by Lundy, W. J.
“Yeah, probably wounded; they barricaded themselves seeking refuge from whatever was outside the gate while they slowly turned themselves,” Brad answered back.
They said little while they walked back downstairs. Brad and Hasan dragged the primals’ bodies to a far corner of the courtyard. They opened the heavy wooden door as wide as it would go and backed the Defender into the safety of the walls, closing the door behind them and locking the bolt.
They found very little else of use in the home. Upstairs, Hasan found a worn Enfield rifle and a bandoleer of ammo to match. He propped it carefully inside the entry door to the house, deciding he didn’t need it and would leave it for a future visitor. None of the team had any interest in sleeping in the house, so they spread their bedrolls in the courtyard and, using dried wood, built a smokeless fire just large enough to heat their dinner. Brad volunteered to take the first watch. He climbed atop the Defender and settled into a comfortable position where he could see over the wall.
5.
As the sun gradually dropped below the horizon, the temperature began to drop with it. Darkness came quickly and was accompanied by the howling of the primals. Brad was disappointed to hear them; he had hoped they would be things of the city and wouldn’t venture out into the desert as much. Junayd’s men had rarely reported seeing them in the desert sands during the heat of the day. The scouts had always returned to the compound before sundown, never spending a night outside the protection of the walls. As it grew darker and the air cooled, the howling grew louder. Brad heard the stirring of the men on the ground and soon he found Sean sitting beside him on top of the vehicle.
Sean had his night vision spotting scope in his hand and was scanning the horizon. Brad watched him search, then stop to focus intently on some far off object.
“Now what is this?” Sean whispered. Brad observed Sean’s face contort in concentration as he scanned. “Well I hadn’t expected this,” he whispered again, handing the scope off to Brad.
Brad put the scope to his eye but saw nothing other than the greenish hue of the desert sands. Sean lifted his hand, grabbed the scope, and guided Brad’s eye to a spot about three hundred meters into the distance.
“Oh,” Brad said. Looking through the scope, he saw a group of fifty to a hundred primals. They were back deep in a berm of sand. Most of them stood and walked in a circle with their noses to the wind, howling that scream, that deep moan. Brad watched as others would rise up out of the sand and get to their feet. After a pack was formed, they broke up into groups of ten to twelve and wandered off into the desert.
“What are they doing?” Brad asked.
“Looks like hunting parties. They must sleep or hibernate during the day, only to awaken and hunt for prey at night,” said Sean. “I’ve seen lions do the same thing in Africa.”
“No way, Sean. You think these things are like lions?” Brad asked.
“Keep your voice down. I’m just saying, I saw those things dig out of the sand. Something in them must tell them to stay out of the sun all day. Then they wake up at night. I don’t know what to make of it, but in Africa I’ve seen lions do the same thing. They lay low all day, then hunt in packs under the cover of darkness,” Sean answered back. “Doesn’t matter Brad, this doesn’t change anything. We’ll still seek shelter at night and only move during the day.” Sean glanced at him. “You look spent Brad, why don’t you try and grab some sleep? I’ll take the rest of your watch.”
Brad lowered himself off the Defender and leaned against the back of it. His head was filled with so many things he couldn’t think straight. I need a drink, he thought to himself. Frustrated, since he knew that wasn’t going to be possible for a while, Brad made his way back to his pack and bedroll. He couldn’t help but look at the doorway to the house from which the primals had rushed out and attacked him. He sat his pack against the side of the house and rested against it, pulling his blanket over himself. He laid his rifle across his lap and put the now familiar Sigma pistol at his side. “Tonight won’t be a night for sweet dreams,” he said to himself, and then drifted to sleep.
He was abruptly awakened with a hand across his mouth and Brooks’ face close to his. Brooks held a finger over his lips and slowly released the hand from his face. Brad closed his eyes tightly and opened them slowly to try and wake up. He looked around and saw that everyone was gathered in the sleeping area. Brad looked to the top of the Defender and wondered why no one was on watch. It didn’t take long to get an answer to his question. From outside the heavy wooden door he heard a thump, then scratching against the wood. Brad sat like a stone, watching the faces of Brooks and Sean who calmly held their rifles in their laps, intently focused on the wall’s door. Hasan was sitting stoically farther to the back with his AK in his hands.
