War Kids (2 page)

GERARD

A few days earlier

“Faith, this is Laura from the BBC World News.”

Laura is younger than Faith, and her black, shiny hair is swept back into a ponytail. Her hazel eyes have a natural warmth to them, and after seeing all these injured people in the hospital, Laura is a breath of fresh air.

Oh, fuck!
Faith glares at me as she catches me admiring the beautiful newswoman. Fuck, she’s going to be pissed later!

Laura reaches her hand out to shake Faith’s. I catch sight of Laura’s manicured fingernails, and as Faith glances at me and rolls her eyes, I know what she’s thinking:
where did she come from? Some five star hotel?
Faith can be a little bitchy at times, but I like her fire.

Faith holds her hands up to show her bloody surgical gloves, and I stifle a laugh.

Faith reminds me of Mia. It’s weird because they look completely different… Faith has that golden blonde hair and those blue eyes that sparkle when she smiles.

Mia, on the other hand, had mahogany hair and breathtaking eyes that I could stare into for hours. But their facial expressions are similar, especially the way they both roll their eyes and scowl when they’re pissed off at me. But when Faith looks into my eyes, I know it’s different. No one can replace the love I had for Mia, the love that was stolen the day she was killed.

Faith smiles at Laura, wipes her gloves down the side of her bloodstained doctor’s jacket, and shakes the reporter's hand.

“How may I help you, Laura? I don’t have much free time since they started bombing the hospitals; this is the last one in the city.”

“I understand your time is precious – you are truly doing God’s work here. I’d like to interview you for tonight’s news. All I need is a few moments of your time. My cameraman is here now so it’ll only be one minute, I promise…. You could save thousands of lives.”

Faith glances at me. “Gérard, what can I say?”

I walk over and place my arm around her neck. “Say what is in your heart,” I whisper in her ear.

Faith looks down at her blood-covered shoes and pauses. Then her attention is drawn to her current patient, a petite young teenager.

The girl sits up on the bed and opens her eyes – beautiful, blue eyes, bulging with fear.

A shiver races down my spine. Staring at Faith, she says, “I’m alive. I’m alive. Protect me.”

The poor girl is in total shock as the words come from her mouth. Because of her, I know Faith will do the right thing – she’ll go through with the interview.

“Okay, let’s do it. But be quick so I can get back to the patients,” Faith tells Laura.

Laura looks over to the cameraman and nods.

The camera light comes on. Faith begins to speak.

“Suffering has gone beyond all boundaries. There is no safe place left. Syria has become a battlefield. Every aspect of human rights, freedom, and citizenship are lost from view, and no one cares. Entire villages have been cleared off the map. Innocent children are being massacred, and a whole generation is being erased. For what? I pray every single moment that the government and all political parties around the world will engage with the rebels. The rebels are capable of engaging in dialogue, because if they do not, the blood of the innocent is on their hands. All of their hands.”

ZAK

A thunderous boom echoes down the hallway. Bone-chilling screams follow the sound of terror.

I have a lump in my throat.
Oh, shit, they’re here; why would they come here?
The unthinkable is happening - they’re attacking my school. The thunderous barrage of shots continues as they move down the halls.

Bursts of explosions make the walls tremble, and cracks appear in front of my eyes like someone is drawing them with a pen. Dust from the ceiling falls onto the cream tiles. They’re getting closer. I have nowhere to run. I’m trapped like a rat here, in the boys' bathroom on the second floor of the school… my great idea to hide away from a stupid test! There are windows, but they have metal bars over the front of them to stop thieves from getting in. Now they’re trapping me in and blocking my freedom.

How the hell am I going to get out of here? I push open a stall and jump back in surprise. There is a boy sitting on the toilet; I don’t understand how he can be quiet! I recognize him from my science class. Jacob, I believe. We’re the same age, although he’s much smaller.

His body is trembling. He has his head down between his knees and is slowly rocking back and forth with his hands over his ears, whimpering.

