Tales of the Forgotten

by W. J. Lundy

  The team gathered their packs and secured the vehicle before moving into the house. They found one large communal room with a fireplace along the back wall which rested against the mountain. Sean went to set his pack down when Hasan grinned at him and said, “Not yet, my friend.” Hasan put on his backpack, dropped to his belly, and crawled into the open mouth of the fireplace. Rising slightly, he disappeared into the back of it.

  Sean just looked at Brooks and Brad with a puzzled expression.

  “Well, what the hell,” Brooks said as he put on his own pack and followed Hasan through the hole. Sean went next, then Brad. After a very tight squeeze thorough the mouth of the fireplace, they also traversed the high step up into the chimney and found the tunnel that Hasan had disappeared into. They had to crawl another fifteen feet directly into the mountain before the tunnel opened into a large cavern. When Brad exited the tunnel, he rolled to his side and Brooks helped pull him to his feet.

  They found Hasan at the center of the cavern, lighting lanterns and tossing stacked wood into a fire pit.

  “What do you think, my friends? Afghan engineering at its best, yes?” he said with a big smile. “You can place your things over there.” Hasan pointed to a large area carved into the wall that was filled with cots.

  “I am very impressed, Hasan,” Brooks said. “This is not the first time I have ventured into one of your caves, but this is the first time I have been a welcome guest.” He walked towards the cots and tossed his heavy bag onto one before moving back to the pit and helping Hasan with building a fire.

  Brad looked around the room, walked to the center and, finding a stool, sat down. “You are full of surprises, Hasan,” he said. “How many places like this are there?”

  “More than I can count, my friend,” Hasan answered.

  With the fire growing hot, Brad watched the smoke lift to the top of the high cavern and drift farther into the mountain.

  “How far does the tunnel go back?” he questioned.

  “I am not sure. I have been deep in the mountain, but never to the end of the passage. There were limits to where I was allowed to venture,” Hasan said.

  He then got to his feet and lifted a large iron pot from a stone shelf. After placing the pot in the coals, he used bottles of water from his pack to fill it. “There is a spring in the back of the cave that flows from the river for water, we can refill these bottles before we leave,” Hasan said while working. He then walked back to the stone shelf and lifted the cover from a large clay vase, from which he removed several heaping bowls full of a rice and bean mixture to add to the iron pot.

  As the water boiled, Hasan added spices and a large bundle of dried meat that he removed from his pack. “After two nights in that steel building, we deserve a hearty meal,” Hasan said to the group.

  “How do you know of this place, Hasan?” Sean asked.

  Hasan smiled and sat on a bench near the pot before telling his story.

  “I first came here when I was a boy; my father used to bring me here. We would come to the village often to trade his livestock for goods. In those days, people lived in the village at the base of the hill, but the Russians changed that because of a disagreement between the elders and the local commander. The village fell quickly out of favor with the Russians and it was burnt. The mujahedeen rebuilt this home and a few others. I don’t know how long the passage to the cavern has existed. My father talked of visiting it when he was a child, so I imagine the house was built around the entrance.

  “After this place was destroyed, the people left. The next village was beyond walking distance from our home, so we lost our ability to safely trade our livestock. My father was angry at the loss of our trade and our friends so he took up arms against the Russians. Weeks later, I walked the road from our home to this now empty village with my father and two older brothers. My father negotiated a trade with the mujahedeen commander. My father gave the best of our flock in exchange for rifles and ammunition. Purchasing our own weapons gave us independence. In those days, if a mujahedeen commander gifted you a weapon, he then owned you, and you were a member of his force. My father, by purchasing weapons of his own, was able to freelance, I believe you would say.

  “We traveled the road often after that. Sometimes the mujahedeen would pay us to do missions for them. Mostly we helped lead foreign fighters to cross the Amu Darya River from the borders of Uzbekistan and Tajikistan. And even sometimes your own CIA would come here with our help; business was good for us. When the Russians left, my father retired our small force, and my brothers and I tried to return to the village life. But the peace did not last for long. After the Taliban took control of the government, my father was urged to rejoin the fight. He took all of his sons with him and we traveled to the northeast and joined the Alliance. My father was killed in a skirmish with the Pakistanis soon after. Later, I lost both of my brothers to a suicide bomber.

  “I stayed with the Alliance for many years, even after the death of our leader. I even supported the U.S. invasion, but soon after the U.S. forces arrived the Alliance broke up in the name of a new, weakened government. So I returned to my home in the village. I tried to adapt to the new ways of peace and forced prosperity.

  “The roadside bombings started the spring after I returned home. We had nothing to do with the insurgents in our area; nonetheless, our elders were labeled as collaborators. The helicopters came in the night and left with many of our village leaders. Soon I found myself back in these caverns again, doing what I knew best. I was on a hired mission working for a cell in Hairatan when this new enemy attacked my people.

  “I was far north of the border arranging delivery of rockets to be shipped to the Taliban when word reached me. My first instincts were to get home to my family, but I soon realized that would be impossible. I discovered most of the roads to be impassable, and in the early hours the streets and highways were flooded with the hordes of walking monsters. I fled with others to the hills. We were not armed north of the border, and our primary defense was to become faster than those who traveled with us.

