Jack's Diary - Bloody War - Day 59

            I look back on history and wonder what a nation’s reaction was when they realized they started a war. In war, there are no winners and losers when it comes to sides; the winners are those who go home alive and the losers are the ones who die as a result of the war, a war begun with a conflict that didn’t start with them and a cause that was either noble enough to die for or urgent enough for the leaders to force them to die for it. I can go on and on about war and I haven’t been the first to say this. War is fruitless when we can compromise and debate the problem before us. Of course, when it’s a war between hundreds of armed men vs. six, one injured, one could say it’s not war, just a few lose ends to tie up… the exception is us.

            Right now, I’m driving down a dirt road, having just turned off the highway. Today, we brought Julie to the Valor’s base. It was just as intimidating up close as it was from a distance. The area around the base wall had a smaller wall of sandbags, the front of the bags being covered in barbed wire. There were machine guns mounted on the rooftop edges and (perhaps I’m imaging things) what appeared to be a rail gun or turret. There was also a tall fenced in area where many of the vehicles were stored. They were seriously armed and well defended though it did not look like a place for kids.

            At the gate, Mike announced that we had the package. Three guys let us in and were going to escort Julie inside when Mike asked to see some of the other kids as proof that their intentions were good (smart). They brought them out and not a single kid looked happy. I wanted to take them aside and ask them some questions, but the men seemed adamant that they get back inside the base as soon as Mike saw them. With as much as was wrong with this situation, reacting right now wouldn’t have been smart. We could sneak into the base later and find out what was really going on, but this wasn’t really necessary. As we were walking away, one of the guys whispered something under his breath that alluded to pedophilia. Before anyone else could say anything, Mike took out his Uzi and killed the three men (not smart). In that moment, Mike had started war and there was no time to apologize or debate over the issue. Mike told me to get a nearby black van hotwired (for someone who hasn’t hotwired that often, I think I did it in record time). We almost made it out of range from the base when they opened fire and hit Mike. I drove for nearly 10 minutes and no one seemed to follow us or at least they hadn’t caught up. Their vehicle set up within the fence wouldn’t allow them to just drive off on an impulse. Mike was bleeding profusely and was barely still awake. He wanted me to go to the last base we were at, which was suicide. I’m sure they knew very well what they were going to do with Julie. Besides, they wouldn’t hesitate to hand us over to save themselves. Also, I have no idea where to go. We didn’t travel by highway the last half of the trip and Mike was not in his right mind to be giving specific directions or orders for that matter. I turned down a dirt road leading off the highway. It was a one-way road surrounded by trees that led to an old house. I parked the van behind it, hitting a stray soulless in the process. I proceeded to get out and punch the back of the van over and over again. In this situation, I think I was entitled to a short temper tantrum: We’re in a war with an army of men and Mike’s seriously injured with no one around that can save him, but the same people who shot him. They no doubt have medical supplies and people who know how to use them inside that fortress. Jess opened up the van door and stepped.

            “Jack, stop it!” she said grabbing my arm before I could punch the van again. It had numerous dents, splashed with blood from my bloody knuckles. I pulled my arm away and started walking around the van.

            “This is the one of the worst outcomes that could’ve happened. I knew from the start that something was wrong with this job and that’s why I came along in the first place!”

            “We can’t be wasting time. We need to get Mike some help.”

            “Help? Where exactly are we going to find help?”

            “Mike said to go to the other base.”

            “I don’t know where that base. We didn’t take a direct route here, remember? And do you really think they’d help us. That they would even try if they found what Mike did?  We’d be better off throwing him to a pack of rabid wolves,” I said loudly. I was beginning to sound hysterical.

            “So what? Are you just going to give up?”

            “No! I just need some time to think!”

            Jess shut up for a minute or two until everyone else came out of the van.

            Victor spoke up next, “I know we’re not surgeons, but we could probably remove the bullet ourselves.”

            “That’s risky. He was shot in the abdomen. Some of his organs may have been ripped and punctured. Sewing up a wound on a limb is easy. Organs, however, require much more care, or else they’ll get infected and Mike would die.”

