Restoration

by J. F. Krause

  Ari’s biggest concerns were Tara and Ali, Tara because of her advanced pregnancy and Ali because of his very fragile mental state. The two new women survivors took charge of helping Tara navigate the steps and road hazards along the way as they walked carefully next to her; the older man had the two little boys, Dietrich and Malik in hand; and Ari walked beside Ali who was blindfolded and cuffed. They were in front of the group, while Magda walked with Helene toward the rear of the group closely followed by Khalil and Tariq. Khalil was entrusted with Noelle, and Tariq was pulling a wagon with his computer and electronic gear.

  They had waited just a little longer than they had intended principally because they had spent hours questioning Ali. Finally, after learning everything they could from him, they faced the decision of what to actually do with him. Tara was firmly of the opinion that he should to shoved over the veranda wall to what would certainly be his death several stories below. Magda, and more importantly, Ari, was willing to give him a chance to redeem himself and had decided to leave his fate to the group. The original group had fallen into the habit of taking their directions from Ari. Ari himself was unaware of that particular group dynamic, and thought he was consulting everyone before he made a decision. Being a doctor, Ari was trained to make important decisions as logically and dispassionately as possible, and right now was one of those times when decisiveness and pragmatism were paramount. Questions were few and action was quick. As long as Ari gave reasons for what he asked them to do, they fell in line. The only one who actually saw what was taking place was Magda, but she was in complete agreement with the entire leadership process and knew Ari to be highly intelligent, and, at heart, a moral man of stalwart character. Ari was the man she had raised him to be. He also listened to his mother.

  Soon after they left the apartment building and the frightening stairwell, they were joined by Emilio and another newly arrived survivor, a man in his late forties or early fifties who carried an M-16 with surprising familiarity. Ari soon learned that this new recruit was a veteran of the Christian militia that had successfully defended Achrafieh during the civil war a few years before. Almost immediately after being introduced to Ari and the others, their new defender struck up a conversation with the older man walking with Dietrich and Malik. They had been old militia comrades. In that moment, Ari decided that the first thing he had to do was to identify every skill of every survivor. If they were to rebuild their lives and their communities, they needed to know what people could and would be willing to do. And they needed to know who could help defend them if they ran across Ali’s former extremist brethren.

  As soon as the group reached the church, Khalil was quickly rescued from his baby carrying duties by Leila. And as soon as Leila had Noelle in her arms, she was calling, softly of course, for Dietrich. Once she had her two young friends, Leila spotted little Malik who was only too happy to be noticed by a suddenly maternal Leila. Carrying Noelle, she led both little boys off to a part of the church that had been designated for childcare.

  Ari found Falah and was soon getting a complete report on the day’s activities. Now that a few days had passed since the virus had struck, people had begun going out looking for family members and food, and the supply teams began encountering them in ones and twos almost immediately. As soon as people learned that there was a survivor group, no matter how small, people wanted to join them. Some, as they were checking on family members, had found complete strangers instead. Most, after having been alone for the whole time since everyone died, had begun to fear that they were destined to be alone, and the sight of any survivor came as an enormous relief to them.

  Shortly after getting his report from Falah, Ari saw Samir and Caleb enter the front of the church with a diminutive elderly woman holding the hand of a tiny little girl. Samir and Caleb had come across an elderly great-grandmother and her sole surviving family member, her two year old great-grandchild. On the night of dying, she had watched everyone she loved fall victim to this terrible illness, all save this tiny girl. Over the next few days, she had prepared her loved ones for their funerals and waited until someone came to her assistance. She had ventured out only once and discovered there were bodies in the deserted streets so she had returned to wait. Finally, Samir and Caleb came and she no longer had to wait, hiding behind the curtained window hoping for help.

  Ari asked several of the familiar survivors to pass the word that there would be a meeting in half an hour in the small chapel off to the side of the large sanctuary. He didn’t know what he wanted to say, but he knew they could only stay at the church for a few more days before they would have to be moving again in search of a more permanent place.

