The Lost Journal (A Secret Apocalypse Story)

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The Lost Journal (A Secret Apocalypse Story) Page 3

by James Harden


  The old man stopped the cart next to a massive ditch about a hundred feet away from the mud huts. Two men unloaded the bodies. From what we could tell, the bodies appeared to be fellow guerrillas. But we couldn’t be totally sure.

  The bodies were dumped unceremoniously in the ditch.

  Once the cart was empty, the old man and the cart disappeared from view. But then another cart appeared. A bigger cart. It was carrying even more bodies. They dumped these bodies on the ground in a heap. I noticed a couple more men next to the pile. They had begun to dig another mass grave.

  Thirty seconds later, Franco tapped me on the shoulder and nodded back towards the east. "They’re here," he whispered.

  I turned my head to have a look. It took me a split second to spot them. The jets were so low to the ground I could barely see them. I actually thought they were helicopters at first.

  But they came in fast. Too fast for helicopters. And way too fast to be flying at such low levels, through a rocky valley in a mountain range. The pilots were either extremely good or extremely crazy. Maybe both.

  They were silent in their approach. A split second later, they dropped their bombs and climbed up and out of the valley and hit the after burners.

  It wasn’t until they began their climb that we could hear the deafening roar of their engines. In the blink of an eye the jets had climbed out of the valley and disappeared over the mountain range.

  Meanwhile the bombs and the missiles they had launched streaked towards their targets. The warheads erupted in giant orange fireballs. Black columns of smoke rolled up into the sky as if they were chasing the F16’s.

  The once silent valley was now full of noise, full of death and destruction.

  A few seconds later there was another explosion, as something, maybe an ammunition supply shed caught on fire and detonated.

  The missiles and bombs they had dropped completely annihilated the mud huts. But we couldn’t see from where we were if the cave had been affected. Who knows how big that underground section was? It could’ve cut right back into the mountain range.

  The noise of the explosions continued to reverberate and echo throughout the valley.

  It was impossible not to be humbled by the firepower of the air strike. I would not want to be caught in the middle of one. Not ever.

  Several minutes later the smoke had drifted away. Franco and I scanned the area. As predicted, the mud huts were completely destroyed.

  Once the smoke had cleared away, the survivors emerged. They seemed to be running around in a panic. Strangely, as some of the men searched the huts and the surrounding area for survivors, a couple of other men continued to dig the mass grave. Another cart emerged from the cave. It was also loaded up with bodies. There’s no way they were killed by the bombing, I thought.

  The other men continued to search for survivors in amongst the ruins of the mud huts. But we knew they wouldn’t find any.

  We had seen enough. Franco and I were just about to make a move and get to the extraction point, when all of a sudden one of the men pointed up to our location.

  I looked over at Franco. I was confused. There was no way they could see us, right? If the guy on the back of the cart couldn’t see us when they rode pass, there was no way they could see us from all the way down in the valley.

  But then it hit me. The guy pointing up at us was probably the guy on the back of the donkey cart. He had been spooked. That’s why he had a look around. And now the bombing had confirmed his suspicions. Suddenly, a whole squad of bad guys emerged from the cave. They began taking up positions around the ruins of their crumbled buildings. At least the intel was correct, I thought. It was definitely a hideout.

  A few seconds later they opened fire. Fortunately they were lousy shots. At least they were to begin with. They slowly adjusted their aim. The bullets started landing closer, smashing into the surrounding rocks.

  Then they started advancing on us.

  At this point we had two options. Fall back or return fire.

  Falling back was the nice, easy option. But these guys knew the terrain. They knew every rock and goat track and hidden passage. They would run us down in no time.

  So we had no choice but to return fire.

  At first Franco was acting as my spotter and I was able to take out a number of bad guys. But then they started getting closer, their aim was getting better. Franco had to put the spotting scope down and return fire as well. He unleashed with his rifle, laying down a suppressive line of fire, pinning them down so I could pick them off. He also pumped a few 40mm grenades down on them.

  I’m not sure how long the fire fight lasted. Time seems to lose all meaning when I get jacked up on adrenalin. It’s like I become super focused. My eye sight turns into what I would imagine an eagle’s eyesight to be. Everything kind of goes into slow motion. I can see the enemy, my prey as clear as day.

  I inhale. Exhale. Squeeze the trigger.

  And move on to the next target.

  I’m not sure how many we took out but after awhile they stopped shooting at us. The valley fell silent and we made our retreat.

  We reported the incident to Command. Surprisingly they didn’t seem too concerned with the actual fire fight. They wanted to know the specific details of the bombing, they wanted the damage report. We reported that the airstrike had completely obliterated the small buildings within the valley. But when we told them we couldn’t really confirm any battle damage for the cave section of the hideout, they didn’t look too happy.

  They then asked us if any of the guerrillas got up after the bombing or after the fire fight.

  It was a strange question.

  "No, sir." Franco answered. "I’m pretty sure we eliminated any of the survivors during the fire fight."

  "Good."

  They marked something on a map of the area and we were dismissed.

