Based on my research, Kuijiu is a small village almost off the map and deep in the mountains. Only by that I already knew the disaster that lay ahead, medication and healthcare facilities being among many of the problems that they must have been facing.
Driven up the hills and down the valleys, buildings gradually emerged covered with thick fog as their houses lit with lamps from a far. The surrounding was already letting out the feel of a village infested with sadness and disappointments.
Bags of corn cobs were packed in the fields to dry since it was the period of harvesting. Sacks of carrots and pale green vegetables were also among the harvests that had been collected.
This was not my average home back in the city of the United States where I was used to eating Mc Donalds, burgers at the burger king restaurant or even KFC chicken. I was in for some traditional foods and soup for God knows how how long I was to be at this place. My bagpack had mineral water, cashew nuts and a bunch of snacks thanks to Kate but it was not going to last especially I was sure to encounter little children on my way.
Kuijiu is one of the poorest places in the area, the people who live hear have done so in hardship and the most primitive conditions. Electricity is one thing you forget once you set foot here, and as for running water, huh! it is a thing of the past ever since the world war 2.
Bruises and permanent scars could be seen from their pale white skin, some from the world war and others from their hard toiling on their farms. It is remarkable how this shanty village still functions.
From their faces you could tell the amount of promises they had been told and of course the rough murram road down the hill was no exception as one of the biggest false hopes of it being reconstructed.
Slowly I walked across the village path ways unable to ask for directions because of the language barrier. I hoped yo bump into someone who was more lucid and friendly. I eventually found my way to the shelter which was right at the center of the village; this was the main hospital running for the residents of this small place.
"You must be Bradley Cooper," one of the people inside the shelter approached me, his height very short to mine and with patches of gray hair on his head and beards. His knuckles had bruises which were hardly pleasing to look at even so to offer a handshake.
"Yes Bradley Cooper in the flesh," I answered shaking his hand as my eyes assessed the room only to land my eyes on a bruised patient who was strapped tightly on the DIY stretcher bed. The room was stuffy you could choke with the aim of taking in fresh air. The room was crookedly arranged with no particular medical equipments in sight, No water drip, no x-ray machine even the supply of drinking water from a despenser was out of sight.
"How did he get bruised this badly, was he attacked!?"
"No he wasn't, we did this to him unwillingly when we tried to restrain him," the young man answered, I wasn't sure if he was young from the looks of his beards which were more than mine, but I know better, of course genes play a part in the physical features of a person.
He was the most articulate I had come across so far excluding the tourist I met earlier for directions. This was good for a start, atleast a conversation could be made.
I moved around the entire shelter and examined close to 10 individuals and all had the exact symptoms. Their eyes had turned into a mixture of dark gray and red with gray veins showing on the sides. Their bodies had broken bones and twisted joints but no tear on the upper flesh. It was as if they had become immune to death and pain. I had never seen something more terrifying before.
"When did you record the first incident," I asked as I quickly took out my tablet to record the briefing as a testimony to my superior. He licked his lips and scratched his knuckles before he begun to narrate the ordeal.
"I happened to be visiting my grandparents back in the town of Sichuan; where you are from, and when I got there, one of the children they had been taking care of had been tightly bound on a post in the fields. I could hardly get him to talk, he was a monster.....," the young man paused for a minute to recall the incidence the he continued.
"My grandmother said the child had killed all the chicken in the farm and managed to bite his younger sibling who by now is nowhere to be found. He was breathing heavily and growling like a wild animal."
"So what happened thereafter," I asked, to keep the story going and to completely exhaust whatever had happened.
"I suggested to bring him here since I am a doctor of this village," he paused again, this time his eyes had become teary and his body. language sunk in despair..... "I managed to strap him and load him at the back of my old track. Two days in the child had not had a single meal, his voice toned down and body stopped fidgeting.
We then decided to loosen the bounds on his feet and hands and tie less tight so he could eat over a bowl of soup. That was when our downfall begun, we had underestimated its strength.
All I remember hearing was the cracking of wrists as he broke free and pounced on one person, right there they all died, and in a matter of seconds he had transformed and went ahead to bite another and another and another; it was horrifying to look, some of them were my right hand men of this village."