  When the meeting took place, it was clear that the numbers of known survivors was growing and that no one knew what to do next. In just the few minutes since Samir and Caleb had arrived with their two new survivors, another teenaged girl was escorted into the chapel by Falah who had been keeping watch at the front of the church. During that brief introduction, Ari decided that here and now, the group would work out a plan.

  “Clearly, there are still survivors out there, and we need to keep looking for them. But we also have to decide what we should do longer term than just staying here at the church. We know the harbor here in Beirut is dangerous. Is there any harbor we can use?” Ari directed his question to Ali who was never far from his side.

  “Sir, according to the plan I told you about, all of my fellow fighters were to make their way to the coast and to present themselves for service in Beirut or in Tripoli and that we would branch out from there. We were told we would be protecting the coast from invasion by the infi…. by foreign invaders. I believe all coastal areas will be dangerous.” Ali had mustered all his courage to address the group, but by now, he had reconciled himself to his impending death. He had also decided that he deserved to die, but he wanted to do what he could to make amends for as long as he still had breath.

  “Dr. Haddad, why are we including this, uh, this uh, terrorist? in this discussion?” There were a number of voices expressing similar sentiments.

  “I believe Ali has demonstrated his desire to help. Some of you are now aware that Ali was part of the terrorist group that has been so destructive to Syria and Iraq, but it is my belief that Ali was young and impressionable when he left his home in Belgium. As some of you know, I was raised mostly in the United States. There they have stories of young boys who run away to join the circus because they want excitement and glamour. They end up spending long days feeding the animals and cleaning up their cages and experience nothing but hard work, boredom and regret. I think Ali ran off to join the circus only to learn that the animals were in control, and he became their prisoner. Whatever happens to Ali, whatever you decide to do with him, I believe he has information we need to hear.”

  Ari heard muttering, but no real disagreement. It helped that the terror brought about by Ali’s former comrades hadn’t spread to Beirut before the sickness. Most of the group were willing to go along with Ari for the moment.

  “Okay, Ali. Where are we least likely to run into fighters from your group…your former group?”

  “They call themselves warriors for the Caliphate. I think we are safe for the time being if we stay away from the coast. I think we can take the highway toward Damascus, and then we can cut back to Latakia. There’s a Russian base there. The Caliphate won’t risk a fight with them. Not yet anyway. They want Lebanon and southern Syria first.”

  “If we take that route, Ari, maybe we can head for Halba before get to the Syrian border. There’s a UN base there. They might be able to help us. That is where Joao and I were headed next.” As Emilio spoke, Ali was forgotten for the moment.

  “Why do we have to go so far away. I know why we’re leaving Beirut, but why are we leaving Lebanon. This is our home. And forgive me for saying this, but Dr. Haddad, you’ve been gone almost all your life. Lebanon may not feel the same way to you as it does to us.” That was one of the recently arrived sur
vivors that Ari had met only an hour or so earlier.

  “Fair enough. You’re absolutely right. I’m willing to leave Beirut and Lebanon because I have a daughter, little Helene who’s asleep right over there.” Ari took a moment to point in Helene’s direction. She, like most of the youngest children was asleep on a pile of blankets in the makeshift children’s section.

  “For centuries, Lebanon has been a wild mix of different languages, religions, ethnicities, and races. Sometimes, the only thing that kept us from killing each other was that the world was watching. I don’t think they’re watching anymore. I think that for the next several generations, fighting will be the new reality for us here. Many of us in this room are Christian, a few of us are other religions, and some of us have no religion at all, but whatever we are, if we decide to stay here, we are going to end up fighting for our right to live our lives as we ourselves decide. We’re surrounded by groups of people who want us to convert, or conform, or blend in. And there isn’t anyone out there who can or will come to our aid. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life fighting, and right now we can choose to go somewhere else, somewhere where we won’t have to constantly defend ourselves. There’s a group of people in California who are pulling themselves back together. They’ve broadcast that they welcome everyone who wants to come there to join them. The world’s become a big empty place, and I don’t want to stay someplace where people are willing to kill me because I’m different from them.