  “I made my way to the banks of the river, and I was able to barter with a boatman for passage across. By sticking to the high ground, I was able to avoid the mobs and make my way back to Hairatan. I met Junayd in a safe house east of the city. We were known to each other by reputation alone, but we do not share the same principles. We agreed to work together only for reasons of self-preservation.” As Hasan finished, he reached forward to stir the boiling contents of the pot.

  “What do you know of your family?” Brad asked.

  “In the first day my cell phone operated, but there was mass chaos. My wife was confused and didn’t know where to go. I was able to negotiate with a cell member in the area who promised to keep them safe. Unfortunately, the phones stopped working before I could confirm that she had been rescued. I have to admit that it is selfish motives that brought me to join you on your venture. My wife and child do not live in this region. I moved them near the main airbase years ago. I joined you in hopes of finding information on their wellbeing,” Hasan answered solemnly. Brad just hung his head in sad thought as Sean stood and extended his hand to Hasan.

  “We are happy to have you on our team, brother; you have already proven yourself useful, thank you,” Sean said.

  “Very good then. Let’s feast tonight on real food. After two nights in the steel building we deserve a good meal, and not the mess that comes from the cans that Brad feeds us,” said Hasan with a grin.

  10.

  After they finished eating, Sean told Brad that they needed to go outside and set up security. The front had been left unattended way longer than it should have been. Because of the tunnel and isolation of the watch station, they had decided the watch would be two men at all times in the home. Brad readied his rifle and followed Sean into the tunnel. The sun had started to go down and the tunnel had grown dark with most of the ambient light from the house gone. Sean exited first and took a knee just outside an
d waited for Brad to post up next to him. They sat for a few minutes listening to make sure they were alone. Then Sean rose to his feet and moved to the window. Brad came up behind him and they both scanned the horizon. The sky was orange and they probably had less than an hour of daylight left.

  “I need to get some gear out of the Defender before we lose the light,” Sean said.

  “Okay boss, I can observe you from here,” Brad replied.

  Sean walked out through the door and moved to the vehicle. It could be seen easily from the house, but was near invisible from the road or the small trail that approached the home. Brad looked beyond the vehicle and saw that the shadows over the ruins of the village had started to stretch. He hated this time of the day, when the sun seemed to move quickly and the shifting shadows could play tricks on your mind. More than once he thought he spotted a primal staring at him, only to look through his binos and find a boulder or a long ago knocked-over wall.

  Brad turned his attention back to Sean. It looked like he had finished what he was doing and was locking up the Defender. Sean threw a bag over his shoulder and started the walk back to the house. As he entered the doorway, he dropped his bag before securing the old rusty bolts at the top and bottom of the plank door.

  “You get what you needed Sean?” Brad asked.

  “Yeah, grabbed up a couple thousand rounds of ammo from the cans you picked up. I got to thinking how it would suck to get surrounded and have all the ammo sitting out there in the truck,” Sean said.

  “Damn, good thinking! Guess that’s why you’re the chief,” Brad said with a grin.

  Brad found a chair and set it to the back of the window in the shadows, but still in position to where he could see out. Sean began pulling items from his bag and laying them out on a table in the center of the room. He sat his MK11 sniper rifle on the table, and two extra magazines next to it, but kept his suppressed MP5 across his chest where it hung from a tactical sling.

  Brad turned his attention back to the ruins and watched as the orange light began to fade into a deep grey. Far in his peripheral he sensed motion. Brad stood and took a step closer to the window, still being very careful to stay concealed. He lifted his binos and scanned the lower quarter of the village where he thought he had seen something. He watched for a moment.

  “What do you got, Brad?” Sean asked.

  “Nothing yet, but I thought I saw something.”

  “Got to be careful, buddy, these twilight shadows can play tricks on you,” Sean said.

  “I know, but it looked like movement … oh wait, there it is again,” Brad exclaimed.

  With new interest, Sean got to his feet and stepped to the window. Brad, using his hand in a karate chop motion, pointed out the direction where he thought he had seen something.

  “Well, what exactly did you see Brad?” Sean asked.

  “I can’t be sure, but it looked like a group of people running,” Brad answered. “There! See them? By the low wall.” He pointed.

  “I got them, three targets moving left to right,” Sean said, barely above a whisper and reaching for his rifle. “Wait, those aren’t primals. They appear to be one male adult, one female adult, one child,” he continued emotionlessly. “They just dropped into the ruins of that house, third from the left on the trail head, about 550 meters.”

  “What are they doing here?” Brad asked.

  “Oh shit, I got two primals tracking them. I don’t think they have a fix on the friendly position yet; they’re walking, not running. Primals moving left to right 700 meters out,” Sean whispered.

  “You want me to go get Brooks?” Brad asked apprehensively.

  “No, not yet. Get on your scope, fire up the night vision—I need a spotter,” Sean answered. “Do you see the primals? They are just off the trail, moving at a walk.”

  “Okay I got them,” Brad whispered. “Are you going to take the shot?”

