Afterlife: Reincarnation

26

WARNING: GRAPHIC SCENES

June 17

LANE

No one spoke. Everyone seemed distracted, each of us staring in different directions, all trapped within our own thoughts. Tension was thick in the air, and from the moment we had pulled out of the camp, it only seemed to heighten the longer we drove.

We followed the military personnel towards the village that had been rampaged by militia. They had no count on the number of dead, no information on the wounded other than 'there were too many to count'. We had no idea what we were walking in to, other than it was a living nightmare.

The backs of the jeeps were filled with supplies. Like I said, we had no idea what we were walking in to, therefore in turn we had no indication on what to bring or what we would need. Apparently in cases such as this, the general rule of thumb was to bring a little bit of everything.

The sun was angled low in the sky, casting an eerie red glow over the lands in front of us. It was as if the sky was running red with the bloodshed of the day ending, spilling it onto the earth the closer we got to the site. It was a horrible thought, but one that I just couldn't seem to push from my mind.

I was tense and uncertain, but somehow resolved. This was what I had come for. I had been warned, over and over, of the realities of this country. Especially this region. Now, I would see first hand the impact of human natures own destructive power struggle against itself. I wasn't sure if I was ready for it or not.

The trees began to thicken, growing closer together, leaving the barren open lands behind us. It felt as if they were closing in on us, converging over us, rather than the sheltering protection I usually equated with such landscapes.

Everything about this night seemed ominous.

I felt the jeeps begin to slow, turning my eyes from their outward cast of the passing land and trees at my side to face front. In the distance, I could make out what I thought to be huts, built similar to those I had seen in the village where we had delivered the baby weeks before. Mud, sticks and simplicity. Made with what was available, basic and humble. But what else stood out on the horizon, was the billowing smoke rising. It was white, thin and light, and I remembered my father telling me years before that that usually meant the fire itself was out. That where was nothing left to ignite.

Our approach was slow, cautious, before we finally stopped along a bank of other military vehicles, all of us filing out and clustering together to await information. The moment we emerged, several men in fatigues stepped up towards us quickly.

I couldn't see much of the site, as it seemed blocked from view by countless military vehicles. But there was one sense that was all too keen. Hearing. I could hear the crying, the screaming. I couldn't understand their words, but I didn't need to.

They were calling for help.

"You're the doctors?" one man said, his skin so dark it was as if he were made of night. His eyes were heavy, tired and weary with the gravity of the situation, and he spoke in a clear but heavily accented English.

Will stepped forward, addressing the other man. I couldn't hear them well, those of us with NG keeping a noticeable step back from the medical team, who approached closer to get a handle on what was to come. I felt the weight of anticipation, of uncertainty heavy on my chest, mixing in with the smell of smoke and death in the air.