3
Gordon started sprinting towards the back door. Leaving his suitcase behind and having his backpack fling around on his shoulder with each sprinting step. Gordon ducked down into a crevasse under the stairs that was in front of the back door. As the plane engines grew louder Gordon could hear the air raid sirens start to sound. Its iconic sound alerted the rest of city and Gordon could start to hear the firing of anti aircraft guns in the distance. In between all of this, Gordon heard Anubis barking in the backyard. Not thinking for a second about the planes Gordon dashed towards the back door and quickly pushed it open. He saw Anubis 15 meters away barking at loud images passing by in the sky. Gordon shouted his name over and over but to no avail, the sirens and anti aircraft guns blocked him out. When the first bomb dropped near the front door Gordon felt the shock wave hit his back along with pieces of concrete. At that moment Gordon had locked eyes with Anubis who had turned at the sound of the explosion. The last image Gordon saw was Anubis running towards him.
Gordon awoke to feel a great pressure on his back. His eye lids opened to the sight of rubble in front of his face. Gordon pushed himself off the floor and to his knees causing the rubble on top of him to fall to the floor. As he strained to stand he collapsed back to his knees, almost blacking out. Gordon tilted his head down and waited for his blood to reach his brain again before moving once more. His whole body was in pain. Gordon checked his body, looking for injuries he might not have noticed, noticing only small scratches but no major injuries Gordon felt lucky, his hideaway under the stairs probably saved his life. Gordon took this time to re-asses his situation. He looked around. Gordon’s backyard was now nothing but toppled trees surrounding a large crater. Trees now charred and broken and pieces of brick and concrete all around. Gordon saw no sign of Anubis, it did not take him long to realize, his companion was dead.
Gordon tried to stand again and now took his time and started to walk slowly outside into what was the backyard. The door now nonexistent and instead just a frame in the fractured wall, Gordon stepped outside. In the distance the high rise building were smoking, some were standing others had toppled during the bombings. Gordon looked around to the left and right and saw smoke and demolished buildings. The smoke, dust and ash from these buildings did not let him see beyond several meters in some directions and so he turned to re-enter the house. When Gordon entered what was the kitchen, he only felt what could be described as the feeling of a passing miracle. The noon sun blasted down on him as the roof above the kitchen had caved in. Most of the walls had been destroyed and now Gordon walked over the tarnished rubble of his destroyed house. The only things left intact were the 5 steps that he had hid under, the refrigerator and 2 walls near the back door, Gordon stepped over the large pieces of his house to continue to what was the front door and its steps outside.
Now standing where he had left his suitcase Gordon saw that the steps were gone and that there was another crater on the road in front of his house, Gordon noticed burned pieces of clothing and obliterated tin cans rustling in the humid breeze. Across the street Gordon made out what was perhaps left of his suitcase and the rest of its contents, all of which were now useless, Gordon was happy he still had his backpack on him. On this ledge in front of his house, Gordon could look again at the sea; he saw no more buildings obstructing his view. Where there had been charred houses and a port, all there was, was smoke and large piles of materials. Jumping down off the ledge Gordon walked to where the walls of his house were, he turned around and looked at its remains.
Checking his backpack for holes and its contents, Gordon was relieved nothing was missing. He readjusted the straps to loosen the tightening pain and started to walk west to the main road of the small coastal city. Walking for 15 minutes through his old neighborhood Gordon saw almost nothing had survived. The few buildings that did stand were heavily damaged and were missing at least 1 section of a wall. There were few people. Evacuations had started 2 days ago and many people had been able to leave, or at least Gordon thought so. But nobody bothered to evacuate those who were poor. The Indian and Pakistani construction workers who now lay dead in their portable housing next to what was a house under construction were left to fend for themselves. As Gordon walked past them and brutalized machinery he saw an Asian man in a blue construction uniform walking amongst the dead, looking through their pockets like a vulture feasting off a battlefield and he had spotted Gordon.
