Chapter 26

As we got to our feet, I took stock of my inventory and noticed that everything was still there.

JAMES TO ADMIN CHAT: Diondre, you see what just happened?

DIONDRE: Not really, I actually took my goggless off when I realized what was about to happen. I may be your assistant for the next week, but I ain’t stupid.

JAMES: Well… that makes sense. How are you seeing this though?

DIONDRE: I gave it about five minutes, then put my glasses back on.

I could have sworn I ‘felt’ Diondre shrug here.

DIONDRE: Anyways, while I didn’t see what happened, while you were blind and screaming I took a small break. I could hear Trainee Adam’s assistant practically yelling for him to stop. What’d he end up doing?

JAMES: Looks like he looted all our weapons and bolted. Any idea why?

DIONDRE: No idea, I’ll send a message in the assistant chat and see what I can come up with.

JAMES: Assistant chat?

DIONDRE: Yeah, we can message one another on the same side; helps if you guys ask a question we don’t know an answer to.

As I returned my attention to my inventory, I spoke up, “So we lost our weapons, but I have those two spare M-4’s I looted. Who wants one?”

Slampa shook his head, “I still have the pistol, pass it off to Miller.”

I handed her the extra M-4, along with transferring half my rounds to her. I was sitting at 20/240 ammo, which was still quite a bit. I wondered what Adams was going to do with those weapons, I doubt the sergeant had much more ammo than the other guys.

“So what now?” Miller asked, scratching the right side of her head under the bright blue turban she wore.

Slampa and I frowned, both lost in thought. There must be a reason he took the weapons and bailed.

Finally Slampa spoke up, clearing his throat. “Well, maybe we can find clues of where they went. I asked Rex, and he said Adam’s assistant won’t give any information on his location, seems like Adam’s expressly asked him not to say anything. So looks like its up to us to find out where he went.”

I nodded. This was so strange. He had to know that we were a part of his team, he had plenty of time to inspect us, and he didn’t kill us. He must be up to something. Looking at Slampa, “Yeah, I agree. Lets take a look around.”

Miller, Slampa, and I started looking around. The dirt was a mess from where we were rolling around on the ground after the flash bang, but upon close inspection two sets of tracks stood out. Where the recon team and our team entered the clearing from the West, TJ’s team was defending from the east. All our foot prints came in from that direction, but for some reason after looting our weapons, there were signs of someone leaving toward the North.

That being our only clue, we agreed as a group to start walking that direction. None of us were hunters, so we quickly lost the ability to track them - but if we kept heading this way we should see something of note.

We walked, and walked some more. Occasionally we would take a break, checking to see if our assistants had gotten any new information before resuming. We left the forests behind, beginning across the broken scrubland I was in before. Up and over hills we walked, and hours passed.

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Eventually I had to ask the obvious question, “How long have we been in here?” Trudging slowly behind Slampa just in front of me. Miller took up the rear of our line, occasionally looking behind us to see if anyone was coming.

“About seven hours. We entered at around 0800, and its now passing 1500 in the real world. I asked my assistant about twenty minutes ago, and he said he’ll give me hourly updates. After 12 hours inside we get logged out wherever you are at.” Slampa said, matter of factly.

I nodded, keeping pace behind him. “So we have about five hours left… and have barely made any headway here.”

I could see his head bob up and down in agreement, “Yeah. We lost time with that fight, and now… this.” He did a wide gesture in the direction we were walking. “I hope we find something soon, my feet are killing me.”

We were still wearing the combat boots from our fatigues; we noticed that the footwear of these ISIS fighters didn’t seem to me made for vigorous use. Plus, we had grown used to them after over five weeks of wearing them. However, we weren’t used to walking for hours in them, and our toes were cramping up. Why did this damn place have to be so damn realistic, even down to the footwear.

Suddenly Slampa stopped as he crested a ridge in front of me. I pulled up next to him, with Miller right behind us, poking her head between where we stood.

At the foot of the large, craggy hill we stood upon was a small village. It couldn’t have been more than a mile by a mile in total, with several buildings sprawling out. We could see several adults walking around the premises, and a handful of children running and playing in the middle.

As we looked in awe at the sight, Miller spoke up first. “Why does this feel so… lifelike? Also, why would there be a small village here, near a warzone?”

“You need to realize this is how it really was. These people didn’t choose to be in a warzone, the warzone came to them.” I said sadly, looking down the hill.

Miller nodded solemnly, “Well, maybe they have seen Adam’s and his partner. Might as well go down there.”

We started picking our way down the hillside, one step at a time.

As we neared the village, one of the adults - a male with long flowing black hair, and a large beard with white down the middle, raised his hand and yelled “Salaam Alaikum!”

This caused us to pause, looking at one another.

“Uh… do you guys know what that means?” I asked.

Kimberly piped in, “My assistants name is Safia, her parents are both Afghani and I guess this is their language. She says that means ‘hello’, she said she can interpret for us as needed.”

I nodded, taking a step forward, trying my best to mimic what the gentleman said. I raised my hand in greeting as well, Sa… Salaam Alikum?”

The gentleman grinned at me, repeating the phrase in syllables, like speaking to a child “Sa-laam Al-ai-kum!”

“Sa-laam Al-ai-kum!” I repeated back, mimicking him.

He clapped his hands, laughing jovially. “Very good! Hello and welcome my friends!”

I paused, smiling but unsure what was going on. “You… speak english?”

He nodded vigorously, “Yes, yes, of course! Many of us learn English at a young age. You Americans have the best television, have you ever watched Friends?”

I continued smiling, shaking my head. “I… can’t say I have.”

He looked aghast, “Oh my! You really must. Most popular show in America, eh?”

“Er… I’ll make sure I watch it when I get home. How did you know we were American…?” I asked hesitantly.

He began walking towards us, smiling widely once again. I noted that several of the children had noticed us at this point, and were crowding over near some kind of vehicle. I realized how different the cars back in this time looked; much more bubbly, with rubber tires, and bulky features. What must have been a bed for the vehicle, to carry the village I assumed, seemed to be made out of scrap wood and wire. It looked like if anyone drove the thing it would fall apart.

I returned my attention to the gentleman, and as he neared me I realized he was much younger than I assumed - maybe in his mid 20’s like myself. The white streak in his beard was weird for someone so young, but he had clear, dark skin, and glittering eyes full of intelligence. If he had shaved he would probably be considered handsome, though the beard gave him an aged, wizened look.

“My name is Sami, it is a pleasure to meet you.” He reached out with his right hand, which I took, shaking it firmly.

“My name is James, and this is Zachary and Kimberly.” They both nodded in greeting, remaining silent.

“Well James, Zachary, and Kimberly, its easy to tell your American - I mean, we afghanis don’t have blonde hair and pale skin, after all!” He gestured at Kimberly, who looked embarrassed. “Welcome to our small village, we do not have much, but what we have we are willing to share with guests!”

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