Infringement

by Benjamin Westbrook

  Jessica reached out for Evan’s hand. Reluctantly, he gave it to her and they ran hand in hand toward the east fence. Evan could see a mass of detainees rushing from the two bombed buildings out onto the yard and toward the confused guards stationed at the fence. Some of the detainees had rifles they’d apparently taken from guards inside, and a firefight ensued. More guards rushed from the opposite side of the yard, firing their automatic weapons into the mass of detainees pushing through the fence.

  The scene was total chaos. For Jessica, it was an eerie parallel to the protests. “Hurry,” she yelled. “We need to get through the fence before the guards get control again and close it off!”

  Evan kept his eyes forward as they ran. His lungs heaved in a way they hadn’t in years. He felt as if he might vomit, but, despite the pain coursing throughout his body, he kept pushing forward, pulling slightly ahead of Jessica. There were easily over seven hundred detainees who had pushed through the east fence. Too many people to count were falling to the ground, both detainees and guards. It appeared to Evan that the detainees with rifles or makeshift weapons of varying types were trying to fend off the oncoming rush of guards while the hundreds of others pushed past the fallen barbed-wire fence to the freedom of the outside. Evan and Jessica finally rushed into the fray.

  “Don’t let go of my hand,” he called over to her. “If we get separated, I’ll never find you again in this mess.”

  The mass of humanity closed in around them on all sides, enveloping them in a moving, breathing wall of sweat, blood and flesh. Evan kept his head low and his eyes forward, gripping Jessica’s hand like a like a vice. A man fell in front of him, but before Evan could even think to try and help him up, he’d been trampled by the mass pushing forward. Guards fired relentlessly into the crowd from behind and above. Men and women fell constantly on all sides, but Evan and Jessica could do nothing other than move forward, feeling the fallen under their feet as they were pressed ahead. The pressure from behind them was impossible to resist. They were cattle in the midst of a stampede.

  At a seemingly arbitrary point just past the opening in the fence, the bottleneck of humanity cleared and the detainees splintered into a million different directions. When the mass of people in front of them had thinned some, all Evan and Jessica could see was a hundred yards of open ground, covered by unkempt brush and weeds. They ran as fast as they could forward, zigzagging in order to avoid the barrage of bullets streaking through the air around them.

  When they were enough out of the way of the running masses, Evan drug them down onto the ground where they lay with their faces in the dirt. “We need a plan,” he yelled.

  “There’s a railroad track about another fifty yards diagonally to our right. The track is on a rise. If we can get to the other side we’ll have some cover.”

  “Fine, let’s go!”

  They both shot up and ran toward the rise. Shots continued to ring out behind them and the screams and groans of those being shot down on either side and behind them filled their ears, prompting them to sprint with every ounce of speed they possessed. Evan looked to his left and saw troop transports moving quickly along the road bordering the field.

  “C’mon,” he called out. “We’ve got to get somewhere out of sight!”

  Jessica, who had also caught sight of the armored trucks, nodded and they raced the last 10 yards up and over the train tracks, nearly tumbling down the slope on the other side. The land on the other side of the train tracks was wooded, providing better cover in the trees and undergrowth. They dashed into the trees and ducked down behind a set of thick full bushes, both desperately trying to catch their breath.

  Evan asked, “What now?”

  “I don’t know. I think there’s a neighborhood somewhere on the other side of these woods.”

  “How far?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Detainees from the camp continued to stream through the woods as Evan and Jessica crouched down, trying to catch their breath and come up with a plan. Desperate for more time to gather their breath and thoughts, they heard the sound of heavy brakes stopping back toward the road, followed by the thud of boots hitting the pavement.

  “We’ve gotta go,” Evan said. “They’re right behind us.”

  “Okay, let’s run toward where I think the houses are and see if we can’t find cover there.”

