Tales of the Forgotten Read Online Free PDF

Junayd’s men. They
both walked over to the Defender to greet them. Brooks put the truck in park,
and Brad and Sean got out to shake their hands goodbye. Brad saw Hasan walk out
of the guardhouse carrying a large green backpack and his AK47 slung over his
shoulder.
    “I
would like to join you,” Hasan said, dropping his pack next to the already
overloaded vehicle.
    “I
don’t know, Hasan. Nothing personal buddy, but this truck is already bursting
at the seams, and another mouth to feed splits our food supply even more,” said
Sean.
    “That
is true, friend, but I also know the area. I know the tribes. I can be useful
in finding more food. I will not be a burden to you, and four guns in the fight
is better than three,” Hasan answered. Sean looked over at Brooks, who gave
nothing more than a shrug of his shoulders.
    “What
do you think, Brad?” Sean asked.
    “It’s
his country, who am I to tell him no? The more the merrier, right?” Brad
answered with a grin.
    “Okay
then, throw your bag on the roof and get in,” Sean said to Hasan, smiling.
    They
made their way down the city streets. Occasionally, the vehicle would pass a
building and they would see a primal move out of a darkened alley or a doorway
to moan at them. The sun was just beginning to break the horizon and the
temperatures were cool, so they knew the primals would be active until at least
mid-day. They were willing to takes those chances and decided it would be an
acceptable risk, especially since they were mobile and moving at a high rate of
speed. Brooks made a few passes down side streets and one extra unnecessary
turn down a long road before cutting onto the Hairatan road. They hoped the
extra maneuvering would make it harder for the primals to follow them out of
the city.
    There
is only one way in or out of the city located on the northern border of
Afghanistan—and that is the Hairatan road. The other path to civilization would
have been through Uzbekistan to the north and over the river. With the bridge
out and the packs roaming the other side of the river, the Hairatan road was
their only option. Brooks followed the road carefully, easing the Defender onto
the cleared lane of the highway that Brad and his soldiers had opened up almost
a month earlier when they’d first entered the city.
     As
the team made its way down the highway, Brad recognized the dead bus blocking
the far lane when they passed it; he also knew that the other MRAP rested
silently in a ditch on the other side. Slowly the congestion of twisted and
broken vehicles thinned out and the road started to clear. Brooks found a
comfortable spot near the center line of the highway and eased the vehicle into
a cruising speed of forty miles per hour.
    They
drove for hours. Brad watched Brooks drive with a look of confidence as he
avoided obstacles. Brooks wasn’t an easy man to get to know; he wasn’t a social
creature like Sean. In the past, it was common for soldiers to ask others
questions about home, families, or where they were from. More recently, it was
considered taboo to talk about such things. Many soldiers like Brooks would
consume themselves with work to avoid personal feelings. Brooks was all
business, typically only showing his face when there was a job to be done. The
big man even spent his down time preparing for his up time. Brad rarely saw him
joke or slack off with the rest of the men. Today Brooks was on the clock and
held the wheel firmly, clearly aware that it was his responsibility to keep
them safe.
    Brad
began to space out watching Brooks; the hot sun and the lulling sounds of the
tires humming on the pavement caused his eyelids to become heavy. He caught
himself nodding off more than once, often waking with a start.The
Defender purred down the road, and the non-descript countryside going by in a
blur made it hard to stay awake. They curved around and away from the river
before entering the vast open terrain. Brad looked out and saw nothing but open
dunes;