Chapter 32
Rashid woke with a start, in the small two-man tent, dripping with sweat in the sweltering heat. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, his ears were assaulted by the raucous sound of a billion bugs whose endless cacophony rose and fell in random waves. Sometimes winding down to near silence before starting up again.
He had to take a leak, and pushed himself up off his bedroll. His tent-mate grunted and rolled over as Rashid duck-walked out of the tent’s opening, stopping to refasten the tent’s flaps and netting in a futile attempt to keep even more bugs from getting in. He stood, stretched, and looked around. Several orderly rows of tents filled the large clearing, a single campfire occupied the center of the clearing.
Rashid was a low-ranking member of the IAR, the Indonesian Army Regulars. He, along with a company of about 110 men, had been followed by a small band of renegade primates that had engaged them in numerous skirmishes over the past week, harassing the men with bolder and bolder assaults, and then blending back into the forest. The loose confederation of chimps, apes and orangutans were playing a demoralizing game of cat and mouse that was driving the company and their commanders to the point of despair.
Rahid was new to soldiering. He’d joined the Army, partly for the paycheck, something he hadn’t received yet, and the regular meals. His induction consisted of a brief signing ceremony, a long pledge, followed by the doling out of a regular uniform; boots; socks; a weapon; a couple of clips worth of ammo; a tent and a backpack. After three weeks of training and a two-day pass, he was now in the middle of Sumatran rainforest, getting pelted from above with rocks, coconuts, and substantial gobs of shit, but he hadn’t even caught a glimpse of the rascals; hadn’t fired a single round.
The abuse had taken its toll until out of frustration and against orders, one of the men had fired an entire clip into the deep green forest canopy above them and a single great ape came crashing through the branches and slammed into the ground at their feet. The men erupted into jubilant cheering, and the harassment had ceased for the last two days.
He’d left his weapon in the tent, so he stood, stretched and scanned the camp to get his bearings. The campfire was no more than a faint smudge of glowing coals in between the two central rows of tents. As his pupils dilated further, he made his way toward the silhouettes of various large trees at the edge of the clearing.
Finding trees in the dark was easy, finding his way back to his own tent was much more challenging, a lesson he had learned early on. He intended to make his way straight to the nearest, largest tree he could see, relieve himself, and then return straight back the way he had come.
He trudged carefully across the uneven forest floor and was already unzipping his fly as he approached the tree line. A large arboreal trunk loomed in front and above him as he leaned backward slightly. The sound of his own pee splashed briefly against the tree trunk and then prattled off of large leaves scattered around its’ base. As the pressure on his bladder began to decrease, he reached out his left arm and leaned against the tree’s massive trunk. As the personal stream of water diminished to a trickle, it was then that he noticed the absence of sound. An eerie silence had descended on the forest around him, around all of them. He cocked his head and listened, and then shoved his privates back in his pants and yanked the zipper closed. The sound of the zipper sounded loud in the silence. He stood completely still, listening for some sort of sound: A bug, a cricket, a frog, anything! Maybe he should shout out a warning, but of what?
A twig snapped somewhere close. He spun around and flattened his back against the trunk of the tree. His eyes, now fully adjusted to the night, could just about make out the entire camp, its jumble of tents, packs, crates and supplies: but no guards. Where were the guards? He hadn’t noticed their absence earlier.
Another twig snapped: right beside him.
He turned his head to find himself face to face with a large male orangutan. His only reaction was to gape wide-eyed at the beast as it reached out with its left hand and grasped him by the front of his shirt; twisting and bunching a massive handful of material and pulling upward, forcing him to stand on the balls of his feet. The ape held a large, club-sized hunk of tree branch in his other hand, and held it out to one side, waving it ominously. Rashid blinked a couple of times and then distinctly shook his head. He raised his arms and grasped the orangutan’s wrist with his two hands: gently, pleadingly. He was no match for the 250-pound primate, and they both knew it. The ape’s advantage was indisputable.
The ape frowned at him, and then looked him up and down. Suddenly, another ape appeared, and then another and another. They flowed out of the woods, dozens upon dozens of primates of all shapes and sizes. A few paused to stare at him before moving on, out into the clearing, in and among the tents. They moved through the clearing with amazing grace and speed; weaving in, out and between the clutter of tents and equipment in a sublime display of synchronized chaos. Within moments, the unnatural silence erupted into a scene of muffled mayhem. The clearing filled with the sounds of grunting, groaning, thrashing and snarling.
