FEBRUARY 1944,
SOUTH PACIFIC
Even as the last of the daylight faded, they dared not move for fear of alerting the beast outside the cave.
Every so often they would hear the sound of the monster pacing back and forth, waiting, watching for when they might poke their heads out. Eventually sounds faded, giving the impression of safety, but they did not trust it. It had proven far too intelligent to underestimate. Bucky cringed at not being able to help his friend, but for the time being at least, the Japanese soldier who had brought them to this cave had not shown any sign of hostility. Despite the ongoing war, it seemed that the needs of their immediate survival trumped any notions of taking up the fight of their respective nations.
When darkness had overtaken the cave, and enough time had passed, the Japanese soldier eased his caution and crept warily over to the crevice, nothing more but a faint sheen of moonlight to reveal his fearful eyes. Bucky had seen the same care taken by men checking for snipers. After a few silent moments, he backed away and slumped against the wall, clearly relieved.
"Hey…" Rogers spoke from where he lay, gritting his teeth from the pain, barely visible in the shadow. "Thank you."
The soldier turned his head and nodded with a grunt.
Adrenaline would eventually wear off, leaving its sibling exhaustion to take hold of them. Each man settled into their own nook; the warm air thick with moisture without a breeze to carry the heat away.
It took Steve longer than he would have liked to fall asleep; some feature of his improved physiology that wasn't a total blessing. He listened to the jungle noises, outside, the chatter of insects, the call of birds, even a strange hissing sound that came close to investigate for a minute, before disappearing as well.
Morning came abruptly. A rage-filled roar jolted the men awake from their slumber with such fear that they instinctively scrambled back against the wall. There followed sounds of struggle, snapping branches, thundering footsteps, and the distinctive cry of a second creature. Glancing amongst themselves, Steve moved over to the crevice to see what was going on outside. The soldier laid a hand on him to keep him back, but Rogers assured him with a gesture before crawling towards the light. When he peeked through the crack, his eyes grew wide, taking in a vision that should not have been possible in the modern age.
A new creature had its back to him, low on four legs and armored like a living tank with a dorsal carapace and a weighted tail like a bony morning star. Standing opposed to this burly beast, was the monster that had chased them into the cave, the swimming dinosaur with frightening cunning.
The two prehistoric titans were squared-off, snarling at one another as they postured for dominance. Then with surprising agility, the quadruped shifted around to its left, matched in turn by the saurian as they continued the standoff.
The Japanese soldier and Bucky each found a portion of the crack to peer out from, marveling with open mouths.
"Apceros," The Nihongo (*Japanese) said, pointing to the new one.
With a wailing snort, the bulky beast charged, attempting to use its plated pate to drive the predator back. In response, the saurian tried to bite down on his foe's back, but in the chaos of primal fury, the two simply began a wrestling match of fang and claw. They came apart, a spiked club swinging wide at the legs of the biped, but too slow to land. The saurian lifted its foot and brought it down on the tail's midsection, pinning it to the ground.
Smart move. Rogers thought.
"Gojira," The stranger said with a quiver in his voice, pointing to the predator, fear apparent on his face. "Densetsu no monsuta, Gojira."
Gojira tried then to bite down on the Apceros' head, but bony spikes jutting from either cheek prevented a solid hold. Eventually, the quadruped muscled its way out from underneath, and once more faced-off with Gojira. Both roared, rearing back only to charge again. This time, Apceros managed to put its weight behind the surge and forced Gojira to give ground until they both disappeared into the brush. A few moments later, the sound of crashing water and angry cries could be heard, letting them know that one or both of the behemoths had fallen into the river.
"You know, Buck…" Cap began as they settled back down. "If it weren't for our company here, I'd think we were sent a lot farther than just another hemisphere."
"Speaking of which…" Now that they seemed to have a chance to breathe and were rested, Bucky gestured to the Nihongo. "Hey, can you understand us?"
The man looked him up and down, cautious in his own right as to how things could go down between them.
"Amerikahito?" He asked.
"Yeah, Yeah, we're American's," Steve confirmed. "I recognize your uniform, you're a pilot," He pointed to the man and then used his hand to make a flying gesture. "You. Fly."
The Nihongo looked down at his clothes and nodded with some surprise at being figured out. "Hai."
"He must have crashed here," Cap realized. "Stuck just like we are. Where are- "
Before Cap could finish his question, the pilot dashed over to where a badly damaged rucksack sat in a corner of the chamber. He dug in, searching for something.
Both Steve and Bucky immediately began looking for something to defend themselves with, fearing that a knife or gun might emerge from the pack.
Fortunately, nothing worse was pulled out than a small book. He flipped through a few pages until he found what he was looking for.
"Boat," He said sharply, pointing to the Americans. "You… boat?"
Rogers shook his head. "No."
Hearing this left the pilot confused and dejected, hope for rescue struck down.
It was then that Cap noticed the corner of a map sticking out of the bag, he pointed towards it to alert the pilot and grabbed for it. He laid it on the floor where the light touched down, allowing them all to see a map of the southern pacific.
"Where are we?" Steve asked, circling his finger around the sheet.
Something clicked in the pilot's mind, and he leaned over on his hands and knees, searching the map with his eyes. Finally, he tapped a point. "Koko ni," He said.
Cap and Bucky leaned down to see an island more or less isolated by hundreds of miles of ocean from the nearest land.
"La-gos," The pilot identified. "Lagos."
"Lagos Island?" Bucky questioned aloud. "Never heard of it."
"Me neither, Buck," Rogers said back, trying to think through to a solution. "We have no communication, no reinforcements, and a jungle of monsters and HYDRA agents."
"How're we gonna get out of this one, Cap?"
