The forest itself was, by the map, a very small pocket of woodland running for about eight miles North-east, and stretching about three miles from North to South, made up of tall broad-leafed trees that grew tightly together. Small, low growing plants scattered about the forest floor, growing close to their thick trunked kin, and here and there small patches of small, delicate flowers grew; this place was beaming with life. Almost enough to make him forget the pounding of guns in the distance and the distant howling of heavy bombers thousands of feet above the rain clouds, the rain still poured heavily; he almost felt at peace. Almost.

Castillo checked his watch. ‘6:52 PM’ It read.

Fire-teams of two men, twenty feet apart as ordered, moved along cautiously. With him, Private Grauer and Private Willis, both followed up behind him as he forged the path forward through the foliage.

"We would always take the subway up North."

"Up towards 5th avenue right?"

And they were both chatting up another storm.

"Yeah, they had this one little deli we would always go to," Grauer said, "Had the best pastrami sandwiches you'll ever eat."

"Was it that little place on the corner, same a-ways down that little Pharmacy there?"

"Yeah."

Castillo turned around and shushed them, they hushed up immediately, or at least Grauer did for a few moments.

“Sir, do you know our orders are after we get out of here?” Grauer asked him as he carefully stepped over the jutted-out root of a tree, doing everything in his power not to possibly damage the sensitive equipment on his back.

“Either we wait for the others to meet up with us at the rallying point or we backtrack and take the road. Should probably be a few other platoons using the roadways.” Castillo said in a hushed tone.

“I wonder how Rodger’s group is handling right now?” Grauer wondered out loud.

“I wouldn’t have put him in charge of the rest of the platoon if I didn’t have faith in his abilities.” Castillo said.

“No sir, I’m sure you wouldn’t.” Grauer shook his head.

The conversation died for a moment as he moved quietly behind the Lieutenant, the silence looming beneath the sounds of a storm. The wet fallen leaves crunching beneath their boots as they walked. Castillo got a quick glimpse of Sergeant Miller and Private Johnson as they moved forwards to their left, then they disappeared behind the trees once again.

“Say, sir. I was just wondering, but, what made you decide to join the army anyways. Don’t you seem to be kinda’…I don’t know, old? For this sort of thing.” Grauer spoke up, , if just to hear himself talk. He was a very talkative person, he would talk all the time even if he was busy dodging bullets. Always bright too, Castillo thought. Willis stayed quiet as he watched the trees.

Castillo grunted at the boy’s question, “And aren’t you a little young to be?”

“Well sir, I did sign up as soon as I was eighteen, but…I had a bit of trouble getting in.” He chuckled, “Cause’ believe it or not, I was actually skinnier than I was now.” Grauer wasn’t just the newest member of the platoon, he was also the youngest of Castillo’s group, being nineteen, he was very lean because of it; despite lugging a field radio with the rest of his equipment. He wasn’t scrawny, no, but he wasn’t a giant in height like Herrera, or buff like Brown. Small, lean arms, a sharp face, and long legs doesn't give a man the idea of someone who would be expected to lug around an extra thirty-five pound radio strapped to his back.

Castillo raised a brow at that, though Grauer couldn’t see it, “I find that hard to believe. You being smaller than you are now.”

“It’s true, I weighed 138 before I got off the boat, but before I was able to join up, I was little over a 100.”

Castillo whistled, “The hell. I thought the Army lightened your load, not upped it.” He shook his head.

“Well, that was mainly my doing sir. After I was rejected entry into all branches, I spent the next year trying to build myself up. I didn’t stop trying to get in sooner though. I eventually got accepted into the Army, and got put up for field communications and operations. Don’t know how or why, I thought I was just going to end up a rifle or something.” He chuckled again.

Castillo nodded, “Well, at least you never gave up. If there is one thing I hate, it’s a quitter.”

“Duly noted sir.”

