Killing Dreams: The Bunian Conspiracy, #2

Killing Dreams

The Bunian Conspiracy, Volume 2

Aammton Alias

Published by M Content Creations, 2019.

Killing Dreams

The Bunian Conspiracy Series

Book 2

Day 5 to Day 7

Dr. Aammton Alias

M Content Creations

Copyright © 2019 by Aammton Alias

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

M Content Creations

www.b1percent.com

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

The Killing Dreams:

The Bunian Conspiracy series

Book 2

Dr Aammton Alias—1st ed.

ISBN: 9781393325390

eBook version

To The Brave And The Realised,

Whose Sacrifice Can Never Be Measured.

Acknowledgements

My loving wife and my daughter continue to go beyond inspiring me to complete this novel series - which was initially a NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) challenge. They gave me continuous feedback and encouragement to complete my book, even when they would prefer that I stop and spend time with them by the beach.

Many thanks to my good friends: Dr Jawad K, Ms Adrina Agus Din and Dr Adam who allowed me to relentlessly bounce ideas and forward my 'freshly baked' chapters direct to their mobile phones, with no regards to the unsocial hours in anticipation of their immediate and nurturing feedback.

I could not have written this book without having learnt a lot more about life and the ‘inner life’ from my mentor and friend ‘Bob’, for which I am eternally grateful.

I also thank my former patients and clinic colleagues in Tutong for sharing so many insights and hidden stories about their lives and their community that made this novel series possible.

Welcome To My Universe

Thank you for picking up this book. This is the next chapter from the original novel – The Last Bastion of Ingei: Imminent. The entire series has been renamed as The Bunian Conspiracy.

This novel series has been inspired by a series of events including the disappearance of an army soldier in Labi. He was missing for 23 days. The Search and Rescue mission had stopped after day 14. He was found underneath a wooden stilted house in a deep rural Tutong village. He thought he was missing for months. He claimed to have been stuck in a village, in another dimension – the Bunian world.

I would recommend reading the previously mentioned first book, which has sections Day 1 to Day 4. This book Killing Dreams is Day 5 to Day 7.

I have written using multi-first-person accounts for reasons you will appreciate as you read the other books. I assure you that the novel series is a massive universe and will blow your mind as you delve further into it.

"There is no you, me or them.

We are one and the same."

CONTENTS

Sarin: Gemat

Sarin: Reunion

Sarin: Papas

Sarin: Debt

Sarin: Extra

Sarin: Memories

Selym: Council

Adib: JPTDP

Tajau: Society

Sarin: Flies

Sarin: Kabal

Rahman: Lima

Azan: Refugees

Azan: Unity

Azan: Laila

Azan: Reflection

Azan: Umbut

Azan: Unholy

Rahman: Talisman

Sarin: Fire

Azilah: Sybil

Nurul: Sakit

Adib: Help

Manis: Plan

John: Smarter

Adib: Lake

John: Feeling

Adib: Diamonds

John: Blast

My Other Books

5th

December

CHAPTER 65

Sarin: Gemat

5th December

Location: Air Force Base Bravo One

Boots. Five pairs. We sit tightly in the metal black bird as it hovers above the ground, loud vibrations shaking the cage, but not our cores. It is a routine now for the 5th Recon Unit - ‘The Prowling Tigers’. An air crewman in the cabin with his over-sized green helmet nods and thumbs up the pilot and then starts to close the doors of this Sikorsky S-70A ‘Black Hawk’ helicopter. I look at the different faces of the team, snort and spit out the most vile and viscous of phlegm through the helicopter door, watching it land on to the landing pad below. The air crewman looks at me, but my cold stare stops him from making comments.

He wouldn’t understand. The unspoken rituals that us warrior men must make to ensure the safety of the troops we lead. Every man here has his own ritual: things that need to be done to dispel bad luck and ensure safe passage. 

