by J. Thorn
It’s funny how our conditioning makes us assume who the good and bad guys are. Having grown up in India and having served in the Army, I had assumed that the forces battling Bharti’s men would be villains as well, simply because they were Chinese. The others with me were also warming up to our rescuers, and soon many of them were relating horror stories of how Bharti had kept them as virtual slaves. Most of the twenty or so soldiers with Teng could speak only broken English but they got agitated at the accounts of rape and beatings and one or two of them let off wonderfully accented swear words directed at Bharti.
Teng offered lunch but when I saw that his men were sharing their rations, we offered to help find fruits in the forest. We had a decent meal, and while my comrades were pretty much in love with our newfound friends, something was bothering me. After mucking around in the forest for so long, we all looked like crap, notwithstanding the hurried baths at the Taj Mahal. Most of us hadn’t shaved in days, the women had matted hair and all our clothes were torn and filthy. Teng and his men were wearing uniforms that were absurdly spotless, and their gear and weapons were clean. They certainly didn’t look like they’d been wandering around in the forests.
Something doesn’t add up, and I plan to find out more.
Day 144. Hung over and blown away.
My tongue feels dry like sandpaper and my mouth still has the taste of the latest round of vomit I deposited in the bushes a few minutes ago. My head is throbbing and all I want to do is to curl up and die, but at the same time, my mind is reeling at what I learnt last night.
I may or may not be a good soldier, but I sucked at being a spy. I went to Teng’s tent at night, pretending to strike up a friendly chat with a fellow soldier, to find out what he and his men were up to. He produced a couple of bottles of rice wine, and alcoholism prevailed over subterfuge and I slugged away too fast. Soon, I was blabbering away about my busted leg, my failed marriage and my wretched writing career. To his credit, Teng also got hammered and talked about hating being drafted, about how the whole world had gone to hell and about how he doubted he would ever get laid again. The last bit got us both laughing and woke up most the camp.
Anyways, my terrible hangover does have one worthwhile piece of intelligence to show for it. It seems there is still some sort of cohesive government or at least military authority in China. Teng told me that cities like Shanghai and Beijing had become slaughterhouses and had been nuked by the government to contain the epidemic. That scared the shit out of me – if things were so bad that people were nuking their own cities, even if someone managed to cure the epidemic, what would be left of our world?
Some Red Army officers had managed to survive and kept a cohesive military force going, operating out of Tibet, which had been largely spared the horrors of the infection. With the central government now gone and most of the world in ruins, they were trying to seek out survivors in neighboring areas and bring them to safety. Which was why they had sent scouting parties like Teng’s into Sikkim. That was when Teng had bumped into Bharti’s troopers and he had been waging a battle of attrition ever since to rescue the captive civilians.
Imagine that, Chinese soldiers trying to rescue Indian civilians from an Indian warlord by intruding into Indian territory. The world has indeed turned topsy-turvy… but then, as Teng reminded me, when the border delineating the alive and the dead has been blurred, what sanctity do lines drawn on maps have? Fair point. I chatted with Negi and the others about it, and while none of could have ever imagined wanting to live in Tibet, and that too under Chinese rule, looks like that’s where home may well lie.
Now that I’ve got that out of my system and onto paper, let me do what my body is screaming for me to do – lie down, clutch my head and hope the hangover goes away.
Day 145. A council of war.
I wondered whether Teng was still drunk when he came to my tent last night with his proposal, but it turns out he’s serious. He’s heard about the conditions in which Bharti is keeping the civilians and wants to rescue them. The problem of course is that Bharti and most of his men are holed up in the bungalow on the hill and Teng’s scouts report that the civilians are all in houses at the foot of the hill, guarded by Bharti’s troopers. The Moreko – Teng calls them Pinyin si, which I gather pretty much means the same thing in Mandarin – are still roaming around much of the city. The presence of the Moreko, the lack of any air power and no heavy weapons other than a couple of mortars means that the chances of a successful assault on Bharti’s position are pretty low.
I wondered aloud if we should just take the civilians we have and get them to safety, and Teng showed that he is a better man than I am by saying that he could not leave so many civilians at the mercy of the Moreko and Bharti. He wanted my advice as a military man who had more experience than him.
This morning is a council of war where he wants us to come up with a plan. Teng has forty men with him and I don’t know how many of those with me will want to go into Gangtok to fight. Either way, we’ll be outnumbered at least two to one, and I know from personal experience that the bungalow is an excellent defensive position. I hope Teng has some brilliant ideas, because I don’t have a clue. Scary thing is that he expects me to tell him what to do.
Day 146. Reflections on courage.
I always thought I had a reasonable amount of courage. Sure, I knew when to back off, but still I thought I was as brave as the next guy, and perhaps a bit more. If you asked me, I would have said that came down to having seen combat. It comes from knowing that not every threat will kill you if you get a few simple things right. That, coupled with the common sense to know when you’re in over your head, is what I reckon keeps most soldiers alive.
