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

Page 34

by HJ Lawson

“Zak, wake up. It’s me, you are safe now,” I say, as I lift his head onto my knee. I lightly brush my hand over his forehead. He’s covered in blood, and it's seeping from everywhere—he’s bleeding to death. I see his eyes flutter under his closed lids.

  “Zak. Wake up,” I say, as I gently shake him. “I’m not losing you…”

  “What happened?” Ali mumbles. “Where’s Zak?”

  I can hear Gérard’s and Kyra’s voices in the background, quickly explaining what’s happened.

  “Gérard, he will not wake up!” I scream. He has to wake up!

  “Zak, I need you…” I can feel the air in my lungs being stolen and replaced with darkness—death is here.

  “Zak, wake up!” Ali begs and frantically shakes Zak’s body.

  Zak’s eyelids finally open, and his bloodshot eyes roll around toward the back of his head.

  “What…?” Zak weakly murmurs.

  Thank God… he’s awake… I breathe out a huge sigh of relief.

  “Jada,” he adds. He looks around, as though he cannot see me.

  “I’m here. I love you,” I say, as I take his hand.

  “I love you too. Ali…”

  “Look after Jada for me. Find our father. Hunt down Heen Dara and Captain Reef and kill them for me,” Zak blurts, and then falls silent.

  His eyes roll to the back of his head once more, and his body goes limp.

  “Zak, come back!” I scream. I feel like my heart is shattering into millions of pieces, just like the plane that stole his life from him.

  “Gérard, do something,” I plead, as he takes Zak's wrist.

  “He’s got a faint pulse. Move out of the way… lay him flat on the ground,” Gérard orders. I quickly do as I’m told.

  Gérard opens up Zak’s mouth, and then lifts up his chin with one hand and pushes down on his forehead with the other. He places his cheek over Zak’s lips for a second.

  He swiftly pinches Zak’s nose shut, then exhales into Zak’s mouth. Zak’s lungs rise with each exhale. Gérard is breathing for him. He immediately begins chest compressions, about thirty in all. Then he repeats the sequence. My body drops to the ground and I place my head onto my knees. Every part of me feels empty, as though any last shred of happiness has been stolen from me.

  Gérard keeps breathing and doing the chest compressions. Sweat begins to drop down his head, landing on Zak’s body.

  “Gérard!” I blurt out, but he doesn’t stop. He just keeps going.

  “Gérard. He’s gone…” The pain rips through my body, more painful than any bullet.

  “No. I’m not losing him!” Gérard protests, as he moves toward Zak’s mouth again.

  “Gérard, leave him now,” Ali pleads, as he places his hand onto Gérard's shoulder.

  Gérard pushes Ali’s hand off him, and continues with the compressions. “Gérard… It's okay. You can stop,” I say, as I place my arm around his waist.

  Gérard pauses, then his body buckles over Zak as he surrenders… he cannot bring him back.

  Silently, I close Zak’s eyelids as I stroke his face. Goodbye, my first and only love… be at peace now with your mother and Tilly.

  Ali places his hand over mine. “I will do as Zak requested.”

  *****

  “Gérard, we have to leave,” Faith says, breaking our somber silence.

  Almost instantly, Gérard lifts his head up, snapping back to life… I wish her voice could do the same for Zak.

  He wipes the tears from his face and stands up. He reaches out his hand to mine. I take it from him, and using his strength, I stand next to him.

  “Where did we land?” Gérard asks.

  “We must still be in New York,” Faith says.

  “Fuck. You’re right. We need to get out of here… the radioactive fallout could’ve already reached us, depending on how big the bomb was.”

  None of us needed to ask anymore. We all know what will happen to us if we’re exposed to radioactivity. We all look around in a hurry—we are in the middle of nowhere. My palms begin to sweat.

  “Over there,” Kyra says frantically, as she points to a small house on the horizon.

  “What about Zak?” I ask, my voice trembling.

  We all look down at his blood-stained body. He looks so small lying there. So alone.

