Chapter 1

Cameroon

London > Lasham > Yaounde

It was a slow journey to the south, Central London and the surrounding

luxury that is the M25 was unsurprisingly crawling with frustrated stationary

people in their flashy fast cars. As I inched closer to my destination, the

distorted metropolis in my peripheral vision slowly faded out to nothing, just

miles of empty space.

The unenthused voice of my sat-nav ordered me to take the slip road away

from the motorway and head in to the unknown roads of the country side. To

be honest, it was a nice change from the typically grey views of the City, but

unfortunately I was only passing through.

I found it hard to believe that somewhere amongst all the fields and livestock

was an airport. Lasham could only really be described as a hamlet. It was a

tiny place with few houses and one old pub. But somehow tucked away out

of site was a high security airpot for private and military flights?

I lumbered my bags out of the car and marched towards the front entrance

of the airpot, Almost immediately I noticed there were familiar faces from my

past line of line of work. Dotted about the waiting room We all knew the drill,

it was no coincidence that we were all here together but we refrained from

acting surprised and kept our heads down.

21st April 2042, 08:13.am. GMT

I grabbed my boarding pass and made my way towards the plane, As

expected my palms became moist with anxiety, my heart beat was like a

sped up record and my insides, well lets not get in to that.

As expected the plane felt claustrophobic and the air was as dry as a bone.

Like sardines we all crammed in to the tiny space we were allocated for the

next twelve hours. On the plus side I got the pleasure of having the fucking

wing seat. I couldn’t think of anything more Perfect for man scared to death

of flying with a high blood pressure and I suppose if flying wasn’t quite bad

enough, I now had to spend the duration of the flight glaring at the wings in

anticipation of fuckers falling off.

No one likes a recliner.

Calming my nerves with Duty free.In-Flight Entertainment.Making friends with Gordon.

“ Ladies and gentlemen, as we start our descent, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. Please turn off all electronic devices until we are safely parked at the gate. Thank you.”

21st April 2042, 18:21. GMT21st April 2042, 18:21. GMT

Flying at 30,000 feet over the ocean has left me a spluttering drunkard mess.

The understated ‘minor’ turbulance announced by the pilot seemed like

the ideal excuse to drink like a tramp in the winter. As the seat belt lights

illuminated we began our gradual decent towards Yaounde airpot.

My Anxiety levels syncronised and lowered in unison with planes altitude,

With a great deal of effort I managed to stagger my way off the plain. A crowd

of emotionally drained passengers slowly paced them selves towards the

baggage claim. I was beggining to suffer from over doing it with the duty free

whisky I had been over indulging , it had left me exhausted and brain-dead.

Remembering what my bags looked like would prove to be a real challenge.

There is my lift...

I was greeted outside the humid airport by one of the Hilton Concierge

drivers. He took my bags from me and placed them in the trunk of his car. We

were a fair distance from the hotel and the heat made it hard to keep my eyes

open. I think it must have been the overwhelming sense of curiosity about my

whereabouts that kept me awake. It was a surreal feeling seeing an African

city lit up at night. The sky line was littered with blurred neon lights and

Large advertisements. Crowds of tourists flocked from bar to bar. Apart from

the extreme difference in climate, it was hard to ignore how westernised the

city of Yaounde had become.

21st April 2042, 18:41. GMT

Apparantly this journey takes 10 minutes

Sometimes I forget where I am.

I Managed to grab a snap from the cab window.

From the outside, the hotel was grand, a building that dominated the skyline

and the surrounding areas. The passengers on board my flight slowly began to

emerge from taxis parked out side the entrance, Hotel porters loaded up their

trolleys with luggage and carried it away out of sight. I drifted towards the

entrance of the hotel, the air conditioning made it much cooler and bareable

than outside, As I strolled towards the hotel lobby I was greeted by the jazz

playing of the lobby pianist which acted only as a lullaby to my dosile head.

21st April 2042, 19:10. GMT

Everyone must already be at the bar.

My hotel room was a comfortable modest size, I unpacked my things

from my suitcase and took my shoes off for the first time in about 24

hours. On the bed was a note, the details of 3rd world development

program’s conference this evening down in the main conference

room. I decided to set the alarm on my phone for quarter to nine and

catch a few hours sleep to brush off the drunkenness, from here on

out I was going to need to be more alert. Africa had changed drasticly

over the past 30 years, phsyically anyway, along with the Western

political influences that ensured the struggle for independance and

freedom.

21st April 2042, 19:10. GMT

zzz.

I woke with a blaring alarm clock in my face, God forbid if ever had fire in my

house, nothing of any importance ever seems to wake me up. My head felt

like it had been smashed with a paving slab and my clothes were clammy

with sweat, I splashed some water over my face and grabbed a gum before

i made my way downstairs. I wanted to catch the gist of the lecture I had

missed from the other guests at the bar downstairs. After all, they’d done the

hardwork for me by sifting through all of the bullshit and bravado of these

propagandistic confrences.

There was an unnerving feeling in the air when i left my hotel room, I

appreciated that it was late but there was no noise of any kind or other guests

walking around the corridors. As i made my way down stairs I was stopped

in tracks, Overwhelmed at the horrors that surrounded me. Walls of the first

floor were smeared with blood and torn apart from what I can only assume

were bullet holes. My hangover and the fear of what I was about to see next

made me feel extremely Nauseous. I’d seen some pretty graphic things in my

life but nothing that would equate to what I saw next...

21st April 2042, 22:15. GMT

James ‘Wally’ Burrage1998 - 2042

Who would have thought it, drinking saved my life.

The room had been cleared out, No bodies just a blood stained floor and

the aftermath caused from the attack. Almost immediately after taking the

photograph I was greeted by two large security guards pointing loaded

machine guns at my face. There was a moment of uncertainty between the

two men, the looked at each other then back at me. They said nothing but

implied with the motion of their guns that I was to follow them. Security had

the place surrounded, ambulances waited out side as the distorted bodies of

my colleagues were being carried out on stretchers, I was walking through

a war zone. One of the men pointed towards a stationary Land-rover parked

outside the main entrance. The men helped me climb in to back and threw

me a blanket to conceal my self from the view of others. I had no idea where

I was heading and to my knowledge the driver spoke no english or it was

just as likely that he was ordered to keep his mouth shut. The city of Yaounde

slowly faded in to the darkness of night and the tarmac gradually exchanged

itself for earth.

21st April 2042, 22:43. GMT

To be continued.