Tales of the Forgotten (6 page)

“There,”
Brad said, pointing at a locked cabinet marked ‘
Sensitive Items’.

Sean
looked at the locked door and pulled out a small jimmy bar he carried in his
gear. Slamming the bar into the door, he pulled hard and the door flew open.

“Jackpot!”
he said, pointing to a stack of boxes of brand new satellite phones. “These are
the same model as ours; even if they aren’t active we can use the batteries.
Hopefully we can power ours up.” Sean ripped a box open and stuffed the phone
and accessories into his pack; he then opened two more boxes to grab just the
batteries out of them. He also found a set of night vision goggles and three
boxes of batteries to go with them. He tossed the goggles to Hasan, who took
them with a smile.

They
walked back past the shelves, making note of things they might need. “You know,
it would almost be worth the convoy danger for the guys at the compound to come
get all of this stuff,” said Brad.

“Good
idea, except this shop is in a bit of a bad neighborhood,” Sean quipped back.

“Yeah,
about that …” Brooks said as he dropped to the ground from the last rung of the
ladder. “Looks like we’ll be here for a while. I made it to the rooftop
skylight; we’re surrounded. I stopped counting at a hundred and fifty. But,
from past experience, they get bored after a couple of days and go back to
their nests.”

“At
least we are well provisioned,” noted Hasan. He pointed at stacked cases of
bottles of water and MREs.

The
banging on the walls continued; it sounded like being in a small car in the
middle of a hail storm. Occasionally it would let up, then the howl would sound
and they would go back to the banging.

“Let’s
move these primal bodies out of the cage and against those sliding doors. Then
we will pack up everything we want in the duffle bags and have them ready to
go,” said Sean. “Bring a couple cases of those MREs and the water in here.
We’re going to make all of our noise now and get it out of the way. I want
everything packed and ready in the next thirty minutes. We’re going to settle
in the cage and wait for these bastards to go home. As long as we don’t make
any noise, they should get bored after a day or two.”

Quickly
the team dragged the primal bodies out of the cage and stacked them against the
sliding doors. Brad searched the shelves, looking for what he thought he might
need. Mostly he packed in MREs, but he also found a good multi tool and a
couple of flashlights. He topped off his bag with a stack of first aid kits and
some heavy leather work gloves. Brad moved back to the cleanest corner in the
shelved-in area where the men had started settling in. Brooks moved back to the
front of the building and verified the doors were secure before he pulled and
locked the cage door behind them.

 The
men sat as quiet as possible for hours, and the moaning continued. It wasn’t
until late in the day that it finally began to die down. Even though the
moaning had lessened, they could still hear the mass of them fumbling about
outside the doors. Occasionally one of them would bang loudly against the steel
door and wail in frustration. The team remained as silent as possible. When
night came, they opened a box that contained some tarps and quietly spread them
out on the floor to try to make the space more comfortable.

Brad
watched Sean dig though his pack and pull out a worn and battered Iridium
satellite phone. He pushed the power button but got no joy. He laid the phone
on the tarp in front of him. Next to it, he placed the stack of batteries he’d
salvaged from the cabinet. He tried the power on the new phone and it came to
life with a ding. It showed a 20% power symbol and when Sean held the phone to
his ear they could all hear the
‘this phone is not active’
message. Sean
quickly shut the phone off and removed the battery, then swapped it with the
battery in his old phone. With the new battery now in place, Sean pressed the
power button. They all saw the screen flash and the phone began to boot.

Sean
waited for the phone to finish and the
‘ready’
message appear on the LCD
screen. He quickly entered the security password and unlocked the phone. All of
the men sat up and watched intently as Sean cycled through the menu options.
“So who do we call first?” Sean whispered. “How about we phone home in Kabul?”
Sean pulled up the menu of stored phone numbers and cycled down. He found what
he was looking for and pressed enter. The phone showed it was connected to the
satellite and they heard the dialing and the ringing. It rang and rang until it
received the automated message that the party they were calling was not
available. So he tried Central Command in Bahrain, only to receive same
message. Sean cycled through every number stored in the phone with the same
result. Dejected, he tossed the phone to the tarp in front of him and sat back.

“Mind
if I give it a try?” Brad asked.

“Have
at it Brad, what’s mine is yours,” Sean replied.