Sergeant Menawan; a smooth-faced tracker, sits in front of me. He is grinning with no apparent purpose whilst fiddling with a black string tied around his left wrist, a talisman to ward away evil spirits. I do my best not to look at it. He is from the ‘Dusun’ indigenous tribe, a pagan whose family still practises the dark arts of shamanism. I press my hand onto my own chest, feeling the outline of my own silver talisman. Protect me from the unseen evil.

The Black Hawk helicopter soars into the air, and we fly over patches of sporadic and unchecked urban development, orange and white houses below like mosaic pieces, crisscrossed by never-ending black asphalt roads. A battle to claim as much of the green and turn them into illusions of the dream called progress.

Lance Corporal Azim is sound asleep whilst another, Corporal Jagau - our heavy weapons specialist, seems at ease reading a book.

What’s the dumb book you’re reading? I shout out to Jagau, the helicopter blades chopping and thundering through the air, making me barely audible. If only they gave us onboard radio sets. I hate budget cuts.

Jagau shows me the cover Be the One Percent: Unlock Secrets to True Success, Real Wealth & Ultimate Happiness and gets back to reading. I smile away, hiding my concerns for this soldier. Pep talk perhaps later or a career counsellor. Private Kilau, on the other hand, is happily listening to his music via his earphones. He smiles at me. Kilau is always smiling and cheerful, no matter what his situation. I reminisce the time I heard about his women troubles, especially when his wife rammed her car to his car when she saw him with his secret girlfriend. I often wondered how he got his wife to accept him back. Perhaps the secret is to smile away our troubles. 

15 minutes later, I can see through the helicopter window the houses are no more, it’s all green and trees all around. Another 30 minutes before we land. I close my eyes and recollect the conversation earlier with the commander of the base.

SARIN, THIS IS DATO Kassim. I shake hands with the elder but confident man, lowering my shoulders slightly to show my respect for this man of great stature. His title Dato is like being knighted by the Queen, except it is not the Queen of England that ‘knights’ him.

I could not help from noticing his sparkling diamond encrusted platinum ring, square with a dozen smaller twinkling diamonds in formation. He must be a businessman too.

I have been informed that my daughter Dr. Nurul Kassim has disappeared in the Ingei jungle. Something terrible has happened to the expedition team, Dato Kassim pushes the rims of his designer sunshades. Real men take off their sunshades when they talk to other people. It is disrespectful not to do so, no matter his stature.

There are already soldiers from the Third Battalion encamped there, Dato Kassim’s index finger is in mid-air and half-pointing towards me, But I need the best. Please, Captain Sarin. Lead your team and find her. She means the world to me.  I turn to the Commander, who nods in acknowledgment.

Prepare your team and meet at Hangar J in 30 minutes. You will be briefed there.

Yes, Tuan Sir. I salute the Commander, and then he dismisses me.

Captain Sarin, bring her home safely and I will make sure that you and your men will be taken care of as a sign of my gratitude.

Don’t forget me too, I hear the Commander laugh as I close the door behind me.

Ingei. Why? Is this the same thing that happened with my old Unit?

THE SUDDEN JERKING of the helicopter interrupts my thoughts as we are thrown by unforgiving wind. I look out and see dark overcast clouds.

I tap the on-board communication system, Pilot, how soon are we landing?

We can’t land at the LZ. The winds came up out of nowhere and its pushing us against the landing zone.

Land us safely, pilot. It was more of a prayer than an order.

That’s always the plan, Captain Sarin.

The helicopter tilts 45 degrees on its side, as it goes around its original landing approach. Through the window, I see the tall rainforest trees almost touching the helicopter. Of course, this is a mere illusion, the helicopter is not that near. I wonder why the pilot can’t just land vertically, since this is a helicopter and then remember the landscape and the tall leaning trees, which can sway uncontrollably in strong winds. There’s only one way to land this helicopter. I grip the side of the hard ABS seat as I realise another more dramatic way for this helicopter to land: a crash. No, we won’t crash.  The pilot is very experienced.

