“I do believe. It just seems so hard. We’re risking so much, while our leaders stay home in fortified enclosures, giving us orders. They should be here too, shouldn’t they? When are they coming?”
“They’ll be here when the time is right. We need to prepare the way for them. Perhaps, we’ll become the new leaders here. It's our chance to live more fully in this life before going on to our great reward. You need to strengthen your faith. To have patience, and discipline, and understanding of what’s important. These people living in these lands are not important. All those material things you lusted after are not who you are. You need to be better in this life, so you can join me and the rest of our family where we belong.”
“I understand what you’re saying, I understand what you’re trying to teach me. But why so much destruction with these plans?” Harish motioned towards the plans laid out over the floor. “If you blow up the entire city, who will be left to follow us? Can’t we just take the evil one, this Dawson and his family? Aren’t they the ones who soiled our sacred leaders? If we kill everyone, who will be left to become Allah’s new believers?”
“I told you, Harish, you need to think more about the big picture. Big Springs is only one small city. These are all small towns being targeted. There will be plenty of people left to believe. They just need to be shown what happens when you don’t believe.”
Chapter 22 ~ Reconnaissance
Ahmed pulled the car over to the side of the road and killed the engine.
“We’re close, Harish. The closest we’ve ever been to being with Allah. We’re going to find justice for our people, and make one more family of the infidels pay for what they’ve done. It’s been a long wait, I know, but our patience will be rewarded. Our parents would be so proud. I know it.”
Harish looked around in the dark as his eyes slowly adjusted. He thought he made out the distant lights of a farmhouse, but he couldn’t be sure.
“Are you sure we’re close enough, brother? I can’t see anything. I can barely see the house from here.”
“Didn’t you hear what I said? I told you we’re close, Harish. I’m taking no chances in giving ourselves away. You need to trust me.”
Harish looked at his brother. “Yes, I heard. I wasn’t asking if we were close to Allah, I was asking about the house. We should get closer. We won’t be able to see anything from here.”
Ahmed didn’t say anything, but got out of the car. It was quiet, except for the sound of the crickets. The cooler temperatures this year had brought out huge swarms of the insects, and their chirping was the only sound to break the silence. Ahmed opened the trunk and began rummaging around. He pulled out two backpacks as Harish joined him at the back of the vehicle.
“Backpacks?” Harish asked. “We’re walking from here? This could take us all night. People still drive this road at night, and someone could report the car if we just leave it here. You can’t just assume, that no one besides us has a working vehicle. If we can strip damaged electronics and get a car running, then I’m sure others can too.”
“Harish, you really do need to start trusting me. Have faith. I told you, I know what I’m doing. This is a small rural farming community. People are home and in their beds by this time at night. I know how these infidels work. They rape and pillage the lands during the day, then sleep early and rise early. Now is the perfect time to learn what we can about the layout of their land.” He handed a pack to Harish. “Put on your pack, and follow me. We’ve got great deeds to accomplish.”
With a cloudy night and only a sliver of moon in the night sky, it was almost pitch black. Perfectly good for anyone looking to move about undetected. Harish and Ahmed could barely see each other as they started walking. Ahmed walked down the center of the road, while Harish chose to walk along the shoulder. Only Harish’s footsteps made any sound crunching on the loose gravel.
“You sound as loud as a sick camel moving across the dunes,” Ahmed said.
“You talk too much sometimes,” Harish responded, the sound of his footsteps quickening. “Have you ever even been to the desert, Ahmed? You’ve lived your entire life in America. What would you know about what a sick camel sounds like, let alone in the desert?”
“One doesn’t have to drown in the ocean to know that it would be an unpleasant experience. I can read, and I can learn. I don’t let my mind waste away. I may have lived my entire life in the land of the infidels, but I refuse to let them corrupt me. I’ve held strong to the dreams of our parent and their parents before them. I know where I’ve come from, and I know where I’m going. One day.”