  They got up to run again. Out of the corner of his eye, Evan caught sight of what appeared to be an open drain pipe protruding from a small hill about twenty feet to their right. “Wait, over there,” he said pointing.

  Jessica caught sight of it too and said, “Let’s try it, but we have to hurry.”

  They ran to the pipe, which was about two feet in diameter and partially buried by packed dirt and mud, and overgrown with weeds of all varieties. Evan quickly peeked inside, “It’s big enough, but we need to crawl back well out of sight.”

  “Let’s go.”

  They rushed into the pipe, Jessica first, then Evan. Once inside, Evan worked to camouflage the partially visible opening with the overgrowth and they both hurried deep inside the tunnel, well away from the light of day. As they crawled further along, unable to see anything in front of them, they came to a point where the pipe turned to its left.

  “Here,” Jessica said. “Take the turn, that way we’ll be completely out of sight.”

  “Shhh,” Evan whispered and both were silent and still. Evan pushed Jessica forward into the turn, and she slid as quietly as possible ahead, leaving room for him behind her.

  “It’s a pipe, sir,” they both heard a male voice yell from outside.

  “Shoot into it, dammit!”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Evan hurried into the turn as a flurry of bullets rattled through the pipe just behind him.

  “If anybody was in there, they’re dead now,” the guard’s voice could be heard saying.

  The two sat balled up in the metal pipe, silently for some time, listening to the shouts, screams and gunfire in the woods outside. Finally, Jessica whispered, “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. You?”

  “I’m okay. What should we do?”

  “Stay here until things out there calm down and then, I guess, try and get you home. Is that realistic, to get to Denton?”

  “Yeah. It may not be easy, but it’s realistic. What will you do after that?”

  “Try and get back up to my family. Let’s wait here until it gets dark and then we’ll try and get to the neighborhood you said was up ahead. We can figure out what to do from there.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Chapter 59

  Louis sat up through the night, trying to find the words to describe what he’d witnessed. Every inch of his body ached. His heavy eyes desperately wanted to close, but were unable to. He was physically exhausted and mentally drained, yet incapable of sleep. While he had only seen the event from a safe distance, his imagination ran rampant with images of what it must be like at ground zero and within the very real and very messy confines of the blast radius.

  His trembling fingers remained at the ready position just above the keys; however, the page remained blank. Louis envisioned people, men, women and children, indiscriminately vaporized within seconds of the blast. Those, he thought, were the fortunate ones. The less fortunate, further out from the center, were likely incinerated and burned alive. The least fortunate, those even further out in the blast radius, had either died slowly or were still in the process of dying from radiation poisoning. By the time the sun rose again, Louis knew the entire city of Damascus and its outlying areas would be nothing but an empty uninhabitable heap of rubble, corpses and waste.

  _______________________

  Declan found Atau standing in front of the small television in the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator to grab a bottled water, Declan asked, “So, what’s on the menu for tonight?”

  Atau remained silent, completely engrossed in the images on the television screen. Noticing Atau�
�s singular focus on the TV, Declan peered around him and, for the first time, saw the images of the nuclear blast being replayed as the backdrop for the Spanish news commentary.

  “Where is that?”

  “Damascus,” Atau answered.

  “Did you say Damascus?”

  “Yes. It’s horrible. They say millions are dead.”

  Declan stood speechless. He couldn’t understand what the news reporters were saying in Spanish, but the images of the blast and various aerial images coming in of the aftermath were all that was needed. His mom and Evan had been right. He’d heard them talk about the destruction of Damascus and fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy too many times to count and, there it was, right in front of eyes. It had happened.

  His countless scoffs, his seemingly endless disbelief, and even his occasional disdain, none of it mattered in the least. As Evan had told him, his disbelief had absolutely no impact on the truth. God’s Word was, quite simply, the truth, and Declan could deny it no longer. There it was, being played out right in front of him. Arguing, denying, holding out any longer, it was all futile. In fact, it was stupid. The truth was there in front of him, it was in the Bible, just like his dad had told him so many years earlier.

