Hotel Guerrilla

Wavering on the brink of annihilation, Manu awaits his fate inside Hotel Guerrilla...

A thick fog hovers over Haximu as trouble stirs on the other side of the border. Manu and his comrades are holed up. All they can do is hide and wait things out within the confines of Hotel Guerrilla.

They’re squatting in the office, stretched out on beds in the rooms, lying prone on the roof. Everyone is silent; even the wounded are too anxious to express their agony. Manu’s window is open. he listens to the wind coursing through the Amazonian forest outside. He hears thunder in the distance. He’s not sure if it’s the weather or the pummelling reports of enemy artillery. What he does know for sure is that the forces behind the rumbling are definitely not on his side.

Instinctively his mind searches for answers. How did it all come to this? Who are the ones responsible for setting the cataclysm in motion? Who pulled the strings of the authorities, that they might set their armies loose on this genocidal rampage? Who were the traitors that undermined the resistance from within and brought them to this point?

Even now in the throes of defeat he goes through the portraits of his companions in his head, trying to recall if any of them did something awry, wondering if someone said something out of place, something out of line. He also worries that the traitors might have turned Manu’s commanders against him. Maybe he is alone in the resistance. His bloodshot eyes dart toward the half-open door then back out the window; maybe the others have already switched sides in secret, leaving him behind.

At any rate, they are done for. They’re too weak in arms and numbers to put up much of a fight. The enemy will come and Manu will be wiped out.

Here comes the critical moment when his convictions are shaken to the core. He feels the room crumble around him. The walls creep in. The past submerges his conscience; he struggles to keep his head above water as he drowns in an ocean of final regrets. When he squeezes his eyes shut he sees nothing; the future doesn’t exist. The present is hell; there are no purgatories, no way out. He’s angry and restless but utterly powerless.

Then the onslaught finally begins. A few hundred feet away, a battery of mortars vomits metallic death into the air. The shells rain down on the motel and go off all at once. Tanks roll in, the terrifying death rattle of their tread carriages clattering and squeaking closer and closer. Frightened shouting flares up on the roof as the motel collapses all around them.

Manu trembles as he clutches his gun in a petrified death grip. Shadows flicker past the window outside. He hears a lone gunman come into the motel and sprint down the hallway. His breathing escalates, he doesn’t know what to do. The greater part of him wants to stay here, frozen in place like a statue of salt. He struggles with the irrational hope that he might be spared if he simply gives up and surrenders now.

But he sees the enemy dash past his room through the gap in the half-open door and that’s when it hits him. It doesn’t matter if he holds his fire or lets loose: the enemy will find him and they will destroy him. Even if it feels impotent he needs to make a move. He needs to fight his way out or die trying. It’s the only way.

Manu springs from the bed and sneaks out. His opponent has slowed down to a trot and is peeking into the rooms, unaware of Manu standing behind him. At the end of the hallway there’s a door labelled “EXIT”. If he takes out the gunman standing between him and the door Manu could then burst out of the motel and disappear into the rainforest before anyone sees him.

Hope makes a resurgence; Manu now has a plan of action. But the gunman stands in the way. Manu’s hands tremble, the pressure is sickening. So many things can go wrong; the only tools available to him is a sawed-off shotgun and a single cartridge. The enemy is still looking in the wrong direction; if Manu waits too long the opportunity will vanish.

He needs to take action quickly. The problem is there, right there, right in front of him and he needs to strike, he needs to grab it, he needs to destroy it before it destroys him.

Manu sneaks in a little closer. The belligerents are merely a few inches apart. Manu takes a good look at the gunman before him; here is just another lost, disenfranchised teenager, much like Manu. For a split second Manu feels a tinge of sadness about how two children so similar in background and appearance are destined to be such mortal enemies.

But he has no other choice. The opportunity threatens to slip away with every second he waits. So Manu aims and fires, shredding the gunman in the back. The poor b*****d never knew what hit him; he is flung onto the floor like a sack of maize.

Manu is stunned for a few seconds, no doubt because this is the first time he has killed in his life. Upon seeing the destruction of his enemy he is filled with remorse; this moment will forever haunt him. He has bought more precious time but even now the future is grim. Still, what has been put to death will allow him to keep breathing for now.

He lowers the weapon. He breathes in, breathes out. He’s alive.

Manu is alive, he’s still here. So he runs down the hallway. He breaks through the door labelled “EXIT”.

Right at that moment, the building is raked by another barrage of mortar shells…

Hotel Guerrilla is no more.

Author's Note

Who is Manu to you? How does his situation manifest itself in your lives? Can you relate to him at all?