by J. Thorn
First he apologized for the inconveniences people were going through. The shrewd bastard even apologized for the bad behavior of some troopers and said they would be punished. Having said all that, he said that our current living conditions were unavoidable as we were still in dangerous territory as yesterday’s attack by the Danavs showed. He also thanked people for helping him start human society afresh the way it was always meant to be – people living together in harmony, each doing work they were best suited for. Some leading, some protecting and some serving. The bastard made slavery seem like a duty to the Gods. But then came the zinger – he promised that our ‘inconvenience’ was about to come to an end. The turd made it sound like rape and murder were a minor hassle, but what he had to offer was clearly something so valuable to the people huddled around me that they were willing to go along with him.
He talked of how the time had come to stop hiding in the forests and start resettling the cities. He talked of how we would head to Gangtok soon, where his men had scouted out a location for his headquarters. I suspected he was talking about my former home on the hill. Then he told people that they would have houses of their own. No more sleeping in tents, no more hiding in the woods. We would get back to civilized living. Of course, he made no mention of the rotting corpses and the Moreko who were still lurking in the city.
Bharti’s persuasive and he’s also a man of action. Our move to the promised land starts tomorrow.
Day 124. A Walk in the Park.
Yesterday was spent preparing for the march. I’ve done my share of marches. It’s the unglamorous side of soldiering they never put on the shiny brochures – the fact that you’ll spend most of your time lugging around heavy packs in terrible terrain and weather. We were expected to carry our own tents and possessions, of which I had very little to begin with. The bigger problem was water and food. The camp had a small canal nearby which provided drinking water, and people had learnt to live off the forest, hunting what they could. Now we had to figure out how to get water for the four-hour trek that lay ahead of us. Troopers had scouted ahead and reported a waterfall a couple of hours away and we were asked to carry enough water to last that long, especially in case any of the kids wanted water. That sounded fine, but most of the civvies didn’t have bottles like the troopers, and I saw a few families carrying water in boots. Necessity is called the mother of invention, but from what I’ve seen, it is also the mother of desperate measures.
Day 124. Night.
Been walking two hours now and we’re stopping. We started in the late morning and should have been in Gangtok by now, but the going’s been tough. There are close to two dozen kids and there’s no way they can keep up. Half the troopers went ahead, but the others are around, all heavily armed. I don’t think they need to worry – nobody’s going to try and escape in this jungle, not with the Moreko all around us.
Oh yes, they’re there. We haven’t seen them, but I can occasionally see movement in the distance. And yes, I can smell them.
Bharti’s gone ahead in his chopper and a young trooper (obviously not the one I’d smacked with a shit-covered shovel) came up and chatted with me. He was scared, and when he heard I had been a soldier, he probably just wanted reassurance. I don’t think I reassured him much about what lay ahead in Gangtok, but I did learn something. Bharti’s running low on fuel for the chopper and the Chinese are gaining, so he wants a safer base in Gangtok. Also, the troopers are grumbling. They signed up because their commandant believed in Bharti and because they thought that if they stayed alive long enough, government forces would come and get them so they could get back to their families. There are the rotten apples who are beginning to have fun by abusing the power they enjoy, but by and large, they’re not a happy bunch. Their commandant’s dead and they get the feeling no help is coming.
All of it is useful knowledge to store away, but right now I have more immediate concerns on my mind. Negi told me that we’re planning to camp for the night, which sounds insane, but in the fading light, the forest’s already almost pitch black and continuing is probably even more insane. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place. So now we wait… and pray that the Moreko leave us alone.
Day 125. Bloodbath.
My hands are still shaking as I try and write, but I’ll persist. Don’t be too alarmed at the red splotches on the margins of this page. It’s only blood. If you’ve survived the rise of the Moreko to read this, I’m assuming it won’t bother you. You’ve probably seen far worse.
The Moreko came soon after nightfall. The first to fall were the troopers guarding us a kilometer to the East. We didn’t see them fall, but their screaming told us all we needed to know. It’s the kind of sound you never want to hear – it will haunt you forever.
As the troopers were ripped apart, the rest of us tried to get some sort of defenses in order. The problem was that many of the civvies and troopers alike were convinced that the Moreko were supernatural monsters who could not be killed. The trooper leading us was babbling about Danavs when I got up and slapped him hard. Seems stupid to slap a man who’s carrying an assault rifle and when his friends have rifles pointed at you, but I was beyond caring. If I was meant to die in this shithole, so be it, but I was not going to go down without a fight.
Negi was right beside me and pleaded with the troopers to listen to me. He embellished my bio a lot, making my achievements in the Army sound like something that would have done Alexander the Great proud, and certainly bearing no resemblance to the shambles that had been my military career. At any rate, it seemed to work, and I got the civvies together in the middle of a defensive circle, women and children ringed by men. Each man was holding whatever weapon he had – in many cases, nothing more than shovels or hammers, but they looked like they were ready to fight to protect their families. That was a good sign. Any battle is won or lost in the soldier’s eyes well before it begins – you can tell whether he is going to fight or flee. We might not have stood much of a chance, but at least they would fight.