“You fantasize too much about a place you’ve never been, and people you’ve never met. How can you be so sure in your convictions? How do you know the people you put so much faith in can be trusted? How can—”
“Be careful what you say next, Harish.” Ahmed glared in the direction of his brother’s footsteps. “You’ve done much to atone for your choices so far by joining this calling, but you still have much to do. I truly hope that you aren’t reconsidering. Remember the pledge you made to me … and to yourself. Remember what is at risk if we fail in our mission.”
They walked for another hour without speaking, with only the sound of the crickets and crunching footsteps. Then the sound of a car horn came from behind them. They both instinctively turned in time to see erratically moving headlights in the distance, not far from where they had parked the car.
“Did you hear a collision? Did they hit our car?” Harish asked.
They both stared down the distant road to where they had parked the car. The lights had stopped moving, and they strained their eyes to make sense of them.
“Those are definitely headlights. Headlights for something big. I told you this was a bad idea. I don’t know how the hell we were going to see anything at night on the property anyways. Couldn’t we have at least picked a night with a full moon?” Harish said as he stared down the road, trying to get a better view of what was going on.
Ahmed ignored the questions and resumed walking towards the Chambers property. “Let’s go, Harish. Those lights are of no concern now. You need to stay focused on the task at hand.”
“Look! I can see people,” Harish said, pointing back down the road. “There are people walking in front of the lights. You can see them flicker as they move past them. There are a bunch of them. They could be agents tracking us.”
“Calm down, Harish. There are no agents. We’re in the middle of farm country in the middle of the night. Agents aren’t out patrolling farmlands this time of night. It’s probably a bunch of drunk teenagers out past their curfew. It’s not our concern.”
“Damn it, Ahmed, you need to be more aware of what’s going on around you. Allah won’t protect you from everything. Drunk teenagers or government agents could all cause trouble for us. We’re out here at night so we won’t be seen … won’t be seen by anyone, right? Isn’t that the intention?”
The lights started moving towards them again, gaining speed.
“Yes,” Ahmed said. “You are right on that account. We do not want to be spotted by anyone. Even if they are drunken children. Perhaps we should take precautions. Although they’ve already seen our car by now. We should have taken measures to make it less visible I suppose.”
Harish just shook his head at his brother. “You think! Now you think that? It’s a little late.”
They both watched the advancing lights. They were approaching faster than they should be. For a moment or two, they stood and froze like the proverbial deer in the headlights. Finally Harish grabbed his brother by the arm and pulled him to the small culvert off the road. They lay unmoving there while a black SUV sped by, then watched the tail lights fade in the distance. The vehicle never slowed or braked as far as they could tell.
“Do you think they saw us?” Harish asked. Ahmed never answered. “I don’t know why I even ask sometimes. You’re so focused on what’s in front of you that you’re becoming careless. We could have both been
spotted if I hadn’t noticed the lights.” They got to their knees, brushing the dirt off. “They didn’t look like teenagers to me.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. They went by too fast to tell.”
“You're getting sloppy Ahmed. That was a black SUV, like the government agencies use.”
“Yes, and hundreds of thousands of other Americans. You’ve been watching too many government conspiracies on television, Harish. Not every black SUV is full of gun-toting, muscle-bound, no-neck government thugs.”
“Tell me again, exactly what makes you qualified to lead this little mission of ours?”
The started walking towards the Chambers house. This time, they both walked on the shoulder of the road.
“I don’t watch American television. You know that, Harish. Why would you even say that, and why would you question my ability to lead? I’ve been training for this all my adult life. What have you been doing? Do you think you should be in charge? Is that what you’re suggesting?”
Just then, a new sound rose in the distance. This time it wasn’t coming from down the road, it was coming from across the fields. It was definitely not a car engine. It was too loud and guttural sounding, like an old World War II fighter. Small multi-colored flashing lights appeared in the sky just over the crops, moving fast. Another stronger search light shone down on the crops and blinded Harish and Ahmed, ruining their night vision. In a flash, the bright line was on top of them and they both instinctively dropped to the road, thinking they were going to be run over. The plane flew over them, just fifteen feet above their heads. Ahmed yelled something while pumping his fist, but the drone of the engine drowned out his voice.