Rashid’s eyes grew wide with terror, his grip tightened on the orangutan’s wrists and he started to squirm and wiggle. The ape lifted him another inch and then pinned him hard against the tree and shook his head: a terse, enigmatic warning that extinguished Rashid’s desire to struggle. As he ceased his wiggling, the ape allowed him to slide back down the tree until his heels touched the ground, but did not release his iron-like grip on Rashid’s shirtfront.
A gun went off, and then several more shots rang out in rapid succession. There was a great and terrible shrieking sound and then a horrible crunch, followed by another flurry of snarling and thrashing. A peculiar silence followed for about 15 seconds, and then Rashid witnessed a flow of primates streaming past him out of the clearing. They were all carrying AK-47’s. Some of them were carrying packs, ammo boxes and other things, like machetes and rations. A tent had fallen into the fire and the coals ignited its canvas cover. As the flames leaped higher, two large ape-like creatures came out of the clearing, dragging and carrying a badly injured chimp. They hissed at Rashid as they passed. Behind them, another orangutan came out of the smoke and dust, and stopped next to Rashid’s captor. He shook his head sadly, then with quick tense motions, said something in sign language and then glared at Rashid with raw hatred; then he too was gone into the night, leaving Rashid alone with his adversary. The ape gazed at him for what seemed like an eternity.
Rashid tried to swallow, but his throat was constricted, and dry as a bone. The ape released his grip on his shirt with his left hand, and with his right, he placed the club on Rashid’s left shoulder, pushing him gently but firmly to the ground, until he was kneeling in his own urine. The smell of it mingled with the smoke, and fear and sweat. Rashid bowed his head and closed his eyes, a gentle sob escaped his lips as he awaited his execution. A loud bash erupted from the tree above him, showering him with flakes and bits of bark. He dared to open his eyes and saw the ape standing above him, gazing at him with a calculating look. Was he going to let him live? The ape dropped the club on the ground near Rashid’s knees, and without looking back, slipped into the darkness between the trees and was gone.
He had to take a leak, and pushed himself up off his bedroll. His tent-mate grunted and rolled over as Rashid duck-walked out of the tent’s opening, stopping to refasten the tent’s flaps and netting in a futile attempt to keep even more bugs from getting in. He stood, stretched, and looked around. Several orderly rows of tents filled the large clearing, a single campfire occupied the center of the clearing.
Rashid was a low-ranking member of the IAR, the Indonesian Army Regulars. He, along with a company of about 110 men, had been followed by a small band of renegade primates that had engaged them in numerous skirmishes over the past week, harassing the men with bolder and bolder assaults, and then blending back into the forest. The loose confederation of chimps, apes and orangutans were playing a demoralizing game of cat and mouse that was driving the company and their commanders to the point of despair.
Rahid was new to soldiering. He’d joined the Army, partly for the paycheck, something he hadn’t received yet, and the regular meals. His induction consisted of a brief signing ceremony, a long pledge, followed by the doling out of a regular uniform; boots; socks; a weapon; a couple of clips worth of ammo; a tent and a backpack. After three weeks of training and a two-day pass, he was now in the middle of Sumatran rainforest, getting pelted from above with rocks, coconuts, and substantial gobs of shit, but he hadn’t even caught a glimpse of the rascals; hadn’t fired a single round.
The abuse had taken its toll until out of frustration and against orders, one of the men had fired an entire clip into the deep green forest canopy above them and a single great ape came crashing through the branches and slammed into the ground at their feet. The men erupted into jubilant cheering, and the harassment had ceased for the last two days.
He’d left his weapon in the tent, so he stood, stretched and scanned the camp to get his bearings. The campfire was no more than a faint smudge of glowing coals in between the two central rows of tents. As his pupils dilated further, he made his way toward the silhouettes of various large trees at the edge of the clearing.
Finding trees in the dark was easy, finding his way back to his own tent was much more challenging, a lesson he had learned early on. He intended to make his way straight to the nearest, largest tree he could see, relieve himself, and then return straight back the way he had come.