Brad
picked up the phone, dialed his family’s number in Michigan, and pressed send.
The phone dialed, connected, and began to ring on the other end. They all held
their breath when a voice answered and Brad began to speak, but he was
interrupted by an automated message:

This
is the Emergency Broadcast System. The broadcasters in your area, in voluntary
cooperation with the FCC and other authorities, have activated the emergency
broadcast system. This system is to keep you informed in the event of an
emergency. This is not a test, repeat, this is not a test. This is an actual
emergency. Martial law has been declared in the greater territories of the
United States. A 24-hour curfew has been put into effect. Based on the
answering parties’ area code you have been assigned to evacuation zone … Blue
30. Your rally point is the intersection of … Interstate 28 and US 41. Do not,
repeat, do not attempt evacuation unless you are in immediate danger.
Evacuation rally points will only be manned between the hours of noon and 2
p.m. Eastern Standard Time. Local law enforcement suggests rationing of food
and water. Strongly encourage the avoidance of all non-family members. Do not
leave your home unless you are attempting evacuation. Food drops will be made
as soon as possible. Lethal force is authorized in defense of your dwelling or
family members; local law enforcement cannot respond to calls for assistance.
Tune to … AM channel 1500 for news and updates.

As
soon as the message finished, the call disconnected. Brad dialed the number
again and intently listened to the broadcast a second time. He sat in silence
for several minutes and listened to the primals outside milling about, banging
into the sides of the building and occasionally letting loose with a moan. The
sun had completely set now and there was no light coming in from the cracks in
the steel roof. “What do you think, Sean?” Brad asked softly.

“I
don’t know. I mean, we went over the training scenarios before, you know for a
U.S. invasion, but we never trained for anything like this. I would expect the
martial law order, having people go into lock down; maybe it’s a good thing,
bro? Keeps people off the streets, maybe limits infection and the spread. Let’s
just keep hoping for the best till we hear otherwise, OK?” Sean answered.

“You
know what, I have a number I want to try,” Brooks said, reaching for the phone.
He punched in a long number from memory … the phone connected and dialed. After
a moment they heard an answering machine.

“
You
have reached the coordinated voicemail message box; please leave your message
after the beep.”

“This
is Team Member four zero two zero, team sierra oscar one, authentication number
three six nine victor two seven, mission code zulu zulu.” Brooks finished
speaking into the phone and ended the call.

“What
was that Brooks? Mind filling me in?” Sean queried.

“Hmm
… yeah … from another life; several years ago working with the agency in the
Balkans they gave me that drop number. We used to call in our stats four times
a day, some things just stick in your memory, ya know,” Brooks replied.

 
“And
mission code zulu zulu?”
Sean asked.

“Yeah,
that means we are fucked, mission compromised, request immediate extraction.
Hopefully they still monitor the box. I was told that it’s processed by a team
at Langley.”

“Well,
good thinking either way. Let’s try to get some sleep while those things wander
around out there, I’m sure we’ll have another long day of waiting tomorrow.”

8.

It
was a long night; none of the men got much sleep. All through the evening they
would be startled awake by a loud bang or the screeching of metal. Primals
crashed against the steel walls and howled in frustration. Several times Brad
woke from a dream, alarmed that the primals had breached the doors and were
pouring through the cage walls, only to find them alone.

Brad
tried to get comfortable without making too much noise. He found it difficult
and he cursed himself for leaving the lucky unfired Sigma pistol back in his
rucksack. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. Tomorrow, he pledged to himself,
he would find a place on his gear so he would always have it with him. He sat
awake, staring at the sleeping men across from him, and wondered how the SEALs never
had trouble passing out.

Morning
came with an uneasy silence; the pounding had stopped with the dawn, and it had
been hours since they’d heard a moan. Sean sent Brooks back up the ladder to
peek outside. In the meantime, they opened MREs and had a cold, silent
breakfast. Sean quietly opened a case of water and passed out bottles to the
others. After a while, Brooks returned and took his seat back against the cage
door. “Most of them are gone, but there’s still about a half-dozen stubborn
ones standing out there,” Brooks whispered while opening a chicken fajita MRE.
“I would say we’re going to have to wait it out a bit longer; if we creep
outside, one of them is sure to sound the alarm.”

The
men agreed and settled back into their rest spots to wait uncomfortably through
the day. As morning passed, the temperature in the building went higher and
higher. Soon it was over a hundred degrees inside and the heat, mixed with the
stench of the dead primals and the mess that they had made in the void, made it
a slow torture to sit there. Brad wrapped his scarf tightly around his head and
tried to force himself to sleep to speed the time. He closed his eyes and began
to dream about home.

