Adrenalin Rush by Reeder Steve

Author:Reeder, Steve [Reeder, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Readthis Publishing (Pty) Ltd
Published: 2012-03-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Where the bloody hell was I?

The old fort lay bathed in moonlight, and I studied it properly for the first time. It was small and seemed to be built of adobe; in other words sun-dried bricks of mud and straw. I thought about who would have built such a fort. The Mexicans of course, but I was fairly sure I was not on the North American continent if only because smuggling an unconscious man into the USA or Mexico would prove very difficult.

The French had built many such forts across North Africa during their conquest of Algeria and surrounding African counties. I knew this mainly because Hollywood had made so many “Foreign Legion” films. Some of them were even worth watching. Northern Africa would make more sense what with the Arab connection. I was pretty sure the British had built no such structures although my history was weak on this subject.

OK then. French North Africa. I felt better for knowing, but it didn’t help any at this stage. I looked about, left, right and behind me: nothing but desert sand as far as the eye could see. No road either and that was discouraging.

I decided to circle the fort and see what I could find, knowing all the while I was just delaying going back inside.

Keeping thirty yards out from the wall, I trekked warily around the old stronghold. I found no other building, no vehicles and no signs of humanity let alone civilisation.

All too soon I arrived back at the gates. The body lay where it had been twenty minutes earlier, the empty gun still pointing to where I had been when it had last fired. I stepped around the corpse, eyeing him superstitiously: it was that type of night. Needless to say he didn’t move.

First things first. Find out where I was and work out how to get away from here. Preferably to an airport with connecting flights back to Britain. I’d worry about how I was going to buy a ticket later. Secondly, food. Realising that I was extremely hungry I headed for the mess hall first, giving Meany a wide berth. I didn’t like him any more now that he was dead than I had when he had been alive.

The mess was almost entirely empty but for a lingering smell of gunfire, fear and sweat. My footsteps echoed around the empty cavern.

It took me a while to spot the kitchen door on the far side. I kicked a dozen M16 cartridges aside as I hurried across the hall. A small table containing the remains of an interrupted meal stood alone in the centre of the room. I stopped and examined the dead man’s dinner. The plate contained a heaping of curry and rice along with a vegetable I couldn’t identify. A chunk of greyish bread lay alongside the plate. Several flies buzzed angrily, annoyed at my interrupting them. I decided to check out the pantry.

The kitchen proved to be stocked with a variety of canned foods as well as loaves of bread and, in the paraffin-powered fridge there was milk and cheese.

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