Page 37 of Echoes of The Past


  ~ Island – pacific ~

   

  It was a relief for Tom and Julia when the last of the sun’s rays were swallowed up by the horizon, plunging the island into a husky twilight. Throughout the day the camp had been just as busy as the day before. Training drills had taken place with live ammunition as soldiers stalked through the underbrush, firing every few moments at invisible targets. At one point Julia watched as a boar charged across the path of the soldiers, it was only visible as a furry blur for a split second, yet before it could disappear again, it was shredded to bits, as fifteen rifles unloaded their clips at it, leaving nothing, save for a bloody carcass and misty spray of red. These were trained professionals and they knew exactly what they were doing. We will be lucky to get off this place alive, was all she could think.

  Air traffic had been busy as well. With increasing frequency, small planes came in to land on the airstrip taxiing off the main runway onto one of the smaller concrete strips. The pilot would jump out, be greeted warmly by other soldiers securing the wheels, refuelling the machines and bringing cargo that got stored under the pilot’s seat, secured by tight wires. It was obviously an extremely secret operation was and it could not bode well for whoever the enemies of this base were.

  As if a switch had been flicked the moment it got dark, everyone seemed to disappear and all building lights were switched off, leaving only the bright search lights prowling across the camp with undisguised menace.

  It was time for the two to make their first approach. The jungle offered the perfect cover for them to manoeuvre towards the road which separated them from the guards and the entrance to the prison. This was not only going to be tricky but it was also going to be extremely risky. The chances of getting caught or having the alarm raised were so high. Setting their worries aside for now, they settled down to wait for the moment just before the guard’s shift change when they’d put their plan into action.

  Julia had dozed off and was startled awake by Tom with a nudge of his elbow, and a fierce whisper.

  ‘Get ready, it’s just about time. You’ve to be quick and make sure he doesn’t notice what’s going on!’

  ‘I know don’t worry, we should be fine.’

  Tom simply grunted in response, far from convinced as he stood up, brushing leaves off his clothes and transforming into his panther shape. His lithe muscles tense, and his dark coat glistened in the moonlight that managed to squeeze its way past the canopy’s thick foliage. A small growl escaped his throat, and his eyes blazed green, contrasting with his sharp white canines that were stretched wide in a feral snarl. He was ready for the attack. He padded out of the underbrush and onto the tarmac of the road, hating the feel of it on his paws. He poised in the dark, not ten metres from the two guards. One of them shuffled his feet, while the other lit up a cigarette. The quick flare of the match as it struck the cigarette end, then the intense glow as the guard inhaled, indicated how relaxed the two were. With a grim smile to himself Tom realised that all of that was about to change.

  He grunted loudly, snuffling and shifting his weight, trying to create the sounds of a pig. The moment he made his first move, he expected the guards to snap up their rifles, completely focused on their surroundings. He was ready for that but it was a waste of energy, the cigarette ember bobbed up and down, as the guard shrugged. They weren’t bothered by just another jungle sound; it was time to switch to plan B. The guard smoking the cigarette had carelessly propped his rifle up against the wall when he lit his fag and then left it there as he smoked. Without so much as a warning, and sticking to the shadows as much as he could, Tom leapt towards the guards, snatched the weapon up in his powerful jaws and leapt away again back across the road giving the guards just enough time to follow him easily enough. Sure enough the plan worked.

  ‘Shit!’ the guard who’d lost his weapon dropped the smoke like it was a bomb and scrambled after the creature that had taken it away. He knew he’d be executed for carelessness if his superiors discovered he’d lost his gun, in the way he was about to if he didn’t get to that boar.

  He leapt into the underbrush disregarding the scratches he got from all the thorns and sharp branches, intent on only getting the gun back. The forest thinned a little bit, he paused to catch his breath, his ragged inhaling the only thing audible in the silent jungle. Something large slammed into him, knocking the air from his body. It pinned him to the ground, incredible weight aiding gravity in imprisoning him on the jungle floor. He just managed to gurgle a desperate scream that was cut short as his mouth was shoved onto leaves and dirt. It was enough though.

   The sounds of his colleague could be heard as he too struggled to fight the fern leaves and palm fronds in order to reach his friend. The pinned-down guard relaxed as he realised that he was going to be rescued, relief poured through his system, he embraced it like a junkie would the rush of his favourite drug. He was so distracted by the sound of his friend’s progress that he failed to feel the tiny click as his keys were slipped back into place as if they’d always been there. Suddenly his wait was over and there stood his partner, his face scratched and muddied, looking at him in disbelief. Looking around himself from the floor he realised how silly he must look, clutching the gun he’d gotten back. Laughter escaped the rescuers throat.

  ‘You fool.’ Shaking his head and turning back to the prison. ‘Let’s get back, our shift is almost over.’

  The guards returned to their posts and awaited the morning relief. Finally after a few hours it arrived as the dull grey of a cloud cast sky was lit up dramatically by the first bursting rays of pale light. They left in good spirits, little knowing what had happened.

   

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