  Declan went to his room, picked up his Bible, and headed outside to sit under the canopy in the garden. Once he’d sat down, he quickly flipped the onion skin pages until he reached Isaiah, Chapter 17, and he again read the words set forth by the prophet Isaiah with respect to Damascus, “See, Damascus will no longer be a city but will become a heap of ruins.”

  Declan read over the entire chapter three or four times, each time juxtaposing the words with the various news images of the ruinous heap Damascus and the surrounding area had become. The images on television, the images he’d seen with his own eyes, were those described by Isaiah. “In the evening, sudden terror! Before the morning, they are gone.”

  Finally able to fight no further, Declan set his Bible on the table in front of him, closed his watering eyes and prayed aloud:

  “Lord, I know you’re there. I suppose I always have. I’ve seen your power tonight. I feel you’re near, calling me, although I have no idea why or what use I’d be to you. You clearly don’t need my help. I’ve denied you for so long, blamed you for taking my dad away, cursed you in so many ways. I’m sorry. I’m so very very sorry. I’m a sinner, Lord. I don’t deny it any longer. I believe the only way to be saved is through your Son, Jesus Christ, who died on the cross for my sins and was resurrected. I believe that with all of my heart, Lord. I ask you for your gift of salvation and I accept Jesus Christ as my Savior with my whole heart. Do with me what you will, Lord. I’m all yours, and I never want to be separated from you again. Amen.”

  Just like that, just that quickly, it was finished, and Declan was saved. He was born again, forgiven of his sins, once and for all, no going back. Declan had finally opened his heart and he was, from that moment forward, a child of God, a member of Jesus’ church, redeemed. His race had begun.

  Declan sat staring through the rain at the valley below and he was, at least for the moment, at peace. For the first time he could remember since losing his dad, he wasn’t angry or bitter.

  “So now what?” he asked. The perfect rhythm of the falling rain beat in response as a gentle, reassuring breeze whispered across the garden. The leaves rustled amidst the breath of God, repeating a single simple word, “Trust.”

  Declan heard the thin pages of his Bible flap in the breeze. A slight breeze blew the pages of his Bible to Isaiah, Chapter 46. As he was about to turn back to Chapter 17, a passage in Chapter 46 caught his attention and he read the following, “I make known the end from the beginning, from ancient times, what is still to come. I say, ‘My purpose will stand and I will do all that I please’ … What I have said, that will I bring about. What I have planned, that will I do.”

  The last sentence burned into his mind, “What I have planned, that will I do.” Declan was struck by the unequivocal nature of the statement.

  “Yes, you certainly will,” Declan said. “And, I have a strong feeling you’re not even close to finished yet.”

  Chapter 60

  Evan peeked ahead to the opening in the metal pipe, but could see nothing other than the blackness of the night. The sounds of gunfire and conflict had died off hours earlier. The silence of night filled the little forest outside the drain pipe. Darkness had brought with it cold and, with their already insufficient clothes dampened, Evan and Jessica shivered through and through as they crawled out into the frigid night air.

  “At least it was warmer in there,” Jessica chattered. “I’m freezing.”

  “Me too. We won’t be able to stay out here very long without getting hypothermic. We’d better head toward the neighborhood and see if we can find a shed or an empty house or something to stay in.”

  As carefully and quietly as possible, the two made their way through the woods, toward the dim lights of the houses beyond. “Careful,” Evan whispered. “There’s a log or something here. I nearly tripped over it.”

  Jessica peered down through the darkness as she carefully placed her foot and saw the blood-caked corpse of a woman on the ground in front of her. “It wasn’t a log, it was a body,” she said.

  Evan looked back and saw the woman’s still open eyes dimly reflecting the scant moonlight. He and Jessica stopped and scanned the area in front of them. They were able to make out the outlines of six or seven other corpses littering the forest floor.