The plane raced away, over the next field, leaving them in a cloud of fine mist. They were wet from head to foot.
Ahmed was on his feet, his fist still in the air. “You will not kill me that easily, infidels. Your time is finished on this earth. Allah will not permit your atrocities to continue. Your sins will be punished when your time is through. You and all your family members will reside in the hell-fires of Jahannam for eternity.”
The plane turned in a wide, sweeping arc and began heading back in their direction. The lights got bigger as the plane came closer. Ahmed dropped his backpack and began rummaging through it till he found his handgun. He braced himself, aiming the weapon at the approaching plane.
“Ahmed, what are you doing? Put the gun away. We need to head back and get cleaned up. It’s just a crop duster. It’s going to pass by us further up the road this time.”
Ahmed wasn’t listening. “It tried to kill us. This time it will finish the job if we don’t stop it. Arm yourself, Harish. We’ll stand a better chance if we both fire on the aircraft.”
Harish grabbed Ahmed’s arm, turning him around. “Listen to me, Ahmed. The plane is not after us. No one knows we’re here. It’s just a crop duster spraying for insects. We’ve got to get back and get cleaned up. This stuff can’t be good for us; I can feel it stinging my eyes already. C’mon, let’s go. We’ll come back another day.”
Ahmed, pulled his arm back and aimed his weapon towards the plane, but it did in fact pass further up the road from them, out of range. He lowered the weapon, but watched the distant plane.
“Yes, of course you’re right,” Ahmed said. “I overreacted in the excitement of the moment. I should be more disciplined. There is water in the car. We can use it to clean up, and to rinse your eyes out. Let’s go.”
They walked back to the car without saying a word to one another. Harish thought of his apartment and his life back in Houston, while Ahmed whispered prayers to himself. Harish thought some of them sounded familiar, but couldn’t quite place them. The words were Arabic, mostly foreign to him, and he couldn’t remember ever being in a mosque. Strangely, distant thoughts of childhood came back to him. Memories that hadn't filled his mind in years. They were images of his mother, and brother in his bedroom. He was upset and she was comforting him. Another bad dream.
Chapter 23 ~ Attack Preparation
At 3:11am, Ahmed stopped the van a short distance from the airport service entrance gate. Far enough to not be seen by security, but close enough that they could make a hasty retreat. The airport was shut down for the night, with only one security guard on duty. They cut the locks on the gate, and quietly sneaked inside. Carefully they closed the gate behind them, and fastened their own lock in place. They’d been surveilling the nighttime guard long enough. Every night at 3:30am—give or take five minutes—he opened his lunch bucket, and pulled out his thermos of coffee. Then, he’d walk from the main terminal with thermos in hand over to the small airplane hangar, where the small planes and private jets were kept. The planes stored in the hangar were one and two-seaters owned by a couple of local ex-pilots. After the guard did his hangar rounds, he’d head back to the main terminal and have a snack.
Ahmed and Harish waited in the parking lot until the guard was about halfway between the terminal and the hangar. He never locked the back door of the terminal. Instead he’d prop it open with a small stick because the lock sometimes jammed, and he didn’t want to walk all the way around to the front of the building to get back in.
“I don’t understand what the big deal is with a small-town airport?” Harish asked. Who’s going to care if some small-town airport gets blown up? Shouldn’t we be part of something bigger? We should be targeting one of the big American cities, like New York or Los Angeles or San Francisco. We’re putting ourselves at risk for something that seems like a waste of time.”
Ahmed shook his head. “You don’t spend much time thinking, do you, Harish? You’ve wasted your life being brainwashed by Americans’ lies. The reason we’re here is exactly because it is a small town.”