  “I will carry him,” Gérard says.

  “We can take turns,” Ali insists.

  We all look down at Hanna’s body as it lies motionless. Gérard just shakes his head. She didn’t make it either.

  Kyra stands over Hanna’s body, as tears roll down her face.

  “Does anyone have a phone?” Faith asks, as she places her arm around Kyra. Gérard reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone and stares at it for a moment.

  Fear washes over Kyra’s face, and she quickly scrambles around the ground below her seat.

  “Still not working,” Gérard adds, as he looks back up from his phone.

  “God… I can’t find my bag… I have no insulin,” Kyra says in a panic, scared that she will be the next person to die.

  The rest of us shake our heads in agreement. We have no belongings anymore, just the clothes on our backs.

  “Let’s get to the house quickly. We will call for help. Don’t worry, Kyra, we will get you the insulin,” Faith says.

  Gérard carefully lifts Zak off the ground and into his arms, the way a father would a newborn baby… cradling him from the world.

  We silently leave the site that took Zak’s life and part of my soul. Ali walks next to me, placing his arm around me. He feels the same pain as I do— I am not alone in my suffering.

  We hurry toward the remains of the plane, and the smell of burning fuel fills the air. I glance in toward the cockpit—it’s a chargrilled mess. The pilots didn’t make it. We keep on walking, and no one stops as we head toward the house.

  “Where’s Ashton?” Kyra asks.

  Gérard looks over at Faith. Her eyes fill up with tears—she must have found him.

  “Oh,” Kyra breathes in and sighs.

  Jesus, how could I have forgotten? “Liquorice… Liquorice…!” I yell out.

  Everyone else joins in, yelling for him. Please, Lord, not him as well!

  In the distance, I can see a shape moving… It's Liquorice… he is sprinting right toward me.

  “Come here, boy!” I yell, as I pat my knees the way I did the first day we met in Syria.

  I have gone from one war to another…

  Chapter 9

  Very Special Uncle Sam.

  ETHAN

  No other words are spoken between Samuel and me until we locate the checkpoint.

  Instead of speaking, we use the time to absorb the great work we have begun.

  On the horizon I can make out our checkpoint, a secluded road that leads nowhere. When the recession hit, they ceased work on the road, which would’ve led into a new town… now our town. We have them scattered all across America, and these silent, deserted towns will be rich with life soon, as we build our army.

  We begin our descent. I press the button for the landing gear, and hear the creaking sounds as the wheels come down from their housing.

  Bright red flares stand in sharp contrast to the black road beneath us. I see our team is already there as we land the plane.

  *****

  “Where are they?” I ask one of the men.

  “In the back of the van,” he replies.

  “Bring them to me,” I order, and they obey my command.

  The two men I’ve selected step out of the van. I’ve spent the last year looking for them. They had to be the same height, weight, and ethnic origin as Samuel and myself. They needed to have no loved ones who would come looking for them. And if they were sinners, that was an added bonus.

  Mine is a definite sinner… a rapist.

  Muffled groans come from the men, as their mouths are bound and they have bags on their heads.

  I unzip my Air Force uniform, and am looking forward
to setting these clothes on fire, finally discarding this false life. I cannot wait until Ethan is dead, and replaced with Mohammad again!

  “Kneel!” I demand to the sacrifices in front of me. They have wasted their lives. Now I will make use of them.

  Samuel pushes the men to the ground. “Unmask them,” I order. Samuel stands by my side, as we look down on our prey.

  The bag comes off, revealing my new, very special Uncle Sam. I have waited a long time for this day.

  “Today is your day to repent of your sins,” I tell them. The men’s eyes are glazed over and wide with fear. The black tape over their mouths is wrapped tightly around their heads.

  “Do you have any final words?” I ask. Tears and sweat roll down their faces as they try to speak.

  “Take off the tape,” I order.

  There is a loud ripping sound, as their raw skin is revealed.

  “Speak.”

  The men remain silent. Even when death is standing in front of them, they cannot string a meaningful sentence together.