Looking directly at Gordon He got up and withdrew the pocket knife in his hand and he started to walk forward towards Gordon with haste. Gordon pulled out the 12 inch blade and shouted “Don’t you fucking think about it!” with that gesture the man put his hands up and started running in the other direction. That knife was one that even Rambo would praise; it’s been in the family for 6 year now, what family? Gordon sighed as he sheathed the knife and into the deep back pocket of Gordon’s baggy grey jeans and he continued west.
Now on the main road walking towards the center of the city Gordon could really see the destruction. Most of the small buildings had been destroyed and some of the larger buildings as well. Some of the midsized buildings were not though, since they seemed to have some kind of anti aircraft guns on top of them. Now an hour away from his house, Gordon could see the old mud fort, and to his surprise it still stood, stood like it had all these years. It had survived the British, the Portuguese, rival tribes but will it now survive Iranand the USA? On top of this fort flew the city’s local flag, its pure blue color almost blended in with the sky. Gordon wondered if the Iranian bombers intentionally missed the fort or not. Opposite the Fort was a long road, this road used to have the cinema, some shopping centers and car distributors. All gone now. Just piles of rubble next to small destroyed walls. There was nobody on the streets, just Gordon. No military, no civilians, no animals and no vehicles. They all must be in the center or evacuated.
Looking at his cracked watch Gordon saw the time was 2:30 pm. Gordon walked through the devastated city and peered at the remains of planes. On the wing of one he saw the Iranian flag, on another the United States flag. Seeing the casualties of war tore his mind. You always hear about it but you never see it. And now there it was in front of Gordon. Gordon, dazed by a pounding headache and the realities of war he walked by the remains of more bodies, some of which were not whole any longer. In war, Gordon acknowledged, they are the lucky ones, no longer having to live with the mistakes of those who control and manage this world. In the end you see bodies, not flags, not ideals, not religion. Just human bodies lying next to each other. Gordon wondered if they would still want to fight for their country if they had the chance to re-do their actions knowing they would die today.
Nearing the center of the city, the roads were blocked, not only by hills of rubble but by armed soldiers. It was obvious that the center of the city was the staging point for the military forces in the city. Realizing that continuing forward would be a call to death Gordon turned around and retraced his steps for a while. Walking at a slow pace in the summer heat it was now 5 PM. He had walked away from the city center and started to walk along the road to his old school and eventually to the nearest civilian airport. The local airport was under military rule now and Gordon knew he would find no help there. Walking out of the city the roads were only slightly covered with debris but the roads themselves were not damaged. It seemed like the bombers concentrated on the city itself. By 6 PM due to Gordon’s slow pace and continuing headache he had only just passed the parameter of the airport which was guarded again by soldiers. They looked at Gordon through their gun sights without saying a word and only lowered their guns when Gordon was at a far distance from them. Gordon scoffed to himself thinking that this was his home and now he was perceived as a threat.
The sun had begun to set, it was nearly 7 PM and Gordon was exhausted. In his ignorance he forgot to pack water in his backpack and so instead used his knife to open one the can of peaches he had packed and quickly drank its juice. On the top it said that it had expired yesterday but Gordon felt willing to take his chances and ate the peaches. When he had finished he walked for a few more meters to find a suitable place to sleep. It was near the road but not on it. It was in the campus of the slightly modern looking local college. Gordon did not want to miss the chance of a passing vehicle that he might be able to hitch a ride on but he did not feel like being run over by it either.
It was now almost dark, and now the only light had come from the full moon. The military had started a blackout to reduce chances of being spotted during a night raid. Gordon strained to see the time on his watch it was nearly 9 PM. After this he had laid down, using is bulky backpack as a pillow on a patch of grass. Repositioning the knife in his back pocket and placing it to his left with its case unbuttoned. Before Gordon realized how tired he was he fell asleep.
Gordon was awoken by the sound of a passing truck. He lifted his head and saw that it was entering the campus grounds. Gordon quickly picked up the knife and stood up. The truck’s white lights reflected off of his body and shone brightly off of the knife as well. With a screeching stop the truck halted just after the gate. Two men immediately jumped out the front doors and pointed their rifles at Gordon through their open windows; one of them shouted in English “Put down the fucking knife!” The other immediately shouted what Gordon thought was the equivalent in Arabic. Gordon quickly complied and dropped his knife, it almost landed on his foot but he dared not make a sudden move for fear of being shot.