Rogers exhaled and shook his head slightly. "I'm not sure. But for right now I think we need to understand our situation better." He thought for a moment, glancing over to the pilot. After a second, he extended his right hand and patted his chest with his left. "Steve Rogers."
The pilot was slow to accept the handshake, partially because he didn't recognize the gesture at first. Steve repeated his name and waited.
Warily, the man reached out and took a light grip of the hand. "Hisakawa Hansuke," He said.
Recalling a few of the briefs he'd received on events in the war's Pacific theater and the major players on the Axis side, Steve remembered that Japanese naming conventions placed the surname before the given. About now, it finally struck Cap how young the man really was, young 20's by the look, but terror and strife had clearly taken its toll on him.
"Alright Hansuke, where is your plane?" Using his finger, Rogers traced the outline of a plane in the dirt on the floor, then pointed at him.
Hansuke thought for a moment, then began shaking his head. Adding to the pictogram, he drew a wavy line with trees on one side, and smaller waves on the side of the plane. Mimicking the hand motion from before, he used a flat hand to simulate his plane descending from the air and crashing into the water. "Amerika no hentai ni sōgū shita nochi, watashi wa sentai kara hanaremashita. Hikōki ga hason shi, nabigēshon kiki ga hason shimashita. Nenryō ga nakunaru gen'in tsudzuke, kono shima o mitsukemashita. Watashi wa kaigan kara kurasshu otoshi, mochihakobi dekiru mono o subete koko de oyogimashita."
"Well I guess that rules out trying to salvage anything from his wreckage," Barnes remarked. "And we didn't bring anything with us except your shield."
"Which I promptly lost…" Steve grimaced. "Among other things I have to get that back."
Barnes bumped him in the arm, "Are you feeling up to it?"
Cap exercised his shoulders, biting back a sting of pain, "Little better than yesterday, but good enough for now. We also need food and freshwater." He turned to Hansuke and made some universal gestures of food and drink.
Again, Hisakawa shook his head, "Kokode wa naku, betsu no basho ga arimasu." He said, pointing out of the cave.
"He's right, we can't stay here," Rising to his feet derived a grunt from Rogers, "Zola is the only one who understands how we got here, we've got to find him, he may be able to figure out a way to get us off."
The men looked among each other before Bucky spoke up, "That's if he's even still alive."
Elsewhere…
Exhausted, terrified, and injured, the remnants of the HYDRA squad and Arnim Zola stumbled through the brush, flinching at every sudden noise. Rifles trembled in their hands as they scanned the dense surroundings half-expecting another terrible bird to come charging out. Most had removed their masks to accommodate the humidity, their outfits torn and dirtied during the flight away from the monster. Five soldiers were all that was left, a few others having lost themselves since dispersing from the Americans, presumed gone for good in this nightmare island as far as Zola was concerned.
Though he usually paid no mind to the identity of whatever HYDRA soldiers were attached to him, the circumstances made prudent that he familiarize himself with these men. He had picked up their first names, Hans, Heinrich, Dietmar, Luitger, and Oskar.
For his part, Arnim was more exhausted then he thought physically possible. The constant fear of being caught unawares by some monstrosity was all that enabled him to keep putting one foot in front of the other. After their encounter with the savage fowl, there had been the auditory evidence of more things lurking in the bush, be they large or small.
Despite being only somewhat familiar with the field of paleontology, he knew full well that this island was an anachronism. A very serious proposition began to metastasis in his mind, that the chronometer in his machine had been mis-calibrated, traversing them through the 4th dimension of time. The thought shocked him as barely even plausible, but nonetheless, here he was.
Translated from German
"Doctor! Look at this!"
The call came from the front of the group, Hans, his voice filled with excitement and urgency, stifled though it was for the sake of security. Zola trudged forward past the others until he found the soldier and what had caused his outburst and marveled at what he found.
Standing among the ferns with small vines clinging to its surface, was a stone monolith about twice his height, and covered in some ideographic language he had never seen before. Among the various glyphs were equally sized depictions of creatures. Among them he found the bird-monster, recognizable by its distinctive posture, beak shape, and feather crest. Judging by the state of the stone and its accumulation of grime, it could have been thousands of years old as far as he could tell.
"What do you think it means?" The soldier asked, fascinated by the artifact.
"Archeology is not my field…" Zola began, going over the carven images with his hand. "It could mean anything."
"Maybe there could be primitive peoples here…" Heinrich mused out loud, "The kind that kills outsiders on sight."
"-or sacrifice them to their savage gods!" Luitger proposed.
Dietmar gaped, "How could people live in such a dangerous place?"
"What about these other ones? If the birds are here, why not that one?" Oskar pointed to a figure that resembled, funnily enough, a squirrel with its body shape and wide tail. But in place of the mammalian head, was a serpentine one. There was something about the slit eye and devilish orbital horns that caused Arnim's nervous system to shudder.
"There's more!" The group rushed to where a sweat-drenched Heinrich stood on a low wall of tan stone, which itself was decorated with dark painted patterns. Only four-feet tall, the others were able to brace against the top and gaze past.
"It's a whole civilization…" Zola gasped. They're nestled in a valley and overgrown with jungle, was a village of low stone buildings forgotten by time. Reaching up the slopes were structures that appeared to be of greater status, homes of those higher in society or perhaps functional, like a temple. It stretched beyond their range of vision, the farthest aspects of it disappearing in the foliage. Most of the surfaces, however, sported a similar art style to the pillar, depicting creatures and man side-by-side.
"Like the ruins of the Aztecs," Oskar muttered.
"Indeed," Zola agreed. "Makes one wonder what happened to these people. Where have they gone?"
The men glanced among themselves, fearing the conclusion of Occam's Razor might befall them as well.