  Jan 16th - New Orders

  I can’t believe it. We’re being redeployed. A whole regiment. Over five thousand soldiers.

  And we’re being sent to Australia of all places. It just doesn’t make sense to me. Australia is a peaceful country.

  When they told us we were being re-deployed to Australia I initially thought there had been some sort of natural disaster, like an earthquake or tsunami. Or maybe both.

  I was wrong.

  Apparently there’s been an outbreak of a virus and we’re being sent to help enforce a quarantine.

  Again, I can’t believe it. Re-deploying a whole regiment of troops to help with the quarantine and containment of a virus? It doesn’t make any damn sense.

  We’ve heard rumors they want battle hardened Marines down there. Why? I have no freakin idea.

  I mean, why the hell would they take us out of Afghanistan for a goddamn babysitting gig down in Australia? Shouldn’t the Australian armed forces be able to handle it by themselves?

  I can’t figure it out.

  They briefed us quickly. Apparently the virus that’s causing all the problems is an extremely dangerous and virulent strain. It is extremely contagious. It changes people. A person infected with this particular virus becomes violent and aggressive. They said there has been an outbreak within an immigration center in the Australian outback, at a place called Woomera.

  The immigration center is where they process the majority of refugees and asylum seekers who had come to Australia in search of a better life. This is the place where they determine whether or not they are allowed to stay in the country or if they are to be sent home.

  Basically, it’s the place where their fate is decided.

  When we arrive there we will join up with the Australian Army. Our mission will be to contain the virus and enforce the quarantine by any means necessary.

  We were flying out immediately.

  It was worrying to think about. I mean seriously, why did they need us? Weren’t we better off here? Weren’t we needed here?

  The news was shocking and unsettling. But ultimately, we had to follow orders. />
  Semper Fi. Always faithful.

  And the weird thing is, now that I’ve packed my bag, I’m actually starting to accept that we are leaving Afghanistan. I’m actually kinda looking forward to this little adventure.

  The main reason I’m looking forward to it?

  Rebecca.

  I know Australia is a huge country but I can’t help the way I feel. I’m getting excited and nervous. I can’t stop thinking about how I would be setting foot in the same country as her. I can’t stop thinking how there is a chance, a one in a million chance, but still a chance that I would see her. I have butterflies in my stomach. Giant, monstrous butterflies.

  I wonder if it would be awkward if I saw her? I wonder if it could ever go back to the way things used to be?

  All of a sudden I can’t stop thinking about being with her. Hanging out. Like we used to.

  Hanging out with Rebecca was the best thing in the world. It felt right. Natural. I don’t know how to explain it but whenever we were together, it felt like nothing else in the world mattered.

  This one time my parents flew to Tokyo on business and left me at home. It was summer and I had the whole house to myself. It was awesome. It’s not like I was gonna go crazy and have a whole bunch of parties or anything like that. But it was fun. I could stay up late, watch movies; crank my music as loud as I wanted. And I could spend all day and all night with Rebecca.

  I had only just met her but I was desperate to know more about her, to know everything about her.

  I suggested we camp out in my backyard. It was a hot summer and I figured it would be fun to sleep out under the stars. I know it was kinda stupid and childish and as soon as the words left my mouth I was fully expecting her to laugh at my silly idea. But to my surprise she said she’d love to.

  My heart skipped a beat and it took all of my concentration to contain my excitement. I played it cool even though I was jumping for joy on the inside.

  Her mom was working a lot of night shifts so we’d sleep out in the tent in the backyard and then Rebecca would wake up at sunrise and sneak back into her house before her mom got home.

  During the night we would read comic books by torchlight and talk about who our favorite X-men were. Mine was Wolverine. Hers was Storm.

  I’d say, "But Wolverine has claws and is practically indestructible."

  And she’d say, "Yeah but Storm can control the weather. She can make a class five tornado whenever she wants."

  Then I’d ask her who her favorite Ninja Turtle was.

  "Definitely, Michelangelo. He’s a party dude. And nun-chucks are like the hardest martial art weapon to master."

  "But what about Leonardo?"

  "He’s too straight edge. He’s too boring."

  The she’d ask me who my favorite Ninja Turtle was but I could never decide. I liked Leonardo because he was the leader and he had two samurai swords. But I also liked Raphael because red was my favorite color and he was a total badass.

  So I could never decide.

  During the night we would also scare the hell out of each other with ghost stories. They weren’t the urban legend type ghost stories, the ‘oh my god, the call is coming from inside the house!’ type ghost stories. They were more like what would you do if - insert horrifying thing - happened?

  I’d say, "What would you do if the city was suddenly overrun by killer robots?"

  And she’d say, "I’d hide in your basement. We’d be safe there."

  That made me laugh. Rebecca was in awe of all the training equipment my dad had set up down in our basement. So during the day, we’d go down there and I would teach her to shoot a bow and arrow and how to throw a knife and how to shoot a gun. We practiced karate and jujitsu for hours and hours.

  I was always amazed at how quickly she learnt. She was like a sponge. She absorbed everything.

