My Name Is Tristan Page 2

  Journal,

  Today we moved into a new place. Honestly it’s just like every other one we’ve been in. Nothing special. I’m sick of living like this, always on the move, never spending more than three nights in a place. Not that I would want to spend three nights in these windowless voids. I guess you could say I’m getting a little homesick. I miss my family, I miss my friends but most of all, I miss my freedom. Every time I look at him I’m reminded of what I’m missing out on; what we used to have.

  So that’s why he’s acting the way he is, he’s home sick. Gosh, I haven’t been homesick in months. It went away after a while. I’m sure this is something that will pass on its own. I reread the entry one last time before closing the journal and sending it back through the air to its original resting place. Fatigue sets in so I lay my head down to rest and within minutes I’m sound asleep.

  ~*~

  “Tristan! Wake up!”

  I’m lying on the ground half asleep with someone shouting my name and shaking me awake. I open my eyes to see Fletcher hovering above me.

  “Come on, we have to move,” he says with determination in his voice.

  I look over and see Skinner awake and packing his pillow, blanket and journal into his back pack. I grab my stuff and the candle and hurriedly pack my things away.

  “What’s wrong?” I groggily ask. “Why are we moving so soon?”

  “Amille thinks we’ve been followed.”

  Well that’s nothing new. We’re constantly being followed, more like hunted. But I know the drill. We don’t ask questions, we just do as were told and move on out. Soon, Amille enters the room and you can tell by the look on his face that the situation is serious.

  “Are they ready?” he asks Fletcher.

  Fletcher looks at Skinner then at me.

  “We’re ready,” I say, glancing at Skinner who avoids eye contact with me.

  “Alright, let’s move then.”

  We walk outside and immediately the morning sun burns my eyes. No matter how many times we’ve done this, it’s always the same. Our eyes get adjusted to the low light of the candle so when we step outside it’s as if we’re seeing the sun for the first time. I have to squint my eyes to see where we’re going and reluctantly I see that Amille has managed to find us a Jeep. I crawl into the back seat with Skinner getting in right after me. I know the drill all too well when it comes to vehicles. We’re never aloud up front and we always have to have someone sitting in back with us which makes for a cramped car ride. Fletcher gets shotgun with Cooly sitting in the driver’s seat.

  “Let’s go,” Amille says.

  Cooly quickly puts the Jeep in gear and we set off down the gravel road. No one says a word for the first two hours. We sit there in silence, expecting something to happen. We’re constantly in that mindset; waiting for the inevitable. Every time we set off for our next destination, David pops in my head and I’m reminded of the good times we had being out on the road, although the circumstances were quite different.

  David and I push through the double doors and into the large room full of cubicles and people chatting away. Even in the middle of the night HQ was always a busy place. We rounded a corner and soon found CO standing behind his desk, his phone up to his head.

  “Yep, they just walked in,” he was saying. “I’ll let them know. Thanks…bye.”

  CO hangs up and lets out a loud frustrated sigh before finding his spot back in his chair.

  “What was that all about?” David asked.

  “It appears that we have an old problem be reborn again.”

  Both David and I shot CO a confused look.

  “Remember an old assignment, Jonathon Hein?” CO asked.

  Jonathon Hein was part of this terrorist group whose plan it was to take down the United States from the inside. They would do this by recruiting heavily and then infiltrating upper levels of government. Their recruiting tactics were genius as they simply pointed out flaws and twisted facts about the government and asked for people to volunteer either their money or time which would help them “rebuild” America. People who volunteered went door to door asking for money for this great and noble cause. But what actually went on was Jonathon Hein would take their money and finance a civil war which was brewing for years and years. When the civil war actually started, he was somewhat of a general. So our job, was to bring him in and effectively end his campaign for the war. So that’s what we did, quite well, too. David and I were able to disarm him and his men in a matter of seconds by simply catching them off guard.

  “Yeah, we remember him,” David said.

  “Well he’s been released from prison.”

  “What?” I exclaim. “How?”

  “Apparently on good behavior, but I believe somebody with some power pulled a few strings.”

  “And so you need us to bring him back in again,” David figured.

  “Not exactly,” CO said. “We need you two to follow him, see where’s he’s going. Get his habits down, his routine. We think he’s going to try and start what he failed to finish last time.”

  “Which was what, CO?” I curiously ask.

  CO pauses, “You two.”

  David and I exchange confused glances. “What do you mean?” I nervously wonder.

  “You two are his greatest threat,” he begins. “You’re the only thing, in his mind, that stands in his way of total war.”

  “So you’re going to send us out to find a man who’s trying to find us?” David asked.

  “Exactly,” CO said. “You two are the best we have in this field and we need someone who can finish the job.”

  A moment of silence followed. Doubt began to creep into both our minds as to the reasoning and purpose of this mission.

  “CO,” I began, “I have full trust in you and your judgment. But don’t you think it would be wiser to send someone else in; someone who isn’t being hunted?”

  “Boy’s listen up,” CO said, “Sometimes all you need is a little hope to get you through your darkest hour. If this was supposed to be an easy task then I would have sent someone else to do it. I need you two to be on board with me on this.”