They spent the night watching the door and each other, sometimes having to shake a boot if one of them nodded off and began to snore. The scratching continued until the very early hours of the morning and quit just as the sun was beginning to come up.
Brooks stood and crept to the front of the Defender and slowly lifted his body onto the hood, then stood to look over the wall. Standing for a long time, he finally jumped down and gave the all clear.
“You know, Sean, I’m really starting to second guess myself for coming on this expedition; it didn’t say shit about lions in the brochure,” Brad quipped.
“Oh, you know you were bored chilling in that compound. You’re very welcome for the rescue and you can put the charge for excitement on my tab,” Sean snapped back quickly. “Hey guys, what do you say we hit a drive-thru for breakfast today. I’m kind of in a hurry to put some distance on this place. I wasn’t getting the whole welcome guest vibe last night.” Sean threw his bag on the top of the vehicle.
The team nodded in agreement before Hasan asked, “what is a drive through?” causing laughs all around.
With the bags stowed safely on the roof rack, they boarded the Defender. Brad opened the heavy door and Brooks eased the vehicle out through the doorway and stopped in front of the walls. Brad closed the door and stared at the bolt. In the end he decided to leave the door unlocked and just dropped the latch to keep it from swinging open. Who knew when someone else might seek the safety of these walls and Hasan’s gift of the Enfield rifle? Brad walked back to the rear seat and piled into the Defender. As they rolled out, they all looked at the dune in the distance and wondered if there were a hundred sleeping primals under the sand.
6.
The Defender continued its journey down the Hairatan road. The farther they got from the city, the less vehicles they saw on the sides of the abandoned highway. The road opened up and Brooks was more comfortable driving faster. They rode in silence; occasionally one of them would point out in the distance a primal standing in the shadows of a rock, or a suspicious figure near a mud-walled dwelling. On a mission to make it to Bremmel before dusk, they did not stop to investigate.
It was nearly noon when they came on the abandoned MRAP in the center of the road. Brad told the team how Sergeant Turner had been forced to abandon it once it ran out of fuel. Brooks pulled close to it and stopped. Sean wanted to give it a quick once over to make sure there was nothing of value left inside.
They stepped out of the Defender. Sean and Brad moved towards the MRAP while Brooks and Hasan headed to the shoulder to relieve their bladders. “Like I said, Sean, they took everything from it, there’s nothing left,” Brad said as they walked around the stripped-down vehicle. When they got to the back, Sean reached up and opened the large door to the crew compartment and looked inside.
“Hmm, was it like this when you left it Brad?” Sean queried.
Sean stepped aside and allowed Brad to stand on the step and look into the vehicle. The inside was covered with blankets. Some of the seats had been removed; there were cans of food on the shelves and a water bladder made from some kind of animal skin hanging from the ceiling. It was obvious the space had been recently occupied.
“What t
he hell? Someone is living in here,” Brad said.
“Yeah, but who?” asked Sean as he carefully scanned the surrounding desert. “And where are they now?”
They searched the area all around the MRAP for tracks but found no other signs of the occupants. There were plenty of cans of food in the MRAP and the water bottle was more than half full. There were no signs of weapons, or any clue as to how many were hiding here.
“What do you think, Sean?” Brad asked.
“I don’t know, but we can’t hang out. Let’s leave this as we found it,” Sean said.
“What about the people? We can’t leave them,” Brad said.
“Maybe they heard us coming and are watching from the desert. Worse case they got eaten by lions last night, either way it’s not our mission,” said Sean.
“Damn, always the optimist, aren’t ya?” Brooks chimed in.
“Let’s leave them a note directing them to the compound; these people deserve a chance,” offered Hasan.
“It’s a risk. We don’t know who they are, but I guess if they are too weak to fight our team of four, they wouldn’t do much against the compound,” Sean said.
