Tales of the Forgotten (13 page)

“What
is it Sean?” Brad asked. He got no answer to the question; Sean just stood
there silently. Brad looked harder to see what Sean was doing, but he couldn’t
make out his face in the shadows. Brad got to his feet and walked around the
fire.

Sean
was still standing in the same spot looking out into the mountains, his face
darkened by the shadows.

“Sean,
what is it? Do you see something?” Brad asked again. This time the man turned
and Brad found himself looking into the face of PFC Ryan. His face was contorted
in a scream and his eyes were nothing more than shriveled black holes. Ryan
grabbed at Brad’s jacket and pulled him close to his face, then pulled his head
back and let loose the primal moan. Brad screamed and dropped to his back,
digging his feet into the ground to try and escape. Ryan fell on top of him and
began shaking his arms while making the primal moan into Brad’s face.

Brad
woke to Brooks shaking him awake. He was covered in sweat and his feet were
scraped where he had pushed himself back into his pack and against the rock
ledge. Brad looked across the fire and saw Sean looking back at him.

“You
okay buddy?” Sean asked.

“I’m
fine, just another bad dream,” Brad said. He looked over at Hasan who was also
awake now. Hasan gave him a knowing nod and rolled over and went back to sleep.

“I’ll
take the watch now if you don’t mind Sean, I won’t be sleeping anymore
tonight,” said Brad.

17.

They
woke early the next morning and prepared their packs for the day’s march. They
opted for a cold breakfast since none of them were in the mood to build another
fire. Brad volunteered the cans from his pack, happy to lighten his load. The
sun was just peeking over the mountain and the valley was covered in an orange
glow. The temperatures were still cool and Brad was wearing a heavy fleece he
always carried with him.

“We
should reach the village by late day,” Hasan said.

“What
are we going to find there, Hasan?” Brad asked.

“I
have been through this village several times. It is very small, only a few families
there, shouldn’t be many more than a hundred,” Hasan answered.

“Taliban,
Al Qaeda?” Brooks asked.

“Is
there such a thing anymore? It is only us and them now,” Hasan laughed. “No
friends, these were always peaceful people. They are quiet and keep to themselves;
we will have no problems from them. Unless of course they have turned.”

They
finished their conversation and hoisted the heavy packs to their backs. Hasan
once again led the way, with Brooks close behind him and Sean in the rear. They
walked more slowly today, comfortable that they were not being pursued by the
primals. The team skirted a high ridge line that had several cutbacks lowering
them deeper into the valley. It would have been a beautiful sight under
different circumstances. The sun was all the way above the mountain now, and
the light warmed Brad’s face. He frowned, knowing that the sun’s same warmth
would later torture him with its heat.

Sean
and Brad walked side-by-side, feeling more relaxed in the deep isolation of the
trail. It was impossible to keep up the high mission tempo for days on end, and
it would kill them if they tried. Back on base they would go run their missions
fueled by adrenaline, but they would always have the safety of the base to
return to. Here in this new war they rarely found down time; they were always
on edge with no home to return to. They were feeling the burnout, the
complacency that could kill a soldier on the front lines.

They
put their trust in Hasan; they were in his playground. The man was a machine.
He had grown up fighting wars. He had his rifle slung across his back and he
kept a slow but steady pace. He would pause when going around a blind corner,
and would halt the small patrol if he felt uneasy and need a closer look. The
going was slow but had also been uneventful.

They
walked for hours without seeing any evidence of a primal.

“So,
Sean, I’ve heard all of the theories, but what do you make up these things,
really? Are you still sticking to your lion idea?” asked Brad.

“I
don’t know anymore. I thought eventually they would starve or something and die
off. You remember all those movies with the zombies? These things don’t act
like that; they don’t stagger around asking for brains, and they don’t rot,”
Sean said. “They hunt, you’ve seen them. They gather in packs and sniff the air
like hyenas.”

“It’s
de-evolution, bro,” added Brooks. “I mean, we evolved from animals, and this
shit is just taking us back. The virus backed us up a good ten thousand years
of progress, back to the caves, brother.”

“They
are demons. We are being punished for our actions,” Hasan said. “These days
will not end until we learn to work together and stop fighting each other.”

“And
if that never happens?” asked Brad.

“Then we all die,” Hasan answered.

They
walked without speaking after that until Hasan called a halt at the top of a
hill that overlooked the trail ahead of them. They all took a knee and sipped
at their emptying bottles of water. “Past that bend is the village,” Hasan
said, pointing down the road. There wasn’t much to see. The terrain was
identical to what they had been following the entire day: a long dusty trail
skirted by high walls on both sides. The trail suddenly went to the right at
the bottom of the hill. They would be approaching blind.

“Brooks,
you proceed with Hasan, Brad and I will shadow you off the trail to support
your move,” Sean ordered.

“Sounds
good, Chief … Let’s go meet your friends,” Brooks answered as he slapped Hasan
on the back and started walking out down the hill.

Sean
helped Brad to his feet and they made for the far rock wall. They cut the
corner so that they could observe their two men on the road and still see the
approaches to the village. They were in the shadows now, nearly invisible to
Brooks and Hasan. Sean moved quickly so that they were parallel to the trail,
but still out of sight. When they reached the turn in the path, they waited for
Brooks and Hasan to clear the wall before, one at a time, they ran the corner
to the far wall and again ducked into the shadows.

They
could see the edges of the village now; there was no movement. Sean found a
large ledge about eight feet off the ground that overlooked the approach. He
used Brad to hoist him up, then reached down and pulled Brad up behind him.
Lying flat on the ledge, Sean readied his large scoped rifle and observed the
village. Brad took the cue from Sean and pulled his binos from his pack and
started scanning the village for targets.