  I look over at David who’s looking back at me. “Alright,” David began, “We’ll do it.”

  A bump in the road woke me up. I sit up and realize we’re still in the jeep driving to God knows where. How long was I out? Two, three hours? I look over and see Skinner staring out the window of the car, off in his own little world. Fletcher’s at the other window staring out into the desert, most likely thinking about his wife and kids. It’s been two years since we set off on our journey around the world. Two years since he’s seen his family. Being the only family man on this expedition, Amille lets him make frequent satellite phone calls as long as he doesn’t reveal where we are.

  So I’m stuck in the middle, the most uncomfortable spot in the Jeep. I look over to Skinner who’s still staring out into God knows where. Skinner turns and shoots me a glare that could kill a man.

  “What are you staring at?” he yells.

  I’m taken back by this merely by the fact that he talked. “Wow,” I begin, “where did this come from?”

  “I know you read my journal!”

  Ah…crap.

  “We agreed those would be private from each other!”

  “There’s no reason to get angry! I just wanted to know why my best friend wasn’t talking to anybody?”

  “Then ask!”

  “You wouldn’t have answered because you weren’t talking!”

  Skinner wound back his arm and followed through with a punch to my face. I was taken back by this as I had no clue that it would escalate to this! I naturally respond with a punch to his face. Before we know it, Fletcher has his arms around me, restraining me. Luckily Fletchers a big man who can easily pick me up because that’s exactly what he did. One moment I was in the middle of the Jeep and the next I was being lifted through the air by this big, burly man who gently set me down next to the window.r />
  “Now both of you look out the window!” Fletcher ordered.

  I stared out my window feeling like I’m in a cage. It’s funny how often that feeling comes over me. I look over towards Skinner.

  “Nah uh!” Fletcher began, “window!”

  I turn back to my window and begin to replay the events that just transpired. Sure, we’ve had our sprouts of anger towards each other but never has it escalated to physical harm. I’m beginning to think that there’s more than just homesickness behind his moods.

  Twenty minutes go by and no one says a word. The silence becomes deafening as we trudge along these gravel stone roads. Suddenly, Cooly lets out a sigh of frustration.

  “Shit!”

  The Jeep then rolls to a stop.

  ~Chapter Two~

  Cooly gets out of the Jeep and slams the door shut.

  “You two stay in here,” orders Amille.

  Fletcher follows Amille out of the Jeep and soon the three of them are at the front of the Jeep staring into the engine. I look over at Skinner who’s still looking out his window, back towards me. The afternoon sun beats down on the Jeep creating an uncomfortably warm environment. I’m able to hear Cooly, Fletcher and Amille arguing about something outside. Soon, Fletcher comes around the Jeep and opens up my door.

  “Come on out,” he instructed. “We’re going on foot from here.”

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “We don’t know, possibly an EMP.”

  I turn around and look at Skinner who’s just getting out of the Jeep and actually makes eye contact with me.

  “Don’t look at me!” He says, “it wasn’t me!”

  I believe him. Amille comes around the corner and instructs us to follow him to the back of the Jeep.

  “Now we’re going on foot from here which means we have to be extra careful.” He instructs.

  “How do we know it was an EMP?” Skinner asks.

  “Well everything seems to be fine with the engine.” His mouth draws into a firm line before he says the rest. “The satellite phones aren’t working, either.”

  Skinner and I exchange a nervous glance. Amille opens the trunk of the Jeep to reveal a dozen different types of weapons, ranging in sizes. He grabs two hand guns and tosses one to both of us.

  “Now be smart with them,” he nervously says while he pulls out a more powerful machine gun. “Let’s move out!”

  We start walking across the mountain side with Fletcher up front, Cooly back with us and Amille in the rear. Our thoughts begin to race, we prepared ourselves for whatever we may come across. I put my gun away, shoving it in my pocket. I hate guns and wouldn’t need to use it should the opportunity arise. The real threat right now: boredom. I couldn’t handle the silence any more.

  “So where are we exactly?”

  “We just crossed into Turkey about an hour ago,” Amille says.

  “Turkey,” I say, “never been here before.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I notice a smile creep across Skinner’s face. We continue to walk for another three hours, barely saying a word, seeing no signs of life anywhere. The terrain drastically changes, too. We soon find ourselves amongst trees and shrubberies. This brings us brief moments of shade and relief from the sun. Our walking soon brings us to steeper hills with rocks covered in moss. Our climb is slow but we move on, making progress. I step on a rock and it instantly it slips out from under me. I’m falling backwards when suddenly a hand grabs my arm; catching me from falling down the side of the mountain. I look up and see Skinner holding my arm, smiling at me. Whatever bitterness there was between us vanishes away like the soft wind that kisses our cheeks. From that point on everything is fine between us.

  An hour later brings us to a small agricultural village sitting in a clearing amongst the tree covered mountains. We sit back amongst the trees while Amille goes down and inspects the village. We take the time to watch the village, study the people. All the huts are shaped in a horseshoe with a single light pole in the center. Kids are in the center playing with each other, women are off to the side weaving baskets and cooking in large pots over open fires. I even notice a cat which reminds me of Bernard. This is definitely a peaceful village which lacks the touch of modern society. We sit there for a good thirty minutes until Amille comes back.

