I was heading towards the treeline to see if any wolves remained alive. I had six men with me wielding bats and gloves while about thirty feet back were another five people with stones, bottles and other improvised throwing weapons. Plus Xola with her bow. She was down to six arrows. But despite her age if anything surprised us we’d be grateful for her skills.

As we approached a small depression in the ground two wolves leapt out at us. Two of my men were down before I realised what was happening. My baseball bat rammed into one of the wolves just above the snout. I think the blow stunned it. It barely moved as a hit to the leg caused an audible crunch. Two more hits to the head caused it to stop moving completely. I looked towards the other wolf. Three arrows had peppered it while I was busy. Along with several golf club hits to the flanks and a cricket bat to the snout. It was also down.

I checked on the downed men. One had his throat torn out. The other had a gash across his gut but was still conscious. I did my best to bandage the wound and then ordered the two of the missile troops to take him back to the plane.

Afterwards we cautiously approached he little ravine. There was a litter of wolf pups at the bottom. They looked barely old enough to be weaned. So that’s why they were so vicious about defending this territory I thought wearily. Looking around I couldn’t see any more living threats. A couple looked like they had made it back before succumbing to their burn wounds. I looked back down the ravine and made a decision. It broke my heart but it would be more humane than letting the animals starve or be eaten by another predator.

“Mary, you said you grew up on a farm. Can you deal with these animals humanely?”

“No,” Xola shrieked, “we can keep them. They’ll be useful once we train them.”

“I’m sorry kid, but we don’t know how aggressive they’ll be once they’ve grown up. They’re not dogs.”

Mary then spoke up. “My knife isn’t very sharp. Cutting their throats isn’t going to be clean. I can try snapping their necks. But it might be easier to take them to the vet.”

“Fine. But if the vet can’t think of a better way to manage then find a sharper knife. But it needs to get done. I’ve got to update Major Reynolds of the situation. Please don’t fuck this up.”

The walk back to the plane took about ten minutes. The retired major was standing over an improvised table made from two bags. On top was a large sketchpad with what looked like a crudely drawn map of the valley. Three people were with him. One of the men looked to be in his sixties. The other was in his forties and the woman was in her thirties. They were all in civilian clothes; but their posture screamed a background in the military.

“Meacham, are the wolves dealt with?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good, good. This is retired Brigadier Robert Smith of the British Army, Captain William Morgan of the US Navy and Lieutenant Commander Samantha Jones of the Royal Navy. We’re organising two, let’s call them platoons, for reconnaissance. I know you lack command experience; but I’ve been impressed by your initiative and you’re one of the few people we have who has seen combat recently. I hope you’ll accept the position.”

I felt a bit intimidated. None of these people were in my chain of command. But I’ve spent enough years in service to know the difference between volunteering and being volunteered by your superiors.

“If no one else has better qualifications I’ll gladly accept, sir.” I croaked out.

“There is a senior NCO who’ll be assigned to your platoon as an advisor. He refused the position due to his age but I hope you’ll give his advice the consideration it deserves. And there are two junior officers from the navy and air force who declined because of lack of experience in ground combat.

The other platoon has more experienced leadership. A captain in the Royal Marines, a drill sergeant and the XO of a tank company. But his men are civilians with no wilderness experience. You’ll be getting the hikers, hunters and veterans.”

Passengers reported seeing a lake to this side of the valley,” he pointed to a crudely drawn blue oval. “The other platoon will take a team there to see if we can get fresh water and maybe an ice fishing station. You’ll have the more arduous job. Leading a team closer to the mouth of the valley to maybe find civilisation. I don’t want any stupid risks to be taken. You leave at dawn hike towards the valley mouth for six hours and come straight back. If you see anything vaguely resembling a threat don’t fight unless you’re forced to. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir.” At that point I was just about shitting myself from nerves.

“You can spend the rest of the day clearing the direct environs of the aircraft and doing drills with your team. I’ll task someone to make extra arrows. Though Xola will need to test them. “

“Yes sir. I’ll take them into the forest in a loop around the camp. Just to get used to the terrain, setting up a few snares for whatever game we can find in this season, and making sure they don’t shit themselves during the real operation.”

