Blue Plague The Fall

by Watson, Thomas A.

  Blue Plague: The Fall

  By Thomas A Watson

  Art by Rhiannon Gallacher

  This book is a work of fiction

  Any references appearing in this book to persons: alive or dead, places or objects is purely coincidental.

  Acknowledgement

  I have always wanted to write books but never found the time. I recently moved and changed jobs and one day told my wife that I wanted to do it. With her encouragement and that of my kids I sat down and started writing. What you read here I could never have accomplished without the support of my family and friends. I must say that I really enjoy it.

  Talking with family and friends while doing this series made me realize no author can write a book without outside help. I would constantly ask, “Would you do this?” or “Is this a little much?” My wife Tina is my first editor. Many times she would tell me, “You are getting graphic?” or, “That chapter was really boring.”

  Never could I have imagined how difficult it is to publish a book. Talking with editors, getting the cover art competed, talking with the publishers, and rereading the book so many times I could almost recite it. The cover art is by Rihanna, who I met at my new job, is her rendition after reading the first draft. Rihanna is more than the artist; she also put forth ideas for this series.

  To my wife and family I say thank you for your love and support while I sat and typed away. To my friends I must say thank you also. My residents, coworkers, colleagues, bat babies, and friends at the zoo. Thank you and I miss you.

  I hope you enjoy book one of the Blue Plague series: The Fall.

  Chapter 1

  Sitting in the back of the Land Rover, getting bounced all over, Manny could not help but think that he knew it was a mistake to come to the Congo. Two months in the middle of nowhere, in the jungle, the closest village was Kinkala. It was nothing more than a hovel compared to an American village. Hell, he could not kid himself; he knew why he volunteered to come on this mission trip for college. She was in the backseat; Ellen was looking out the window as the truck sped down the road. Manny could not believe how beautiful she was. Even after seeing her at college two years ago, he still lost his breath when he stared at her. Her blonde hair and ice-blue eyes made him think of some Norse goddess. Sitting next to her was Casey. She was attractive in a plain way but not like Ellen. The only reason he even started the Helping Society club was because of Ellen. He would kill kittens if that meant being next to her.

  Now his plan had fallen apart. This mission into the Congo was to be his chance to make Ellen his, but these damn savages here had screwed that up. Manny was an engineer assigned to help set up the water filtration system for a village out in the middle of the jungle. Just getting there took fourteen hours to hike from the road after seven hours in a Range Rover from the airport, getting beat up on the roads. Ellen was a horticulturalist and was going to show them how to use as little of the land as possible for their farming, and Casey was the botanist. She would show them what kind of foods to grow. They had been in country for one month then the problems started.

  A group of hunters had come back, saying there were crazy people in the jungle attacking anything. One hunter said he had shot one crazy person four times, and it did nothing to him. The liaisons, Prince, Aristide, and Djang, said it was just warriors from a local tribe out wanting the village’s hunting area. When Ellen asked about one of the hunters shooting one of the crazy people, Prince said, “Someone is always shooting something or someone in the Congo.” That only confirmed Manny’s suspicion that everyone here in this country was a savage. They were warned by the State Department that the Congo was a very violent place and not to travel there. Like any man, he let the wrong head do his thinking, and now his ass might pay for it.

  Two days after the hunters returned, they were in their tent after a long day of work when they heard a scream outside. It was well past 10 p.m., so the village was asleep. This was not like anything they had heard before. It was filled with pain and fright. Goose bumps immediately came up on their arms. Ellen was sitting in the corner on her cot talking to Casey; both had just washed and had their hair up in towels. Manny was on the other side of the tent, half asleep, dreaming about Ellen. At the sound of the scream, all three jumped to their feet.

  Ellen was the first one to speak, “What the hell was that?”

  Casey added, “Was that an animal or a person?”

  “I have no idea and don’t want to know,” said Manny.

  “We should go see what it is or if anyone needs help. Then check the farm animals,” replied Ellen.

  “Are you insane, Ellen? Did you hear that? Whatever that was, it means trouble,” said Manny.

  Ellen turned to look at Manny. She knew how he felt about her. He had followed her for the last two years in college. Never out in the open about it, just in the background. He talked to her all the time, and truth be told, she did like him. He was not bad looking, studying in a great field, and was fun to be around. Yet he had never asked her out on a date. Be damned if she was going to ask him, she was still old-fashioned about that. A girl that asked a boy out was just telling the boy she wanted something else.

  Manny never even said anything when she dated other guys. But the main problem she had with Manny was he was a coward at heart. He would not stand up for anything. Physically, he was not weak: he ran and did pushups and sit-ups every day. Very little fat was on his lean body. Manny just wanted someone else to stand up and do something.

  “Manny, how could you not want to help?” Ellen asked.

  “Easy. Wait here and hope whatever is out there does not come in here,” Manny replied.

  “We are in a tent, Manny, not a house, so we are not that well protected,” stated Ellen.

  Casey started to look around the tent then walked to the gas lantern, turning it down.

  “We may be in a tent, but something is out there, and if it comes in here, we are going out there,” Manny added. Just then another scream split the night.