  So, think of me as you will, I’m going to find a place where I can raise my daughter in safety and peace. I was planning to take my family and those who wanted to join me, and leave for Cypress on our family yacht. That may not be possible now. And there are too many of us to do that anyway unless we find a bigger ship. But maybe all of you want to stay here in Lebanon. In that case, my family and I will still find a boat and leave. You’ll all have to decide for yourselves whether you want to stay or go with me or go somewhere else entirely.”

  There was a great silence that fell over the group. Then, from the children’s section of the room, Leila stood and walked closer to the forty or so sitting on the chapel’s benches. “I’ll go with Dr. Haddad. I love Beirut. My family, my history is here, but I can build a new home and be part of a new family wherever I decide to give my heart to.”

  “My brother, sister, and I will be going with Dr. Haddad, too. I’m, or I was, in the Lebanese Army, and I’ll fight for a place to live in peace, but I’ll go with Ari, Dr. Haddad.” Samir was standing with Hana and Caleb beside him. They were each holding one of his hands.

  One by one, or two by two, most of the group indicated their willingness to follow Dr. Haddad. Had they not had to leave Beirut because of the hundreds of thousands of dead bodies and the threat of disease, it might have been a different outcome. Beirut was their beloved home, but it couldn’t be for years to come. That made the decision easier for many.

  “I need to know one thing, Dr. Haddad. You said that most of the people here were Christian. I am Shiite. What’s to stop you from demanding that I convert or blend in?”

  Ari was looking at a tall man of about his own age with a black beard tinged with a bit of gray. “Wherever I am, there will be no religion better than any other. I will not rest in my search for a place and a people who live and feel the same way. That’s all I can promise.”

  The man sat and that was the end of that discussion. Even though no decision had been made during the group discussion, now Ari was focused on what needed to be done.

  “I’m going to suggest that we head to Latakia via Halba. We can hope we find an active UN presence in Halba, and, perhaps, we can find help getting us on our way to California. Samir, can you round us up some army transport vehicles to get us there?”

  Seeing Samir nodding his head yes, Ari smiled and said, to no one in particular, “Do we have breakfast plans?”

  And with that, the meeting was over.

  Three days later, when they left for Halba, their numbers had grown to well over 100 minus a handful that decided to stay in the Beirut area. Not long after starting their journey, they stopped to regroup at the point where they had to exit the Damascus highway in order to head northwest to Halba. As Ari climbed out of the second truck in the little convoy, he saw that their six military vehicles had been joined by three automobiles, a jeep, a small truck, and two motorcycles. After quickly confirming that these new additions were planning to remain with the group, Ari asked Samir to set up an interview process so that when someone joined their group, they could ascertain what their intentions were. Some of the newly joining vehicles needed to return to their prior locations to gather survivors who were waiting to see if they would be accepted into the group. Ari agreed to hold this position for two more hours, but he also directed that perimeter guards be put in place. During the next couple hours, as additional survivors became part of the group and the trip recommenced, Ari never stopped worrying.

  One of the more surprising things about the new people joining them was that most of them hadn’t seen the convoy on the highway, although some had. They had heard that there was a convoy heading to Halba and even further north in search of a ship to take them to America, and specifically to California where someone named Bobby had offered them a new home. Their time alone had taught them to fear the future and this group of Lebanese Army trucks was their best hope for survival in this frightening and deadly new world.

  Best of all, they found a survivor who knew how to operate a HAM radio and who had been in touch with Halba and a network stretching all the way to California. Now for the first time, Ari’s group was able to make some concrete plans.