  “They didn’t even bother to pick them up for a proper burial,” Evan said. “They just left them lying here to rot and be picked over by whatever animals or insects come along. I’ve never seen anything so inhumane.”

  “Let’s just take our time,” Jessica said.

  After about ten minutes of carefully maneuvering around bodies and brush, Evan and Jessica finally reached the edge of the woods. They crouched down, shivering, yet well hidden in the brush, and looked and listened for any signs of life or activity.

  “It’s quiet,” Evan whispered.

  “Everyone’s inside because of the curfew.”

  “Let’s wait here a minute and see if it stays quiet.”

  “Okay, but I’m freezing. We’ve got to get somewhere warm, or get some dry clothes. Do you see any houses that look like they might be empty?”

  “Not yet, but I’m looking,” Evan answered, scanning the street in front of him. “What time do you think it is?”

  “I have no idea. The curfew is sunset and I think that’s around six or so now. Maybe, seven or eight.”

  “I see a house up there with no lights on. If it’s only seven or eight, I’d guess it’s too early for them to be in bed. What do you think?”

  “Let’s check it out.”

  The two crept out from the secrecy of the brush, jetted across the open street and cut quickly through a neighboring yard. They rushed up to the unlit side of the dark house and paused for a second in the shadows. Evan moved forward slowly, trying his best to stay in the shadows. Jessica followed closely behind.

  “Let’s go around to the back,” Evan whispered. He tried to open the door of the wooden privacy fence as quietly as possible, but it creaked the entire way. Evan slid through to the backyard first, hoping not to encounter a dog. When it looked okay, Jessica went in behind him.

  The back yard was dark, lit only by a sliver of moonlight, and relatively empty except for a barbeque grill and a couple of plastic lawn chairs on a flat concrete patio. As Evan peered through the sliding glass door, Jessica opened the lid on the barbeque grill to see if there was any warmth, but only found a set of barbeque thongs and a small two-pronged barbeque fork. She stuck the metal barbeque fork into her back pocket, underneath her damp, tattered sweater.

  “It looks empty,” Evan said. “But I don’t see any way in other than to break the glass.”

  “That won’t work. It’ll just make a bunch of noise and get all the neighbors out to see what’s going on. Was
n’t there a garage around front?”

  “I think so.”

  “Maybe there’s a garage door or window that’s open.”

  “It’s worth a try.”

  They headed around to the opposite side of the house and through another gate leading back to the front yard. A few feet past the gate, they found a side door accessing the garage. Evan tried to open it.

  “It’s locked, but maybe I can try and jimmy it,” he whispered.

  Jessica looked around nervously, while Evan tried to work the lock. A pair of headlights advancing deliberately down the street caught her attention.

  “A car’s coming.”

  “Hurry, let’s get back to the backyard,” Evan replied.

  They rushed back through the fence, shivering in the cold, as a Homeland cruiser passed slowly down the street, shining its spotlight on the houses across the street.

  “They’re doing patrols. They’ll probably come back through to scan this side too.”

  “Let’s try the door again real quick. I think I can get it.”

  As they came back through the gate to the side of the house, they heard another voice, “Psst. Psst,” and both froze. “It’s okay,” the voice whispered. “I’m a friend.”

  The voice came from an open, but dark, window of the neighboring house. “I can help you. My front door is unlocked. Hurry and come inside before they come back.”

  Evan and Jessica looked at each other uneasily, uncertain what to do. They could barely see what appeared to be an older man standing in the window. “It’s okay,” he tried to reassure them again. “I’m on your side.”

  Jessica peered down the block, watching as the Homeland cruiser began to circle back for a second pass down the street. “If we’re going to do it, we have to do it now, before they turn around,” she said.

  Fearing they had no other options, they rushed toward the man’s front door. Evan turned the knob and went in first, as Jessica quickly closed the door behind them. They stood, panting and shivering, on the small tile foyer.