War Kids: Books 1 - 3 ( Young Adult Thriller Series

by HJ Lawson

  Oh God, I said it out loud. All of it! I’m as stupid as my parents.

  Brandon's mouth is hanging wide open as we sit there in silence. Finally I can’t take it anymore.

  “Say something,” I whisper.

  “Damn, Annabel… that’s a lot to take in.” He pushes his lips together and gives me a small smile. “No wonder you cracked up... you’ve had a crazy night!” He puts his arm around me again.

  “Brandon, it’s not a joke!” I can feel my skin burning up.

  “Sorry, I know… it’s the opposite. Just a lot to take in.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it.”

  “What happened?"

  Oh, well, I may as well tell him everything now. “I was on the docks down in Brooklyn, and thought I’d sleep there because I didn’t get into the shelter. Another man had the same idea and… he tried to… rape me.” I take a deep breath in and out. “There was a struggle and I stabbed him. He didn’t get up. I killed him.”

  Brandon’s eyes widen. He raises his fist to his chin, as if he’s thinking. “So to me it sounds like self-defense.”

  I hadn’t really thought of it that way; he’s right though, it was self-defense. But would anyone believe me?

  “Was it anyone we know?” he asks.

  I shake my head.

  “Have you ever seen him before?”

  I shake my head again. I’ve never seen him before, but his face will always haunt me.

  “Good… that’s a good thing. Maybe he was a wanderer passing through the city, one of those people that fall off the map, a John Doe.”

  Maybe he’s right, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. What if he had a family and children? God, I cannot think of that. I need to think like Brandon – that it was self-defense.

  He rubs my arm, trying to console me. “What’s WBR?”

  I hang my head low.

  “WBR stands for Wild Boar Riders,” I mumble.

  “Wild Boar Riders… the upstate biker gang? The one with the crazy leader named Big Red who feeds his enemies to his pigs?”

  I gulp. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

  He shakes his head and smiles. “It’s always the quiet ones!” Then he gives me a sidelong glance. “Were you in the gang?”

  “No, my parents are… or, I should say, were.”

  “Oh. Yeah, I heard Big Red and loads of members are awaiting trial.”

  “Yep. That’s true.”

  “Wait -” He pauses and gives me a funny look.

  Oh no… he’s figuring it out…

  “Shit, Annabel, newspapers said there was one key witness… is that you?”

  I just nod.

  “What the hell are you doing here? Why are you not in witness protection?”

  “Well, I was. I sort of still am if I want to be, but I wasn’t safe there.” This is really going to confuse him, I’m sure. Every day, I wonder if it’s the right decision to be homeless and on the run. But I’m still alive, so it must be.

  “You’re not making sense… you were, or you are?”

  “I was in witness protection for eight months, and every day my life was at risk. The WBR gang kept finding me. It became clear someone in the witness protection program was giving them information. So I bolted.”

  He doesn’t need to know the nitty gritty; I’m not ready to talk about that yet.

  “Makes sense,” he says, nodding. “There’s always corruption.”

  He’s quiet for several moments as he thinks about what I’ve said. “Wait, why is Big Red still in prison and waiting for trial if you’re the key witness and you’ve disappeared?”

  Ugh, all these questions; I’m too drained to talk. I take out my cell phone, hoping to wrap this up soon. “I’m still a witness; they just need to call me the day we go to trial. I have to go, or they’ll throw me in juvie.”

  Perfect… he’s really going to be into a girl like me! Murderer from a biker gang family…

  “Juvie? Whoa, Annabel, you really are a dark horse! Why would they throw you in juvenile hall? Are you a rat?”

  I let out a deep sigh. “Long story. Basically, Big Red made my family do shit for him, and the cops were watching us. There was an undercover agent in the gang. I say was, because Big Red disposed of him pretty quickly when he found out what was going on.” The agent was one of the good guys; he used to look after me. I knew something was different about him from the first day I met him.

  Why does everyone I care for die? Am I cursed?

  “So, you had no choice?” he asks.