They continued into the lost city, keeping wary eyes on avenues of approach, weapons at the ready. Save for the structures themselves, there seemed to be no archeological remains, as if the denizens had packed everything not made of stone and departed to their unknown fate. Zola found it unsettling to not find any evidence of the people beyond their paintings. If the monsters overran them, then where are their belongings? He wondered.
They traveled along what could be analogs to an avenue, in between semi-regularly arranged one-story buildings. Opposed to other ancient homesteads, these did not appear to be made from dried clay, but rather slabs of the tan stone moved into place and bonded at the joints with mortar. From an engineering standpoint it was impressive work for a society without the resources of the Greeks, Egyptians, or Babylonians, Arnim thought, mused to himself as he ran a palm over the etching of a moth-shaped figure.
It was while he was examining the prehistoric work that he noticed the shadow pass over his forearm. With a startled gasp he looked to the sky but saw nothing of concern. Nonetheless, he could not shake the feeling of alarm, a part of his brain leftover from the days of his early ancestors refusing to be silent, warning him that a predator was near. Don't trust your eyes. It told him. Run and hide.
"Don't fall behind, doctor," Dietmar said, snapping him out of his hyper-focus. He jostled Arnim with an elbow, ushering him to catch up with the others. "This is a good place to set-up a secure camp. That way we're not out in the open."
"Ah… Yes," Zola nodded, fixing his glasses and getting a grip on his nerves. The hard shelter would make them all feel much safer he imagined. "But I still don't know how we're going to get out of here. If this isn't the right island, then we're stuck."
"I think after a good rest, we can actually get a solid plan-"
As Dietmar spoke, the words slowly drifted away for Arnim as he became suddenly transfixed by a shape moving in the corner of his vision. Descending from the sky with wide wings.
An ear-splitting shriek caused all the men to freeze in place, and it was in that moment of surprise and indecision that the creature struck. In an instant, Dietmar was snatched off the ground in a pair of talons, the savage avian with twin cranial sails snapping at Oskar in a quick attempt to score a second morsel. The sheer force of the wind from its wings knocked Zola and the others over, leaving them unable to get a solid hit as they fired wildly after the beast. A second, maybe two was all the time it had taken to make off with one of them in a blur of white and blue.
"GET INSIDE!" Heinrich screamed, scrambling to his feet and heading up the slope. The rest were a moment behind him, grabbing Zola by the arm and hauling him to his feet. "We'll head for that one!" Shouted the man leading the charge. Up the incline was one of the important-looking buildings that had the fortunate situation of having a number of trees to cover their movement along the way. Though the safety of the building was close enough to reach in seconds, to them it felt much longer, like moving under enemy fire.
They passed through the entrance pillars and piled into the chamber, continuing to the other side to put as much distance between them and the outside as possible. The space was larger than they had realized, carved out of the hillside rock to create a dome some twenty feet above. Outside, the screech of the flying monster was heard once more, possibly trying to ferret out more targets.
As Arnim lay on his side, his chest heaving to catch his breath he thought back to the reports about the security of the island where HYDRA had hidden their base. Of course, there had been no accounts of monsters and ancient ruins. But his positioning calculations had been perfect, he'd been sure of it, this had to be the island.
A kernel of a new thought began to form in his mind, a new theory to fit the data: if this was the right island, and they had not been displaced in time, then there remained a startling conclusion. He was still pondering the implications when he heard someone say something so unexpected, it broke his train of thought.
"The planets…"
"Wha...?" The doctor shook his head and found that Hans had his neck craned towards the ceiling, staring gobsmacked at the artwork that adorned the concave roof. Much to Arnim's own bewilderment, there was indeed an illustration of the solar system carved into the stone, faded traces of paint still to be seen in the deeper cuts. Though he was well familiar with the arrangements of the planets, there was something about what he was seeing that felt strange despite all seemingly normal, the sun in the middle, the planets arranged in concentric rings.
That's it! He realized. The model is heliocentric! With nine planets! Pluto had only been discovered in 1930. He counted the orbs again, then a third time, confirming to his astonishment a modern representation of their sibling planets.
A woosh of air preceded the angry shrieking of the flying beast. It came down low and straight under the canopy, aiming for the opening between the columns. Keen eyes found the men in the chamber and it reached its hungry beak for the closest, latching into Hans by the leg. Man and monster screamed as he was dragged on his stomach, only his fervent kicks to the creature's face managing to forestall the inevitable.
Oskar, his combat instincts overcoming his primal fear, positioned to the side of the monster's head, raised his weapon and emptied the magazine. Round after round sunk into the creature's neck and skull, the man loosing a war cry of his own even after the last bullet had fired. Finally, the beak collapsed to the stone ground, the side of its face a mangled bloody mess. The other soldiers rushed forward to pry open the beak and free their comrade's leg, pulling him back to find it broken at the knee. A few final twitches were all the monster had left, its glossy eyes rolling back in the socket.
We are going to die here. Zola realized, shuffling his back against the opposite wall and pulling his knees into his chest. For all the mystery and wonder this place had to offer, the only thing he now understood he and his men were going to receive here, was death.
PRESENT DAY, NEW YORK CITY
I don't know why I can't get it out of my head. Maybe it's just my typical bane of dwelling on the past. Maybe there's some meaning my subconscious is trying to get me to understand. Maybe I just feel like there some business left unfinished.
Rolling the roll of tape over his hand, Steve Rogers went through the familiar motion of wrapping the ribbon of fabric into a protective brace. Deciding to destress with a session in the gym, his mind would not relent in its dredging of old memories. He exhaled a sigh, satisfied with his work and approached the heavy bag.
I left a lot behind on that island. Things I wish I could do differently. Hansuke was one of them. Despite being on opposite sides of the war, I respected him as a soldier, and I think he did the same. We wouldn't have survived that place if not for him. He was a good man.