"Hey, It's fine being a squatter, the smaller guys usually have the bigger fight in em'." Willis said with a grin. Willis was among the younger troopers in the platoon, besides Grauer who was still the youngest, he was twenty-four. Well built as most of the men, with a slick face that screamed Bronx. Most of the men were in their mid twenties, excluding the Sergeant Miller, who was twenty-nine, Sergeant Moore, who was thirty, and Corporal Herrera, who was thirty-one.

Grauer laughed at his comment.

The men chatted amongst themselves while they ate their ration meals. Supper time. They were all gathered within a small area where the trees had not pack so densely, though trees were the dominant back board here. Private Garcia glanced around the area they were resting in, the rain had died down to a light drizzle, and warm sunlight beamed down unto the forest floor below to create a very relaxed feeling in the air; but at the same time he just felt…off, about something. He couldn’t quite tell what it was, an inkling in the back of his head that he couldn’t seem to shrug off.

“You should eat.” A voice told him, a bold voice.

Garcia glanced to his right, where Herrera was seated next to him against a tree. A giant of a man he was. Standing above anyone else in the whole platoon at six feet five; he was pretty brawny too. It was funny, Garcia thought, he was rather small in comparison at only five feet six, heh, the numbers flipped too. Most of the squad had gotten used to calling them ‘George and Lennie’ because of it, though Herrera was anything but stupid. Why command decided to make him an aid man and not a support gunner or gun chucker no one knew; at least until you watched him work. He had saved many men out in the field before numerous times in the short months he had been deployed; Garcia was one of them, took a bullet out of his shoulder once.

“I know; I just can’t shake this feeling I’m getting…”

He watched Herrera put down the can of meat he was holding in his huge paws for hands, “Yeah, I’m getting the same feeling I’m sure, like that little feeling in the back of your skull?”

“Yep, that’s the one.”

Herrera shook his head, “Haven’t been able to figure out what it is. But I started feeling it almost immediately after we came into this place.”

Garcia just nodded as he ate.

Most of the others were just silently eating, though Moore decided to play a solo card game while he ate. On the other side of camp, Castillo was observing his small tactical map, and had his compass out on the ground. Though he had been looking and thinking of something else, he gently placed the photo back in his pocket before looking at his watch. ‘7:48 PM.‘ He restudied the map again, surely, they should be reaching the edge of the forest soon.

“I’m not crazy am I?”

“Now why would you think that?”

“Cause’ I swear these trees just took on a few more shades of ‘dark’.”

Corporal Harris looked around at all the trees and foliage around him. Some of trees did in fact seem to have taken on a darker hue to them, some of the bushes and shrubs had similar traits. The ground itself looked darker, as if someone had spilled some water unto the earth and it was just soaking in. though the grass maintained it's green hue.

“Hmm, they defiantly look a bit darker if you ask me.” He said as he put a hand on the trunk of the tree he had stopped next too.

Private Wilson whistled to his left. A moment later Johnson peaked his head through the packed foliage.

“Did any of you notice this?” He asked him pointing to the darker trees.

Johnson looked at the trees he was referring to, “I thought some of these things looked a bit strange. But I thought I was just going crazy…”

“Then it looks like we can all be crazy together.” Wilson chuckled.

Harris tried clawing some bark off the tree he was examining, only for the trunk to be as smooth as a baby’s bottom. So he pulled his knife and peeled some bark off the tree, it came clean off, like if you were gliding a knife along butter; and sprayed out some sort of sap out of the opening as he glided his knife along the dark bark.

“Did that thing just cut like a fruit?” Johnson asked.

Harris gripped the piece of bark, and messed with the sap that had gotten on his fingers, only for his face to scrunch up at the smell it produced, “Oh God, this shit stinks!” Harris yelled in disgust, he threw the bark into the forest beyond; trying to get the foul-smelling stuff off his hands and tunic, suppressing his gag reflexes as he did so.

Wilson was more open with showing his disgust as he gaged out loud once the aroma hit his nostrils, Johnson just decided to get the hell out of the area before he choked on the stench, running out of there. He went to inform Sergeant Miller about it.

