Incarna

62 - It's a Leshy

Day 12 - Evening Eastern Ukraine

“Oh you are a mess aren’t you!” The man approached with a long stride and wielding a hiking pole like a knight charging with his lance. “Here let me help you,” and the man took Bohdan’s left arm and steadied him. He looked into Boh’s face and then took his pulse. “Damn terrible business this war and then these Interventions began just the same as for that poor bugger in the desert! Damned strange if you ask me. Here, I’ll just …” and the man raised his hiking pole, shook it and it turned into a shooters stool.

“Here sit,” and he steadied Boh onto the stool then taking out a small medkit, he checked his blink reflex and his blood pressure. He stowed it all quickly away and took a hip flask from his right hand jacket pocket. “It’s not brandy, sorry about that, just not allowed anymore old chap! This is a local herbal brew, tastes lie a boiled witch, but damned effective though!”

Boh sipped slowly from the flask. It was bitter and sweet at the same time. Many of the women he knew were like that, beautiful and lustful but with a flamboyant temper that ended worlds and tore stars apart. He felt himself lift as the fatigue drained away somewhat.

“Yes that’s better, some colour in your old face there now!” The man checked his eyes again and his pulse. “You’ll do, righto then. Oh damn rude of me, John Winston Menzies,” and the man tweaked his deerstalker hat as part of the formalities. “Research scientist with the Agricultural Research Station just down the valley aways, and yes damned silly of us to still be here in the war zone but all the parties like to think they own the research so everyone leaves us alone.”

John Winston looked over his shoulder, “lights fading so lets get you moving,” and he helped Boh to his feet an collapsed the hunters stool back into being a hiking pole. “The Range Rover is down that way just passed that copse of trees,” he indicated down the farm road to where the forest extended outward along a stony ridge.

“We heard the bangs. Knew right away it wasn’t artillery, hypersonic you know. So a few us headed out to rescue any survivors that may had fled the calamity. Damned strange this Incarna business!” Menzies took Bohdan’s left arm and steadied as they walked down the farm track toward the copse of trees.

There was a fluttering and Boh saw his Sirin fly past them and alight on large branch protruding slightly from the tree line. More fluttering and the second Sirin perched near to the other. Boh was about to ask about them, “you get used to them after a while. Damned things are everywhere now. Well at least for those people they haven’t eaten, well apparently. Can’t say I’ve seen the bodies, but some of the other boffins have reported seeing the dead. To be honest I’m not sure I believe those bods. I mean I may work with them but they’re not british. Oh sorry there, no offense meant old chap!”

Bohdan wasn’t sure he could stand too much more of the man’s prattle. He had a strange image of trying to sell him, ‘Well dressed, gentleman scientist. Excellent walker and companion with current first aid certificate!’ No couldn’t sell him probably have to be, ‘free to good home!’

“… and we try not to mix with the locals but ever since these Sirin have appeared it’s been chaos. People murdering each other. Organised crime figures and gang members being found dismembered or their bodies ravaged and rotten. I mean it’s, it’s armageddon out here!” John Winston halted their slow walk and stopped his chatter to peer through the gloom for his vehicle, “ah yes good. It’s still where I left it! Never can tell these days!”

He turned to Boh, “not far now, how are you holding up old chap?” Boh was about to answer in the affirmative when the two Sirin fluttered past them to land in the copse near the Rover. “You know the funniest thing, they disappear when one is around certain kinds of machinery and especially security checkpoints! One of the boffins postulated that it’s something to do with electro-magnetic fields or what not. Beyond me I’m afraid. If it doesn’t photosynthesize I’m not that interested!”

John Winston offered Boh his hip flask again and Boh sipped at it gratefully. Right, last bit then should make before it’s pitch dark. Wouldn’t want to be out here then, all these damned creatures appearing. You wouldn’t believe the amount of vampire jokes the local staff are carrying on with! Oh and the wyrwolves of course. Can’t understand it really, they never were a part of the folk lore from this area and that seems to the nub of the situation as far as I can tell …”

They stopped in their tracks as John Winston paused mid stride. “Now that’s a rum job if ever there was one!”

He stood staring at his Range Rover with trees growing all around it. They weren’t very big trees Boh estimated about 4-6m most of them but definitely something that wouldn’t have just grown up overnight.

“Now that’s bloody typical, isn’t it!” John Winston said very loudly and obviously on purpose. “I turn my back for a hour and this is how you treat me. Yes yes very funny I know and all very impressive for my new friend here I’m sure!”

Menzies flicked his hiking pole and handed Boh the shooters stool. “Take a rest for a moment while I … O dear, I haven’t got your name yet?” “Bohdan, ABC Australia, Journalist,” and he held out his hand and John Winston shook it vigorously. “Hah, paparazzi here, well I never,” and he giggled girlishly. “Sorry, nerves, old son, nearly shot really, what with everything going sorry, and I know I prattle on too much but I found it,” and he turned back to the copse, “keeps most of these fay out of the way!”

Boh stared open mouthed as the trees started to move dragging root like legs out of the top soil and making an opening for the Range Rover. One stopped not 3m from him a craggy old face appeared in the lower branches, “he care us, he care you, beware!”

The Range Rover sprang to life and reversed out of it’s circle of protecting trees. The passenger door swung open, “damned Leshy don’t listen to them old chap, or you’ll be there forever and then realise you’ve turned into one!” Boh handed John Winston the shooters stool and climbed into the passengers seat. He started feeling safe at least and took a deep breath. He was about to relax back and close his eyes when he read the sticker on the windscreen - retawpeeD.

Oh shit, where are you Jim? Boh thought and then just gave up and let himself collapse into sleep.