  “Holy shit,” Casey whispered as she turned the lamp off.

  “What are you doing, Casey?” Ellen whispered at her.

  “I don’t want anyone or anything to know we are in here,” she said in a quivering voice.

  More screaming started then gunfire erupted in the night. All three hit the floor at the sound of gunfire.

  “What the hell is going on out there?” Manny said. “I thought all the fighting had stopped.”

  “Could be bandits,” said Casey, curled up on the floor. Their eyes were adjusting to the dark interior of the tent. To the west, toward the river, they could make out flashes on the tent wall from the gunfire.

  “It sounds like it’s all coming from the other end of the village by the river,” Ellen stated.

  “Well, what do you want me to do about it?” Manny said.

  “Nothing, Manny, I was just making a point, that’s all,” yelled Ellen.

  “Will you two shut the hell up please. Someone could hear you two,” whispered Casey as she scrambled over to her nightstand, grabbing a nail file.

  “What are you going to do with that, give someone a manicure?” asked Manny.

  “They take it away from you on an airplane, so it must be a weapon,” replied Casey.

  Manny just looked up in the air. The screams and the gunfire kept on for an hour, slowly moving closer. All three just stayed on the floor of the tent curled up to each other. They heard footfalls running up to the tent. They just held each other tighter.

  “Are you guys still in there?” They heard a deep voice with a thick accent that could only be Prince.

  “Yes, we are in here, Prince,” replied Ellen.

  The tent flap unzipped, and a big
silhouette blocked the moonlight out. Prince was a large man but as gentle as a baby, with skin as dark as night. All three exhaled with relief at the sight of him. Prince was the one thing that could be relied on in this country. Then their eyes fell down to his hands and the AK-47 that they held.

  “Why the hell are you holding a gun, Prince?” explained Ellen.

  “Shut up, Ellen. It beats my nail file,” stated Casey.

  Manny smiled; thank God she said that instead of him. Ellen may have been beautiful, but she was very naive to the world.

  “We have to go now,” said Prince.

  “We are not packed, though,” whispered Casey.

  “You will have to leave it. There is no time. We must go now, and running through the jungle at night is hard enough without you carrying backpacks,” Prince said.

  “What the hell is going on out there, Prince?” Ellen asked.

  “Crazy ones are attacking us. They came out of the jungle and are just ripping people apart. They are not stopping to take anything, just attacking people. The hunters have taken some down, but they are being run over by the crazy ones. Aristide has already been taken by them,” Prince informed them.

  Everyone just looked at him with blank stares. Aristide, the guide who was always laughing and had a smile that could make anyone feel better. How could anyone hurt him? The screams started getting closer.

  “We must go now. Djang is at the trail waiting for us. We must hurry. We can’t keep her waiting long by herself,” Prince said as he looked at each of them in their eyes. They could see he was scared. If this could scare him, someone who had fought in the Congo before, what chance did they stand? Each rushed to put on hiking boots and pull on clothes. In sixty seconds, they were ready to go.

  Manny almost said something about how fast the girls got ready but decided not to. He was leaving behind his three hundred-dollar backpack and laptop with the solar recharger. After the screams and gunfire, he did not care. He could buy more; let the savages have them if they left them alone.

  As they exited the tent, a soft breeze blew in from the west off the river beside the village. The smell was the worst thing any of them had smelled. Casey doubled over throwing up. Prince grabbed her by the arm, pulling her along while she was vomiting. She did not complain as he pulled her along. This surprised Manny because she complained about everything. Maybe it was the look of fear in Prince’s eyes that made her hold her complaints. The smell was indescribable. The only mental image that Manny could refer it to was rotten sewage exposed to heat.

  The smell was so strong it could be tasted. Everyone else was trying not to join Casey in vomiting. They just concentrated on keeping up with Prince because he could only pull one of them along at a time with one hand. The other hand held onto the AK like an extension of his body.

  “Where is Djang?” asked Ellen.

  “She is at the edge of the village at the trailhead, waiting on us,” replied Prince.

  “What if she is not there?” asked Casey, wiping a hand across her mouth.

  “Then we leave without her,” Prince stated, matter of fact.

  Ellen looked at Prince as he finally let Casey go to run on her own two feet. How could he just leave Djang? She had seen the way they looked at each other and even saw them hold hands. She knew something was between them.

  As if reading her thoughts, Prince stated, “My duty is to you three. Each of you came here to better our homeland with your knowledge, working for nothing else but to help others. That is the reason it is my duty to get you back to Brazzaville to the airport. Djang used the radio to tell them to get you three a flight ready. She told them fighting had broken out here.”

  Manny liked Prince even though Manny knew he would have hauled ass if he knew the jungle and which way to go. Not that Manny felt like he was a coward, but fighting hurt, and he did not like pain.

  Moving through the village, they stopped at every other hut to look around; the screams were still behind them but moving further into the village. They could see people, mainly young kids and old people, looking out of the huts as they passed. Fear was etched in the faces that looked out. For people who had lived through ethnic cleansings, tribal wars, and holy clashes, this should be nothing new, thought Manny. Yet he knew this was different. Just the looks on the faces told him they did not know what was happening. The fear that was in his stomach was not like anything Manny had ever experienced. Just the feeling in his stomach was enough to make him puke; coupled with this damn smell, he felt lucky that he was not throwing up his hiking boots.