Rogers started out at a slow pace, a few body shots mixed with a jab on every fourth beat, controlling his breath, eyes focused on the bag. Steadily the tempo increased, the impact of each blow shuddering with greater power.
But as bad as I thought it was. It was only going to get worse.
Lagos,1944
It was second nature to them. Moving behind enemy lines, on guard for an ambush that could come out of nowhere. Only in this place, it would not be a bullet or mortar fire raining down on them. In this forgotten land, man was not the dominant species, he was not the master of the environment. Here he was the prey. Here he lived on the knife's edge of survival, becoming reattuned to instincts that lay long dormant in man's blood.
So it was that Steve Rogers, James Barnes, and Hansuke Hisakawa made their way through the brush, crouched as low as feasible, senses on a hair-trigger. The castaway led them, following a trail only he could see. A chittering of birds froze him in place, hesitating a moment to listen before pushing on. None of them spoke, but Rogers was forced to wince every so often as sweat trickled into the wounds on his back to sting him.
A rustling of leaves overhead sent Hansuke flat against the forest floor, Cap and Bucky doing likewise. A quick scan revealed nothing to Steve, so he looked to their guide and saw a desperate fear on his face. There was something very serious going on that he did not yet grasp.
Hisakawa refused to move an inch for several minutes, laying flounder-like with one side of his face up to the canopy. When at last the danger seemed to have dissipated, he slowly got to his feet and ushered them onward with a renewed focus. Finally, they stopped at a place where the tree-tops opened, the font of a waterfall that overlooked a mist-covered section of the island.
Hurrying to the edge of the porous rock, Hansuke thrust his hands into the stream and scooped up as much of the clear water as he could drink. Steve and Bucky did the same, savoring the sweet coolness the water provided.
When he had sated his thirst enough, Cap nudged his guide, pointing back where they had come from.
"What was that?" He asked but was met by a look of confusion. "Back there," Gestured Cap. "Up in the trees."
Finally, Hansuke seemed to get the message, his face becoming grave, "Jaakuna Monsura. Kage ni hisonde kazenoyoni utsu akuma." The impression he gave off was that of dark reverence as if the rustle in the leaves signified the presence of a malevolent spirit that stalked the living.
Both Steve and Bucky had heard of similar reactions from older veterans, ones that had served in the trenches of the Great War. The ghosts of the lost and mournful dead haunting the places where they died. While most were echoes of their living selves, others it had been said carried a rage beyond death and vented their anger upon those unlucky enough to encounter them.
"Kono shima no akuma," Hisakawa stated. "TobiKadachi."
Wiping the dripping water from his mouth, Barnes nodded, "Sounds like something we don't wanna run into. I think he fears that thing more than the other ones."
"That's my read too, Buck," Using a handful of water to rinse his face, Rogers mulled their options. "At least the other one is easier to see coming." He looked upriver, trying to gauge how far they might have traveled in the past day. Extracting his pocket compass, he got a fix on the direction of the river. "If we follow this river back where it flows from, I think it might bring us near where I lost my shield."
"Or it could be a different river," Bucky suggested.
"We haven't gone that far, besides…" Reaching down to where a tangle of root-like vegetation was sticking out of the rock into the water, he retrieved a scrap of blue fabric, a bit of his torn suit that came off during their flight downriver. "Call it a hunch."
With the entrance mostly blocked by the body of the flying monster, the HYDRA soldiers decided to simply make camp within. Hans with the broken leg was lying slumped against the wall, his shirt tied around his thigh, holding a stick in place as a makeshift splint.
Zola had been drifting in and out of sleep, his energy sapped, the grip on his nerves becoming more tenuous the longer he contemplated their state of things. He lay on his back, head tilted to the side, watching one of the other soldiers investigate the creature's head. They were thirsty, hungry, and exhausted, and to that end, he could hear the other two men rumbling about carving some meat off the beast and eating that. The thought occurred to him for a moment, but he didn't think he could stomach it.
"I think I saw some water out there," Oskar mumbled, peering suspiciously to the outside. There was still enough space for a man to slip through, the problem was that it meant leaving the protection of the temple, leaving it only a matter of time before their instinct to self-preservation shifted to the acquisition of resources.
"If we gather some material, we could make a fire in here, and cook some of that beast's meat," Suggested Luitger.
"Probably tastes like chicken," Heinrich spat.
They shared a half-hearted laugh before settling back down into a sullen silence, licking their dry lips.
As the minutes ticked by one of them mustered the nerve to stand. "We can't just sit here like this!" Heinrich growled, "If Zola can't get us back, then we have to take our survival into our own hands!" Reaching down, he scooped up his pistol belt and harness, from which hung his water canteen. "I'm going to go find some water. Am I going alone?"
Running a thirsty tongue over his lips, Heinrich glancing among those who had the constitution to venture out but found no allies. With a tired exhalation, he steeled his courage and shouldered his rig, heading for the exit space.
"Wait!" Oskar shouted as he stepped forward, reloading his weapon with a fresh magazine. "I'll go."
Together they shuffled sideways between the wall and the tremendous wing of the monster, its single claw still digging into the column. Once outside, they saw the rest of it, a magnificent creature if not simply terrifying. The outer extensions of its wings a deep blue, fading to white near interior with a black diamond-like pattern that spanned across its back. A long tail that opened like a fan was curled underneath. "It's bigger than a Messerschmitt…" Oskar said in wonder.
They found a small side-path through the canopy that led them to a stonework pool, the broken font of what might have been a fountain in the center, now half rubble. There was indeed a layer of water in the bowl, fed by the trickle that bled from the severed spout. The pooled water itself looked stagnant and scummy, unsafe to drink, to say the least. But the bubbling water was clear, inviting.
"Hurry!" At once they scrambled into the pool and held their canteens against the rock. Every few seconds they would take a fresh sip of water, savoring the spring's restorative kiss, allowing themselves a desperate laugh of enjoyment.