  New York was in the middle of a record heat-wave that summer, so after a couple hours or so of training we’d both be drenched in sweat.

  I couldn’t help but think Rebecca looked damn sexy when she worked up a sweat.

  After cooling down, we’d lie out on the grass in my tiny backyard and get some sun. Then we’d ride our bikes to the store so we could stock up on MnM’s and Coke and corn chips and salsa for the night. When we returned to the safety of our tent we would spray each other with a water bottle to sooth our sun burnt skin.

  After two weeks of camping in my backyard, the tent had killed the patch of grass beneath it. When my parents found out, they didn’t let us camp in the backyard anymore.

  I can’t stop smiling as I write this. I want nothing more than for everything to go back to the way it was between us. I want to stay up all night with her. I want to talk about movies and comic books with her. I want to lay out in the sun with her.

  I know it’s a long shot but I can’t help but think maybe it’s meant to be. Maybe this is destiny. I mean, what are they odds that I’d be re-deployed in Australia of all places?

  I know it’s a big country but I’m going to do everything in my power to find her. I’m going to find her and say I’m sorry. I’m going to give her the letter I wrote for her, the letter I should’ve given her the day I left.

  And whatever happens, happens.

  But I’m not going down without a fight.

  Yeah. Maybe this is destiny.

  January 18th – The Australian Outback (The Red Center)

  Wow. Sixteen hour flight time. Thank God they gave us sleeping pills. The wheels of our C17 Globemaster hitting the tarmac was what actually woke me up.

  The first thing I noticed when we stepped off the plane was the heat. It was well over a hundred degrees. A hot wind blew in from across the desert, providing no relief at all. When you breathed in, it felt like the air was burning your nostrils and the back of your throat.

  It was a shock to go from an Afghanistan winter to an Australian summer.

  When I stepped off the plane I could see a lot of activity. The size of the military force that had been deployed here was ridiculous. In my opinion it was way too much for the tiny town of Woomera. The population was just over a thousand people. And we had a whole regiment. Five thousand troops!

  Sometimes I question the sanity of the Command.

  As soon as we stepped off the plane we were briefed immediately.

  Apparently the immigration processing center just outside the town is where the outbreak of the virus first occurred. I’m not sure what the population of the immigration center is but there’s no way it warrants the amount of soldiers that have been deployed here.

  It borders on comical.

  We’ve got a whole fleet of transport aircraft, Humvees, tanks, Apache gunships, A10 bombers.

  I mean, what the hell did they need A10’s for?

  It’s complete overkill.

  Apparently there are even a couple of aircraft carriers making their way into Australian waters as well. It doesn’t make any sense. I’m pretty sure the Australian armed forces could’ve handled this just fine on their own.

  Afternoon Orientation – The Mission.

  There were three main areas that we’d be required to patrol.

  The town of Woomera.

  The immigration center.

  And the Woomera Military Testing Site.

  The testing site was a huge area that was used for hazardous weapons and explosives testing. It stretched way out into the desert. Something like 50,000 square miles. Apparently it is the largest land-based weapons testing site in the world.

  Because the testing site was so large, the majority of our forces would be deployed out there in the absolute middle of nowhere in five separate temporary bases. The area would also be patrolled by helicopters and predator drones.

  Basically, our main objective will be to secure the quarantine around these two facilities and the town itself. Sounded easy enough. Sounded boring enough.

  I must admit I kind of tuned out after a few minutes. I think they started talking about the virus, how t
hey’ve tested on lab rats and rhesus monkeys, and how the only way to prevent a carrier from spreading the infection was to destroy certain areas of their brain. I know I should’ve been paying better attention but I couldn’t help it. I’m not sure if it was the heat, or the jet lag but I just couldn’t focus. And I couldn’t stop thinking about Rebecca.

  This is going to sound weird. But deep down I think I’m a hopeless romantic. Actually, I know I’m a hopeless romantic. I was convinced it was fate that had brought me here. Fate had given me a chance to find her, to tell her that I was sorry, tell her how I feel.

  The shrink said something about seeking forgiveness. Redemption.

  Well, maybe this was my chance.

  After the briefing we settled into our barracks.

  On the one hand I still thought that it was a mistake to have brought this many troops here to this peaceful and isolated part of the world, especially since we still had a job to do in Afghanistan. Insurgents were still striking out against us. They were getting bolder. Smarter. And they were continuing to attack and operate even in the middle of the cold winter months.

  But we had been given new orders. And there was nothing I could do about that. We were here to enforce the quarantine. I guess we should all consider ourselves lucky. Afghanistan is a dangerous place.

  This babysitting job will be a walk in the park.

  January 20th – Opal Mine

  We had two straight days of boredom and patrolling the small township. For the most part of those two days I was waving flies away from my mouth and eyes - seriously no one ever mentioned anything about the freakin flies out here. I bet they don’t put that on any tourist brochures.

  But yeah, after two straight days of boredom we received a call for help.

  It’s funny. During those two days, I was hoping and praying for some action. Something to do. Anything.

  There’s a reason people say, ‘Be careful what you wish for’.

 

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