The Vladivostok Incident

Chapter 4

The Art of Trapping

A low bark from down the road caused the two men to jump. With the light of the moon, they could see a medium sized, four legged animal sprinting towards them. Before he could react, it leapt right at Shelton. He raised his hand to protect his face and jumped to his feet. Luckily, the dog didn't bite; it only licked his arm and face until he was drenched. He grabbed the dog's panting face and was shocked to see a familiar brown eared Akita staring back at him. "Bonaparte?" he questioned, completely stunned to see the dog all the way out there.

Softer footsteps edged their way closer to the two men. They looked towards the noise to see a figure, its identity hidden by the shadows and distance. As it neared, the outline of a weapon at its side made the two men freeze. Shelton had been knocked onto his bottom by Bonaparte; the dog continued to lick his face happily, and the weight prevented him from any quick movements. Andrei eased himself to his feet. If it was the Chinese, Andrei was prepared to lead the single enemy astray. He took in a heavy breath and approached the figure. Shelton merely watched, confused.

The approaching figure never slowed its stride even after it saw Andrei. The closer it got, the more came into view; a flak jacket, snow camouflage pants, a heavy scarf, a wool cap which covered most of the skull, and two guns – one side arm, one assault rifle. Much like Rex and his men, this new person had no visible insignia so Andrei assumed it was a friendly. The same was clearly the feeling of the newcomer, who continued its pace until it was inches from Andrei. Shrouded by the scarf, all of the soldier's features were hidden except a pair of wide, brilliantly shining eyes. The scarf was pulled down by a gloved hand to reveal a set of soft features and painted lips.

"I need to speak with the Commandant," she demanded.

Shelton, having heard a woman's voice, tried to see around Andrei. A woman as a soldier, right, Shelton snorted to himself. It was impossible to tell under all the garments she wore; as far as her body was concerned, any noticeable assets would not have been visible. Going just off of her facial features, Shelton concluded before them was either a very effeminate man or a woman.

Andrei, while a little surprised at the presence of a woman, merely smiled at her and shrugged. "Who am I to deny a woman a sensible demand? Come on," he waved for her to follow. As the two passed Shelton, the woman shot a disapproving glare at the young, disheveled man being licked to death. The glare was enough for Shelton to decide quickly he didn't like the woman; his dislike continued the moment she finished her brief conversation with Rex. The short man shouted with that bark of a voice, "Get up and roll out!" In other words: there's no time to sleep.

Squashed in between a whining Antanas and a warm, furry Bonaparte, Shelton ended up catching a few winks of sleep in an armored vehicle. Exhausted, there was no cogs moving that could project terrifying memories, so he enjoyed a deep sleep. This lasted about an hour. The vehicles took a zigzag course west and didn't end up too far from their original location. They had halted in the middle of nowhere. Nothing was in their sights except trees. Everyone was woken again, lined up and shivering in the night. Shelton had barely managed to keep his eyes open and found himself losing interest in what was being bellowed from Rex's loud mouth.

"Trapper!" Rex barked at the group.

The dopey soldier hopped up to the front and yapped, "Yessir!"

"Take a partner and scout half a mile ahead," he ordered.

Antoine let a sly smile spread across his face. He placed a strong hand onto Shelton's brown skull and said, "Sure thing, boss!" Shelton didn't even register that he had been picked. In fact, he had no clue at all what was going on. Had he fallen asleep standing up? Before he had a chance to question anything, a flak jacket was tossed over his head. As he adjusted it to his body, he never once thought the purpose of it. Instead of realizing the jacket was in case they got into a shootout, he thought they were just trying to keep him warm in the freezing temperatures. Antoine's hand found its way back onto Shelton's head. The two made eye contact and Shelton realized his choice had been made for him and his first test was that night's scouting mission.

He didn't think anything of it. The moon was bright and the stars were completely free from obstruction, which meant their path was lit naturally. Whether it was because he was tired or just not understanding, Shelton wasn't afraid of an enemy attack or ambush. Keeping warm was his main concern; he kept trying to cuddle his arms close to his body in order to stay warm. Antoine, who was shoeless and in a lighter jacket, didn't even notice the icy air and frozen ground. In fact, despite the rifle he carried, Shelton would find it difficult to believe he was a soldier. Antoine walked without reserve and was overly noisy at times. He made it looked more like a stroll in the park instead of a scouting mission. Not five minutes after they left the others, Antoine had nearly talked Shelton's ears off.

"So you wanna go into space?" he asked Shelton. It had started with a question about his life in Tynda, and what he could gain by going back. When Shelton told about his quest for an aerospace engineering degree, Antoine became interested. "What do you want to do up there?"

"Well my original plan involved a girl so –"

"Mistake number one: never plan your life around another person, my brother," Antoine interrupted.