“Dismissed corporal.”

I turned and went out to gather my team.

It took them an hour to get ready. All of them were equipped with scavenged backpacks filled with rocks. It took some explaining; but the idea was the supplies they’d be carrying the next morning would be heavy and if they couldn’t keep up I’d prefer not to have to dump anything valuable. So we were doing drills using rocks. There was a lot of whining from the civilians, and some underhanded comments between the officers, but the greybeard with the military bearing backed me. That support gave me enough backbone to stand my ground.

The two officers were a retired captain, Alex Jefferies, who flew C-130s and a 2nd lieutenant, Siobhan O’Connell, on a Trident sub. The greybeard’s name was Jeffery Stein. He discharged as non-commissioned officer in charge of an infantry division fifteen years before. The rest of the platoon contained twelve individuals with experience in either hiking or hunting. Two Swedes with real hiking packs, a father son duo in stereotypical African explorer khakis, a few people in business casual who looked like they’d been caught traveling for work and a family of farmers on a once in a lifetime vacation. Added on to this were Xola, Sian and Jeremy. They had specifically asked to be part of my team and I was stupid enough to accept their request.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

The father son team came up to me. “Will we be back in time for the meeting tonight?” the boy, who looked to be in his late teens, asked.

“What meeting? “ I asked.

The potbellied father answered, “The one to stop this coup. A random brit just decided he’s taking over and everyone is following along. They’re stealing our property and handing it all out to their cronies. If we could just get our guns out of the hold it would be another story. Let me tell you.”

“You have guns?”

“We were doing a hunting safari down in Africa. They’re still in cases in the hold. My sister is back at camp making sure no one steals them while we’re away.” The son butted in.

“Those will be useful. I’m not sure what time this meeting is supposed to be. No one announced it.” I responded.

“Of course no one announced it. If we give them warning they’ll break it up.”

“I see. And why are you telling me then?”

“Because you’re one of our soldiers. If we can’t trust you who can we trust?”

“I’m a mar… you know what. Never mind. This hike will be over well before sundown. It shouldn’t take more than a half hour for grunts fresh out of basic. But I’ve budgeted three hours just in case the less athletic individuals have trouble.”

I kept quiet after that. I didn’t want to provoke a fight with these idiots. But I had my own guilt with the way the situation was being handled but it was obvious that a clear chain of command was better than every man for himself. And, at the end of the day, I was the person who recommended we requisition baggage. I hated myself for it; but I honestly believed a military style organisation was the most efficient way to make sure as many people survived as possible. Maybe I was wrong and people would have voted to ration out resources based on need; but I didn’t want to risk it.

The complaints started before we even reached the treeline. “The rocks are too heavy. Quiet we don’t want to wake anything up. Making noise is supposed to warn other animals we’re there so we don’t surprise them. Does that work with mutant wolves?”

I did my best DI impression. “Shut the fuck up. In the field I am in charge. If you disagree with that stay in camp. Otherwise, listen closely. We have no idea what’s in these woods. We’re only going about fifteen minutes in and then circling around. If any of you know how to set snares please do. I don’t know what we’ll catch in this weather. But anything is better than nothing. If you see berries or anything vaguely edible do not eat them. Tell me and I’ll mark down the location for when we figure out a way to test if they’re edible. If you see any animals don’t approach. And don’t run away. If it charges us our best bet is swarming it down. If we all break it’ll mean at least one of us is lunch. Since many of you aren’t hikers we’ll stop every fifteen minutes to rest. If you struggle at that pace please let me know. Tomorrow will be much worse and it’s better we leave people behind than risk losing anyone. Any questions?”

After the peanut gallery quieted down we headed into the trees. The first half hour was quiet. We saw signs of many weird creatures. But nothing obviously dangerous. Bark squirrels. An unfrozen pond full of glowing fish I had to warn everyone to stay away from. A cow sized frog that seemed to be dead, or possibly hibernating according to a hiker with an interest in wildlife who spoke of some amphibians hibernating in a frozen cocoon. And a pack of those shroom creatures which ran off after we found them feasting on a dead deer.