Today, I was proven wrong. By Negi, Pratik and the others – all people who have never been trained to deal with combat. When we met at the council of war called by Teng, I called all the civilians over and explained to them what was going on. I told them about the odds against us, and how difficult it would be to get at Bharti without heavy weapons and with him having the advantage of terrain. They heard me out and then huddled briefly before Pratik came up to represent the group. He said that six months ago, most of them may have walked away, figuring that protecting their own lives and families was more important than risking them for strangers. However, having endured the horrors of being under Bharti’s grip, they could not walk away. Every single one of them volunteered to stay and do what they could to help in the mission.
They taught me an important lesson. There is nothing else left to strive for – our old jobs mean nothing, money means nothing, all the old trinkets that people took for symbols of status mean nothing. When all else is gone, clinging onto decency and honor is the best a man can hope to do. I can hardly claim to be a paragon of either, but I will do my best to ensure none of these good people get hurt or killed, and yes, ensure that bastard Bharti gets what he deserves.
So I made a plan that we are going to act on early tomorrow morning. Teng told me that we should all have a drink tonight – and I’m glad that in this respect, our Army traditions match. When a man is marching to certain death, the least he deserves is to have a drink in his gullet.
Day 147. Kamikaze.
I’ve been trained to operate behind enemy lines, yet that morning I found myself scared shitless. I don’t know if I felt ashamed at how brave all the civvies were being or just how more noble than me Teng seemed. Whatever it was, a sudden attack of conscience or just a slighted ego, the plan I came up with had me playing a central role.
I am now just half a kilometer away from the hill on top of which I had been perched for months. I had slipped in before dawn, as heavily armed as our current arsenal would allow – with a rifle, a handgun and a knife. Yet if I used any of them too early our mission was doomed to failure. I was also carrying a tactical radio that Teng had given me, and just five minutes ago, I reported in. Now, waiting for my next move, I thought I’d update my notebook to while away the time.
G
etting through the outskirts was relatively easy since Bharti had concentrated his forces near the bungalow, and either he didn’t have the tactical sense or his troopers didn’t have the nerve to keep small groups of sentries in the city. The lack of nerves would be understandable because the Moreko were still there. I saw at least a dozen shuffling through the city in the darkness as I came in. It was easy for me to slip past them, but as I came in deeper, my hatred for Bharti grew. That bastard had brought the civilians here claiming he would create a new sanctuary for them. All he wanted was to get to the relative safety of the bungalow and the hill, since he was apparently getting his nose bloodied by Teng and his men.
They had lit up the path with torches, and that was a stroke of luck for me because it allowed me a very good look at their defenses, even though the sun was not yet out. Through the scope on my rifle I could see that Bharti’s men had done a pretty decent job of setting up defensive positions. Troopers occupied most of the buildings at the foot of the hill leading to the path to the bungalow, and the bodies of a dozen Moreko scattered around on the road showed that their defenses had held so far. I saw a few civilians carrying food and water to the troopers but I initially couldn’t see most of them. That was till I looked up. There was a steady stream of civilians going up and down the path to the bungalow, always under guard by armed troopers. Some of the civilians seemed to be carrying shovels and other tools. Bharti was either using his ‘shramiks’ to fortify the bungalow or he was even more ruthless than I thought and was using them to scavenge for food in the Moreko-infested ruins in the dark.
I ventured out after talking to Teng on the radio and updating him on Bharti’s defenses and I have identified a large hostel that seems to house the civilians. Smart of Bharti to keep them all in one building where they can be easily guarded. It’s also a stroke of luck for us – the big reason I’m sneaking about in the dark is that I was afraid that the civilians would be scattered about and it would be impossible to protect them when the time for fighting came. Now on to the next part of my plan. If I live to tell the tale, you’ll know all about it here.
Day 148. I am Moreko.
I’m back. Will have to keep this short because all hell is going to break loose soon. My mission went as well as I could have expected, though it was messy work. If you notice red stains all over this page, don’t worry, it’s not my blood.
I went out just before the sun would have risen, and Bharti’s troopers were still not fully alert. I had spotted a ground-floor window where I could see two of them, perpetually nodding off despite the fact that they were right at the frontline of where any Moreko attack would come. I was tempted to take off their heads with my rifle right away since they were sitting ducks, but I held my fire. I had other plans for them.
I went out with only my knife and the night vision scope that I had detached from my rifle. I had torn my clothes and covered myself in dust and mud. I had seen enough of the Moreko to last me a lifetime, and while I was never very good at acting, I didn’t think this particular role called for an Oscar-worthy performance.
I sneaked up on the two troopers, moving between building and building, alternating between crawling and moving on my haunches. Can you believe it – I actually heard one of the idiots begin to snore when I got closer. That was when I got up and grabbed the other trooper around his neck and growled in my best Moreko imitation. I finished both of them with the knife but between my growling, their screams and the bloody mess I left behind, the other troopers bought the idea that the Moreko had struck. I could hear some of them in nearby buildings shouting that the Danavs had come again and one or two of them fired blindly at shadows, further adding to the chaos.