  As they approached Halba’s UN base of operations, they saw for themselves that Halba was no longer functioning in any military sense. The streets all around were devoid of traffic, and there was no sign of electricity or power of any kind, but there were clearly signs of survival. First of all, the gates of the base were open. And as soon as they passed the gates, Ari saw two young adults running around a corner, not in fear or panic, but at a steady gait indicating purpose. Soon enough, the convoy turned a corner to pull up in front of a dimly lit office building holding about twenty people all standing and smiling expectantly at the arrivals from Beirut.

  Ari stepped out of his truck flanked by Emilio and Joao, both wearing their blue UN berets. He was met by the woman in charge wearing civilian clothing but clearly identified as a UN functionary of some kind. Ari immediately offered his hand for a handshake, but was instead embraced in a warm hug by the smiling young woman who promptly asked, in Arabic, if he spoke English.

  “Yes I do”.

  “Good, because you just heard almost all of my Arabic. I’m Gwendolyn Owusu, deputy director of procurements and supplies here. I’m happy to be at your service. As we told your radio operator, unfortunately, I’m all that remains of the personnel here, but I’m happy to be joined by several citizens of this fine country who have preceded you here, some by only a few minutes as well as a few local expats. We are all at your disposal and wish to join you on your journey if you will permit.”

  “Wow. I’m delighted to make your acquaintance. I see you have lights; do you have any other amenities? Showers? A place where we can prepare a hot meal and a place where our children can run and stretch their legs?”

  “Yes we do! You can imagine our surprise and relief when we heard there was a convoy headed our way. Since then, we learned you are mostly civilians as we are, but we have prepared a meal in the mess for all of you nonetheless. And we have places where you can shower, sleep, and refresh yourselves as we resupply for the next leg of the journey. Please follow me, and I’ll take you to the large meeting hall where we have prepared dinner. There are more of you than we expected, but, of course, I am very happy to see every one of you.”

  After thanking Gwendolyn, or Gwen as she preferred to be called, Ari set about getting everyone off the trucks or out of the other vehicles and into the large hall where several peopl
e were putting out the food that had been prepared in anticipation of their arrival.

  Once everyone was assigned a shower time slot and a bed, he returned to talk to Gwen. “Have you encountered any fighters from what I think is called the Caliphate?”

  “Not personally, but some of the others have stories to tell. They don’t like foreign survivors I understand, but since I think they are all foreign themselves, that seems a bit misplaced. There were a number of expats here in Halba before this thing happened, but this thing hit so quickly and so completely that I’m sure a number of people are simply stranded with no idea what to do. I’m sure there are more survivors out there.

  Is it true you’re planning to travel up to Latakia to see if you can get help from the Russian base there?”

  “That was the plan when we left Beirut, especially if Halba wasn’t in a position to help us evacuate. I’m guessing you’re not much better prepared for evacuation than we are.”

  “Well, yes and no. We can’t help you get out by sea, but we have all the supplies you need to get out by land. I’m also afraid that when it comes to Latakia, that ship has already sailed. The Russian military survivors and their few surviving dependents left on one of their smaller ships day before yesterday. They disabled the equipment they left behind, but they did leave a lot of supplies that we may find useful. And of course, we have all the UN supplies that were here in Halba at the time of the viral strike. As I said, I don’t think getting out by sea is possible without a fight. I don’t know how strong the terrorists, the Caliphate fighters are, but I do know they have snipers. Some of our survivors have told some frightening stories. I suspect you have some stories to tell, as well. I also suspect you have a lot of very unskilled civilians, including a number of women and children. And fighting an unseen enemy isn’t a good option. Am I right?”

  “That covers it. We have a handful of experienced fighters, including former Christian and Muslim militiamen. We also have two UN troops, one Lebanese Army soldier, and a policeman from Tripoli. If we keep getting more survivors we’ll probably add a few more to that number. Right now we’re going to need more trucks, maybe even a bus or two. We’re outgrowing our transportation, just like we outgrew my family yacht. As you can see, we’re doing this one day at a time.”