“Oh g-good God, wha-what the h-hell!” Wilson croaked out between coughs and gags, "Let's get the h-hell out of here!"

They both ran out of the area, but the stench followed them, as Harris had the stuff stuck to his fingers and tunic.

Castillo suppressed a gag as he examined the bark he held in his hand, tossing it into the brush and rubbing his hands in a wet cloth. “Call in the men, we are definitely not somewhere we should be.” Castillo said to Willis.

Willis saluted before moving to his left to inform the runners in the other groups. Miller and Johnson were already with them, along with Harris and Wilson.

“Grauer, I want you to radio in to Rodger’s group, if you can’t, try as many frequencies that you can link up to, I need someone; anyone on that radio right now.”

“Yes sir!” Grauer saluted. He removed the radio from his back and began trying to reach Rodger’s group.

Willis came jogging back with Corporal Herrera at his heels.

“Corporal Herrera reporting in sir.” Herrera saluted. Willis had already gone for the team on their right.

“At ease, I don’t know if you noticed or not, but we are not in the same wood we entered an hour or so ago.” He said waving a hand around at the changed foliage.

Herrera nodded. “Trees and foliage have changed; the soil is different. Lots of rotting and decomposing going on. No, I would say we are sir.”

“Yes, yes. That’s why I’m getting the men back together. I don’t want everyone separated right now, because honestly, I don’t know what the hell Is going on.” Castillo shook his head as he rubbed his temples, his mind had been going a bit hazy, like it was allergy season back home. And he had the headache of the century.

“You alright sir?” Herrera asked.

Castillo shook his head again before nodding, “I’m fine, just got a bit of a headache is all.” He answered as he took a long drink from his canteen.

Willis had returned with Private Lee, and the men from the left flank had all returned.

Castillo explained the situation to everyone once all his men had returned and gathered many of their noses scrunched up at the strange, lingering stench in the air. “Alright people listen up! I know all of you have probably been confused as hell by the sudden change of image with this damned wood. Trust me when I say I have no idea either, Grauer is trying to reach anyone that can get us up to speed on the situation.”

Grauer spoke up, “Um, sir, there seem to be no frequencies to home in to…” he said taking the phone away from his ear.

“What?” Castillo said flat.

“I can’t seem to find any other allied, or even German links. There is just…nothing.”

“What do you mean there’s nothing? Not even static?”

Grauer shook his head, “As I said sir, there’s nothing.”

“The fuck…” Castillo cursed.

“I bet ya’ it’s the damn krauts that are jamming our radio!” Moore said.

Grauer shook his head, “I don’t think it’s the krauts, their on the run. They wouldn’t stop to try and jam our radios. Plus, these things are built for a small area of communications. I don’t think the Germans would waste their time with these.” Grauer said, now fiddling with the wiring inside the radio, “I can try and see if it’s something wrong with the workings.”

“What about this damn forest.” Davis growled, “I can’t even fucking think straight right now, I don’t know about any of you, but I’ve got the worst damn headache I have ever fucking had in my life. Just looking around in this damn place makes my head hurt like someone just took a hammer and beat the shit out of me with it!” he yelled. Some of the men nodded.

Davis walked away from the group, leaning up against a tree as he held his head. Lee looked to Castillo, who had fallen silent at the outburst and nodded. Lee followed and put his hand on Davis's shoulder, “Hey, you aright?”

Davis shrugged his shoulder off, “Yeah, I’m fine, just a little irritated is all.” He sighed.

Lee nodded in understanding, his head was hurting a bit too, but It wasn’t that bad compared to Davis’s if it made him burst out like that, he was usually able to keep his cool easier than the others, even in a combat situation. To see him just yell out in outrage like that was concerning.

“Alright, is anyone else here experiencing headaches? Foggy vision? Anything out of the ordinary.” Castillo asked the group.

Everyone raised their hands.

Castillo looked to Herrera.