“I thought it was Dawson Chambers that we were after, for the sins he committed against our sacred leaders.”
“We are here for Dawson Chambers, but the sacred ones have bigger plans in mind, not just the sins of one infidel. This power crisis from Allah is a blessed opportunity. Why make one man pay for a crime when you can make an entire country pay for generations of evil? Our leaders have undertaken a new strategy. Did you know that half of America lives in small towns like this one? Don’t answer that, of course you don’t. You’ve been blinded by the big city and constant lambasting of American media. While the bulk of evil transgressions occur in the big cities, our leaders have come to see that the heart and soul of America resides in small-town USA. Small towns are the backbone of America. At one time our leaders were blinded by the media and misinformation, much as you still are. They thought everything bad that happened in America happened in New York or Los Angeles. But that’s not entirely true; evil lives in every city and town in America, no matter how small.”
“I don’t know,” Harish said. “This just seems so easy. There’s little security, no Department of Homeland Defense, no military, and an insignificant police force. Even the Americans don’t believe this place is worth protecting. They see no value in it.”
“That’s where you’re oh so very wrong, brother. America doesn’t understand itself as well as we do. Their over-exaggerated sense of importance has blinded them to the truth. They’ve forgotten what’s important, where their real strengths lie. It’s in the people. And now, they’ve left those people unprotected and vulnerable. Our prophets have truly seen the light. That’s why we’re attacking here, in a small town. There is no security, no protection; it’s just lying here, trusting and open. It’s so easy.”
“But it’s only one small town. Will they really care? Will they even know about it?”
“If it was only one small town, brother, then I would agree with you. But it’s not. There are hundreds of towns and hundreds of people like us, true believers that will strike out on the same day we do. And have no fear about the word getting out. Our prophets have a plan for that. The people will know. The people in small towns and the people in big towns will all know, and feel the arrow in their heart.”
As the gua
rd strolled into the hangar and the slow-close hinge eased the door shut behind him, the brothers sprang into action. They made a beeline for the fuel depot, pausing only momentarily to pull the guard’s holding-stick out of the terminal door, and easing it quietly shut.
When people fly in and out of airports, they rarely take the time to think about all the little things that go on behind the scenes. It takes hundreds of staff to maintain the operations of a full-size airport. From cleaning crew, to baggage handlers, to security personnel, to cooks, management and many others. Travelers typically concern themselves with things that they see face to face. There’s the security personnel that have their own set of priorities. Most travelers think they’re just there to confiscate the bottle of over-sized hand lotion. Baggage handlers of course have nothing better to do than to scrounge through their luggage, and steal prized souvenirs from far off destinations, forever ruining their holiday memories. Meanwhile, administration staff sit in offices all day coming up with new rules to further impede the innocent travelers from having a carefree travel adventure. In reality, airports are small cities that come to life bright and early and shut down late after sunset … never truly asleep. They slumber through the wee night hours with a skeleton crew preparing for the next big day.
Most travelers probably don’t think about things like the tens of thousands of gallons of gasoline and jet fuel that are stored at airports. It’s not something that airports advertise. Who wants to think of all those gallons of highly explosive fuel sitting there just waiting to go boom. There is a small army of trucks and baggage transporters and emergency vehicles that need fuel, and they’re only there to support the big gas guzzlers, which of course are the planes themselves. The biggest airports have entire tank farms that are fed either by pipelines, or a constant stream of supply trucks. Two of the big concerns for fuel storage at an airport are of course safety and secondly water. Water is not a good thing to have in the fuel line of an airplane. Stringent controls are taken to make sure that airplane fuel is free from water. It’s one thing for an automobile to have water in the fuel line driving down the road, but another thing entirely for an airplane to have the same problem at thirty thousand feet. Water to extinguish a house fire is welcomed, but water that extinguishes the controlled explosion of fuel in a jet engine is not.
America's Sunset: A Post Apocalyptic Fight for Survival Page 11