"I figured that one out already," sighed Shelton. Antoine passed a glance over his shoulder; Shelton caught his brown eyes and spoke louder. "I wanted to go to the Jovian sector, to help with the mining colony there."

"All the way out there, huh? What's wrong with the moon? You must not like Earth too much," joked Antoine.

"I do!" Shelton defended right away. He realized how childish that must have sounded and quieted down.

Antoine went to respond but suddenly stopped and put his arm out to halt Shelton. Then he knelt on the ground and eyed it closely. Shelton was confused. What was so interesting that he couldn't see? Antoine stood and broke off a branch just above his head; it was about five to seven centimeters thick and could give a man a beating if used right. Without delay, the he stab the ground with the branch. It snapped completely in half.

Shelton looked over Antoine's shoulder to see that the flooring had been moved and an iron foothold trap. "Aren't those kind of outdated?" Shelton questioned.

"No way!" Antoine argued. "They may have been used in antiquity, but they have their advantages. Things like mines and more conventional, so the cronies in uniform have ways to detect them. No one suspects they'll run into a cuff or a snare. All you have to do is give it a set of sharp teeth and you're all set." Antoine stepped over the discarded trap and waved for Shelton to follow him. "We're right on the edge of Chinese territory, so they scout this area pretty often. There are two more traps along this path before we should be clear."

"What if we find an enemy?"

"Caught?"

"Yeah."

"He'll probably be dead," Antoine stated.

For whatever reason, Shelton dismissed the thought. Confident that they would not find a dead soldier, he strolled alongside Antoine until they found another trap. There was no soldier in sight. "How can you tell where the traps are if you didn't set them up?" he asked Antoine, curious about the art of trapping.

"Check this out," Antoine explained as he pointed to where the trap was. Shelton saw nothing out of the ordinary. Under the moonlight he could see the typical foliage and debris that would be present on any forest floor. It was uneven, but that was the case everywhere. Nothing seemed artificial or manufactured. In fact, if he had turned around and looked at a spot not a meter away, he wouldn't have been able to tell the difference. "There's more dirt in this little itty bitty spot compared to the rest of the ground. The bump over the left here is a bit too high. Most people would assume it to be a burrowing animal's den, but with the way it's angled and dips here, you can almost see the outline of the cuff."

Shelton was impressed with the critical eye Antoine had for spotting traps. Then again, that's probably why he was nicknamed Trapper. The two carefully avoided the foothold and moved closer to Chinese occupied East Russia. After walking for several minutes in silence, Shelton had to ask why Antoine didn't wear any shoes. "Uh," he stammered at first. It took another over the shoulder glance by Antoine to convince him to continue. "Not to be a nosey prick, but why don't you wear shoes? Does it help you as a trapper or something?"

Antoine let out a hearty laugh and said, "Nope! These babies are secondhand artificial limbs!"

"Artificial? You mean like the ZLAL-G5?"

"I don't know what the hell that is," Antoine sighed, having heard nothing be a bunch of gibberish. "If you want to take a look at them, you're more than welcome to."

"Absolutely!" Shelton cried, his mind excited over the chance to finally examine a real artificial limb. "Did you lose your legs in a war?"

"What? Uh, no," Antoine admitted. "I've never been in the military."

"Huh? Then why are you with the Commandant?"

"To tell the truth, I'm not even from the Confederacy. Hell, I've never even set foot on the Americas. I'm a Lunarian."

"You're from the moon?"

"That's what I said."

"How did you get down here? And to know the Commandant?"

"You sure ask a lot of questions, don't you? You remind me of my little brother. He would be about the same age as you… if he was still alive."

The conversation came to a sudden halt. Shelton quickly realized he was being too nosey, and had accidently started to tread on personal territory. It made the next couple of minutes a little awkward, but by that time the cold air was starting to choke him. Since warmth was more important, Shelton eventually forgot about the conversation ever taking place. He was completely focused on his body temperature until Antoine stopped and gave the area a quick look.

Antoine muttered something under his breath before taking a spot a couple paces ahead. "This doesn't look anything like a foothold," he said aloud. Shelton was curious, so he took a position near Antoine. "Hand me a stick, please," he asked. Despite his broken arm, Shelton managed to break off a decent sized tree branch. Antoine thanked him and then quickly surveyed the area. He concluded it wasn't a mine right away, but what else could it be? In a rush and without much thought, he decided to test the trap with the tree limb. It clicked, but nothing happened to the stick.

Shelton was so focused on his excitement of witnessing another branch being snapped he failed to realize it wasn't a foothold at all. When nothing happened, Antoine removed the stick off the pad. The moment the pressure from the branch was removed a whizzing sound screeched right by Antoine; almost instantly, Shelton jumped and grabbed his right arm as a burning sensation gripped hold of his wound. It didn't take the trapper long to figure out what happened.

