Chapter 3: Later that day, on August 15th

The jeep came to a stop at the checkpoint. Sergeant Thomas was starring down an armed pickup truck with a couple of men armed with rifles. He recognized them as LURD rebels or Liberians United for Reconciliation and Democracy. He arrived at the very edge of the city limits of Monrovia. The men were blocking various people that were trying to get out. The very act was dangerous for some as they risked getting shot or killed for those who weren’t already. With the temporary cease-fire, however, many were trying to use the opportunity to get out. The act itself meant that Thomas had to wait his turn for the checkpoint to finally approach him.

“Are you trying to leave too, white man?” The rebel looked at Thomas as he sported an AK-47 in his hands. He said this with a man that was perched on a pickup truck with a machine gun mount on the back as he wore sunglasses.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Where are you heading to?”

“I am heading to Yekepa on the other side of Liberia.”

The man with an AK-47 looked at Thomas with a stern look. Thomas took a good look at the surroundings and could already see a dead body not far from the truck. It looked like the body had been there for a couple of days. He was already used to seeing dead amongst the way as the shelling from the artillery was hitting random areas in the city. With the cease-fire, there was a bit of a sigh of relief obviously from the population.

“Why are you heading to Yekepa?” the guard asked him.

“I have been hired by LAMCO to go and survey the iron mines in Yekepa and check on its status.”

The guard went and turned around as he walked up the machine gunner to discuss his words. Thomas went and took a look at the other members in front. One of the five soldiers appeared to be young, very young like he was the age of ten as he sported an assault rifle.

Thomas himself was shocked to see a child a member of the army. He knew it is true. Pro-Taylor forces and Anti-Taylor forces were using child soldiers. The reports he heard even suggested worse of what happened to these kids. It was a crime what they were doing, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

The child was looking around as Thomas looked back at the two that were talking.

“Alright, you may go. Beyond this point, however, you are on your own. There will be more of us along the path. Once you get beyond Kakata and Gbarnga, you will encounter war factions that change their allegiances continuously. You are traveling on your own risk.”

Thomas then saw the man go near the truck and took a can of brown paint. He then pulled out a paintbrush and dipped it into the paint can. He then slapped a line of brown paint on the hood of his jeep with a wet paintbrush before he put the can back down. Thomas noted that many of the LURD soldiers wore these brown shirts that often even said “LURD” on them as a way to identify themselves from one another. The brown paint was a way to let everyone know that he was allowed to pass the checkpoint and that anyone could see the line drawn on his jeep so that he was not a foe from a distance.

“Move along,” he signaled to Thomas. Without hesitation, he stepped on the gas pedal as he reached near the city limits of Monrovia. He remarked as he saw many more soldiers parked along the side of the road. Some men, women, and even kids were all armed with various weapons. All of them watched him as his jeep drove past them.

“Such a beautiful place, yet the countryside is being torn apart,” he said to himself. “My lie worked.”

From what Thomas knew, Yekepa was initially a paradise on the other side of Liberia. Liberia was known for some exports, and one was Iron. An iron deposit was found by Nimba Mountains, and a joint venture corporation of American, Swedish, and Liberian was established there. Prior to Samuel Doe and the Tulbert Administration, it was a bit out of nowhere, and a community was established. White people and the native population cohabitated relatively peacefully, or at least what he knew of, of course. He could have been wrong on that. The first civil war destroyed all that. Most of the population left, and those that remained fought each other or plundered the area. The morning operations ceased by the end. Now it is just a shell of a town.

The irony was that by telling them where he was going, it was easier to convince them that he was just a member of LAMCO coming to check the area. On the other hand, they probably thought he was nuts to check the region, especially with a war going on.

He took a look at his surroundings behind him in his rearview mirror as he drove. Liberia and its neighboring nation Sierra Leone were being torn apart by the ravaging wars. It was only until last year that Sierra Leone ended its war and joined in the fight to end the war in Liberia. The dreaded concept of blood diamonds originated in areas such as Sierra Leone, and Liberia was becoming a haven for it as well. Driving by individuals that walked by the roads was a common occurrence for him. Monrovia was the most populated city in Liberia. Named after the fifth President of the United States, it had more people in one city than all the other towns of Liberia combined. If you controlled Monrovia, you controlled Liberia. It was plain and simple as that. Liberia was also one of the poorest nations in Africa and the world when it came to wealth. The civil war did not help any in the situation.

The nation was so poor they were barely able to afford to pave their own roads. They did manage to get a railway established from Yekepa to the city of Buchanan southeast of Monrovia. However, that has been shut down due to the war. He shook his head. He could have used those trains to get to Yekepa instead of this if that would have been the case.

Thomas relaxed as he drove about forty miles per hour down the road. He remarked on the green forests and occasional buildings and people around him. Kola trees, Bombex trees, Oil Palms, Liberia’s forests were beautiful even under the heavy heat. It rained often, and the location of Liberia almost put itself deep within the forests of West Africa. The orange dirt road was a clear indication that you were now driving out in the country once you left the capital. With only so many vehicles around him, it was apparent he stood out a little bit to the onlookers.

“First part of the hurdle has been passed,” he said to himself. “Many, many more to go. If I am uninterrupted, then I should make it in a few hours, but anything can happen from that point.” His heart was beating hard as he kept his mind focused on his driving. “I still have to ask myself why I am doing this? I still feel like I am drawn to this place though like I am being called to here. I just wish I knew why. I am risking my life for most likely nothing, but it does not shake those feelings away. I must find out why.”

As he drove, he would see dead bodies by the road. Others simply walked by the bodies, while others would occasionally strip the bodies for anything of value. Some bodies were mutilated by however killed them.

The wind would hit his dark hair as he drove. He noted that they have not even been able to take care of their dead. People were trying to take care of themselves and just survive. There was so little infrastructure and resources. If people were shot and killed, they were simply dumped into buildings to eventually be taken care of later. He hoped that people wouldn’t get used to this sort of thing, or it would have been a true sign that the world was falling apart.

He drove by a body that was stripped naked and on the road. The body’s chest had markings that it was cut down the center.

“The Cannibals’ War...” he said to himself out loud again. “I have only heard stories of where I was briefed. Ancient traditions and the necessity of survival, and even the lack of food have combined into a wicked form of practice. Some tradition here believed that taking the entrails, to a person’s heart, to their blood of another person, before a battle would make you immune to the bullets when you charged into battle. I believe Charles Taylor will take most of the blame, but I have heard all sides engaged in such practices. I need to be careful. If I make a mistake, I could literally be on someone’s menu.”

Thomas shook his head as he focused on his driving. Even the thought that he was in a land where such practices were engaged could shake most people to the core. However, his mission was most important. He was drawn to this place. Almost as if someone was calling him to come to this place. He put his hand to his forehead as his other hand was on the steering wheel. The constant hum of the engine as the jeep moved allowed him to wander in his thoughts as he continually went back and forth trying to figure out his reasons for doing such a thing as this mission.

Suddenly a small clearing opened up in the forest as the road led by an open field with what looked like a plantation. There was no one around this large house, and it sat there like some largely abandoned castle. It was two stories tall as the grass had claimed most of the landscape. It had been left for some time. All he had to do was turn his jeep in.

Almost like a magnet, the building seemed to call him to a stop and check it out like he was some tourist. His mind was being drawn to this place. He could not explain his actions as he pulled the jeep over and got as far as he could in the lawn before he had to stop and turn off the engine. He took his pistol and holstered it as he stepped on the long-grown grass. He stepped on what appeared to be an overgrown, neglected path that led into the building itself. The plantation building was large as that of a small mansion. There was no activity, nothing.