Brad
watched Hasan walk the trail. When he had gotten to within feet of the first
home he stopped and raised his hands. Brad could hear Hasan’s words echo off
the walls of the canyon, but couldn’t make out what he was saying. Brad saw
Brooks standing beside Hasan in a protective but relaxed posture. His rifle was
slung and his arms were crossed. Brad continued to scan but saw no movement.

“You
got anything, Sean?” Brad whispered.

“Nothing,
my scope is clear,” Sean said.

They
watched Hasan walk beyond the first house and stop in the street. Brooks
followed and again took up a position beside him. From his high location Brad
could see the entire village. It wasn’t much. It probably didn’t qualify as a
village at all; this was a very remote place. It was more of a ranch or
community farm by American standards. Brad counted maybe five homes and just as
many out-buildings. If it was a farm, it was suspiciously absent of livestock
and crops.

Hasan
continued to call out as he walked further into the square that the houses
lined up on. He received no answer. He looked back and spoke to Brooks. After a
moment, Brooks turned to face them, put his hands in the air, and waved them
forward. Brad helped Sean drop to the surface below before he dropped over the
edge himself.

They
met in the square. There were three small homes on the south side of the trail
and two larger ones on the north side.

“The
elder lived there,” Hasan said, pointing to one of the large homes. “I have
been a guest in that home; I have slept on the roof in the cool night air.”

“Well,
let’s clear that one first then,” Sean said as he walked toward the home’s
front door.

They
approached the house and stacked up along the far wall. Brooks was directly in
front of the door, waiting to kick it in on Sean’s signal. They all had their
rifles at the ready, and Sean held up five fingers and began to drop them one
at a time. Before he could drop the last finger, the door handle moved and the
door clicked open.

Brooks
took a quick step back and readied his rifle. The door opened a good ten inches
but it was dark inside, and they couldn’t see past the shadows. Brooks yelled
in his best Dari for whoever was inside to come out. They stopped and listened
but heard nothing. Brooks readied a grenade. Hasan raised his hand, stepped in
front of Brooks, and quickly entered the house. Sean looked at Brad, shrugged
his shoulders, and they followed Hasan inside.

With
the door fully open the light filled the room. It was bare, just a dirt floor
with a large rug laid in the center and no other furnishings. There was a small
fireplace and just to the left of it was a long hallway that led to the back of
the home. Brad went inside and took a position in the corner aiming down the
long hallway. Sean and Brooks followed suit in opposite corners. Hasan, with
his rifle low, walked down the hallway calling out in Dari. When he reached the
end of the hall, they heard a child’s voice.

Sean
lowered his rifle and down the hallway toward Hasan. Brad could hear the two
men whispering.

“Room
is clear, come on back, guys,” Sean called out.

Brad
looked over at Brooks who just shrugged at him; Brad turned and walked down the
long hallway. At the end, he found a darkened room with beds and chairs along
all of the walls. It was filled with women and children and an old man in a
corner. Brad counted at least twelve women and just as many children. Hasan was
kneeling in front of the old man, holding his hand and whispering in his ear.

Hasan
looked back at Sean and Brad before speaking. “This is the elder, his name is
Sayed,” he said. “He says this is all that remains of their village. They live
only in this house now, the others are empty,” Hasan finished.

“Where
are the men?” Sean asked. Hasan translated the questions and Sayed spoke slowly
in a hushed voice.

“He
says his village stopped receiving visitors one month ago, so his men gathered
the stock and took them to market but they never returned,” Hasan said.

The
old man continued speaking. “He says they waited three nights, and then the
rest of the men gathered and left to search for the missing, and they also
never returned. Now it is only them. He thinks the Americans may have taken
them. He says he has seen no soldiers or fighters in weeks, we are his first
visitors,” Hasan said.

 The
old man stretched out his arms with his palms up and the women began to weep.
Hasan grabbed the old man’s hand and softly spoke to him until he put his hands
back in his lap. “He said he is ready for you to take him away, he wants to
join his sons now,” Hasan said.

Sean
stepped into the hallway and motioned for Brad and Brooks to follow him. “Well
this is a real mess,” he said.

“They
think we took their men away. Who wants to be the one to tell them we are the
good guys and it was the boogey man that took them all away?” asked Brooks.

“Or
better yet, that they are more than likely all dead or turned,” Brad added.

Hasan
stepped into the hallway and leaned against the wall. He now had his rifle
slung over his shoulder. He dug through his pack and took a long drink from his
water.

“The
elder remembers me. He believes me when I tell him we are not here to take him
away. I told him we did not take his people,” Hasan said. “They have no idea
what is going on outside of this canyon.”

 “Hasan,
I’m sorry but I am going to leave that work to you. These are your people, I’m
sure you will think of something. Can you ask if it’s OK if we hold up in one
of the houses here? And where is the water?” Sean asked.

“I
already did. The elder says we may use the house next door, it was his oldest
son’s home. The water flows from a spring located behind these homes. Go ahead
and prepare yourselves, I will stay with these people for a bit longer.” Hasan
frowned and put the cap back on his bottle and walked back into the room.

Brad
followed Sean down the hallway and out into the street. They slowly cleared the
large house next door and investigated its spaces. They found the house to be
identical to the elder’s. There was a large entry room with a rug on the floor
and a hallway leading to two smaller parlors. The stairs led to a large room on
the second floor filled with beds. There was an entrance to a balcony that had
a ladder leading to the roof. Brad climbed up it and looked out over the small
village. He heard a noise and looked to find Sean following him up the ladder.

“Should
we clear the other building?” Brad asked.

“Normally
I would, but I think we’ll be OK. There’s the spring,” Sean said, pointing.
“Let’s get some water together and start boiling. It’s probably clean here in
the mountains but why take the risk?”