War Kids: Books 1 - 3 ( Young Adult Thriller Series Page 15

  “Looks like I’m going to have to make money fast! Four mouths to feed, and the food here sucks!” I say. That reminds me, I need to check with Suranga. She said she should have an answer today on whether I can use the printer.

  “Do you want to see a picture?” I ask Ali.

  “Sure,” he says, as he moves forward in the bed.

  “You’re looking better now. When are you getting out?” I ask.

  “Thanks… they’re kicking me out tomorrow. I get to live in a communal tent.”

  “I'm not promising anything, but I could ask Mother if you can stay with us. That is, if you don’t mind putting up with a newborn?”

  Ali looks pleased with the offer… almost as if he’s been hoping I’d ask. “Do you think she’ll mind?”

  “I don’t think so… she’s really nice.” She is… usually. I just hope she doesn’t mind, with the new baby. But I think I’ll be able to sell it to her — I’ll say he can help me with my business so we can get more money to feed the baby. Yes, that’s it!

  “You want to help with my camera business?” ‘Cause I cannot feed Ali in addition to my whole family. But it surely would be nice to have another man in the house.

  “Yeah! I’m good at talking to people; I can help get customers,” Ali says. He does look like everyone would talk to him. He has a friendly face. “Let’s have a look at your photo of the new baby.”

  “This is Jada,” I say, as I show him an image on the camera. “Mother named her after a girl that helped get her to the hospital. If it was a boy, he was going to be called Zak — a boy who also helped. To be honest, Zak is the reason we’re still alive. But I helped, too…” I can’t have Ali thinking I’m soft, and it’s not a lie.

  I miss Jada; I thought they’d be here by now. I wonder what’s taking them so long.

  I bet she’s falling in love with Zak. There's no chance for me when he’s around!

  “Zak? My brother is named Zak,” Ali says.

  My eyebrows drop down together as I take a deeper look at Ali… he looks just like an older version of Zak!

  What the hell?!

  Chapter 39

  Many Happy Returns.

  JADA

  Tilly is smiling, and giddy with excitement, as I enter the kitchen. “Happy birthday!” she yells, as she runs over to give me a hug.

  I’m still on a high from my morning date. Was that my first date, on my birthday? I lift Tilly up to hug her back. “Did you like the food? Was it romantic? Did he kiss you?” She laughs.

  I’m being interrogated by a child, what is going on? I can feel my cheeks turn pink, aware that everyone in the kitchen is watching me, waiting for an answer.

  I just nod with a silly grin on my red face.

  “That’s disgusting. You kissed a boy! You kissed my brother!” Tilly yells out. She’s having fun. My cheeks feel as if they are going to explode.

  “Tilly, stop teasing Jada. It’s her birthday, after all!” one of the older girls says.

  She’s around my age, a quiet girl who doesn’t speak much, but sometimes I can hear her talking to herself, as if she’s having an argument.

  She stops when she realizes people are watching her. I spotted her once and told her not to be embarrassed, we all talk to ourselves, but we both knew this was different. The poor girl is going crazy.

  There are a few children here who are crazy... the war has affected them mentally. You can see how they walk around, as if they’re in a daydream, quietly whispering to themselves and avoiding contact with anyone else. I often wonder what they’ve been through, what they’ve witnessed, to turn them this way. I try not to think about it. The horrible thoughts that run through my head disgust me.

  At night, it’s harder to tell which children are crazy, because we all seem to have nightmares. There are children who scream out at night for their mothers or fathers. Other children scream out in what sounds like a made-up language, while others just cry.

  Tilly has horrible nightmares. I always hug her when they start, and she quickly calms down. I don’t think she remembers her dreams in the morning, which is a good thing. She’s always happy. I find it hard to sleep; the nightmares are just too clear, too real.

  I’ve learned to stick tissues in my ears to block out some of the sounds. But I don’t want to block everything out, in case the soldiers come.