In the blinding truck lights he could only hear one man shout in English “do you speak English!?” Gordon heard the other translate that into Arabic “enta tetkalam englaisy?” Gordon shouted back “yes!” He saw one figure move in front of the truck’s lights. He inaudibly spoke to his partner and then spoke in a slow but raised voice to Gordon “do not make any sudden moves or you will be shot.” Gordon had no problem following that order. As he moved closer he could see that the man was still aiming his rifle towards Gordon. As he treaded even closer Gordon saw his foot solider like figure come into focus. Big man, big muscles, big gun, not somebody you would like you get in a brawl with. When only 5 meters away from Gordon, Gordon could now see some of his features; the man was black and from the accent sounded American too, with a crew cut hair style, all the while not releasing his aiming gaze at Gordon.
“Let me see some identification.” The man said. Gordon motioned to his backpack and the military man suddenly raised his rifle and tensed his finger alarming Gordon “Don’t! Kick it over here.” Gordon lightly pushed the bag over with his leg to under the soldier’s oversized body. He moved his head half way across his right shoulder, never leaving his left eye off Gordon. He shouted to his partner “watch my back” he lowered the gun slowly, and picked up the bag.
He rummaged through it and fished out Gordon’s polish passport. ‘Gordon Scarovo?” he asked and looked at the picture to verify the image with Gordon’s face. Gordon nodded and replied ‘yes’.
“This passport is out of date, you know. There are no more national passports like this in Europe.” Gordon nodded again. The man continued “we cannot take you with us, we are the last truck of American and Canadian citizens leaving this area, the last European truck leaves tomorrow, I suggest you walk back to the city and wait there.” He tossed the bag over to me and started to slowly walk away. Gordon spoke out and said “I am Canadian.”
The soldier froze in his tracks and said “show me some real identification this time.” Gordon pushed his bag over to him again with his foot. ‘Check my bag again’. The solider picked up Gordon’s backpack again and found the Canadian passport. He took out a scanning device and scanned the RFID (Radio frequency Identification) chip inside the passport. He validated it and put the passport back in the bag and walked towards Gordon. “Walk towards the truck.”
He stepped on Gordon’s knife just as Gordon started to slowly go for it. He made a tuting sound and said “you better leave this with me until we get to Dubai.” Gordon nodded, rose and started to walk to the truck with his bag on his shoulder. He had picked up Gordon’s knife and placed it in his pocket the solider shouted past me to his partner “lower your gun, this one is Canadian.” He complied and hung the gun around his shoulder on its strap. As Gordon neared the truck he saw that his partner looked Arabic but was wearing the Canadian army uniform. He had black hair that was straight but with volume that stuck to his fore head, his face had distinct Arabic characteristics but he was very slim for a foot soldier. Gordon questioned him saying “I didn’t know Canada was in UAE. What are you guys doing here?” he responded saying
“Canada is here to evacuate its citizens and to provide the USAwith some support. I enlisted to provide the Canadians with some help with the Arabic language, otherwise the Americans would go shooting every one they found.” He shot a glace to his partner and smiled. He offered his hand and spoke “Private First Class Ahmed Aziz”. Gordon shook his hand and told him his name.
The African American man looked at Gordon and announced “I’m Sergeant Jackson, like I said we are the last transport for the America’s and we have got to get moving, get on in the back.” As they disbanded, Gordon walked round to the back of the green army truck with Aziz. Aziz unlocked the truck’s back flap and said “hop on.” When Gordon looked in the truck he saw 6 people. 4 adults in their mid 30s and 1 elderly man hugging a young girl clinging on to a ginger cat. Gordon climbed on board and Aziz locked the truck’s flap. When he closed the front door the truck had suddenly come back to life and with a slight cough it started to reverse and then drove westward, away from the small coastal city and its pristine beaches.
By:Oscar Krol