Hasan wrote a note in multiple languages and drew a map. The map showed the location of the walled villa on the road, and then directed them into Hairatan. He was careful not to lead them to the compound but instead to a place in the city where he knew Junayd’s fighters would find them on their daily patrols. Hasan placed the note on the center of the makeshift bed inside the MRAP and closed the door. “I guess this is the most we can offer,” Hasan said.
They boarded the Defender, feeling as if too much time had already been spent here. Pulling back onto the road, Brooks sped up and they lost sight of the MRAP behind them. Brad wondered who they had been, and felt pangs of guilt for not doing more for the mysterious people.
They would make good time now; the road was clear and even the potholes were farther apart. Brad sat his back in his seat and watched the scenery quickly go by. Soon they made it to the dead end ‘T’ intersection where the Hairatan road disappeared into the desert. A sign told them they were entering Route A76 and offered them the choices of west towards Mazar-e-Sharif and Bremmel, or east. Brooks slowed the vehicle, looking both ways out of habit, and turned the Land Rover west towards the Forward Operating Base.
Brad started thinking about the last time he’d been at the base, and hoped it had all been a bad dream, or something he’d imagined. Maybe they would pull up to the gates and find that Task Force Raider had survived. He would see his friends working the walls, happy to see him. He was dreaming of a warm reception; maybe he’d be able to sleep in his own bed tonight.
7.
His fantasies were quickly crushed when they rounded the bend and found the lonely Forward Operating Base. Brooks pulled the vehicle into cover just shy of a mile from the gates. They exited the Defender and observed the FOB cautiously through their binoculars. Just as Brad had seen it last, the base was a mess. The front gate was hanging open and, from their high angle, they could see that most of the tents had been knocked down or badly damaged. They spotted no sign of movement, but they were still wary and decided to tactically approach Bremmel. They left the Land Rover hidden where Brooks had parked it and prepared to move in on foot.
Each man carried a large empty duffle bag on his back as they slowly walked in a column down the approach to Bremmel. Brooks walked point while the rest of them followed. When they got closer to the gate, they began to smell the telltale stench of death. Near the first set of concrete barriers that stood in front of the base was a large truck in the ditch. Brooks put up his fist to signal the rest to halt as he approached the rear of the large vehicle. He lifted the canvas flap covering the truck and, after a quick look inside, shook his head, signaling the truck was clear, and they walked past it.
The team moved slowly to the barrier and saw bodies strewn around it, torn apart by heavy weapons fire. There was a tangle of corpses forced through, and into, the camp’s barbed wire barriers. Brooks paused to remove his wire cutters, and, while Sean held the wire steady, he cut a path through it. They moved past the wire to the first set of concrete barriers. Shotguns lay on the ground with spent shell casings nearby. Sean stopped to pick up a spent shell and looked at it. “Rubber bullets, poor bastards,” he said while tossing the shell back to the ground. Hasan reached down to retrieve one of the Mossberg shotguns.
“Don’t bother, Hasan, we don’t have the ammo for them,” Brooks said.
They moved further in toward the gates, cautious not to step on the rotting bodies. Brad paused to tie his shemagh over his face; the smell was beginning to get to him, and he felt the urge to vomit. Brad looked up and saw the silent barrel of a machine gun poking out from the guard tower, the gunner long dead. Bodies of those in uniform were now mixed with the dead civilians. They moved to the gates and saw another large cluster of the fallen.
Looking at the spot where the camp’s security must have made their last stand, Sean turned and faced his men. Looking at Brad and Hasan, he asked, “Are you two OK to continue inside? Brooks and I can do this alone.”
“No, I’m okay. I have your back, let’s just keep going,” answered Brad.
Hasan nodded and pulled his rifle into his shoulder, obviously afraid.
“Okay then, let’s keep it tight. If we have problems, we bound back to the gate and haul ass for the Land Rover,” instructed Sean. The team once again fell in line behind Brooks, who slowly walked through the gates. Brad could see many scattered bodies around the grounds of the camp.