  “No, too dangerous,” Sean answered. “If we fire now, we might get every primal this side of the mountain knocking on both of our doors.”

  “Yeah, I guess that wouldn’t be good for anyone,” Brad whispered back.

  The two watched through their scopes as the primals tracked the group. They observed them stalking the trail, stopping every so often to sniff at the air. “They seem to be evolving. Look at how they’re hunting them,” Sean whispered.

  The primals continued to walk down the trail toward the hiding spot. When they got to within fifty feet of the house, one of them dropped back and investigated something on the side of the trail. The lead primal was more aware; he continued down the trail, stopping where it broke to a walkway that led up to the ruined home. It halted in the middle of the path, sniffing at the air and examining the ground. Brad watched the lead primal walk right at the hiding group’s position. Just short of the entryway to the house, he stopped and again put his nose to the air before continuing forward.

  Brad had the dot of his scope on the body of the creature as it crossed the threshold of the ruined home. Without warning, he saw the female rise to her feet just in front of the creature. Brad watched intently, waiting and expecting to hear the primal moan as it called to the other crazy. Brad watched the creature raise its hand and arch its back, preparing to lunge at the female. Brad had his finger on the trigger. Noise or not, he wouldn’t watch another human be taken without a fight. But before a sound left its mouth, the male stepped from a shadow behind the primal and removed its head with a shining blade. As soon as it started, both friendlies had again vanished, and nothing was left but the corpse of the primal.

  “Things just got interesting,” Sean whispered.

  They continued watching as the second primal regained its bearings and turned toward the house. It was moving slowly, occasionally stopping to sniff the air. It eventually found the house and turned to the entryway. Brad again watched this one walk through the doorway and stop when it found the downed primal. With no signs of alarm, it just stopped and put its nose to the air. This only lasted a second as the male again stepped from the shadows and with a quick swing separated the primal from its head.

  “Who the hell are they?” Brad asked.

  “Got me, but they have their shit together for sure,” Sean answered.

  After a short wait, the two men watched the group again break cover. The woman was carrying the child and the man had all of the bags. They moved quickly to a ruin two houses away and disappeared into their surroundings once more. It was now pitch black. Even with a partial moon in a clear sky, you couldn’t make out anything with the naked eye.

  “What do you make of this?” Brad asked.

  “I don’t know, but it just made more work for us,” Sean said. “Make sure you keep an eye on those ruins.”

  “I got them, but do you think we should go down there? Maybe we can help them with something,” Brad said.

  “No way, I like my head, and that man down there seems to be pretty proficient in removing them,” Sean answered. “For now let’s just observe them. If they are still there in the morning we’ll talk it over.”

  Now that it was completely dark, Brad moved his seat forward and rested the handguard of the rifle on the windowsill. He had the binos high to his eyes, and was watching the ruins where he’d seen the group disappear. The trio was very quiet, and Brad and Sean wouldn’t even have known they existed if they hadn’t been on watch to witness the evening’s events. Brad looked to his left and saw that Sean also had his eye on his scope, scanning the horizon. Far away they could see the road; it was very dark, and even through the night vision it was hard to make out any movement. Brad and Sean settled in and watched.

  Just after midnight they heard a noise coming from inside the tunnel. Brad turned to see Brooks crawl out, followed by Hasan. They quietly briefed the men on what had happened earlier and pointed out the location of the group using the IR laser on Sean’s rifle. When they were satisfied their relief was current on the situation, they dropped to their bellies and crawled back t
hrough the tunnel and into the cavern.

  The cave still had the lantern burning where Hasan had left it. The fire still smoked, its coals burning a bright orange, eerily lighting the area. Brad moved off to the sleeping area where he had placed his belongings earlier. He opened his bedroll and rolled it out across an old dusty bunk. As he lay down, he noticed writing on the stone walls above him. It looked to be a long list of names. It made him wonder how many young fighters had slept on this bunk, waiting to face the war outside. Brad smiled to himself, then reached into his bag for a sharpie and added his name to the bottom of the list.

  11.

  Sean was already up and messing with the fire when Brad awoke. He’d opened two cans of the Afghan slop and had it simmering in a pot. The stench had already begun to fill the cavern. Sean looked over as he noticed Brad stirring in his bedroll.

  “Good morning, sunshine. I found some tea and there’s hot water if you want some. It’s almost 4 a.m. and I want to get moving soon if you can manage to get your ass up,” he said half-jokingly.

  “I’m up, I’m up. Hell, how could anyone sleep through the smell of that shit?” Brad retorted.

  Sean put on his vest and lifted his rifle. He walked to the tunnel entrance and indicated he was going to relieve Brooks for breakfast, and that Brad should do the same with Hasan when he was ready. Brad took a long drink off of his water bottle, then walked to the kettle on the bench and filled it with the Afghan tea. He found the tea bitter but acceptable, especially with no other source of caffeine nearby. Brooks crawled through the opening of the cavern just as he was getting himself a bowl of the slop. “So any change on our neighbors?” Brad asked.

  “Nope, no movement at all. I didn’t see them slip away during the night, so they must be dug in and hiding good.”