            Only one plan came to mind. It was completely nuts and risky, but at this point, we didn’t have much of a choice: we could either let Mike die and go home or try it.

            “I may have a plan. If it works, we may be able to save Mike and get some revenge, but I need to know whether or not you’re willing to put your life on the line.”

            Everyone agreed except for Brian.

            “Too bad Brian. You’re coming with us and if you even try and escape, I’ll kill you myself. If you do help us though, we’ll allow you to leave. Got it?”

            Brian grudgingly agreed. I took about 10 minutes to explain the plan before we drove off back toward the Valor’s base. I wrote a little message for Mike and gave it to Victor, telling him to make sure that when they drop him off that he has it with him. Jess was driving while Victor, Brian, and I had the windows rolled down ready to shoot. I expected that they’d try and come after us. What I didn’t expect was to find them behind us (They must have circled around after they passed the dirt road). There were three vehicles after us: a jeep, an SUV covered in armor and spikes, and a red mustang (nice car). The first gunshots took us by surprise. They pierced the back of the van, a bullet striking Ann in the leg. I had never shot from a moving vehicle so it took about three shots to hit the driver in the jeep. It went off the road, as did the SUV when Victor and Brian shot out the wheels. While we focused on the other vehicles, the mustang drove up beside our backend and the driver started slamming his car into the side of the van to make us crash. Just then, Jess swerved hard to the left to avoid to vehicles heading toward us in the opposite direction. The red mustang was run off the side of the road down a hillside trying to avoid collision. The last two wasted no time in turning around and pursuing us (late arrivals). Both vehicles were small armored cars and they were fast. There was at least a 100-yard gap between us when they had completely stopped and yet, they caught up in less than 10 seconds. We shot out the front tires, but it didn’t stop them. One car went on each side of us and rammed us back and forth like we were the ball in Pong. They were playing with us. I almost fell out when they did this. We fired at the glass with no success. These cars were bullet proof and powerful. Finally, I told Jess to slam on the breaks and hang on. When the van stopped I took out the Uzi Mike had used previously and tried to shoot out the back tires, though only hitting one on each car. The cars turned around and came back at us with near perfection in driving skills. Jess turned around and we ended in in the same situation as we were before; the cars using us for a game volleyball, only this time, they began shooting at us. I told the guys to use more powerful guns. Victor picked up a rifle while I decided to use a shotgun and surprisingly, it pierced the window shield and killed the driver, making the car slowed decelerate until starting scraping against the guard rail. Victor had similar success so we were safe for now. I told Jess to turn around so I could get the drive the other car. I thought it would come in handy and it did.

            I’ll reveal each part of the plan as I’m writing. Once we reached the base, we did some surveillance and, of course, there were guards outside this time. Just as I thought there would be. I drove the armored car up to the base and the guards, recognizing it as one of their vehicles, let me without even questioning me. (This was a lot better than my original plan, believe me). I unlocked the fence that led to the parking lot with the keys I acquired from the dead driver. There were men waiting for me at the entrance. I took Mike out of the back of the car and rushed over to the entrance (I covered his face dirt and blood so they might not recognize him).

            I handed them Mike, “Can you take him to get fixed up? He’s barely alive.”

            The guy checked his pulse and looked at his wounds. “Man, you’re not kidding! What the hell happened to him?”

            “We went after the guys who killed the three near the gate. They shot him and he went off the road and crushed.”

            The guy handed Mike off to a nearby one and told him to go.

            “Where are the others?”

            “They’re dead. They were a lot more skilled than we thought.”

            “You got to be kidding?! All of them?!”

            “You can take a look for yourself. I wasn’t originally driving in that car. The shot through the window and killed him. It was the only one still intact or not over a hill.”

            “Did you at least kill the guys you were after?”

            “I didn’t personally, but the guy driving the car identical to this one drove them and himself over the hill. I checked on both the van and car. They were all dead.”