I asked the troopers to plant our lamps around us so we could see the Moreko when they came, and we then took position. I got a rifle from a trooper and as we waited, I was reminded of an old Western I had seen once, with the cowboys circling the wagons as the marauding Indians approached. Of course, in this case, there was little chance of the cavalry riding in to the rescue.
As the first Moreko showed himself, I shot the ugly fucker through the head. As some of the troopers began spraying rounds, I kept screaming at them to aim, and we kept firing. God, there must have been dozens of the Moreko. They kept coming and we kept tearing them to shreds, but at such close quarters, they were always going to get near enough for us to have to mix it up.
My rifle had a bayonet attached and I speared the first one, an old fogey with one arm missing, through the throat before I pulled out my rifle and shot him in the head. I wasn’t sure what was going on around me, but the screams told me that some of the troopers had been taken. The next Moreko I faced was a young girl wearing a pink Barbie t-shirt. I shot Barbie through the eye and moved on.
I heard a growl and turned to see a trooper, dripping blood from bite marks to the neck. His eyes were yellowed and he lunged to bite me. I blew his head off, though later I remember being shocked at how quickly he had turned on being bitten.
In a chaotic, no-holds-barred fight like this, everyone’s usually screaming their lungs out. In the Army, people would be screaming their regimental war cries, which would soon give away to any abuse they could come up with. I was screaming as well, though I don’t remember what I was saying, as I kicked another Moreko down and caught up in the madness of the moment, stomped his head with my boot. I had moved on to the next one when the one whose good looks had been embellished by my boot marks on his face got up behind me and grabbed my leg. Negi shot him in the neck as I grappled with the one in front of me. I could smell the rot on his breath as the Moreko came towards me, grabbing my rifle with both hands. He was strong an
d I let him have it. As he fell back, the rifle useless in his hands, I grabbed a handgun lying on the ground and shot him twice.
I heard the shots and screaming stop and looked up to see the remaining troopers standing around, most covered with blood of the Moreko they had killed. The jungle floor was littered with bodies. Most were Moreko, but we had lost eight men and a woman.
Something’s changed after the battle. The troopers aren’t pointing their guns at me any more and without anyone saying anything, I seem to be one in charge. One more thing has changed. Now I have a gun.
Day 126. Choices, choices.
We resumed walking and now we’ve taken a break on the outskirts of Gangtok. The place smells foul and several of my companions, troopers and civvies alike, blanched when they realized what was left of the city. We can’t see any Moreko but that certainly does not mean they are not in there somewhere. One of the troopers told me that he got orders on the radio to head for the hill where the bungalow was. I spotted Bharti’s chopper a few minutes ago. Once we enter the city, I cannot turn back. He’ll have all his troopers there and the chopper watching from above. If I enter the city, I become a prisoner once more. Yes, I have a gun, but when I talked things over with Negi after the battle in the jungle, it’s clear most of the civvies won’t take part in any escape attempt. I can’t say I blame them – with their families at stake, I’m not sure I would have attempted any heroics had I been in their place.
But that leaves me with a choice. Do I go into the city and further captivity or do I take my chances and make a break for it?
Day 128. The thing about choices.
We pretend to have control over the choices we make in life. The harsh reality is that most are foisted on us, and we end up dealing with the aftermath with the illusion of choice being at best a post-facto rationalization. I certainly never chose to end my military career in disgrace, I never chose to lose my bloody leg, and I never chose to have my wife dump me. Yet all of those happened, and I have spent the last few years messing my life up even further, if that was possible. Similarly, I thought I had a choice as we stood on the outskirts of Gangtok. As things turned out, I had none.
As they say, be careful what you wish for because you may just get it. I had wished for freedom, and I’m not sure I am at all equipped to deal with it now that I have it presented to me.
Yesterday morning I woke up, expecting to be led into the city. Overnight, I had weighed my chances and come to the conclusion that an escape attempt would be spectacular, heroic, but ultimately end in my bloody death. So I had resolved to go along, and bide my time. Little did I know what was in store for me.
I woke up not to any cheery good mornings but the booms of mortar rounds exploding nearby. It seemed Bharti was not the only one to come up with the bright idea of setting up base in Gangtok. His rivals had followed us, and were now firing the first salvos in what they thought was their attempt to dislodge Bharti. Little did they know that the fat toad was sitting in the bungalow while we took the brunt of their attack. In the heavily wooded area, their mortar rounds were never accurate enough to cause much real damage, but they gave me an opportunity to escape. The civvies screamed and cried and the troopers scrambled for cover. I pulled Negi aside and told him that we would never have a better chance at getting away. If Bharti’s troopers ever found us, we could always claim we had gotten separated in the chaos.
Negi spread the word, and many of the civvies came along. So here I am, with Negi and twenty other civvies, all looking at me to tell them what to do. God help them.
Day 129. I am Spartacus, or perhaps not.
