THE DOWNFALL

Chapter 4 : Signal

The next morning, the sun rose over the fields outside the lunga. The wind was strong, rustling through the trees, making their leaves whisper as they brushed against each other. It seemed like an ordinary day but not for Jeff.

He was out in the fields, planting crops like he usually did. But his mind was far away, replaying the events from the day before. Fighter jets had passed over their area again loud, fast, and terrifying. He couldn't stop thinking about them.

Jeff paused, staring up at the sky. It was blue and cloudy, peaceful… but something about it pulled him back to the past.

He remembered being a little boy, walking down a mountain trail with his mother. His white clothes were stained with dirt, and his small hands were covered in soil and mud. He looked up at his mother’s face fair, smooth, and kind. Her long, straight black hair swayed with the breeze. But no matter how hard he tried, her face was becoming blurry in his memory.

Suddenly, he heard someone shout, “Run!”

He looked to the sky and saw three warplanes flying overhead. The sunlight hit them just right, blinding him for a second—

Then he was back in the present, still staring at the sky. He took a deep breath.

“You’re thinking deeply,” a voice said.

Jeff turned around, surprised. It was Summer, walking toward him.

“Oh, it’s you,” he said, standing up straight. “Are you okay now?”

Summer nodded silently, her eyes saying more than words. Then she noticed Jeff’s hands, covered in dirt, holding a small plant.

“Can I try that?” she asked.

Jeff looked at her, hesitating. “You might get your hands dirty.”

“It’s okay,” she smiled.

Without waiting, Summer knelt down beside him and took the plant from his hands. She started digging into the soil with her bare hands, gently creating a space for the plant. Jeff knelt beside her, watching closely, ready to help.

As she placed the plant into the hole and started covering it with soil, Jeff reached out to help and their hands touched. For a moment, they both paused.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t loud. But something unspoken passed between them.

Jeff looked at her and softly said, “This is how life is here. We plant so we can eat. Everything we grow here feeds the people.”

Summer looked back at him. “It’s amazing… Your crops feed almost a thousand people.”

Jeff gave a small nod. “You saw how many people work these fields. But before, when the plants weren’t enough, some of us had to go down to the lowlands to find food and supplies.”

Summer stood up quietly. Jeff followed, brushing the dirt off his hands.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ll show you around.”

Not far away, watching from a distance, were Gelo, Noel, and Lheri. Gelo and Noel were laughing, teasing each other as they looked at Jeff and Summer.

“I’m telling you, man, there’s something going on between those two,” Gelo said with a grin.

“They might just be friends,” Noel replied. “You know Jeff’s always been curious about the outside world. Maybe that’s why he’s interested in her.”

“Noel, Noel, Noel…” Gelo laughed, throwing an arm over his friend’s shoulder. “You really don’t know how to read people. Look at them don’t they look perfect together?”

He turned to Lheri. “Right, Lheri?”

Lheri didn’t answer. She just nodded quietly, her eyes fixed on Jeff and Summer as they walked away. Her face was still, but her eyes seemed lost

Jeff led Summer through the farmlands just outside the lunga. The path curved between neat rows of vegetables eggplants, tomatoes, beans planted in long stretches of soil. Small fruit trees lined the edges, their leaves swaying gently in the cool mountain breeze. A handmade irrigation system, built from bamboo and metal scraps, trickled water into the roots of the crops.

Beyond the farms, the view opened up to something breathtaking: rolling hills blanketed in green, with mountains stretching far into the distance. The sky above was a deep, endless blue, with streaks of white clouds slowly drifting by. From the edge of the farm, you could see the sun casting light over the valleys below quiet, untouched, and hauntingly beautiful.

Summer paused to take it all in. “Did you… build all of this?” she asked, her voice full of wonder.

Jeff nodded with quiet pride. “Yeah. Everything you see here we built it ourselves. Every tree, every path, every crop.”

“You mean… your people? The ones here in the lunga?”

“Yeah. We had to start from nothing after the war. We didn’t just build shelter… we built life.”

Summer smiled. “It’s incredible. You turned this place into something real. Something living.”

Jeff gave a small smile, but his eyes were thoughtful. “We had no other choice. We fight to survive, but we plant to live.”

He then gestured for her to follow him. They walked toward a young tamarind tree standing on a slight hill, its branches still thin, but already bearing small green fruits.

“Out of all the trees here,” Jeff said, stopping in front of it, “this one… this one means the most to me.”

He reached out and gently touched the trunk of the tamarind tree, his fingers brushing against the rough bark like it was something fragile.

Summer stepped closer. “Why this tree? What makes it special?”

Jeff didn’t answer right away. He kept his hand on the trunk, his eyes distant.

“This was the last thing I planted with my mother,” he said softly. “We planted it together, right before she died. I was just a kid. She told me it would grow strong… and that I should too.”

He looked at the tree again, his voice lower now. “Every time I look at it, I remember her face even if it’s starting to fade in my mind. This tree… it’s the only thing I have left of her.”

