yards back from the village. The adrenaline was really kicking in now. He snatched the knife, flares, tape, and grenade from the saddlebag and stuffed them in his basket before creeping slowly forward.

Ahead he heard muffled voices laughing in a language he didn't know, followed by one last gunshot before the forest fell into an eerie silence. Alex peered out from behind a tree, the AK-47 clutched tightly in his hands. The corpses of the villagers lay where they fell. Flies already had started to swarm, and a group of four armed men were digging through the huts before setting them ablaze. Alex gagged when he saw Mopana face down on the threshold of her home, hand outstretched for something she would never reach.

"They will pay for this," he promised himself. He had never killed anyone before. He had fired thousands of bullets during his career and gunned down hundreds of stuntmen, but nothing could prepare him for staring down the sights of a rifle at another human being and preparing to end their life. For a split second he wasn't sure he could do it, but then he thought of Mbabelli cradling Mbeh's corpse and squeezed the trigger.

Nothing happened. "Shit," he muttered as he fumbled with the safety. There was a shout from his right. Someone had spotted him. The man in front of him whirled around, his eyes scanning the trees just as Alex got his finger back on the trigger. The man twisted as he fell, the spray of Alex's bullets ripping through his stomach, chest, and neck. The tree above Alex's head splintered apart as gunfire tore into it, forcing Alex back deeper into the jungle. Alex heard shouting and the sound of engines starting. He raced back to his motorcycle as another bike and a 4x4 drove passed him headded down the trail. He took off after them, trees rushing past him as he opened fire with his rifle. The bullets whizzed through the trees and shredded foliage, seeming to hit everything but the rider in front of him. When the clip was empty Alex tossed the useless weapon into the jungle. He fumbled with his bow while trying to keep an eye on the trail in front of him.

"I got this, I got this," he told himself as he struggled to get the arrow nocked. The path straightened out, and Alex gripped the bike tightly with his knees as he drew his bow with shaking hands and fired.

"Dammit!" The arrow missed low, sticking into the plastic jerrycan bungeed to the back of the bike. The acrid scent of gasoline filled his nostrils as they raced through the jungle, giving him an idea. He had to slow up to get his basket open. He snatched up an arrow, lit a flare, and hurriedly taped the two together. He aimed high, not wanting the shot to fall short from the extra weight. Too high. The arrow stuck the rider between the shoulder blades. The man screamed as the flint tore through his muscle and the flare burned his skin. He tumbled from his ride with a sickening crunch.

"Whoops."

They were almost to the clearing where he had left Mbabelli. He cranked the throttle wide open, racing to catch the 4x4. He was wondering if he could get close enough to drop the hand grenade in the backseat when the car swerved violently and slammed into a tree, the feathered end of an arrow shaft sticking through the driver's side window.

Mbabelli strode from the trees, his shoulders back and his bow drawn. He slowly approached the wreck, arrow leveled. Alex braked hard and leaped from the bike, his own bow at the ready as he cautiously approached. Something moved in the back seat. Before Alex could shout a warning, there was an explosion of glass and gunfire. Mbabelli was dead before he hit the ground. Alex didn't remember what he yelled. He was rushing forward as fast as his leg would let him, heart pounding in his ears. A young man stumbled from the wreck of the car, one arm hanging limply at his side, a pistol held in his other.

Alex was too slow. The first bullet hit him in his good leg, shattering his knee. The second splintered his bow before tearing through his bicep. He never felt the third bullet. It hit him in his right eye, ricocheting off his eye socket before exiting the back of his head behind his ear. He collapsed immediately, his brain unable to register what happened. He heard a car door slam, and keys fumbling in the ignition. Something warm was soaking into his hair.

"Sorry, Mbabelli. Looks like I won't be able to dance for you," he thought as his fingers closed around the grenade in his hand. He couldn't believe he was about to die. The engine revved, and Alex knew he only had a few seconds left to live. He took a deep breath of air, savoring the taste on his tongue, feeling it fill his lungs one last time, and pulled the pin.