The Black Hawk helicopter completes the circular approach and levels out. I look ahead and through the windshield in front. I see the clearing, the landing site. Let’s land safe.

A white shadow of a giant hand of rain water and wind pushes the helicopter back and the helicopter loses altitude, drops down as I feel my stomach content float half way up my throat.

Did I see a large hand push the helicopter? Can’t be.

The helicopter rocks backwards unsteadily, and before we fall further with this metal black bird, the pilot surges power into the helicopter blades. The Black Hawk responds, and we soar up and backwards to safety.

Sergeant Menawan curses, Looks like the Bunian spirits don’t want us to be here. He leans forward and to our shock, he pulls the helicopter door open and shouts into the wind a familiar Dusun spell to ward away evil spirits. Water splatters into the helicopter as the air crewman closes the door, avoiding eye contact with Menawan. Too scared to look for confrontation with a mad Ranger.

The helicopter tilts 45 degrees on its side, trying the same approach again. Third time lucky, I pray. As we level out again to the same landing zone, Menawan pulls the helicopter door again, and shouts out unimaginable expletives into the wind. Wet thick leaves blow into the helicopter cabin, swirling inside covering our eyes and slapping our faces.

OOI BUNIANS, I WILL SLAP YOUR FACES WITH MY BLOODY UNDERWEAR IF YOU DON’T LET US LAND! Menawan screams maniacally. Everyone stares at Menawan in disbelief. What the hell is he on?

As though in response, the wind and the rain abruptly stops, allowing the helicopter to land onto the grassy clearing more forcefully than expected. I grab my gear and jump out of the Black Hawk helicopter as my men follow suit. In the corner of my eye, I see the pilot giving the eye at Menawan, as the air crewman sweeps the leaves from the cabin with his feet, his own expletives inaudible with the thunderous sound of the helicopter blades.

Hunching down, my men and I run across the moving sea of tall grass to safety along the tree line ahead. The helicopter soars back into the air. We are now on our own.

Welcome back to Ingei, Captain. Sergeant Menawan taps me on the shoulder. What does he know about my past? Does he know about what happened to the First Recon Unit? I grit my teeth to stop myself from asking that same question that has been bothering me for the past year: why was I the only survivor? I fight the thoughts silently with all my might. I am now a leader. Everything else must be set aside.

With our full gear, we march to our rendezvous point nearby. I can sense we are being intently watched. On one occasion, I could see tall shadows lurking in between the gargantuan jungle trees. I assure myself that the shadows of the jungle are mere observers, or at least that is what I hope for. I focus on the task at hand, which is to reach the forward base camp. We are to meet up with the army regulars, a platoon from the Third Battalion army. I am expecting to see my former Captain. He wasn’t just a former captain. He was my former mentor, my former saviour, which is no other than the former Captain Roslan. The Cursed Captain.

I have a feeling he will tell us a different story about the killings of the Ingei expedition team.

CHAPTER 66

Sarin: Reunion

5TH DECEMBER

Location: Kilo Zero Nine Base Camp,

Ingei Jungle, Bumi

The forward base camp, designated Kilo Zero Nine is essentially a large clearing in the jungle surrounded by rather wide-trunk giant trees. I had only expected one platoon encamped there but it is more than just an encampment. There are a number of platoons present now, all from the Third Battalion Army. Someone has surely pulling strings to create a good presence here.  A soldier salutes and provides me updates as my men and I are led towards his commanding officer, Colonel Falkon.

Captain sir, have you ever met Colonel Falkon? the private asks me.

No. I’ve never had the pleasure but, I have heard stories about him.

We enter a make-shift digital-camo green army tent, where wallboards have been set up inside along with a high-tech military encryption radio communication equipment. Several soldiers are setting up photos and maps, whilst others are writing on white boards. There is a portable table with several sealed brown envelopes on it. 

Captain Sarin and the Prowling Tigers. Welcome to my domain! Colonel Falkon gestures with his arms out. He is a tall man with a