America's Sunset: A Post Apocalyptic Fight for Survival (11 page)

“Look, man, I’m grateful. I really am. This is all unbelievably terrific. I’m reunited with my long-lost brother.” Harish managed to smile. “I’ve seen stuff like this on television, you know. Kids separated at birth who end up getting adopted by different parents, and then when they’re like eighty years old, all of a sudden a friend of a friend of a friend or someone ends up connecting the dots. One of them ends up flying halfway around the world, then they end up meeting each other with lots of hugging and crying in some airport terminal while paparazzi cameras go off. They reminisce, look at scrapbooks, and talk about what life could have been like. They share all the gory details of their love lives and heartaches, and then they go on. Or more like they go back to their regular lives. I mean, they don’t really show that on TV or anything, but you know that’s what has to happen. I mean c’mon, they’ve lived their whole lives apart. They’ve got friends and jobs and responsibilities. They have no choice really. That’s just the way it works. It’s not bad or anything, it’s just life. They certainly don’t show up and start trying to recruit each other into some crazy terrorist lifestyle, and ask them to start killing people they don’t even know.”

Ahmed listened and watched as Harish opened his second beer, and took a second swallow. “Look, Ahmed, don’t get me wrong. I’m super glad that you tracked me down and stopped by to say hello, but I’m not ready to throw away my life,” Harish lifted his arms and looked around the apartment, “and do something all crazy. I mean hey, I’m more than willing to break a few laws now and again, if it works to my advantage, but murder? No. No way.”

Ahmed started to speak, but Harish wasn’t finished. “Look, I’m thinking we should maybe have a nice visit here today, then get back to our regular lives with jobs and friends and such. We can get together for holidays; Christmas, Thanksgiving, whatever.”

“I don’t celebrate holidays of the infidels,” Ahmed said. “And you shouldn’t either. These are the people that destroyed our family.”

“If you’d prefer, we could do it on Muslim holiday. Just let me know which ones are the important ones, you know, like Christmas and Thanksgiving, and we can get together then.” Harish raised his beer in a cheers. “Any excuse for a party.”

“There are no Muslim holidays
like
Christmas and Thanksgiving.” Ahmed leaned forward. “This is not an insignificant thing I ask of you. I realize that. This is not something that I take lightly, and neither do the Imam. There has been a grievous sin committed here that needs to be addressed. We do not have a choice.”

“Look, I hear you, but I do have a choice. You can’t just expect me to join you in this. I have a life here. That life you’re talking about, it’s buried in my past. I know nothing about what you’re talking about. I was raised by Americans in foster homes. Some of them were horrible, but most were pretty good. They tried to do right by me, given the circumstances. I didn’t always fit in, and not a lot of people wanted some
foreign
kid living in their homes, but I managed. I got through school without getting beat up too much and actually graduated. My foster parents might not have agreed with all the decisions I made in life, and where I ended up, but that’s not their choice anymore now, is it? It’s mine. That’s one great thing about being an American. You get to make your own choices. You get to live your own life. Freedom. Other things about this country may not be perfect, but I get by. And I have my freedom. No one takes that away.”

Ahmed stood and paced. He shook his head, muttering some Arabic words that Harish didn’t understand. He sat back down and picked up the glass Harish had given him. He wiped off a yellow smudge, then took a drink.

“This is no way for a child of Allah to live. You can do more with your life. Does it not bother you that both our parents were murdered in violent crimes?”

Harish’s eyes grew larger, and he started to say, “I didn’t know—”

“You were too young to know what really happened, and your foster parents either didn’t know, or chose not to tell you. Our mother was still pregnant with you when our father died. I didn’t know the truth about Mother till I was an adult, when the Imam first contacted me. They’ve been keeping an eye on us from a distance all these years. They gave me some of Mother’s personal effects they’d recovered. I ran away from my last foster home, I wasn’t as lucky as you. All of mine were horrible. The government officials didn’t even try to keep us together. They assumed that because we were so young it didn’t matter. I was older than you, but still too young when she died. Gang violence. Infidel transgressors who probably didn’t like what she was wearing or how she spoke. The police record didn’t say. I saw it. I have her diary and a police record and some distant memories. She wouldn’t have wanted this life for you. She would have wanted you to be a man, not a nobody. She was a very proud Muslim woman. If she had lived, she would have taught us about our culture, our heritage, and our father.”

“You have her diary?” Harish asked rhetorically. “Does she say anything about me?”

“Yes, our mother loved her entire family. Of course she talks about you. You were her
Little King
. That’s what she called you. She had big dreams for you.”

“That’s … that’s good to hear. I’d like to read it some time if I could.”

“Of course, I could show it to you, when you come with me.”

Harish stood and paced around the room. “I still don’t know about this whole mission and hunting down some guy I don’t even know. My life may not be all that great, but I get by. I have a job, and a place, and food. That’s more than a lot of people in this country have right now.”

Ahmed failed to hide his disappointment. “You weren’t put on this Earth to just
get by
Harish. Neither of us were. We’re destined for something more.” Harish started to speak, but Ahmed cut him off. “There’s another thing you should know, about those that have entrusted me with this mission.
Entrusted us.
They punish failure without compassion. There is no place for weakness in their world. If I do not finish what they have asked of me, than they will not hesitate. I will not find me right full place with Allah.”

Ahmed stopped pacing, and faced his brother. “But … that’s got nothing to do with me. I haven’t agreed to any of this. They wouldn’t hurt me … would they?”

“Given what you now know, I’m not sure what they would do to you. As for me, there is no question as to my fate. If I can’t convince you to join in our cause, then my life will be forfeit. Of that I have no doubt.”

Chapter 21 ~ Big Strategy

Ahmed spread the plans out over the floor of the grungy apartment. The plans included blueprints, hand-drawn sketches, technical definitions, and a schedule. Ahmed and Harish weren’t the only ones involved in this operation. Their leaders had agreed that now was an opportunity to make a bigger statement for the cause. Multiple cities across the US were being targeted. Timing was critical, and it was essential that all the participants understood their role. Little of the big picture was disseminated. There were others that would play a part in the national attacks, but Harish and Ahmed only knew their jobs. The coronal mass ejection which crippled the power grids of the West had created unparalleled opportunities for those who believe that Western culture had outlived its usefulness.

“Why are they attacking so many?” Harish asked. “That doesn't seem wise. The Americans will retaliate. Remember 911.”

“We can’t see everything that Allah sees,” Ahmed answered. “Besides, the infidels will be too weak to retaliate. This is a glorious opportunity, one that won’t come again for many lifetimes. We are blessed and fortunate to participate. I'd prefer a bigger role, but the leaders have spoken, and we will play our part. Both of us will.” Ahmed fixed his stare on Harish. “After everything these people have done to our family, I would’ve expected you to be a little more enthusiastic.”

“I try not to live in the past,” Harish answered. “It's painful, and living in the moment made me happier. Now, I'm not sure. This plan in this moment scares me.”

“When are you going to stop thinking like that, Harish? Haven’t I taught you anything? You’re starting to sound like them. This life is just a trial, a test. An opportunity to guarantee us a place in the true everlasting hereafter. How can you not believe? Can you not see how everything has fallen into place for us? The Westerners’ time is done. It’s our time. Time for our family and our people to take over this world, and to prepare more souls for a glorious afterlife.”

“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.