  I shake my head. My whole life has been filled with “no choice”.

  “Wow… that sucks big time! I thought my life was bad, but this takes it to another level!” Brandon squeezes his arm around me and kisses me on my cheek.

  I flinch in surprise and turn to look at him. He’s just sitting there smiling, and he shrugs his shoulders. I let out a little laugh.

  “Cheers, Brandon… I needed that.”

  We sit in a comfortable silence for several moments. I only hope I can trust him with my deepest, darkest secrets. Maybe he’ll turn on me like everyone else does. I guess only time will tell.

  “We can’t sit here all night,” he finally says, breaking the silence. “You need to sleep, and I need to think about what we’re going to do next.”

  We? “You’re going to help me?” I hold my breath, waiting for his answer.

  He shrugs and gives me a sexy smirk. “Got nothing else to do. Being homeless is boring.” He leans back and his knees nudge against me.

  “Thanks… glad I can be your entertainment.” I look up at him, and he gives me a wink.

  Without thinking, I dive in and quickly kiss him on his lips. “Thank you, Brandon. That means a lot to me.”

  “Do I get a kiss each time I do something nice?” he asks with a smug look on his face.

  “You’ll have to wait and see.” It feels wrong to be flirting at a time like this, but my head hurts from the evening’s events. I need something to block it out… to block it all out!

  I grab his hand, and we both stand up. “I’m starving,” I say. “Jamie said she has some food; shall we crash here tonight, and then move on?”

  Brandon shrugs again. “Don’t think we have any other options.”

  I narrow my eyes and study him closely. “Have you taken anything tonight?” I’m not sure if Brandon takes a lot of drugs like the others. He doesn’t seem like the type, but you never know.

  “Only a bit of pot and a beer. Why?” He frowns.

  “Sorry… it’s just Troy. I hate him. Please don’t leave me alone with him.” I shudder at the thought.

  Brandon has a concerned look on his face. “Don’t worry, Annabel… that prick won’t come near you. I hate him as well. I didn’t know he was going to be here. I haven’t got a clue what Jamie is doing with him. She’s always so screwed up when he leaves. He fills her with drugs, and she has no money to pay for them. And, well, you know what happens next… always the same downhill story!”

  “I haven’t got a clue what she sees in him. He’s a slime ball!” I snap.

  “Come on then, let’s get some beers and snacks and hide in Jamie’s bedroom.”

  I roll my eyes at him. Boys!

  “Annabel!” Brandon yells, laughing at me.

  Ha, okay… maybe he wasn’t thinking what I was thinking!

  “Promise me you won’t say anything to anyone,” I beg of him, suddenly serious. My life is in his hands. I don’t like the feeling of someone else having power over me. It makes me scared and nervous. But I have no choice. I have to trust someone, and I can’t do everything on my own. I need help.

  I need him.

  “Annabel, I promise I won’t tell anyone,” Brandon whispers, looking deeply into my eyes. “It will be our secret.”

  Then he smiles and wipes the tears from my face.

  Chapter 6

  Life’s Work.

  ETHAN

  I can’t sleep because of anticipation;
tomorrow is going to be the greatest day of my life. I will be able to show everyone my life’s work.

  Chapter 7

  The Streets Are Cleaner.

  ANNABEL

  “Party’s back!” Brandon yells over the music as we walk into Jamie’s apartment. I look around in horrified awe… it looks like a garbage truck has dumped the entire building’s crap in here. No wonder the place is full of rats. Disgusting!

  Jaime told me that there are four people living here; she and another girl share a bedroom, and two other girls share the front room. You’d think four girls living in an apartment would keep it clean, but hell no. There is trash everywhere, and the smell is overwhelming.

  Jamie comes running over and throws her arms around me.

  “Welcome back! You two been making out?” Jamie says in a stupid, kiddy voice.

  I force myself to hide my irritation with her. I need her to let me stay here tonight. “Yeah, we were. Anyone got a beer and a joint?”

  Brandon swings his arm around me and pulls me away from Jamie, toward a guy holding beers. Thank God he did that….