Then came a growing sound. A rumble, deep and guttural. Beside the decrepit fountain was an elevated landing where the foundation of another building once stood, its broken walls left behind as the only evidence. Staring down at them was a new beast from their nightmares, armored scales a blood-red, saliva dripping from the ends of fangs as long as their arms. Its eyes were an oily black, with only a pinpoint blue light if an iris to indicate the direction of its attention.
Jaws stammering, the men slowly crept back, dropping their canteens in the pool. The monster laid a foreleg on the rubble wall, a paw displaying four long claws with a second tier of five smaller nails sticking out above the gaps between. Muscles rippled beneath the crimson hide, leaving the little question of its physical prowess. Like jackrabbits, the men turned and sprinted as fast as their tired legs could push them.
The monster's nostrils flared at first, unsure of how to appraise these strange creatures. Now watching them flee the hunter instinct kicked in, prey on the run. With a sharp bark, it leapt from its position, the red beast in pursuit, its heavy bludgeoning tail swaying in motion to match stride. Despite its size, it was lean, fast on its feet, a natural chaser if the initial ambush failed.
Fortunately for the men, their search for water had not taken them far, and the narrow path back served to slow the beast enough for them to slip through the barricade and collapse on the floor beside the others.
The beast's snout came up to the gap in the column, able to stick itself in about a foot. Jaws the size of a car snapped, a maw opening to reveal a tongue of ash grey and frustrated snarling.
His senses returning under the safety of the stone, Oskar raised his weapon and began firing, thinking to shred this monster's flesh as he had done with the flying one. A few bullets pierced the tongue before the jaws closed, sparks firing off where they ricocheted against the crimson scutella. It emitted a painful cry as it tossed its head back to protect the eyes, a trail of blood dripping from its mouth that splattered where the droplets were flung.
All in the room held their breath, waiting to see if it would come back around.
The beast's tail came crashing into the support column, sending fissures throughout the pillar that nearly buckled it in one blow. Bristling with rock hard protrusions, the club of an appendage scraped against the stone as the monster moved behind the corpse of the flying thing. It latched onto the wyvern's tail and began dragging it away from the temple with determined hauls.
Both creatures disappeared into the greenery, but what did not leave them, was the sound of the beast eating. Zola and the others listened to the echo of flesh being rent and bones snapping somewhere close but unseen.
Heinrich, who had ventured out for water dropped to his knees, head in his hands.
"Looks like climbing down is off the table."
The gorge that lay between the three men dropped into a pit of shadow, the other side some 25-30 meters away. Rogers stepped to the edge and looked down, seeing nothing but the faint shimmer of light reflected off some rivulet at the bottom, "There are enough dangerous things up here, never mind what might be crawling around down there."
"Things that shoulda went extinct a million years ago," Bucky complained.
The comment provoked a half-frown from Steve, "If God in all his wisdom decided that these creatures should be alive at this place and time, we're not in a position to say otherwise." He sighed. "But a warning sign would have been nice."
"Kotchi!" Hansuke called to them, pointing over to where a great tree fallen and become a bridge. It had grown so big and so close to the crevice, the roots had destabilized the ground and caused it to topple over decades ago. But it had not died; new life now grew up from the trunk.
Barnes threw his hands in the air, "Finally, a break."
"Had to happen eventually," Cap agreed. They had begun walking, but a strange feeling buzzed at the back of his mind. At first, he swatted at it like a mosquito, he couldn't imagine what kind of exotic viruses one could catch here. Nonetheless, he turned, and not a moment too soon. Exiting the green not far from where they had come, was the Gojira beast, sniffing at the air. It turned and saw them.
"Go!" Cap yelled, "Go now!"
Bucky and Hansuke realized the danger a second later, breaking into a sprint. The monster surged, finding its quarry at last after tracking their scent through the jungle. They did not belong here, and he would defend his territory.
As one might expect, the surface of the tree was not level and fraught with tripping hazards and precarious footing. The momentum they had gained in the run quickly ground down as they danced on slippery moss and brittle bark. Gojira halted at the upturned roots, unable to follow, snorting angrily.
Being the type of person he was, Steve Rogers was the last of the three to board the bridge, making sure others were out of harm's way first. Such it was that he had the chance to pause and look back at the monster, affixing his gaze to its. He couldn't explain it, but there was some connection at the moment, something recognizable in the creature's eyes. A gleam of intent that Rogers understood.
A gasp behind him, however, snapped him out.
Hansuke, who was in the lead, was stopped on the far end of the tree, unable to go farther. Waiting on the other side, was a beast they had not seen before. A massive wolf-like creature covered in red scales with two sets of claws stacked on each paw. It snapped at Hansuke, taking a single step onto the bridge that caused it to roll slightly.
Bucky swayed back and forth, managing to catch his balance. In the process, he was forced to look down, down into the gorge where a rocky death awaited them.
The Gojirasaurus roared over the heads of the men, aiming its challenge at the rival. Then it hefted one leg and brought it onto the tree.
"Look out!" Bucky cried. The force of the footfall jostled the entire bridge, upending the opposite side a few feet and driving the red beast back. While Captain America was able to get a hand down to steady himself, Bucky and Hansuke's feet betrayed them. They impacted ribs-first onto the tree trunk, hands scraping and clawing to save themselves from sliding off.
Steve dove and grasped onto Barnes' wrist, "Hold on, Buck!"
Gojira looked again to the humans, watched them struggle to stay on the bridge. It removed its leg, stepping back. The sudden shift cost Hisakawa his own grip. Without thinking, Bucky reached out and caught his hand just as he began to slip. Hansuke dropped, forcing Barns to drop with him, tethered only by the grip of Captain America as they hung in the air.