Just inside the gate, a 9mm pistol sat on the ground next to a pair of badly trampled bodies. Hasan reached down, grabbed the weapon, and dropped it into his duffle bag. Then they walked on down the gravel road that led through the center of the camp. The only sound was that of the wind beating the torn tent fabric. Brooks led them to a point near a concrete bunker and took a knee.
The team huddled together and Sean asked Brad where the communications shack was located. Getting a working battery and charger for the satellite phone was a priority; after that, it would be food and ammo. Brad pointed to a building up the road, and Brooks once again stepped off first to lead the way. When they got to the building, Brooks held up his fist again. He pulled his silenced pistol and looked to Sean who did the same.
“You two stay out here and watch our backs. If you see anything, don’t call out, just tap on the door. Okay?” Sean said to Brad and Hasan.
Brad nodded and took a knee in a location where he could see all approaches to the building. Hasan did the same on the opposite side of the door. Brad watched as Sean and Brooks opened the door and disappeared into the room, feeling guilt at his joy that Sean hadn’t asked him to help clear the building.
Brad heard the footsteps of the SEALs fade as they walked deeper into the communications shack. He jumped when he heard two muffled gunshots come from inside, followed by two more. Brad was growing anxious and was debating whether or not he should go in and check on the SEALs when the door slowly opened and his friends walked out of the building.
Sean came out first with Brooks following; they walked forward and took a knee on the road next to Brad. Sean looked at Brad and shook his head. “No good on the batteries. That place has been torn apart. Where is the supply building located?”
Brad looked down the street and pointed to a large, steel-sided pole barn. “That’s brigade supply; anything we need, we should be able to find in there.”
They got back to their feet and followed Brooks down the road.
Brooks raised his fist again and they all took a knee. Brooks pointed ahead and he showed two fingers. Puzzled, Brad looked in the direction he had pointed but didn’t see anything. He slowly moved forward to Sean. Sean pointed his rifle in the direction and Brad looked down the barrel. Off in the shadows of the blast wall, two uniformed figures were standing as still as statues staring back at the wall. Brad lifted his own rifle and through his advanced opti
cs he could see they were primals, but they weren’t moving; they just stood as if meditating.
Sean signaled for Brad and Hasan to stay put as he and Brooks moved forward. Brad watched the two men silently slip ahead. When they were within ten feet of the primal they let their rifles hang from their tactical slings and drew their knives. Taking the last few steps, they dropped into fighter’s stances and stabbed the primals through the backs of the head in perfect timing. They caught the bodies, slowly lowered them to the ground, and made their way back to the team. Brooks gave them a thumbs up and continued toward the supply building.
The supply warehouse sat at the end of the street where it dead ended— right at a large set of sliding doors that could be opened for trucks making deliveries. In the center of the sliding doors was a smaller steel entry door that currently was hanging open. The team moved slowly to the open entrance. Just feet from the door they all took a knee. Sean gave the signal for them to stack up and they quietly entered the open warehouse.
Once inside, Sean stopped and turned back to quietly close the door; he then turned the bolt to lock it behind them. “I don’t want nothing sneaking up on us while we’re shopping,” Sean whispered.
The supply building was really more of a large garage that had been subdivided by cages. The cages were filled with shelves and stocked heavily with supplies. They were hit with the smell of stinking bodies and human waste that always accompanied primals. The room was nearly blacked out, but Sean shook his head at Brad when he went for his flashlight. Instead, they pulled on their night vision goggles. Brad suddenly felt bad for Hasan, who was behind him and blind in the darkness. He grabbed the man’s hand and indicated for him to hold on to the back of his jacket. Brad made a mental note to find Hasan some goggles of his own.
They crept into the warehouse, stopping frequently to listen. When they reached the first cage door, Brooks went to open it and found it latched from the inside. He let his rifle hang from its sling and gingerly reached far inside the cage. Stretching for the latch and twisting hard, he was just able to reach it. He tugged at the latch and heard the click as it unlocked, then pulled his arm back through the cage and opened the door. They all cringed when it gave a loud screech as it swung open.