  Father taught me that, even in my sleep, I have to be ready for anything, at any time. I thank my father every night when I pray. If it wasn’t for him, I’d be dead by now. I also pray to God that he is safe, and that we’ll be reunited soon.

  “Happy Birthday!”

  One after another, the children in the kitchen chant to me. It’s nice to see everyone happy. It makes me feel special and reminds me of when I had birthday parties at home.

  “Thank you,” I reply, a little embarrassed. I’m not very good at being the center of attention.

  The rest of the day passes quietly. Some people wish me a happy birthday as I pass by them. Zak is off sleeping somewhere. I can’t stop thinking about our amazing date, and am counting the minutes until we can meet up again.

  I already miss kissing him. He is the only thing that helps me forget, even for a moment, the nightmare we’re all living.

  *****

  The next morning, Zak gently shakes me awake. “Come on, sleepyhead, rise and shine.” He only needs to tell me once, and I’m up and ready to go. I grab my gun. Zak is still kneeling next to me, smiling at how quickly and quietly I am moving.

  He stands and reaches his hand out to mine. I instantly take it. Happy to be back together, we follow the same route from yesterday. We head to the kitchen and grab a bag of supplies, and I add in a few extra things.

  Zak lets go of my hand to check for the look-out. When he returns he takes it again and leads me outside. Dani nods at Zak and waves at me. I nod back. Last night I realized I need to take all of this much more seriously. We are at war. I could lose my life if I go back to being ‘innocent Jada.’

  Instead of watching the sun rise, we move straight down to the woods to practice. I wonder when he’s going to kiss me next. I need to focus, but it keeps running through my mind. I wonder if he is thinking she same.

  I guess he is, because as soon as I place the bag down and stand next to him to practice shooting, he takes my hand before I can reach for the gun. Pulling me in towards him, he kisses me firmly on the lips. This time it’s different, more intense, more passionate, as if he’s been waiting a lifetime to kiss me again.

  He moves his other arm around my waist, placing it on my hip so I’m even closer to him. I feel like we are one. Time has frozen in a moment of joy I want to keep forever; I'm unwilling to let go.

  Slowly, he peels his lips away, opening his eyes to gaze into mine. His hand reaches up and brushes my hair from my eyes. “I’ve been waiting all night for that kiss. I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too,” I reply, a little bit embarrassed. I’ve never spoken to anyone like this before, but it just feels right. I try to re-focus, but when I look at him it’s hard! “So, I guess we don’t have much time to practice,” I quickly add.

  “What, you think I need more practice? Is my kissing not up to your standards?” Zak laughs, and I jab him in the ribs. “Ouch, okay… okay… just joking. Let’s practice.”

  “I brought some tins for targets.”

  “Cool,” he replies.

  The air raids haven’t started yet, so we decide to have breakfast. Outside the little house, Zak lays out a blanket, and we sit next to each other.

  “Zak, when we were in the restaurant, you were about to tell me something. Mansur interrupted you. What were you going to say?” I’ve been waiting for the right time to ask him this question. For some reason, it seems important.

  Zak takes in a deep breath.

  “There is something about Mansur… it’s as if I know him already. He looks like someone I know, someone I have met. I’ve heard his voice before, before the day we
met him… but it was different. Does that make any sense to you?”

  I sit and think for a moment, taking a bite of my food.

  “Perhaps… maybe it was someone from your school or your village?”

  “But that’s the thing; I don’t think I’ve ever met him before, yet I know him,” Zak says, with a puzzled look on his face.

  “Mmm, maybe you went to school with his brother? Or you had mutual friends?” I ask carefully, trying not to bring up any bad memories.

  “I thought the same thing. Since we met him, I’ve been running it through my mind, and I can’t think of anyone I went to school with, or in my village, who reminds me of him. And there’s another thing…” Zak pauses.

  “What? What’s the other thing?”