The red beast sensed an opportunity and once more made an advancement onto the tree, testing for a way its much wider frame could navigate the span of the bridge. Beady, hungry eyes switching between the cornered prey and the rival predator.
Gears of a primitive but far from dull mind turned in that of Gojira. It bent down, finding grips on the roots to get a stronghold with its forelimbs. Multi-ton leg muscles flexed; prehistoric power bent to a single effort. With a breaking sound, the tree began to uproot as Gojira roared.
Captain Rogers glanced over his shoulder at the incredible sight, the tree being upended from the base. He slid down the increasing slope, a few feet closer to where the jaws of the red beast salivated at the prospect of a meal.
"Cap!" Bucky screamed through the strain of holding Hansuke while keeping his own grip.
Options and estimations raced through Steve's head in a heartbeat. If he swung them back onto the tree, the red beast would snatch them in an instant. Pulling them up would take too long. Their choice was either chance a drop into the chasm or contend with the predator. A bead of sweat stung his left eye as he tried to pick the lesser of two devils.
It occurred to the waiting predator that its food might be lost if they fell down the pit. So, it decided to brave the unsteady bridge and make a run for them while it could. The red beast leaped onto the tree, mouth open and ready to take Steve Rogers in its teeth.
In the same instant, the Gojira heaved its end of the tree to the left, ripping the last of it free from the soil and dumping the heavy end into the gorge.
"HOLD ON!"
The sudden drop rolled Cap just out of reach for the red beast, leaving it just enough time to bound back towards the cliff.
Bucky and Hansuke found themselves wrenched up like a chain on a pulley, Rogers becoming the counterweight on the other side.
"WHOAAAAAAAAA!" Hansuke cried as he held on for dear life. Both he and Barnes slammed against the trunk with grunts of pain, the tree pitching at odd angles as it bumped against the sides of the gorge.
Gojira switched his attention to the red beast on the other side that had managed to scrape its way onto the ledge. It glared back at him, sour over having lost a meal for no good reason.
Somewhere off in the distance, the clatter of automatic gunfire echoed, drawing both of their gazes in its direction. The red beast sniffed, unsure of what to make of the unfamiliar sound. But Gojira growled, irritated by yet more unwelcome phenomena in his domain.
It was a savagely brutal fall for the tree and the men attached to it. The tip splintered off as it crashed against the rock face, lodging it between the walls for only a moment before sliding down to continue its descent. Seconds passed like an hour until finally, the tree hit rock bottom with a shuddering impact that fractured it nearly in half.
Miraculously, they had all managed to ride the tree down. The fear of a sudden crushing death sufficient to supplement their strength enough to not lose their grip. The landing, however, was far less kind. Hitting the ground at an angle, the span of the pit too short by half to accommodate the tree, it snapped in the middle with only a skin of fiber keeping it connected.
The men were dislodged at last by the stop in momentum, Bucky and Hansuke's fall cushioned only by the few feet of water running in the lowest depression. Rogers' chest scraped against the bark as sheer force ripped him off, and he let out a yelp of pain at having his flesh rent once more. He fell back-first into a scraggy bush growing beside the water, which helped to absorb a good portion of the impact and bounced him to the side.
PRESENT DAY, AVENGERS TOWER
I've been to a lot of bad spots. A lot during the war, plenty after too. Been up against more bad men than anyone should in a lifetime. But I've never been to a place before or after that tried to kill me as much as Lagos Island.
With calm, measured breathing, Steve Rogers lowered and raised himself on the hanging rings. An exercise in control, balance, and strength, the gymnast rings he found had always been a very meditative process, forcing him to focus. He stared directly at the ground below him, keeping his legs straight and flexing his arms to full extension.
After they thawed me out, I eventually got to hear the stories about the boys who served in Vietnam, how the environment itself became a tool of the enemy. How it twisted the minds of young men in a time when the whole world society was in upheaval. I would never compare my brief experience to what those men endured if anything I only got a small taste.
He eased himself down until his elbows were at a clean 90-degree angle, holding there for a count of ten.
But for my small part, I did understand it. Where it wasn't just a man with a gun you had to fear. Give me Red Skull and a squad of HYDRA soldiers any day over what we faced down in that gorge.
LAGOS,1944
None of them knew how long they lay there, bodies next to broken, the shadows creeping over them like a touch of death. Rogers was just coming to when he felt something grab around his mouth. He surged upwards eyes wide in alarm to see Bucky with a finger to his closed lips. Slowly Barnes lifted his hand, once he was sure Steve wouldn't yell, taking the same finger and using it to point upwards.
Making its way down the cliffside, was an arachnid creature, one as big as a sedan with pincer claws on long gangly forelimbs. Then Bucky pointed behind Cap, and they both shifted to see an odd reptile, a lizard some ten-feet long propelling itself on two forelegs with its lower body slithering like a snake. It was investigating a slimy nook in the rock face, a long tongue striking out and touching its point of interest.
Quickly but smoothly, Steve sat up from his pained position to see Hansuke huddled against the bottom portion of the crashed tree, clutching a jagged stone in his hands. They were losing light quickly, either because of the hour or the shifting sun didn't make too much difference. Darkness was coming, and none of them wanted to be lost down here when the light abandoned them.
The scattering of stones alerted them to another hideous thing inhabiting this forgotten place, a spider big enough to engulf them in its legs was scuttling towards them, gnashing mandibles dripping with goo. It was nearly upon them.
Cap shoved Bucky aside and kicked out with both boots in time to drive them both into the oncoming creature's maw, eliciting a shriek as it recoiled. Rogers rolled to his feet and quickly found a good-sized rock of his own, lifting it above his head and hurling it with all the strength he could muster to strike the thing in its ghoulish façade. The stone collided against its exoskeleton with a hard crack and the spider wobbled from the neural trauma.