Summer didn’t say anything at first, just watched him with quiet respect. “She’d be proud of you, Jeff,” she whispered.

Before Jeff could respond, footsteps approached.

“Yo!” Gelo called out with a grin. He and Noel were walking up the path with Lheri trailing a few steps behind. “Looks like you two are getting close, huh?”

Jeff gave him a look, half-annoyed, half-embarrassed. “We’re just talking.”

Gelo laughed and dropped down under a nearby santol tree, patting the ground. “Come on, sit with us.”

Jeff and Summer joined them in the shade. The group sat in a circle, the breeze rustling through the trees above.

Jeff turned to Summer. “What’s it like… in the south? People say it’s safer there, since that’s where the government is.”

The others leaned in, curious. For a long time, they had all imagined the south as a place of hope far from the dangers of the occupied zones.

But Summer’s face turned serious.

“It’s not what you think,” she said. “The south… it’s worse in many ways.”

They fell silent, listening.

“There’s still war,” Summer continued. “Every day. The fighting hasn’t stopped. Armed groups roam the forests. Terrorism has spread. Bombings. Ambushes. Fear is everywhere.”

She looked at each of them, her voice tight.

“There’s barely any food. People fight over scraps. Supplies are stolen. Families disappear. And even though the government is there… it’s losing control. People are losing hope.”

Noel’s smile faded. Gelo’s playful energy died down.

Even Jeff felt a weight settle on his chest.

“But why?” Lheri asked softly. “Why is it that bad?”

“Because the enemy doesn’t care where you live,” Summer replied. “North, south, it doesn’t matter. And now… even our own people are turning on each other. Corruption. Desperation. Betrayal. Sometimes, it feels like we’re destroying ourselves faster than the enemy ever could.”

The silence after her words was heavy.

The wind picked up again, sweeping leaves across the ground. Somewhere far in the distance, a hawk cried into the open sky.

Jeff stared at the tamarind tree, his thoughts far away. The others sat quietly under the santol tree, the world around them suddenly feeling more fragile than ever.

A heavy silence hung in the air after Summer’s grim revelation. The wind rustled softly through the trees, as if mourning the truth they had just heard.

Noel spoke up, his voice quiet but curious. “But… isn’t the government strong enough to fight back? Against the invaders?”

Summer didn’t respond right away. Her gaze fell to the ground, lost in thought. “I don’t know,” she finally whispered. “I really don’t.”

Angelo leaned forward, frowning slightly. “But if the government’s too weak… then how come there are Filipino soldiers up north? We’ve been getting radio messages. There are people out there.”

Summer’s eyes narrowed with confusion. “Filipino soldiers?” she echoed, her voice uncertain.

Jeff’s expression shifted. He turned to her, puzzled. “Yeah. Why? Don’t you know about them? They’ve been sending transmissions some people say they’re from the government.”

Summer looked shaken. “That can’t be right,” she said. “There were no other Filipino troops sent to the north. Our team… we were the first.”

The four friends exchanged glances stunned, confused, uneasy. The truth hit like a cold wind: someone had been lying to them, or something had gone terribly wrong.

Without wasting another second, they hurried back into the lunga.

They descended deep into the underground base, down to the lowest level an area they rarely visited. At the end of a dimly lit corridor, they reached a reinforced steel door. This was where meetings with the leadership took place. Jeff knocked once, firmly.

Inside, they found Erning, the longtime leader of the lunga, seated at a desk surrounded by maps, reports, and old radio equipment. He looked up as they entered.

“Erning,” Jeff said, his voice tense, “we need to talk. It’s important.”

They told him everything what Summer said, what they’d heard from the soldiers, the confusion about government troops in the north. Erning listened without interrupting, his expression unreadable.

When they finished, he let out a long, deep breath. It was the kind of breath someone takes when they’ve been carrying a secret for too long.

“I was afraid this day would come,” he muttered. He stood, motioned for them to follow, and led them into a room none of them had ever entered before.

The metal door creaked open, revealing a cold, dim chamber filled with old but functioning radio equipment. Dust hung in the air. Antennas, tangled wires, and consoles lined the walls. A large metal table stood in the center, covered in old maps and frequency logs. In this room hidden below the lunga the community received long-range signals, relayed messages, and tried to stay in touch with whatever was left of the outside world.

Erning walked to a large console and pressed a button. One of the machines came to life, gears whirring and a red light blinking on. A static hum filled the room. Then, a series of distorted clicks echoed from the speakers as the dial turned slowly, searching for the right frequency.

Finally, the static gave way to something else.

“…Abort mission! I repeat, abort! We’re under attack!”

The voice crackled through the radio sharp, panicked, and familiar. It was General Matias.

“It’s an ambush fall back, fall back!”

There was a sudden clatter, the sound of a radio hitting the ground, followed by gunfire loud, rapid, and close. Then came a thunderous explosion. Screams. More gunfire. Then silence. The radio went dead.

“That was the last signal we received from General Matias and his team,” Erning said quietly.

The five of them stood frozen, hearts pounding. No one spoke.