  He takes a deep breath and looks directly at me. “Did you not notice that Mansur and Junayd the Keeper look alike? It’s almost like they’re brothers.”

  I wasn’t expecting him to say that. I’ve only seen the Keeper one time, and it was only for a few moments. I barely remember what he looks like. Although I do know what Mansur looks like… almost too well!

  “Mmm, I didn’t notice. Sorry, I cannot remember what he looks like.”

  Zak glances down, disappointed.

  “I’m sorry,” I repeat, feeling badly for not being more helpful. “I was just so excited about finding my father.”

  “It’s okay. All we want is to be reunited with our fathers. Okay, I have another thing for you… Have you noticed how the teenagers all look the same? They have the same haircut, remember you noticed that?”

  “Yeah… and they have the same expression on their faces, like glazed-over zombies. I thought it was a bit strange, but I figured it was because of all the horrible things they’ve seen. You know, like the looks on some of the little kids’ faces,” I reply.

  Sometimes Zak gets the same expression I know I show when I have my flashbacks. But we usually shake ourselves out of it quickly, unlike the watchers and some of the younger children.

  “Exactly! Is that not odd to you? Why do they all look the same?”

  “I don’t know… I agree it’s a bit odd, but they’re not harming anyone. They’re just children, like us. I’m sorry; I don’t understand why you let this worry you.” I hope he doesn’t get cross with my reply.

  Zak hesitates again, as if unsure whether to continue.

  “But it’s like there’s something else going on, something we don’t know about,” he says, quieter. “This worries me. And what are they hiding from us?”

  I choose my words carefully.

  “Maybe they’re just busy planning the attack. Once we get our fathers back, they’ll know what to do.”

  “Jada, what if our fathers aren’t there? They may have been taken somewhere else. And then what?”

  He’s right. How stupid of me. I never thought that they may not actually be there. My whole world is crumbling again around me.

  Silently, we sit on the blanket. Zak is eating, but I’m no longer hungry. I feel sick at the thought of Father not being there. I have to be strong. My father and mother taught me to be.

  “If he is not there, I’m going to the airport,” I say, breaking the silence.

  “Why do you want to go there? Why not tent town?”

  “Because my mother left me a key, and it has the airport’s address on it.”

  “What does the key open?”

  “I don’t know, but I guess… No, I know it’s important. Would you come with me?” Please, I add silently.

  Zak takes my hand.

  “Jada, I would go to the ends of the earth with you, but I am not alone. I have Tilly. I have to look after her and get her to tent town, get her to safety. It’s killing me, knowing that she’s here and in danger every day. I’m sorry, Jada, but could you wait?”

  “What can we do?”

  “We can take her to tent town first. I can leave her with Sahar. She’ll look after her, and then we can get to the airport and find out what the key opens.” He smiles and so do I.

  “Great idea. So we go with the Keeper and his group, and pray that our fathers are there. If they’re not, we leave before we turn into zombies, take Tilly to Sahar, and find out what the key opens.”

  Zak nods. “Sounds like a plan to me. Why do you think they’re taking so long to rescue our fathers?

  I shrug. “I guess it’s because they’re waiting for the soldiers to leave. The plan won’t work if there are too many

  of them there. There are only a few of us. Do you know if the watchers and the new children can use a gun?”

  “Yes, there are a few. And the zombies can. You can tell by the way they carry the guns. They said that the other boys and I will get weapons for the attack, but they’re still searching for them, which to me sounds weird. They haven’t even asked us if we can fire a gun. How can we be any good if we’ve never used one? Some of the other children are worried as well.”

  He is right — that does sound a little bit strange. Why would they go attack a prison without knowing if we actually knew how to fight and defend ourselves? Maybe they’re just assuming everyone can since they made it this far. They must have some skills. That does make sense, in my head at least.

  Suddenly the air attack begins, breaking our conversation. “Come on, Zak, let’s go train. We don’t have much time.”