He trudged carefully across the uneven forest floor and was already unzipping his fly as he approached the tree line. A large arboreal trunk loomed in front and above him as he leaned backward slightly. The sound of his own pee splashed briefly against the tree trunk and then prattled off of large leaves scattered around its’ base. As the pressure on his bladder began to decrease, he reached out his left arm and leaned against the tree’s massive trunk. As the personal stream of water diminished to a trickle, it was then that he noticed the absence of sound. An eerie silence had descended on the forest around him, around all of them. He cocked his head and listened, and then shoved his privates back in his pants and yanked the zipper closed. The sound of the zipper sounded loud in the silence. He stood completely still, listening for some sort of sound: A bug, a cricket, a frog, anything! Maybe he should shout out a warning, but of what?
A twig snapped somewhere close. He spun around and flattened his back against the trunk of the tree. His eyes, now fully adjusted to the night, could just about make out the entire camp, its jumble of tents, packs, crates and supplies: but no guards. Where were the guards? He hadn’t noticed their absence earlier.
Another twig snapped: right beside him.
He turned his head to find himself face to face with a large male orangutan. His only reaction was to gape wide-eyed at the beast as it reached out with its left hand and grasped him by the front of his shirt; twisting and bunching a massive handful of material and pulling upward, forcing him to stand on the balls of his feet. The ape held a large, club-sized hunk of tree branch in his other hand, and held it out to one side, waving it ominously. Rashid blinked a couple of times and then distinctly shook his head. He raised his arms and grasped the orangutan’s wrist with his two hands: gently, pleadingly. He was no match for the 250-pound primate, and they both knew it. The ape’s advantage was indisputable.
The ape frowned at him, and then looked him up and down. Suddenly, another ape appeared, and then another and another. They flowed out of the woods, dozens upon dozens of primates of all shapes and sizes. A few paused to stare at him before moving on, out into the clearing, in and among the tents. They moved through the clearing with amazing grace and speed; weaving in, out and between the clutter of tents and equipment in a sublime display of synchronized chaos. Within moments, the unnatural silence erupted into a scene of muffled mayhem. The clearing filled with the sounds of grunting, groaning, thrashing and snarling.
Rashid’s eyes grew wide with terror, his grip tightened on the orangutan’s wrists and he started to squirm and wiggle. The ape lifted him another inch and then pinned him hard against the tree and shook his head: a terse, enigmatic warning that extinguished Rashid’s desire to struggle. As he ceased his wiggling, the ape allowed him to slide back down the tree until his heels touched the ground, but did not release his iron-like grip on Rashid’s shirtfront.
A gun went off, and then several more shots rang out in rapid succession. There was a great and terrible shrieking sound and then a horrible crunch, followed by another flurry of snarling and thrashing. A peculiar silence followed for about 15 seconds, and then Rashid witnessed a flow of primates streaming past him out of the clearing. They were all carrying AK-47’s. Some of them were carrying packs, ammo boxes and other things, like machetes and rations. A tent had fallen into the fire and the coals ignited its canvas cover. As the flames leaped higher, two large ape-like creatures came out of the clearing, dragging and carrying a badly injured chimp. They hissed at Rashid as they passed. Behind them, another orangutan came out of the smoke and dust, and stopped next to Rashid’s captor. He shook his head sadly, then with quick tense motions, said something in sign language and then glared at Rashid with raw hatred; then he too was gone into the night, leaving Rashid alone with his adversary. The ape gazed at him for what seemed like an eternity.
Rashid tried to swallow, but his throat was constricted, and dry as a bone. The ape released his grip on his shirt with his left hand, and with his right, he placed the club on Rashid’s left shoulder, pushing him gently but firmly to the ground, until he was kneeling in his own urine. The smell of it mingled with the smoke, and fear and sweat. Rashid bowed his head and closed his eyes, a gentle sob escaped his lips as he awaited his execution. A loud bash erupted from the tree above him, showering him with flakes and bits of bark. He dared to open his eyes and saw the ape standing above him, gazing at him with a calculating look. Was he going to let him live? The ape dropped the club on the ground near Rashid’s knees, and without looking back, slipped into the darkness between the trees and was gone.