  “Alright, I have good news,” he says. “They have a phone we could use. It’s in the middle of the village on the light post.”

  We reluctantly exchange glares of relief.

  “We’re going to meet up with a man about six clicks south of here. From there he will take us to our next rendezvous point.”

  Although we are relieved at the news, exhaustion sets in and the thought of hiking another six kilometers makes my legs go week. But we have no choice so from deep within, I summon the strength to carry on. We climb through the woods and over steep hills, side stepping loose rocks and downed trees. The sky is slowly turning darker which means we need to pick up our pace. We trudge on, work through the pain, and soon we came to a highway.

  We sit behind trees and watch car after car drive by. Night is quickly coming upon us and we sit there patiently waiting for our contact to arrive. A white van slowly pulls over to the side of the road and comes to a stop. A moment later, a man in traditional Turkish attire steps out, walks to the hood and pops it open. Steam comes rolling out, engulfing the man. That is our signal.

  “Alright,” begins Amille, “everyone slowly down the mountainside.”

  Heat smacks my entire body and throws me to the ground. I sit up trying to catch the breath that’s left my body. The van is smoldering in flames, shooting fifteen, twenty feet into the air. I see the body, or what’s left of the driver, thrown out amongst the highway, bloody and tangled. Cars begin to back up as far as the eye can see. A few good citizens get out of their vehicles and see what they can do to help. There’s nothing they can do, though. The driver’s dead, his van engulfed in flames. Our chances of getting out of here are now very slim.

  “Come on!” Amille yells. “We have to get out of here!”

  I try to find a good footing as I rush away but instead my feet find loose rock and I fall flat on my stomach. Skinner quickly grabs me by my arms and pulls me up, dragging me away from the highway. We run, hard, until our lungs burn from exhaustion and our legs grow weak. Every step we take is another step further away from the highway, further away from danger. After a solid thirty minutes of hard core running, Amille finally slows down and rests on a fallen tree. We all take the time to catch our breath.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  Amille pauses before answering. “I believe it was an RPG. I saw it coming from the other side of the highway.”

  An RPG. That means they are close, too close; maybe ten, twenty yards away from us. How could we have been so careless as to let them get that close to us? What if we had reached the van and gotten in it? Thank God that they were careless and didn’t wait for us to reach the van.

  That’s when we smell it. The thick, piercing smell of something burning that shouldn’t be. We all exchange confused glances.

  “That can’t be the smell from the van, can it?” Fletcher asks.

  Amille shakes his head. “No, we’re too far away to smell that. This is something different.”

  We sit there for a moment and let the smell fill our nostrils, our minds racing to conclusions. Whatever this smell is coming from, it’s growing stronger. I bend down and pick up a lump of foliage from the ground. Slowly I release it from my hand, letting the wind take it as it may.

  “North wind,” I say. Suddenly it came to me. “The village!”

  Immediately we all set off in a dead sprint towards the village. We all hope we would be wrong or that it would simply be a controlled fire that we are freaking out about. As we get closer, each of us realize that it’s far worse than we imagined. A thin layer of smoke covers the air making it difficult to see far distances. We weren’t running to save ourselves or to seek protection. T
his time we were running to help those who helped us. A few moments go by and soon the air is so thick with smoke you can barely see the person in front of you. We come across the final hill. As we reach the top where we were before, hiding out while Amille went down and used their phone, we can see a bright orange glow illuminating the thick cloud of smoke. The problem is the smoke is so thick, you can’t even see what’s burning. We stand there for a brief moment and look down at the fire and listen to the chaos happening below. Women, children are crying, screaming for help.

  Skinner kneels down and rests a hand on the ground. He closes his eyes and sits there in silence for a few, long moments.

  “There’s dozens of them down there,” he says.

  Amille turns and looks at me, “Tristan!” he yells.

  Immediately I know what he’s asking me to do. I take a step forward and extend my hands toward the bright orange glow. Closing my eyes, I try and focus, blocking out all the noise and chaos. The women yelling out in agony, men shouting orders, Fletcher, Skinner and Amille standing there, ready to move; all slowly fading away until its silence. I open my eyes and instantly a wall of air rushes past me, nearly pushing me over. It travels down the hill and into the village, the smoke parting in its way. Soon we are able to see down into the village and gage the situation first hand.

  In all, the two sides of the ‘U’ shaped village were up in flames; the center with the telephone pole remaining untouched. I look over to Skinner who met my eyes and he immediately knew what I was asking. He hangs his head and closes his eyes again and focuses.

  “The left!” he begins. “There’s people trapped in the left part of the houses!”

  Without hesitation, Skinner stands up and runs down towards the houses. I quickly pursue him, heading straight towards the nearest house. I run past men throwing buckets of water on their homes, straight past women on the ground crying and even a few standing there in shock. I get to the doorway of the first house and look back. Amille is running towards the center of town for some reason. I let it go and turn my focus back to the house I’m in. I take my first few steps in and look around.