I remember this US TV show (and if you happen to read this, know that I was motivated as much by the storyline as the promise of gratuitous sex and violence) called Spartacus. As you know, it was a story about a slave leading fellow slaves to freedom through a bloody rebellion against their Roman masters. Well, more than enough blood has been shed, and I am the nominal leader of a bunch of former slaves. The problem, you see, is that I have no frigging clue about what to do next. Every time the civvies look at me with hope in their eyes, I want to scream at them that I have no idea what to do.
Yet, they hang on, and I carry on the charade of being their leader. We are now more than two kilometers from the site where we were attacked and I can still hear the occasional mortar and machine-gun fire. Bharti and his rivals are duking it out, fighting over the remains of a city that holds little treasure beyond the decayed remains of its former inhabitants. But at least that means they don’t have time to chase us.
The contrast with Spartacus could not be starker. He commanded a group of battle hardened gladiators. I have with me six men, eight women and six children. Our inventory of possible weapons comprises two rifles, one pistol, three knives and four milk bottles. Last, but by no means least, Spartacus got laid in every second episode.
I lie alone in the forest, waiting to be exposed for the failure I am. Negi and the others seem to think I have some miraculous way of seeing them through to safety. I’m afraid they are going to be terribly disappointed.
Day 129. Education.
Everyone else is asleep. We found a small clearing in the woods that led to a depression that should be hard to find. At any rate, we were all tired enough to convince ourselves that this was a good hiding place. Negi gamely stood guard with me but it was clear he would fall over if he tried staying awake any longer, so I asked him to take a nap. We have only one lamp with us, which I’ve kept on so I can at least see what’s going on around us. The fact that it will also attract attention doesn’t really help, but I have little choice.
We heard the Moreko earlier and if a group of them stumbled onto us, we are finished. We just don’t have the numbers, the weapons, or the energy left to put up any sort of a fight. So here I am, sitting as usual with my notebook, scribbling away. By the faint light of the lamp, I can see Negi and the others huddled together. For a minute, the thought did cross my mind that I could just slip away, but then I put it aside. I may be a selfish asshole, but even I wouldn’t abandon these civvies to a certain death.
Did you know I studied history and literature in school? I loved learning about the past and I always wanted to write. Talk about useless skills. I ended up in the Army after my old man passed away. My father had been a rifleman in the Army – we never had much money, but we had the pride that comes with being in uniform and he always made sure I got the best education possible. My mother died when I was a toddler so it was always just me and my father. He would tell me he wanted his son to be an officer so he could salute him. When he passed, and I was left with little money or prospects, his commanding officer asked me to try out for the Army. If nothing else, he told me, it would help me get a degree and I could figure out what I wanted to do later. It was one of the rare moments when I let sentimentality get the better of me. I remembered my father and said yes.
Now sitting in the darkness, surrounded by Moreko and with the sounds of gunfire still echoing around us, I realize that all those choices were meant to lead up to this moment. My military career may have ended prematurely, but everything I learnt there is distilled into this single moment when all my skills and all my training will be tested as never before. As I sit and look at what the civilians been reduced to, I feel ashamed of all of us humans. Did we royally screw up our world or what? All that we built up over thousands of years – gone – poof! Just like that. We’re back to living like uncivilized brutes while warlords and Godmen like Bharti fight over the spoils and ordinary folks like Negi are treated as slaves.
It just pisses me off.
I’ve gone through much longer periods without sleep and food, so I can keep going a bit longer, but the kids will need some food tomorrow.
I have a rifle next to me and a knife tucked into my belt. And tomorrow, I plan to go hunting.
Day 130. Hunting season.
We woke up early and the Moreko didn’t seem to be around so I asked the folks to get ready to hel
p fetch some lunch. The kids were awesome. The oldest is eight and the youngest four, and they had a ball of a time running through the woods, disturbing the branches as much as they could. I never had kids and never thought of myself as someone who could like kids, but I must admit to having smiled for the first time in a long, long while.
Of course it was all fun and games till they saw the blood. I gather that all my companions are city folks. One of them was a doctor, another an architect. Educated, civilized sorts. Just the wrong kind of people to have with you when you’re stranded in a forest, trying to hunt wild animals and escape hordes of undead monsters.
Anyways, I caught a small hare and some of the kids blanched when I began skinning it. Can’t help it. About time they realized that Bugs Bunny can be a part of our food chain. It was very little food to go around, but at least there was something. Negi managed to find some berries, which added to the meal, but it’s always dicey to eat wild fruit, so we do need to get a more regular and safe food source.
I can’t hear any more gunfire from the city but I did hear the chopper a little while ago. So Bharti’s out there with his men, and I have no doubt his rivals are out there as well. Which leaves me in a bit of a predicament. Even alone, I would not have fancied my chances out here – trapped between two warring armies and the Moreko. With a bunch of untrained civvies and kids to babysit, I can’t really think of any good options. One thing is for certain, though. We have to find some sort of safety before nightfall.