I was on my way back when another target of opportunity presented itself – a trooper standing against a wall, taking a leak. I might have let him live if I hadn’t recognized him as one of the rapists who had beaten me in the camp. I let him scream but before I finished him, I let him see who I really was. I don’t know if he felt any remorse for all he had done even in his last moments but it was important for me that he knew why he had died and who had killed him.
My theory is that the Moreko are attracted to the possibility of a kill, and they will be coming this way now, drawn by the screams. I never thought I’d use the Moreko as allies of a sort in a battle, but the world has become so fucked up recently that anything’s possible.
I can hear the growls now. Time to rock and roll.
Day 150. Aftermath.
Been kind of busy trying to stay alive so I’m sure you’ll understand why I have missed writing in the diary for a couple of days. Things seem to have come full circle – am back in the bungalow, sitting at my desk and writing in my diary. The difference is that there are several dozen people scattered around me sleeping, some on the beds and sofas, but most just lying down where they could find space or where they collapsed from sheer exhaustion. Of course, then there’s the small matter of all the bodies in the back yard, but wait, I’m getting ahead of myself again. It’s night and everyone else is asleep, so let me give you an extended version of what’s been going on for the last couple of days, ever since I did my Moreko act.
The first of the Moreko came within ten minutes of the troopers being killed. By then, I had radioed Teng and moved to a new position overlooking the hostel where the civilians were kept. There were two troopers guarding it, and once the growls of the Moreko became audible, they started to panic. The civilians locked the hostel after the last few remaining outside had scampered in. I smiled when they locked out the two guards, who were now pleading and begging with the civvies to let them in. I let them beg for a minute and then shot both of them dead. There was little point in hiding any more.
Now I could hear the Moreko, and it sounded like every Moreko in Gangtok had come to join the party. Four passed the house where I was perched on the roof, and I picked them off at leisure with one or two shots each. I didn’t care if I finished them, but aimed for the legs to slow them down. A Moreko crawling at you, baying for your blood, is still hardly a pleasant sight to behold, but it’s always reassuring to know that the fucker has no hope of catching you. The troopers were now unloading on the Moreko with their weapons, and with the number of Moreko bearing down on them, it didn’t require one to be a marksman to score hits. I went to my left and looked down to see dozens of Moreko streaming into the narrow alleys leading to the troopers. I shot a few more, enraging them further, and the hunkered down to watch the fun.
As I had learned from my own experience on the hill, shooting at the Moreko over time only enraged them, and they didn’t care to bite to infect any more, but came in to tear their attackers apart. That was what was happening now. The troopers were firing away, but in the narrow alley, only one or two of their positions could bring their weapons to bear, and they were either too scared to step outside their fortified positions or didn’t have the tactical sense to do so. At any rate, they did not concentrate their firepower by moving to a couple of buildings closest to where the Moreko were advancing from. The fact that I had taken out one of their flanking positions probably didn’t help their cause.
Even then, a crowd of Moreko coming down a narrow alley was like shooting fish in a barrel, so I thought I’d do my undead friends a favor and I shot one of the three troopers in the first building facing the Moreko. The two other troopers looked at each other, shocked at whether the Moreko had started firing. I hope they had a meaningful conversation while it lasted, because I cut it short by shooting one of them in the head.
That left one seriously terrified trooper, who closed the window and hid. With the first position out of the fight, the Moreko began streaming around it and attacking the other positions. I still didn’t think the Moreko would get anywhere near the bungalow, but that wasn’t part of my plan. The troopers must have been screaming for help, as I spotted more than a dozen reinforcements coming down the hill. I shot two of them, and watched the rest scatter for cover, perhaps wondering like t
heir dead comrades how Moreko had learned to shoot.
While all this mayhem unfolded under my tender loving care, Teng and thirty of his men had entered the city from the other direction and he radioed to tell me that they had reached the hostel. Negi was there along with five of the civilians, and I must say I admired them for coming into this battle zone. Between flying bullets and marauding Moreko, even an experienced soldier would have lost his nerve. For untrained civilians to come into such a situation spoke a lot about their character. The ones we placed upon pedestals in the old world – holy men like Bharti, generals of the sort who commanded the troopers, tycoons like the debauched old bastard I served – had all showed themselves to be base and selfish. It was the middle-class tour guide, the bespectacled professor, the college student, the housewife, the doctor who emerged as true heroes. If there are people like them around, there may yet be hope for our planet.
God, I didn’t realize I was so tired. I just yawned thrice in as many minutes. Maybe I’ll give it a rest here and get back to the diary tomorrow. Sorry if I’m leaving you in suspense, but if you inhabit the brave new world we’ve inherited and are reading this, then you’ve probably outlived me. So you’ll know what I mean when I say that survival is tiring business nowadays.
Day 151. The day after.
Teng woke me up and when I asked him what the time was, he told me with a smile that it was two in the afternoon. Imagine that! I must have been more tired than I thought.