  As I teach Zak, I start to think maybe he’s just being paranoid. All the boys want to do is rescue their fathers. Okay, so they act a bit strange, but I would too, if I knew soon I’d be breaking into a guarded prison with a bunch of children.

  We should just be grateful they’re going to try to get them out, and that all this time they’ve been keeping us safe.

  Every few hours, new children arrive at the church; they are welcomed just like we were, and given jobs and a safe place to sleep. For a lot of us, this is the first time we’ve slept safely since our parents were taken. Zak has it wrong; he’s making me angry, all they’re trying to do is help us.

  The air raids go quickly; this round is over faster than yesterday's. Zak and I look at each other. “Do you think they are moving away?” I ask. “They’ve been attacking these areas for a long time. There can’t be much left.”

  Zak nods. “This means the rescue will take place any time now!”

  “I think you’re right… that it will happen soon. Don’t hate me, but I think you might be getting a bit paranoid about the older boys. Maybe they just assume that if we've made it this far, we know how to protect ourselves. And they may just be acting like zombies because they’ve seen too much. I think they’re going to help us.”

  He hands me the gun and twists his face into an angry scowl. “I’m not paranoid! How dare you!”

  “There’s no need to yell at me!”

  “Are you one of them?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I’ve seen the way Mansur looks at you!”

  I shake my head and narrow my eyes. “You made up all this rubbish because you’re jealous?”

  “No, I’m not jealous. And it’s not rubbish, you stupid kid!” Zak barks at me.

  I stare at him with my jaw open. How dare he call me a stupid kid!

  “I’m done with this!” he yells and sprints off, leaving me alone in the woods.

  “You jerk! Go on, run off, you fucking baby!” I shout at his retreating form. I’ve never been this angry before. I want to explode!

  “I’ll be fine on my own,” I mutter to myself a few moments later, kicking at the dirt.

  No, I won’t.

  Tears begin to roll down my face. How can I go from being so happy to feeling like this? I can’t believe he said those things and left me like that.

  I wipe the tears away from my cheeks. I cannot cry over a stupid boy!

  Chapter 40

  Tent Town.

  HAYTHAM

  “When we got to the border, the younger children were terrified. For days, we’d been running from soldiers,
and today we were driving straight toward them,” I tell Laura. But she doesn’t need to know I was scared too!

  “What happened next, Haytham?” she asks.

  “The soldiers directed our truck inside the camp. I could just see the wire fence with guards lined up against it,” I inform her.

  “Then what happened?”

  “We had to get out of the truck.”

  “How did you feel?”

  Great, is she trying to make me cry?

  “I felt relieved and sad,” I say with a deep breath. “I got my family to safety, but I had to leave people behind, the people who helped save us.”

  I hold my camera firmly, staring down at it.

  “Haytham, do you have a photo of the people who helped you?”

  I nod. “Yes. I have several.” I turn my camera on and hold it so I can see the images, skipping through a few photos of the war to the good ones.

  “This is my new baby sister, Jada. My mother named her after the girl who saved us.”

  “How old are they, the kids who helped save you?”

  “Jada was fourteen. She turned fifteen this week. Zak is sixteen. They were the oldest children in the gang.”

  “Do you have any more photos of Jada and Zak?” Laura asks.

  I scroll through the photos for another moment, then pause and feel a smile cross my face.

  “This is Jada the day she arrived. She was only with us for one night. She’d been through a lot, just like the rest of us.” I pass the camera to Laura.

  “How do I zoom in closer?” she asks me, and I lean over and show her.

  Laura takes a picture from her pocket, and starts glancing back and forth between the camera and the photo.

  What’s she staring at? I step forward for a better view and gasp.

  “Why do you have a photo of Jada?” I ask.

  “People are looking for her,” Laura replies with an astonished expression on her face. She hands me back the camera. “Haytham, where were they heading?”