“Could be anything really sir, something common like fatigue, heat exhaustion, dehydration, hunger, maybe even allergies. Or it could be something pretty bad. Malaria perhaps, though I doubt it, haven't been bit by one mosquito since we started out on this scouting mission, which is very, very strange. Hell, this could even be a little something left behind by the Germans. Though I pray I don't have to use this.” He tapped a finger on his gas mask bag.

Castillo shook his head, “Christ, chemicals are the last thing we need. Alright, everyone, I want everyone on full alert, you see something move, you point it out. You feel your head starting to get worse, apply your mask. Every man only has one replacement filter, remember that. If your filter goes out, and you already used yours. Tough luck, unless someone else offers you theirs. You understand?"

Everyone nodded. "Yes sir." They all said hushed, and didn't salute. Just encase.

“Grauer.” Castillo said simply.

“There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with the wiring and fixtures. It’s just dead.” Grauer answered.

Castillo sighed, “Alright, so we are alone on this one, for now at least.” He said under his breath. “New orders! We are going to continue on for a bit longer, if we don’t find a way out by then, we head back the way we came. Grauer, pack it up, let’s get ready to move.” Grauer’s radio was on his back in an instant.

Castillo checked his watch, “Alright, it’s past 2000, we will turn back when the hand reaches 2100. Let’s move!”

They treaded onwards.

They were defiantly not in the same place they were before, before the group was a river, a small one, but a river non the less. Castillo had ordered his men to stop and rest while he looked over his map. They had all applied their gas masks some time ago, but many had taken theirs off to drink from their canteens. The trees and foliage were completely different from what they were even before, their trunks fully black and their leaves a dull green. Vines hung loose from them and their roots grew outwards before digging into the ground below, as if just there to trip someone up. His headache was really bothering him now; he could barely hear himself think over the pounding in his head. The masks didn’t seem to be helping much, but he decided to keep it on just encase for now.

The whole situation puzzled him, no, it honestly kind of terrified him, being in a situation with absolutely no idea what in the name of God is going on. And he didn’t have any answers for this one. And the big taker? The sun had not moved from its position in the sky as all, despite it being past 2100.

“I don’t understand; I just don’t understand…” He muttered as he ran a hand through his black and grey hair. Often he would look away from the map he was staring into to look at the high sun.

“Sir?”

He pulled out his compass again, the needle spinning rapidly in a frantic circle. “What the hell…” he muttered as he watched the needle. It was hypnotizing as he looked at it, as if, by just looking at this simple gadget, all his worried were dissolved; he was off to his own little world. Images of his family flooded his mind.

“SIR!”

He was snapped form his trance, and realized all his men had surrounded him where he sat on the ground, Sergeant Moore stood closest before him. “What?” Castillo shook his head.

“I asked what the hell do we do now, sir?” Moore said.

Castillo looked back to his compass, there was no way to tell which way North and South were, the damned sun was glued in the sky.

“We stick to the plan; we head back the way we came.” He said as he got to his feet and reequipped himself. “Grab your gear, and form up on me! If you need water, get it here while we have it.”

The men moved around to gather their equipment, which they had removed to take a breather, and gathered their weapons. Some refilled their canteens in the river.

That was when it was starting to get really dark, really fast.

Everyone looked up to see the sun lowering itself down behind the horizon only for the moon to pass it up and replace it’s spot in the, now, dark night sky. Stars shone beautifully in the pitch blackness of the night, and it was literally black all around. No light what-so-ever, minus the soft glare given off by the large full moon.

They all stood there dumbfounded in the dark, silence filled the night as no-one had anything to say to what they just witnessed.

"Sound off!" Castillo shouted.

They all did so. Castillo let go of the breath he was holding, so this wasn't a dream, his men were right beside him.

"Alright, there is no way in hell we can maneuver through this hell-hole in this darkness, we will make camp and rest for the night. You know the drill."

They all saluted and began their work on pitching pup-tents and making small fires.

Author's Note

Sorry about the wait, I promise chapters won't take nearly as long in the future.

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