Into This Wild Abyss

Into This Wild Abyss

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: All hell breaks loose; and then the unthinkable happens. This is a missing scene from the episode of Seal Team: ‘Paradise Lost’.

“What hath night to do with sleep?” – John Milton

Sinto’s arms were wrapped around his neck so tight that the force of it made him cough. He was a little one and so small, that he could not sense his weight; but pressed so close that he could feel his heart pounding and wet tears coat his cheek.

Over the chaos and madness of fear on the street, he could hear the frightened whisper in his ear, “Where is my brother? Where is my brother?”

Holding him tighter, Clay reassured, “He’s here, right here…see?” And the other boy, pupils blown wide, still clinging to the teddy bear – rushed to his side and grabbed hold of his shirt.

Feeling the child grab hold, Clay made his way with both boys through the frantic streets. Shock registered on every face he encountered, and he felt it also. Scanning the area he knew that he needed to get these children quickly to a safe place …back to the bar.

Jostling his way through the crowd, people rushed by stumbling into one another with ash and blood streaking their hands, face and clothes. Streaming tears, wails of pain, open wounds… limping – the wounded holding up the wounded, determined to get off this street.

It was pandemonium.

Clay anxiously watched them stagger away, his sense of duty pulling him in several different directions. He wanted to help them all; but knew he could not. At least these people were on their feet. Others had not been so lucky.

Reaching down he pulled Kuya closer to his body and brushed his hand over the boy’s eyes. Without further direction he squeezed them tightly closed as they passed over a woman lying on the ground; her eyes sightless – limbs contorted horribly.

Placing his hand at the back of Sinto’s head, he pressed the boy’s face into his neck and murmured, “Close your eyes. Don’t look. Do you promise?” and felt the child nod in response.

Clay picked his way through the minefield of death, rubbing Sinto’s back with soothing circles as Kuya blindly followed alongside – his life line the tail of his shirt. “Don’t let go.” he instructed and surged forward.

To his left, through the haze of smoke and ash, Clay could hear moaning and soft prayers. He knew there were others out here hidden from view, who were hurt badly and could not stand on their feet and make their way to safety…caught here; made to suffer among the fallen.

Voices above the exodus called out to missing family and friends…names floating surreally through the dust, swallowed up by panic.

Moving on they passed by a man dazed and confused – his face covered with blood and etched in bewilderment…walking in circles – unable to go one way or the other. “Can you follow us?” Clay yelled out, but the man only continued his spherical journey, his mind lost amid the horror surrounding them.

Kuya began to cry at his side as Sinto trembled uncontrollably in his arms. These children were going into shock. Time was of the essence. He needed to get them to the bar. Trent would be able to help them; he would know what to do.

So he reluctantly left the man in his circular pattern, unresponsive in the street. “I’ll come back” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll be back for you. Please wait here.”

As he moved away, suddenly a sense of uncertainty washed over him. The street seemed familiar and then not. Destroyed cars, the smoke, flames, concrete upended…debris swirling beneath his feet; street lights flickering on and off gave him a sense of déjà vu.

Where was he exactly? Which way was Bravo? Was the University north or south of here?

Clay knew that the streets in Mumbai could be tricky. Adam had made it clear to stick together…not to wander off alone and be some kind of hero. Turning in a circle he searched through the destruction, Sinto clinging to his neck; legs squeezing his chest.

He couldn’t stop here, they needed to keep moving.

Swiping smoke induced tears from his eyes Clay considered what to do; and decided to keep moving forward – Kuya tripping over his feet behind him. Around the corner, twisted; a husk of himself Adam lay dead and he choked on his grief. Halting in his tracks Kuya ran up his ankles and buried his face into his back.

Blinking, he moved closer. This was not possible. He should have stayed behind. He should have stayed and watched over him. Steeling himself, he hefted Sinto up to hold him closer. He looked again, and this time instead of Adam he saw a disfigured man, unlucky in fate, who had been caught in the bomb blast – his body torn to bits…his face frozen in disbelief.

Closing his eyes Clay berated himself for becoming lost in the past. This was not Mumbai.

Through the smoke, noise of running retreat, sirens in the distance Clay heard his name. To his relief, the smoke parted and there in front of him stood the bar…Sonny moving toward him.

His sense of bearing restored Clay latched onto Sonny’s voice and moved in to meet him. “Where have you been?” Sonny yelled as they met at the bombed out entrance – his voice a mixture of anger and worry.

Clay attempted to loose Sinto’s vice like grip from around his neck and turn him over to Sonny, but the child was strong and would not be easily untangled. Sonny reached out to take the boy from him, but he would not let go; his brother now encircling his waist – refusing to be parted from the man who saved their lives; his eyes still firmly shut.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Clay soothed; and as the child relaxed in his arms, peered down into his eyes. “I promise you” he vowed with emphasis… “you will be safe here.” Then pulling Kuya around to face him encouraged softly, “Open your eyes, we’re here big brother.”

“Now see?” he said to Sinto, “your brother is here with you. He won’t leave you. Isn’t that right? Brothers stick together” and then nodded with Kuya as the boy gifted the teddy bear to his little brother.

When he left the children safe with Sonny, he could hear his friend calling out, “Clay, where are you going?”

Moving away swiftly, he had no time to explain. He couldn’t stay here. He just couldn’t. There was a dazed man walking in circles waiting for him to return and lead him back. There were men, women and children who were injured, invisible beneath thick smoke…moaning, alone unable to move. He needed to get back to them, help them….he had promised.

And then, within the smoldering mist of flame, smoke and circling paper…a cell phone rang.

Inexplicably he left his feet and when he landed the sun was shining, the sky was clear and blue; the sand beneath him tickled his skin and momentous waves curled up to touch the clouds; and then hurtled down to wet his feet.

Sitting up slowly, he gazed out to witness the power of the ocean. Vague memories of instant, overwhelming terror melted away – leaving only peace.

He knew this place. This is where he was safe. Here, he needn’t worry about insurgency, loss, grief or pain. Laying back he basked in the warmth of a summer heat; gripped the wet sand and smiled.

When he opened his eyes Brian leaned over him – blocking out the brightness of the rays. “Come on” he laughed; his voice competing with the roar of the ocean. “Let’s go swim.”