He
was at his parents’ home sitting on the porch. The weather was perfect. Brad
stepped off the porch into the fallen leaves and just stood there, enjoying the
cool night air and the breeze on his face. His mother was at the flimsy screen
door telling him to come back inside; his father told him it wasn’t safe on the
porch anymore. Brad didn’t listen, the breeze comforted him. He had the Sigma
pistol in his hand; he squeezed it, the grip cool against his palm. Brad liked
the feel of the weapon. It was a heavy and full-framed pistol, built for war,
and it made him feel safe holding it.

His
mother pleaded for him to come back inside the house. Brad looked back at her
and said he couldn’t, he had to wait for him. “I can’t leave him behind again,”
he said. “I’m sorry Mom, but I won’t leave without him.” Brad stepped onto the
stone walkway, then calmly walked closer towards the tree line; looking
intently into the shadows, he searched for his friend.

He
heard the branches snapping in the woods that surrounded the house. Brad saw
him cutting through the woods. It was dark and he couldn’t make out the face,
but he was sure it was him. Brad waved his hand to signal where he was. The man
paused and turned towards him. The man waved back, changed direction and moved
towards Brad.

Brad
heard the howl of the wolves in the distance. Brad’s father yelled for him to
please get back in the house, but Brad ignored him too. He waved for the man in
the woods to come closer. The man stepped out of the shadows; it was PFC Ryan!
He waved back at Brad and smiled. Ryan was still wearing his full combat gear,
and as he walked slowly toward the house, Brad saw Ryan’s arm was covered with
bloody bandages and his shoulder was twisted at a grotesque angle.

Brad’s
parents were yelling frantically now, pleading for him to return to the house …
but he shut out their voices. Not this close! He wouldn’t leave him again. Brad
looked beyond Ryan and saw the mob of primals crashing through the forest. The
primal screams drowned out the sounds of everything else; it was all he could
hear now. Brad screamed for Ryan to run to the house as he raised the Sigma
pistol to fire.

 
Brad felt the
sting on his cheek and the hand closed over his mouth. “You’re making too much
noise, buddy. You okay man?” Sean whispered. Brad woke from the dream and
looked into the eyes of his friend; he nodded his head and Sean let go.

“It
was just another bad dream,” said Brad.

“No
shame in that bro, we all got plenty of those coming to us,” Sean whispered
back before moving to his spot against the shelves.

Brad
was covered in sweat. He opened his bottle and took a few quick swigs of the
warm water. He looked at his watch; it was only 2 p.m., and yes, it was going
to be another long day. As late afternoon came, a wind picked up and made the
steel shell of the building rattle. Even though it startled the team inside, it
didn’t affect the primals outside at all. In no way did they seem to care about
the slap of the steel roof or the snapping of tent flaps outside. They had a
very ‘in-tune’ filter that knew the difference between what was a natural sound
and what was prey.

Brad
whispered to Sean and asked if it would be okay if he took a look out through
the roof skylight. When Sean nodded his approval, Brad silently rose and
stretched to relieve himself of the cramps in his body. He left his rifle next to
his duffle bag full of scavenged goods, walked through the cage door and to the
ladder. He stealthily climbed the rungs until he reached the small landing at
the top. Easing himself off the ladder, he took a seat next to the skylight,
slowly opened the window, and peered outside. As Brooks had said, there were
still six of them standing in that meditative state, motionless in the roadway
leading to the supply building. Brad looked around as far as he could. From his
position on the top of the building, he had a better vantage point of the camp
than he had the day before.

He
scanned all around. Off in the distance, he could see the living area where his
tent had been. He wondered if his personal belongings were still there: his
pictures of family, the letters from home.
Even if they are
, he thought,
I can’t risk my team to go after them
.

The
sun was starting to set in the sky and the things standing watch on the road
were starting to move again. The primals seemed oblivious to him high up on the
roof. Brad watched as others woke and walked out of the tents and bunkers that
covered the camp. Just as he had seen in the desert, they would stand and sniff
the air, then slowly gather. When they had formed a pack of about a dozen they
would wander off in search of prey. He observed them doing this all over the
camp. He realized with a sinking feeling that Bremmel must be home to over a
thousand of the primals by now.

As
the sun went completely into the horizon and night fell, the howling started
and he could hear them moving about. Brad had left his goggles below with his
gear, so he could no longer see them clearly. He looked below where he knew the
six primals stood watch but he could no longer make out their forms. Brad
slowly closed the window and descended the ladder back into the warehouse.
Moving silently, he made his way back into the cage and locked it behind him.
He sat on his gear and stretched his legs out in front of him. Brad considered
eating as he saw his other teammates had begun to do, but he was certain he
wouldn’t be able to hold down his food tonight with the overwhelming stench
surrounding them. Instead, he again wrapped the scarf tightly around his head
and fell into a dreamless sleep.