Hansuke loosed a feral cry of his own as he rushed forward, taking the chance while the monster reeled to smash his rock into one of the eyes. Optical gore-splattered from the epicenter, staggering the thing. He raised his stone to strike again, but a flailing spider leg knocked him off his feet as it struggled to defend itself.
Self-preservation overtook the spider's desire to risk any more danger with this prey and it retreated, emitting horrible squeals and shrieks as it clambered up the gorge wall.
Bucky hurried to help Hansuke back to his feet, Rogers falling in on their backs to ensure none of them could be ambushed.
"You see a way out of here?" Barnes asked, wary as he watched the crab-thing make it to the ground, its black eyes roving in their direction.
"Not here," Cap finally took the time to scan their surroundings; one end curled around to the left and out of sight. The other end went straight but offered no sign of any expedient means of escape. "Looks like we pick a side and hope for the best. "
From the curved side emerged yet another living anachronism, a reptile of such girth and build it could run a tractor off the road. It lumbered on four bowed-out legs, a thick and bludgeonous head with a row of short spines from crown to tail. Spying the humans, it charged with a sonorous bark, hips swinging as it pondered forward.
"Choice is made for us! Go, go!" Steve ushered the others in the opposite direction. The spider-crab snapped at them as they sped by, catching Bucky's left arm for a moment before Cap rushed in and battered them apart.
"Don't wanna lose that," He said.
With the various pit-monsters on their heels, the men dashed along the water, searching for some avenue to get out of the gorge.
"Up ahead!" Cap yelled, pointing to where several long moss-covered vines draped down from the top. "Get up those vines!"
Hansuke was first to grab on, and he began to climb with a frantic strength. He took a second to look back down and saw the lizard barreling down on Rogers, who remained at the bottom to make sure the others got to safety. His hand shot out to find a loose stone on the wall, and finding one, pitched it at the reptile's face. It struck home between the eyes just in time to divert it from lunging at Captain America.
Rogers saw an opportunity, and gambling a lost leg, jumped onto the beast's head, and combining his own power with the reflexive motion of the creature, propelled himself several meters up to grab onto a vine well out of its range. He just hoped it wasn't a good climber.
But as they ascended, the closer threat was not on the ground. From an alcove above them, another spider came scurrying out, the vines having run directly over the entrance of its hiding hole. It moved with unerring agility towards its intended prey, unencumbered by the contest with gravity.
Suddenly the men were in an even worse position, being converged upon by the hungry jaws of death from above, and below, a drop to the rocks certain to shatter their bodies.
Rogers swung from the vine he was on to one that would help him intercept the monster, gritting his teeth, pushing through wracking pain to get between it and the others. "Keep going!" He yelled to them with an onward gesture, "Don't stop!"
Bucky and Hansuke hesitated at first, but then restarted their climb with renewed urgency. "Meet you at the top!" Barnes called back.
Traversing one more line, Rogers finally got in position to interpose himself in harm's way. The spider did as he hoped, electing him as its first target. He waited until it committed to a lunge attack, dashing laterally just in time to dodge the gnashing mandibles. When it pushed face-first into the vine, he used the sudden tension on the line to swing himself onto the spider's back. Unable to reach the human who clung beyond its legs' range of motion, the creature twisted back and forth to try and spin him off.
Holding onto a fistful of nasty, musty hair with one hand, Steve Rogers reached into one of his belt pouches, extracting a multi-tool and thumbing out the small knife. When the momentum of the bucking spider allowed, he swung his arm up and jammed the blade into one of the black orbs. It loosed an ear-splitting shriek, the pain-causing it to lose its grip on the rock and fall away. Catching the vine as they fell, Steve hung there a moment as he watched the spider crash below, the reptile pinning it down with a leg to secure an easy kill.
He hung on the vine for a few moments, collecting his breath and putting his tool away. When he began climbing again, the line suddenly started to move. Steve looked above and saw his tether being pulled over the edge, Bucky, and Hansuke working in tandem to hasten his effort. Finally getting him close enough to get an arm up, they hurried over to drag the rest of him to safety.
"Giant spiders…" Barnes began, helping Cap to stand. "Now I know how Australians feel."
"Ugoki tsudzukeru hitsuyō ga arimasu," Hisakawa urged them, pointing down a path through the trees.
Rogers nodded, "We're not out of danger yet, Buck."
He was bloodied, bruised, and generally looked like hell, but Steve Rogers' mind was on the objective in front of him. Shouldering free of the support with a grunt, he glanced around, wiped the sweat and dirt from his brow, and stepped off to lead the way.
THE RUINS
Arnim was awoken suddenly when one of the soldiers bent down and snatched him by the shirt, yanking him to his feet with a surprised yelp.
"Get us out of this hell, Zola!" Heinrich demanded, his eyes bloodshot and teeth clenched. "I'm not dying here like some cornered rat or eaten by some monster!"
"I don't know how!" Zola pleaded; trembling hands raised defensively, still coming out of unconsciousness. "I'm not even sure how we got here! We don't even have any equipment!"
Heinrich was himself seized upon by one of the other HYDRA soldiers, Luitger, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him away from the doctor. "What are you doing? We need him!"
"For what!?" They came apart, posture lowered, ready for another tussle. "If he can't help us get back, we can use him to distract that devil outside so we can escape!" Heinrich snarled.
Clutching at his throat, Zola heard the remark and put his back to the wall, his already strained nerves and rising heart rate making him shake involuntarily.
"Hey!" leaving the side of the man with the broken leg, Oskar got in between the others with his arms extended. "We can't go anywhere on this island without something trying to kill us! We don't need to be at each other's throats!"
The men stayed where they were for several moments, the tension threatening to ignite at any second. There was nothing but the ambient sounds of an indifferent jungle until the injured man spoke up from where he sat.
