Fortunate Sons

Chapter 21: The Jungle Creeps and a Friend Heals

Taylor stumbled to a halt, dropping his weapon and falling to his knees in exhaustion. His chest and sides hurt, his limbs ached and his head spun from the rush of his escape. He had begun to worry that he had run too far, leaving everybody else at the mercy of the creature.

He sank against the trunk of the tree, out of breath and totally spent with an awful burning pain in his thigh. He'd had enough. I'm done......I'm totally done.....Taylor thought to himself.

He didn't want to run anymore. Taylor was damn near sick of running. Running from fear, running from the North and from whatever the war had thrown at him. His strength was spent and his wits were frayed down to the last bits. Taylor feared that if he kept it up any longer, he'd be dead.

Taylor turned his eyes up to the overcast sky tinted a deep silver purple with streaks of yellow and blue in its endless swirls of clouds. A single tear ran forth from his eye, trailing down his fair cheek to the ground below. When.....when would this senseless war and all its violent horrors end? Would he ever be able to rest?

He jumped when he heard the crunch of a stick close by, drawing the sidearm from its holster at his side and aiming it for the tall grass. He had expected to be chased once more by the black dog, but something else emerged from the bushes.

The figure was that of a man, tall and as black as freshly dug earth. Like Taylor, he wore the traditional army greens and heavy combat boots on his feet. Part of a deep red bandana peeked out from underneath his helmet while at his side he concealed a machete in its thick, leather sheath. The man may have appeared menacing, but something told Taylor that he meant no harm.

"On your feet mon," he said. "Come......on your feet."

"I'm so tired," Taylor said as he lowered his weapon, his voice only a small whisper in the jungle breeze. "I can't go on like this."

The man knelt beside Taylor and looked him dead in the eyes. "You must," he said. "You have to."

The man's eyes were suddenly cast down at Taylor's leg. Deep splotches of red and black had pooled onto his thigh and a ghastly hole from which the blood flowed forth.

"Bullet?"

Taylor shook his head. "Must've happened when I fell into the ravine."

The man removed his helmet and the bandana from his head, tying it around Taylor's thigh. "You're lucky to be alive mon amie," the man told him. "A fall like that can kill a man."

"Seems like I've been doing too much of that these days," Taylor said as the man helped fix his leg. "Mind my asking which platoon you're with?"

"None," the man replied.

"You with the SEALS?" Taylor asked. "Marines maybe?"

"I have served with many, yes," the man replied. "But I do not serve with one army."

"You some kind of mercenary?"

"Non mon amie," the man said.

"Then who are you?"

"I am surprised at you Taylor Boisfontaine," the man chuckled as he doused the wound with some water from his canteen. "You should know me as you know yourself. I have been with you from the beginning. I watched you go from a boy into a man, a soldier who put his life on the line for his men when he didn't have to."

"Ogun?"

"Aye mon," the man answered.

Taylor was in disbelief. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever think that he would encounter one of the most intimidating of all the loa in a place so awful they might as well have called it hell. "Ogun......" he said. "I'm so sorry."

"Whatever you are sorry for, 'tis not your doing," Ogun assured him. "You were only doing what was asked of you. Papa has told me that all of you have seen things no man should have ever seen. You are tired and war-weary. That is why he sent me to you. I will help you with your mission.....but you have to trust me."

"I trust you," Taylor said.

Ogun picked Taylor up onto his feet, slinging one arm over his huge shoulders and carrying him back through the woods.

It was a long, hard walk for Taylor but eventually they got back to where they needed to be. He finally caught sight of the others, just as he and Ogun were coming into their view.

"Where the hell have you been?!"

"We've been looking for you for hours man!"

"You look like absolute horseshit."

"Guys, guys I'm fine," Taylor told them. "Just got a bit spooked and took off in a bad direction."

"What was it? A VC soldier?" Mitch asked.

Taylor shook his head. "Looked like a black dog," he replied. "Red eyes and everything."

Mitch, Dix and the others were intrigued, confused and concerned all at once. From the way Taylor described this creature, they were sure it had been the same one they had encountered the night of the attacks. The red eyes and the black fur they had felt was a sure giveaway that this was the very same creature.

"You sure?" Dix asked him.

"Dix if I wasn't sure I wouldn't have told you," Taylor replied. "I'm being dead serious. That thing is after us, but I don't know why."

"Aye mon, your friend is right," Ogun said to Dix. "We need to catch it before it catches us."

"You got a trap or something we can use?"

"Maybe not in the sense of a cage," Ogun said. "But maybe the way we trap this creature isn't the way you would think."

"How then?"

"We use the jungle to our advantage," Ogun replied. "There is not a thing here we will not be able to use against the enemy."

"So you say but who's also to say they won't be able to use the jungle against us?" Dix enquired.

Ogun gave a low chuckle and shook his head. "I'm surprised at you mon," he said to Dix. "You have forgotten what sort of power you hold. If you gain the upper hand then there is no hope for the enemy. Gain that hand and they can never use anything against you."

Dix was skeptical that even his own powers would be able to do anything. He wondered if he was just fooling himself or if Ogun was indeed right.