  As they neared the edge of the village, Prince stopped them. A hundred-yard clearing separated them from the jungle and the trailhead. Prince turned to them, giving instructions, “We must go across this clearing very fast. Stay behind me. Do not get beside or in front of me. If we are attacked, I must be able to fire at them.” He added, “If you see them, do not yell; just stay behind me. I will not shoot them until they attack us. The crazy ones seem to be drawn to sound, so please stay quiet.” Everyone nodded their heads that they understood. Prince stood up in a crouch, and he whispered, “Let’s go.”

  When Manny stepped into the clearing, he swore he felt a thousand eyes on him. There were only a hundred and thirty to a hundred and sixty people in the whole village. He wished he could be like the action heroes on TV. They might have been scared, but they still kicked ass. He could almost swear he felt his testicles in his throat.

  They followed Prince like they were told, running for everything they were worth. When they got to the middle of the clearing, they heard a scream directly behind them. Ellen paused her stride, taking quick look behind them.

  In the hut they had just left, a group of people painted blue were standing at the door pulling out two kids and an old couple, biting and ripping chunks of flesh off the bodies. The screams had pain in them, but Ellen could detect a lot of fear in it. The movies had nothing on the screams. She was sorry she ever left America and swore to herself that if she made it back, she would never leave again.

  “Keep up,” Prince said to her. She had fallen a few steps behind the group. Ellen pushed her body harder than she had ever before. Casey heard Ellen’s pace quicken and thought whatever was back there making people scream was gaining on them. Casey leaned forward, pushing herself to the limit. Manny saw both girls start to pass him by; yes, he was running in front of them, but the way he saw it, he was protecting them from danger in the front. An old saying suddenly popped in his head: As two people were running from a bear, one turned to the other and said, “I don’t think we can outrun this bear.” The other person said, “I’m not trying to outrun the bear–just you.” With that thought, Manny shifted into high gear in a full sprint that only fear can bring out.

  Manny blew past Prince like he was standing still as Manny headed for the trailhead. Prince called for him, but Manny was not hearing anything except the demons in his head. Just as he reached the trailhead, something hit him hard. All the air was knocked out of his lungs as he hit the ground. He rolled over to see what had hit him, and Djang was leaning over him with a finger on her lips, shaking her head side to side. Djang was short and stocky, which was very unusual in the Congo for a woman. Her hair was braided and pulled back with a black scarf on top of her head. There was nothing weak about her.

  Prince and the girls trotted up beside them. Prince knelt down beside them, motioning for the girls to kneel with them. He looked at Djang then to Manny.

  “That was very stupid, Manny. If something had come out of the jungle, I could not have done anything except watch you die,” Prince scolded him.

  “I’m sorry, Prince, but I thought something was after us,” said Manny.

  “Something is after us, and if we do not think first, we will die in this jungle like the others back there. They heard the screams and gunfire, but they do not try to escape. They just tried to hide, and they died,” Prince said as he turned to Djang. “Did you get in touch with Brazzaville before you ca
me here?”

  “Yes, they said they will have a plane ready when we get there, and the trucks will be on the road in the morning, ready to take us,” replied Djang.

  “How much ammo did you bring?” Prince asked.

  “About three hundred rounds,” she replied. For the first time, the three looked at her, realizing that Djang was carrying an AK-47 like Prince.

  “I have about the same,” he replied. He reached down to Djang’s feet, picking up a backpack, and put it on as Djang did the same with her backpack.

  Casey asked, “Why couldn’t we get our packs like you got yours?”

  “We have learned to never unpack fully and always keep it ready to go. Plus, we are used to carrying packs. You are not. And we will have to move fast but quiet over the next few hours,” Prince informed her as he looked back at the village. Most of the screams had stopped, and no gunfire could be heard.

  “Djang, have you heard anything in front of us?” Prince asked.

  “No,” she replied.

  “What happened to Aristide?” Djang asked.

  “He was taken by seven of the crazy people at one time. He was lashing at them with his machete, and they did not stop. They just took him to the ground and started biting and eating him while he was screaming,” Prince replied. No one spoke; they just looked at Prince.

  “Why are they painted blue?” asked Ellen.

  “Surely you are mistaken,” Manny replied. “There aren’t any cannibals in the Congo anymore.”

  “There are cannibals in the Congo. I have seen them. But the crazy ones are not cannibals; they were dressed like loggers. I don’t know why they are blue,” Prince solemnly stated.

  “We have to move now. I will lead. You three stay in the middle. Djang will stay in the back. No talking, and do what we do,” he said as he turned to the trail and started walking.

  Everyone fell in line following Prince into the jungle. The jungle sounds became more pronounced the further they went. What moonlight they had at the village was being choked out by the jungle canopy. Small animals scurried in the undergrowth, and insects chirped and buzzed around them as they moved on.