            “At least they’re dead. It’s a shame really. The boss isn’t going to like this.”

            “Not too much we can do. If you don’t mind, I’m going to go comb the blood out of my hair.”

            The guy laughed and let me by.

            For as well stocked and clean as this place was, it was boring and depressing on the inside. The attack wasn’t going to happen until I gave the signal and we needed to wait about two or three hours until Mike was taken care of. In the meantime, I took a tour and found where they were keeping the kids. They kept them; both boys and girls, in a giant room with bunk beds and every so often, a guy would come, pick a kid, and take him into a room. I don’t know what happens in there, but whenever they came back out, the kid’s clothes were more wrinkled, the kid had a distant look on his or her face, and the guy would walk away as if nothing happened.

            After about an hour of walking around, I knew where everything was in the building (food, guns, ammo, explosives, some of which I pocketed), including Mike who, according to an assistant working with the surgeons, was pretty sure he going to pull through. It would be another two hours before the surgery was finished. I couldn’t just hang around in the base for another three hours; it would look suspicious and it would get boring so I decided to take action. Going up to one of the top floors, I entered each room and systematically, but quietly, kill everyone. I asked to come to talk or to pretend like I had something important to say then I’d slice their throats and shove them out of sight: closets, under beds, bathtubs, and in the draw of a clothes closet (tight fit). I must of killed 40 people before my cover was almost blown. One guy yelled which brought another guy in and a guy that saw that guy enter the room was followed by another; it was like a badly written sitcom playing out. In the end, I managed to kill 124 people (that’s right, I counted) before someone took notice. During that time, I actually began to detest killing. In the past, I took some happiness from each person I killed, as if I was better than them. Their lives didn’t matter to me; my friend’s lives barely matter to me. Usually, shoot someone, I don't check to make sure their dead unless I suspect they aren't. Stabbing is a different story. After every time I slashed or stabbed a person in the throat, I stood over them, looking into their eyes to make sure they died. Image doing that a hundred times. Image seeing the horror on their faces as they realized they were dying, as they reached up to me in desparation for help and I did nothing. Of the 124, most of them were men. The men sometimes had "friends" over. In each and every single room, mementoes and pictures were displayed on shelves and walls, depicting a happier time. Things have changed since then. Everyone has changed and now I keep wondering if there may have been good in the people I killed that day. 

            By the time the base became aware of the dead bodies, an hour and a half had already passed so I headed up toward the roof. On the floor two levels down from the roof, I saw a familiar sight; a fire alarm. I must a passed these multiple times during all that killing. My original plan was to head up to the roof and signal everyone to make loud noises to draw anyone out of the building so I could use the machine gun turret on the roof to kill them, but the plans changed and they might change again. If the fire alarm worked, I could've pulled it and nearly everyone still alive would exit the building. Of course, there was no electricity anymore. That's when inspiration struck me in the form of arson. I went through the rooms and found plenty of alcohol. I poured it all over one of the beds and set it on fire. I then waited a few seconds before going down to warn everyone. The plan worked. Not only that, but all the suspicion about the dead bodies (even as they found more of them) was put to the side as people knocked on doors trying to evacuate everyone. Two men went up to the room with fire extinguisher to try and put it out. I intervened (connect the dots).