And then someone spotted a cave. I told everyone to avoid it since we had no idea what was in it. But the teenage African explorer ignored me and walked towards it with a stick held in front of him. I was about to go after him to drag him away when a lightning fast blur of white grabbed him and pulled him into the cave. His father chased after him heedless of the danger. Another blur came out and Xola launched one of her few remaining arrows it whatever it was. She missed and the elder hunter was also gone. For once I’m glad its winter, I thought.

Ten minutes later we were resting and I felt something crawl around my foot. I tried to get up and tripped as something yanked my foot as something dragged me across the ground. After several people started beating it released me. When I stood up I saw a vine slowly withdraw into a thicket. “It doesn’t seem very fast. It’s probably only a threat to sleeping things.” Xola said nervously.

A few after that a greasy looking young man in jeans and a t shirt said; does anyone remember which direction the plane is in? I think we’re going in circles.”

I sighed. A women in her twenties with a Swedish accent and hiking bag spoke up, “that’s normally a risk in the wilderness if you don’t have any landmarks. But the trees are thin enough we can see the mountains behind them.”

I then felt obligated to add, “And yes. We are going in a circle. We’re circling the plane to get an idea of the basic hazards.”

After that the only other casualty was someone stepping onto a large mushroom, releasing a cloud of spores and collapsing onto the ground with his mouth foaming. After the cave incident everyone stood well back. I don’t know how long it took him to die. But none of us were going to risk getting exposed. .

As soon as we reached camp a third of my team vanished into the ether. I doubted they’d be coming back for the scouting mission the next morning, Xola was called away to test her arrows while the rest of my team were given leave to take recover their bags from the hold and requisition any gear they might need from the common stockpile.

I went to give my report to Major Reynolds and his senior leadership. The other officers were gone. But they’d been replaced by a geologist, the vet and a few other people with possibly useful qualifications.

“The forest is covered in hazards we don’t know how to spot and at least half of the team should be kept back tomorrow. The senior NCO has arthritis. He wasn’t complaining; but he started limping halfway through. He can help manage the camp. Xola and her friends are too young and a few of the rest just don’t have the stamina. Three of our people died. Two to a monster in a cave and one to stepping on some sort of fungus. I think we need to ban any unnecessary travel into the forest. At this rate of attrition we’ll all be dead by summer. ”

Major Reynolds was quiet for a moment. “Corporal we have no choice; if we don’t find a reliable source of food we’ll be dead in a month. If we can make viable arrows you’ll need Xola’s skills and if we let her go we have to let the rest of the kids her age go as well.” he finally said. “Have you found anything promising on finding a reliable source of provisions?”

“We’ve set snares and we found several fruits but I have no idea what’s safe to eat. The berries are an icy blue and cold to the touch. Even if we can somehow cook them I don’t know if they’ll be poisonous. ”

“If your snares catch anything live we can bring it some food and see if it’s willing to touch it. It’s not the best test since a lot of animals can eat stuff we can’t; but it’ll have to be good enough.” Reynolds did not look very confident about his idea.

The vet looked like she wanted to butt in; but after she kept quiet I added, “There’s also a pond and a stream. The stream contains some sort of giant frog. It’s frozen and we have no idea if it’s dead or hibernating. But I don’t want to risk it. The pond is glowing blue. There are definitely fish. I don’t know if they’re causing the glow but the pond isn’t frozen. Maybe we can bring the water to our resident chemist to test. It’s obviously magical in some way.”

Reynolds groaned. “Magical? Ugh. Maybe we’ll get lucky and it’s the fountain of youth. I think you might need to set more snares. We’ll need a lot of animals for testing. Good work today. Is there anything else?”

“I’ve heard rumours of a meeting complaining about requisitions. The man who told me about it died in that cave incident.”

He nodded. “I was waiting for this. Of course I won’t fight against a democratic vote. But we need to be smart about this. I think people are scared enough they’ll go along with my plan to organise a committee to lead us. If not I hope you’ll support my replacement. The last thing we need is disunity.”

I kept my mouth shut. We were in a situation where hard choices would need to be made. If the meeting went badly I had no idea what I’d do. I didn’t want to dig myself in any deeper.