  “Nothing!?” I yell angrily… Father, I gave them a chance.

  “Stop!” one of them yells out, much to my pleasure.

  I tilt my head toward him. “Yes?”

  “Please don’t do this… I have a family.”

  I begin to laugh uncontrollably.

  “Sorry. Please excuse my rudeness. But you have to agree, that was funny! We both know your family abandoned you after you raped Lynda. You know Lynda had a loving family. You destroyed that.”

  After he raped her, her life was thrown completely upside down. She went from being an elementary school teacher, to staying hidden away in her Texas home. Her husband got custody of their daughter because of her mental instability. I hate him for what he has done to her. My mind wanders to her home… I have spent the last year watching over her.

  My arm swings out in front of me, connecting with the man's jaw and knocking him to the ground. Crimson blood pours from his mouth, and he spits out a tooth.

  “Please let me go… I promise I won’t say anything!”

  Why do they always say that? Of course they’ll say something…

  “Enough!” I hold up my hand. “Bag them, tape and dress them,” I order. I no longer want to see their faces.

  “Please…” One of them begs. Samuel reaches out and punches him to the ground.

  Time to end their lives.

  “My bag,” I order to one of our men, as the others dress the prisoners in our uniforms.

  The men’s hands are tied behind their backs, and they begin to wiggle around on the ground like the snakes that they are—unable to get free.

  They stop fighting it soon enough though, as they realize they will never get free.

  They are stripped to their underwear and then dressed in our clothing.

  I take my clothing from my bag and quickly dress. Unzipping the front pocket, I reach for the cyanide. Time to get on with the reason we are here. I fill the syringe and inject the poison into their veins, one by one.

  Then I smile.

  Chapter 10

  God’s Games.

  JADA

  Gérard never asks Ali to carry Zak, and I think Ali is glad. I don’t think he could do it without breaking down.

  I keep my eyes firmly to the ground as we walk toward the house—we all do, either to stop ourselves from stepping on metal scraps, or to keep from seeing Zak’s lifeless body.

  Why did he have to be taken from me? Each time I think of him I want to crumble to the ground. At least then we would be together.

  The group comes to a halt, and so do my dark thoughts. We are here.

  In front of us is an old, wooden, worn-down house that looks like it's straight out of a horror movie. Is this God's way of playing a damn joke on me? I think, as I look up to the sky.

  It’s starting to get dark as we all move toward the house. Gérard is with us; nothing is going to happen.

  “Albert… Albert. There are people,” a voice calls from the house, as thin grey curtains in the front window begin to move.

  Creak… “Who goes there?” an elderly voice yells out.

  “Sir. We have been in a plane crash. Can we use your phone?” Gérard speaks calmly.

  “Who’s going to pay for cleaning up the mess?” the old man hollers.

  “Albert!” says another elderly voice from inside. “Let them in!”

  “Come on… you heard what the boss said. Quickly, don’t let the heat out,” he huffs as he goes back into the house, the door creaking behind him.

  We all stand still. If Haytham was here, he would have cracked a silly joke, like, “Oh, this is when we go inside and it's not an old woman, but a doll that he talks to…”

  Did he make it out alive? I shake my head to myself as I know that would be impossible.

  “Come on, kids. There could be radioactive particles on our clothing. We have to get cleaned up,” Gérard explains as he walks forward, still cradling Zak in his arms.

  I follow them without question.

  Each step creaks as I walk up to the house. The smell of musty dampness hits me as soon as I enter their home.

  “Oh, Lord,” the elderly female voice rings out. My eyes automatically point in her direction as she sits by the window in her flower nightdress. Her weathered hand covers her wrinkled face, and her long, gray hair is brushed behind her ears.

  “Albert!” she snaps again.

  “What?” he yells from down the corridor.

  “These poor people need help. Call an ambulance!” She reaches her hands to the side of her, and then begins to move toward us — she’s in a wheelchair.