"Oh s**t! Oh s**t!" he repeated several times. Harshly he yanked the injured arm over to him and tried to get a view of it under the moonlight. The projectile had only grazed Shelton's arm, fortunately, but the skin had already started to deteriorate rapidly. It felt as though the arm was on fire. Shelton was shocked motionless as he watched his own arm slowly ebb away. Antoine realized if he didn't act quickly, the young man's entire arm would be gone. There wasn't enough time to take him all the way back to the others. He removed his survival knife from its sheath at his belt and without any worry of what Shelton thought, skinned his arm.

Shelton voiced his displeasure with a loud moan of pain and a string of curses which ended in, "Are you f*****g crazy?!"

Antoine didn't respond and instead picked Shelton up and carried him piggyback style back down the trail. His mind was racing faster than his legs. In an attempt to draw in the others for help, he shot off a burst of his rifle. As for the man on his back, he was screeching in Antoine's ear. Whatever touched his arm was eating away at it in a moderate pace. What remained of the skin was the color of rotten plums, and the muscle tissue was disappearing as well. It was an indescribable pain for Shelton. It felt as though each atom in his flesh was being burnt to a crisp. If he had ever wondered in his life what burning alive would feel like, he had an idea at that moment.

The roar of the IFVs and the jeep roused Antoine and he began to shout for help. The jeep met them first. Rex took Shelton from him and set him down on the vehicle's hood. "What happened? Were you attacked?" he asked.

"No, sir!" Antoine answered. "But whoever set those God damned traps up wasn't one of us!"

"Can we f*****g argue about this later?!" Shelton screamed. Rex roughly grasped the injured arm; the wire like tissue of the muscle was faded, leaving spots of bone visible.

The woman from earlier appeared from behind Rex and calmly ordered, "Bite this." She shoved a piece of leather into Shelton's mouth and he automatically did as told. Through the pain he reminded himself to remain calm no matter how much he wanted to thrash, and he felt as though he was doing a good job. Needless to say, it came as a surprise when he was suddenly being pinned down against the jeep's hood by several grown men. When the moon's light reflected off a knife, he realized what was about to happen.

"Oh hell no –"

The piece of leather fell out of his mouth, but the lady placed it back in right away. "Please remain calm," she asked of him. He didn't move, but his panic was obvious; coupled with the pain, his terror shone through when his breathing became erratic and his blue eyes scanned the area in an attempt to not tear up in fright.

Just above his elbow a sharp ache shot up his arm and to his brain. Suddenly, the piece of leather became his best friend as he snapped his teeth onto it in an attempt to channel the pain. The metal of the knife froze his skin completely; it sawed back and forth, each little movement another agony he had to suffer. The knife wielder applied immense pressure, resulting in the knife half cutting, half ripping its way through the flesh, muscle, and blood vessels. It lasted for an eternity until it hit the bone, where it chipped his arm's frame before the sawing became more intense. The sting of the metal knife became a throb; the pain intensified to a height he could no longer bear. With a strong push, he tried to get away, only to find himself completely restrained.

Tears had welled up in his eyes to the point where they poured out over and stained his cheeks. Normally, he would try his best not to cry in front of others, but the sensation of the knife against the bone had been more than he could handle. The intensity of the pain had blocked out most of his senses; he heard the woman trying to calm him down and felt the slight pat of her hand against his head, but aside from that he wasn't aware of anything besides his right arm. In some ways, he was happy he couldn't hear much. He imagined the grunts, muffled cries and moans of pain weren't a pleasant thing to hear.

The intruder was half way through the bone when the pressure suddenly stopped. Drool had leaked out of his mouth and gave the impression he was a rabid dog. His lungs were ready to collapse from the workout of fighting the ache. Even though the knife was no longer sawing, he couldn't stand the deep throb that was coming from his arm. Just when he thought he would regain his sense a little, the knife reentered, this time much more forceful. It ended up snapping the bone entirely. Shelton reeled harshly from the pain.

All pressure from his body was removed and he opened his eyes. Discarded, the leather piece landed just to the side of his head. Through his tears he saw a severed arm being pulled away – his severed arm. Adrenaline finally kicked in and the wound became numb. Yet his psyche couldn't handle the sight of his own limb being carried away, and coupled with the previous torture, he felt his stomach begin to lurch its contents.

He had begun to roll off the hood of the jeep when he was caught and held by Andrei. He still puked, except it ended up all over the older man's shoes. Blood loss, shock and pain combined to send his body into convulsions. "Hey, hey!" Andrei shouted. He didn't know what to do about the shaking, sweating man in front of him so he just kept his arms around him. Shelton was barely still coconscious. Andrei's shouts sounded far, far away and his vision had become so blurry he was unable to tell where he was. Where am I? he asked himself. Strength disappeared and he slumped over against Andrei. "Don't die on me, kid," Andrei said.

"I'm going to die?" the confused Shelton managed to mutter.

There was no response. A needle had been plunged into his neck, sedating him into unconsciousness.