"He's right…" All turned to Hans, pale as a sheet and covered in sweat, head lolled back against the wall. He spoke with his eyes closed, a fevered raspiness to his voice. "We'll die if we stay trapped in here, and I will only slow you down."
"What are you saying?" Luitger asked.
"I'm saying…" Hans began, wetting his lips and taking a breath, "If you need a distraction, then you use me."
None of the others knew how to respond, stunned by the suggestion. HYDRA doctrine was not keen on the concept of self-sacrifice beyond ensuring the completion of the mission. Sacrificing oneself for the survival of the team was startlingly noble for them.
Sensing the opportunity, Zola nodded vigorously, "We may not have a better chance. That beast must have a full stomach by now."
Though they knew it meant shrinking the group, it was cold logic that an injured man would make them easier prey. Glancing amongst each other, they came to an unspoken agreement.
"Come on then, comrade," Oskar helped him to his feet, handing him his rifle that he used to hobble on. They escorted him to the columns, alert for any sign of the beast nearby. But nothing jumped out at them, indeed, the coast seemed to be clear for the moment.
"Alright," Taking the lead, Heinrich patted his fellow on the back. "We will all go to the fountain first, secure some water, then make it as far as we can. A predator will naturally sense who the weakest amongst us is, like wolves or lions."
Scooping up their canteens from where they dropped, the group followed the trail back to the source of precious water. When they had gotten within eyesight of the font of life, it became a selfish dash of thirst, the men scrambling over one another to be the first to gather just a handful. Unable to compete, Hans limped as quickly as he could, his gaze fixed on the water as desirously as the others.
Fighting for his own spot, Zola got a few fingers into the trickle, bringing them back to suckle a relieving taste. As he did so, he looked down and realized he was standing knee-deep in brownish-green murky water. His first reaction was of revulsion tempered by thirst, then he imagined all sorts of parasites and gut-churning bacteria worming their way through his skin. He shivered involuntarily.
"Maybe it wandered off?" Luitger wondered aloud in between sucking down palms of water. "Do you think the American's are still alive?"
"Captain America?" Zola spoke up finally. "I would bet my life on it," The notion struck Arnim like a splash of ice water, that his odds of survival would increase beside the super-soldier. If only he could find Rogers.
After a minute, they cleared a spot for Hans to have his share at the fountain, helping him into the pool. Foregoing any pretense, he put his cheek against the stone and allowed the water to flow directly into his mouth.
"There it is!" Oskar called out in a hushed but excited voice, "I can see it moving behind those trees!"
Zola looked to where he was pointing and indeed noticed the silhouette skulking in the shadows not 40 meters away, moving between two broken walls. It must have noted the sudden change in its prey's composure however, emerging from the green with a low, stalking posture.
"It's going to charge," Heinrich said as they all stared back at it. "This is it." Turning to Hans, he put a stern, encouraging hand on his shoulder. "Heil HYDRA."
"Heil HYDRA," Hans returned with determination, eyes shining with an indoctrinated fanaticism.
While Zola and the others backed away, putting the fountain between the beast and themselves, Hans remained, leaning a shoulder against the stone to stay upright. He used the support to be able to bring his weapon up and aim it with both hands, waiting to fire until it got close enough to ensure he wouldn't miss. Having already seen bullets bounce off its hide, he had no misconception that he was going to kill this thing with a few shaky rounds. But that did not mean he was going to just stand there and die.
"COME ON!" He shouted. "I'M RIGHT HERE! KILL ME! DO IT NOW!"
The beast glanced at those making an escape, then back to the one who remained, hesitating to decide.
Seeing the reticence, Hans allowed himself to stumble forward into the pool, collapsing to a knee in a display of weakness. The predator switched back to him, wounded prey too tempting to pass up in favor of expending the energy of chasing down healthier targets. It began to stalk forward, head cradled between shoulder haunches, steps careful and quiet.
Without breaking the gaze, Hans slowly raised his weapon under his body, anticipating the point at which the beast would charge, then he would unleash his final burst of offense.
Then it came, triggered like a crossbow bolt the monster was in motion faster than he could react, its crouched legs uncoiled to drive it at break-neck speed. Hans brought his rifle up and began firing wildly, screaming his mortal war cry.
Gojira crashed through a stone wall a second before the red beast could pounce on Hans, smashing into it with its head and sending the monster sprawling like a car wreck. The newly arrived interloper roared to assert its dominance.
Hans had stopped firing, staring up and gaping in terrified awe at the saurian juggernaut, cowering back to the other side of the fountain's pool.
The splashing in the pool caught Gojira's attention, and he snarled at the mammalian invader.
But the red beast was not in the mood to be denied yet again, taking an aggressive stance, growling and snapping at the taller foe. The size difference between them not intimidating enough to get it back down.
Gojira postured back, rearing up to loom large over the quadruped. But what the primeval shogun of this island did not see, however, was the second red beast approaching from behind.
Elsewhere…
Long separated from the rest of his HYDRA comrades, a lone soldier crept his way through the jungle, moving from one tree to another. He was as trepidatious as a mouse in a room full of sleeping cats, obsessively scanning for signs of danger. His uniform was already torn with a bloody gash across his chest.
A rustle in the eaves above caused his heart to freeze, throwing himself against the trunk of a wide tree, struggling to control his panic. He searched the branches, eyes bright with fear.
But it was when he brought his gaze down to the jungle floor that he discovered something that surprised him. He rushed over and laid his hands on the circular object, the shield of the American, Captain America's own. With this, he thought, he could defend himself.
A reflection in the shinier parts of the shield was all the forewarning he had before a blur of blue fury was upon him. A pair of fiendish red eyes the last thing he saw before his world went black.
Blood splattered across the tri-color shield where it fell, and for a moment, it caught the reflection of a crimson eye blink.