  “Look at you, already getting dragged away by your boyfriend,” Jamie laughs.

  Dragged away? Ha… the room is tiny, there’s not enough room to swing the giant rats!

  “Yeah, yeah… you'd better go run back to Troy,” I say to her with a smile. She laughs and skips over to him.

  Troy scowls at me. I know he hates the fact that I’m not scared of him. Checking around the room to make sure no one is looking, I stick my tongue out at him and squint my eyes.

  Before he can react, Jamie throws her arms around him, going for a full-on makeout session in front of everyone. Gross! As they kiss, Troy opens his eyes and looks right at me. His hands move away from Jamie’s back, and he beckons me over. Raising my own hand, I smile sweetly and give him the middle finger. Brandon’s arm tightens around my waist. He’s watching too.

  “Here, enjoy.” Brandon passes me a can of beer. I don’t really like the taste; I love hard apple cider. It’s too bloody expensive though. Oh well, a beer is better than nothing.

  I take several long gulps, feeling the cool liquid make its way to my empty stomach. I have to be careful… I can’t get drunk tonight. I’ve already told Brandon way too much. Wiping my hand across my mouth, I catch him smiling my way.

  He takes a drag off a joint and then passes it over to me.

  “Thanks… just what I need.”

  I place the joint carefully on my lips and deeply inhale. The sweet smoke of the cannabis fills my lungs. I hold it in for several long seconds, and then breathe out slowly, making little rings.

  I instantly feel the stress lifting from my brain. God, I’m really hungry. Ha! That’s way too fast for the munchies!

  I take one more drag… puff, puff, give… the smoker’s etiquette. I pass the joint to the girl next to me.

  With everything going on, I hadn’t realized who was in the room. I’d been in a kind of trance when I walked in, and then moved straight on to drinking and smoking. In our smoking group there’s Brandon, the girl I just passed the joint to, and another girl next to her with messed up hair and a pissed-off look on her face. I wonder if she’s angry because her hair is so ugly… a dirty yellow with heavy black roots. I’d be angry too!

  I try not to laugh. Damn, this weed’s already hitting me.

  “Go easy on that… it’s for all of us to share,” Brandon says, as Ugly Hair Girl starts to hog the joint.

  She scowls and passes it back to him.

  There is something about the smell of weed I just love… it’s so inviting, and has a kind of happiness about it. You never hear of anyone doing anything wrong on weed except having the munchies; really, I love this stuff. It takes my worries away, but I’m still in control.

  I continue to look around the room; there’s Brandon’s friend standing at the window rolling the next joint. He nods at me when I look over at him, and I smile back. He never says much… I guess he’s always high and a bit paranoid. That’s one thing weed does to you if you smoke too much.

  To my right is a sofa where Jamie’s roommates are slumped over on each other. They look unconscious; I can see their eyeballs moving around under their eyelids, as if they’re having some crazy dreams from being messed up on drugs.

  In front of them is a small coffee table covered in white power. Cocaine. Guess the girls had a good night’s work on the street! I steer way clear of that garbage — all it does is ruin you. No thanks.

  Next to the sofa is an oversized black chair, about the size of a small loveseat. Troy is sitting on it like it’s his throne, and Jamie has her legs straddled over him and is grinding up and down like she’s giving him a lap dance. Each time she moves we can see her thong up her ass! Not cute.

  The two of them look like they’re going to start screwing right here and now, in front of everyone. They have no shame. They’re probably too high to even realize that anyone else is here! Actually, I think everyone is too high to realize what is going on anyway.

  I can feel someone watching me. I turn my gaze from the appalling sight to find Brandon staring at me. He frowns and pretends to puke.

  I laugh at him. He holds up a six-pack of beer and two joints; then he motions with his eyes toward Jamie’s room.

  I quickly nod and grab a bag of chips and head into the bedroom. Brandon closes the door behind us. “God, I’m so glad to be out of there,” I say, as I sit down on the bed. “Have you been here before?”