            By the time I reached the roof, mostly everyone was out. People were running back in and coming out with supplies and piling them up. I didn't see mike or the kids. It was time for the signal. I threw one of my grenades into the air and shot it, exploding it in mid-air. The van was lined up with the base entrance down the hill from it. When she heard the signal, Julie wedged a thick piece of wood between the seat and accelerator. She stayed in to make sure it stayed on course before jumping and rolling out. The van ran over a few of the Valors, ricocheted off the right side of gate, and crashed through the entrance, blocking it off. Now, the only way in or out is through the side door of the building. Also, the signal wasn't just for Julie. As soon as they heard the explosion, Brian, Jess and Ann exited the trunk of the car I drove in (it was a tight squeeze). Brian and Jess shot whoever tried to get out through the side. As soon as gunfire filled my ears, I jumped on the turret, and started firing at on the ground. There must had been hundreds and hundreds of people down below. A great deal of them fired and I just narrowly dodged certain death. Everyone was either running away, heading toward the vehicles (which Jess and Brian made sure no one would touch), or shooting back at me. I ducked behind the turrets and fired mostly by instinct and luck (I didn't do too bad of a job). Anyone who ran south from the base had the misfortune of meeting Victor and Julie. They were both instructed to shoot and/or throw grenades at whoever or whatever moved. The turret ran out of ammo so I shot the few remaining determined men. The situation was getting hot (literally with the fire one floor below) so I tied the rope I brought with me off to the turret and slowly propelled my way down the right side of the building passed the burning floors. It seems I didn't get all the men because I was fired at, hit in the leg and nearly fell to my death. I held on and I ended up swinging myself to the front of the building, where the rope shifted, suddenly making me fall 5 feet before I crashed through a window on the fourth floor. My left arm had an extremely deep cut (it was so deep that I could I could see my bone through the thin membrane of muscle still covering it. It was the worst pain I had ever experienced. Still, I pushed onward. I made in to the surgery room only to find it devoid of anyone, including Mike. The surgeons could have taken Mike with them or maybe he woke up and read the notes. Either way, my mission was done. There was nothing more I could do in my condition. I went to where the children were being held to make sure they didn't burn alive and guess who I found already there; Mike. He had already gotten them all out and backed as well. He took one look at me and said, "you look like shit!"

            "You don't look so good yourself!" I added. 

            I showed Mike and the kids the way out. Mike stilled wasn't completely healed and things were getting pretty blurring with all the loss of blood so I was glad when we didn't run into anyone. 

            We made it outside and met Brian, Jess, and Ann. The ground was covered in bleeding bodies and I could still hear gunshots going off in the distance.

            "Thanks Brian. You're free to go if you want, but before you do, could you help out Victor? It sounds like he still has a few loose ends to tie."

            "Sure," he said, macho-ly walking off. Sure seems like he had fun. Some of the older kids took guns off the dead bodies and follow Brian (I was in no condition to stop them). 

            "Hey, what are you doing?" Mike asked.

            They said they were going to help. mike didn't like the idea. 

            "Mike, just let them. I'm sure they can't do any harm to us or themselves."

            So the older ones followed Brian while the younger ones just kicked and peed on the corpses (I'm sure they had it coming). When Ann saw my arm, she was shocked.

            "Ohhhh! Here, let me help you," she said pulling me down to the ground and holding out a first aid kit. 

            "Wait. What're you doing?"

            "I'm going to fix your arm."

            "You don't know anything about first aid."

            "Yes I do. How do you think I took care of my wound?"

            Her leg was covered with a bandage and she seemed to walk just fine on it.

            "Fine." I was too tired to argue.

            Mike told Jess to help him get some more stuff out of the base before it burned down, mainly gasoline. After about a half hour long gunfight, Brian, Victor, Julie, and the kids came back, apparently victorious. Victor was limping back (I guess things didn't go as smoothly as I hoped). For the most part, we were successful. Mike is better and we saved the kids.

            From here on out, Mike took charge. All of the remaining vehicles were packed with the all the supplies and people it could carry. Brian and Jess patrolled the area to make sure there were soulless and that no one was ready to ambush us. There were a few gun shots.

            Ann finished up with my arm. It felt so weird afterward. It wasn't long before we were leaving the toppled kingdom. The older kids (who I'm not sure had ever drove a car before) were driving with Mike in the lead car giving directions. I don't know what car I'm in. All I've been doing is writing and looking at this paper since I got in. I just wonder if it was really worth killing all those people to save just one life? We freed the kids, I know, but there must have been another way. A more peaceful way. We are victorious, but in the end, we are still human. We are losers. I'm done writing and I want to go to sleep. It feels like someone's touch my left arm, but there's no one near me except Ann...

- Jack's Diary