  “Pearl, I’m trying! You daft old cow, it's still not working!” Albert yells back. She rolls her eyes.

  “Keep trying!” Pearl hollers. I can hear mumbling from his direction, but she just smiles, revealing missing teeth.

  “Don’t mind him. He’s like that with everyone. A really grumpy old man,” she adds as she gets close to us.

  “Come in. Come in, please, into the living room. Close the front door.” Pearl wheels past us.

  As I enter the room, it's clear that she likes flowers. They are on everything, from the nicotine-stained wallpaper to the dusty cushions.

  “You can use the blanket for the poor lad,” she says, as she points over to the sofa.

  Faith pulls the blanket down over the sofa, and Gérard carefully places Zak’s body down on top of it.

  Gérard lifts the remaining blanket and lays it over Zak, covering his face. I take a seat next to him, and softly stroke his hair. Liquorice curls up on the floor in front of Zak.

  We are not ready to leave him.

  Chapter 11

  Lie.

  ETHAN

  Their unconscious bodies sit where Samuel and I were moments earlier. They are ready to take our places.

  The country will believe we burned to death… but instead of dying, we will be continuing my father’s work.

  The gulping sounds begin as our men pour the petrol over the plane.

  This is going to be one hell of a baptism for their entrance into hell.

  “Mohammed Abulafia, your father is alive and would like to speak with you.”

  “What!?” I snap. Samuel’s eyes bulge as though he wants me to keep it a secret from the other men.

  I cannot hold in my anger. “What are you saying?” I take hold of his arm and shake him.

  Bang… bang… fills the silent ghost town, and Samuel drops to the ground. A dark, crimson patch starts to appear on his pants. They shot him in the knee!

  Suddenly, pressure from an explosion knocks my body to the ground. I feel like I’ve been hit by a car. Then I hear the sounds of gunfire everywhere. They are shooting at us.

  “Find your father!” Samuel yells out, clutching his wounded leg and grimacing in agony.

  Bang… bang. They fire more rounds of bullets at us.

  One of them is coming closer to me, running with the petrol can in
his hand. I reach into my bag for my gun.

  My jaw shakes as he swings the heavy can across my face. The smell of gas drifts up my nose. He manages to pour it over me and knocks me to the ground.

  No! You will not burn me to death!

  I kick my legs out, sweeping his feet out from under him and knocking him onto the ground.

  Reaching out for my gun, I swing it around and shoot him in the jaw. His blood splatters over me.

  I continue firing my gun and get to my feet. Double crossers! As I dive toward the truck, a shower of bullets rains over me. None of them will survive this day, I vow.

  I fire back at them; I may be outnumbered, but I am a better shot. One after another they fall to the ground, dead. The gunfight ends, and I have no one left to kill…

  “Samuel, wake up!” Blood oozes from his neck as I shake him. I know he will not wake up.

  “Damn it!” I scream, as I raise my fist in the air.

  Something catches my eye, the man who poured petrol over me. He flinched when I screamed. He is still alive… but not for long.

  “You!” I yell at him. He lies still. I don’t have time for games.

  “Not very good at playing dead, are you?” Bang! I fire the gun next to his face, and dirt flies from the ground.

  He looks up at me, his eyes wide.

  “Who set us up?” I yell at him, as I stand over his worthless body.

  He frantically shakes his head.

  Crunch… “Arh!” he screams out, as I stamp my foot up and down on his hand, crushing each bone.

  “Tell me!”

  “Captain Reef… Captain Reef,” the man mumbles, as he pants for air.

  “Why?”

  “Arh!” he cries out.

  Today!

  “Because… you two will be too powerful,” the man moans.

  This is very true. I like the sound of Captain Reef now. “Why does he think that?” I gloat.

  “Once you are reunited with Abulafia, you two will be unstoppable.”

  I look over at Samuel; the man doesn’t mean us. He means me and my father?

  “Tell me more,” I command. I raise my foot, angry at the thought of my father being alive. But I have to let this man live until I get more information.

 

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