  “Hell no!” He shakes his head as if the thought makes him sick. “And this is not a place you want to come back to!”

  “The streets are cleaner than this place. I mean, my God, what is that smell?” My face twists into a scowl.

  “Smells like piss!” he says, and gets up to investigate. Then he groans. “That’s repulsive! There’s a piss bucket by the side of the bed!”

  “No, are you joking?” I ask, as I step around the bed to see. Oh, God, that’s a whole new low! Pissing in a bucket!

  “Jamie did say the bathroom is three flights down and isn't very safe… but really?” I feel my stomach clench, and I taste bile in my throat.

  “Damn, this is one messed-up place.” Brandon picks up one of Jamie’s tops from her bed. Oh no, he’s going to touch the bucket… I’m going to puke!

  Brandon wraps his hands in a t-shirt and grabs the bucket. “Let me get this out of here. Be right back.”

  Thank God!

  He returns a few minutes later. “Had to find a place to wash my hands.”

  I nod. Then I put my hands over my face and try not to cry. Crap, not again. “Sorry… it’s been a horrible night!”

  “Tell me about it!” Brandon smiles and puts his arm around my shoulders. It feels nice, but it doesn’t help me. What the hell am I going to do? I’m a killer… a murderer. “Annabel, it will be okay. I’m not going to leave you.”

  After everything I told him tonight, he’s not leaving me. “Thanks, Brandon. That means a lot.” I look at the bed in disgust. Jesus, how can anyone live here? “Where are we going to sleep?”

  “Well, we’re not sleeping here, that’s for sure.”

  He scrounges around and finds some clean sheets in a drawer. Then he makes us a nice bed on the floor after clearing some space. I sit beside him, and he lights the joint; the potent smell fills the room, and I can feel the stress and guilt swaying away as the smoke clouds dance around me.

  We pass it between us silently, enjoying the peaceful respite from our nightmares.

  Chapter 8

  Just a Normal Girl.

  JADA

  Sitting on the yellow school bus, my friends and I look like any normal American children, but we are not. We had to kill for our freedom.

  “Zak, move over. Jada and I have some important stuff to talk about,” Kyra says. Zak laughs at her, but he makes room.

  “You could at least say hello before stealing my seat!” He shakes his head with his silly smile.
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  “Hey, Zak, can’t you see I’m excited?” Kyra leans over the back of the seat and plants a kiss on Ali’s waiting lips, much to Haytham’s disgust.

  “Morning, sweetheart… you sleep well?” Ali asks Kyra. They’d immediately begun dating, once we moved here. Kyra mother’s disapproves, because Kyra and Ali are from completely different worlds. But they fit perfectly together… they both look like Gap models.

  “Slept perfectly as always. You were in my dreams… I will tell you about them later,” Kyra says. Haytham just rolls his eyes.

  Haytham has changed the most this year. He’s no longer a chubby child, and he’s taller than I - but that’s not hard! He’s nearly the same height as Zak, and he works out with Zak and Ali in the gym a lot.

  It’s not just Haytham's physical appearance that’s changed; his personality has changed as well. He gets angry quickly, and is in a really bad mood at times. Not that I blame him.

  “Why are you so excited?”

  “Prom, silly. Mom’s hired us a limo!”

  Kyra lets out a high-pitched squeal in excitement. I notice that American girls squeal a lot, and they talk really fast.

  I’m not sure what to say, so I just reply, “Cool.”

  Kyra continues chatting away. I’ve learned that if I nod and say ‘yeah’ every so often, my mind can wander off and think about something else while she talks, and she won’t even notice.

  Staring out the school bus window, I start to think about the day I was in the car with Gérard. We were on our way to meet Makio Suzuki, the first person on my father’s list.

  *****

  “Turn left on Willow Boulevard,” the navigation said in a robotic voice, waking me from my sleepy state.

  “Are we nearly there yet?” I asked Gérard.

  “Yes, I think it’s about ten minutes away, unless this navigation is sending me in the wrong bloody direction!” Gérard yawned as he continued driving.