“We need to get out!” I whisper loudly. Jacob places his hand back over his ears and continues to rock, his eyes glazed over with tears. He knows what’s going on, and he’s terrified.

Gut-wrenching screams filled with dread and horror echo in all directions; I can hear what sounds like a teacher pleading between firing, “Stop, stop! They’re only children.”

Bang. Thud
!

Oh fuck, they’re outside the bathroom! I have to get out of here or they’re going to kill me next. Cold sweat rolls down my neck as I race to the end cubicle to get as far away from the door as I can. I jump onto the toilet seat and place my hand over my mouth, trying to silence my heavy breathing.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” a deep, masculine voice fills the bathroom. Then the man lets out a heavy breath. “It’ll be easier if you come out. I mean you no harm, and I just have a question for you.”

Adrenaline rushes through my body. Trembling, I crouch low on the toilet seat, waiting to hear a sound. Is he at the first cubicle? Has he found Jacob? Jesus, what’s he going to do?

“Hello, little boy. I just want to ask you a question.”
Oh no, he found Jacob.
“Just one question: how old are you?”

“Sixteen,” replies Jacob.

“Perfect, my favorite age,” replies the intruder. A wave of relief floods over me. I’m the same age. If he’s fine, so am I.

A sudden explosion comes from the cubicle, and then the sound of Jacob’s body falling to the floor.

He killed him! He killed him!

SLAM
goes the next door.
SLAM, SLAM, SLAM
! He’s right outside my cubicle… he’s going to kill me….

I take one last, deep breath. Now it’s my time to die.

There’s another
SLAM
as a door swings open. But it’s not mine; it’s the main door into the bathroom. A split second later, my door flies open, and in front of me I see a black army boot lowering and the soldier wearing it.

The man is around my father’s age, but unlike my dad, he’s quite heavyset. He has dyed-black hair with gray roots, a thick mustache, and a cigarette in his mouth. But his eyes are averted as he stares back at the bathroom entrance.

Jesus…

My door quickly swings closed. He didn’t see me.

“Captain,” says the soldier in front of me.

“At ease, soldier.” I hear the captain walk over to the first cubicle where Jacob is.

“What’s your name, soldier?”

With his attention distracted, I seize the opportunity to make my move. I quickly and quietly jump down from the seat and scramble beneath the partition beside me to the stall the soldier just checked.

“Heen Dara.”

“Good work, Heen. Carry on.” With that, the captain exits, leaving Heen and me in the room alone. Heen kicks open the cubicle where I just was and sighs at the realization that no one is there.

With my hand placed firmly over my mouth, I pray for myself to not make a sound and for him to walk out of the bathroom. Time seems to freeze…. What is he waiting for?

The main bathroom door opens again. “Heen, all other rooms are clear. We’re moving them into the gym.” With that, Heen stomps out of the bathroom.

My body has become so rigid it doesn’t want to move an inch. But I have no choice — I have to get out of here. What is happening in the gym? Where is my brother, Ali? I hope he is safe.

Slowly, I lower my achy legs to the ground. I stand and prepare myself for how I’m going to get out of here. Edging my head around the cubicle, I see there is no one in here but myself and Jacob’s corpse.

I’ve never seen a dead body before.

One more step, and I will be next to one. I take in a deep breath and slowly exhale as I move forward. I don’t want to look, but I can’t help myself.

Jacob is folded over with his head toward his knees, wedged between the toilet bowl and the wall. There is shiny crimson blood dripping from his neck down to his white sneakers.

My stomach contracts. Shaking my head, I try to bring myself out of the state of shock. Even after squeezing my eyes together tightly, I can still see his limp body.

There are over a hundred kids in this school. How many have been murdered the way Jacob was? Is Ali alive? I have to find him.

I need my brother.

I hesitantly place my ear on the bathroom door to hear what’s happening outside. It is silent… too silent.

Slowly lowering my trembling hand to the cold door handle, I gently open it wide enough to peek through the crack. I don’t want to look. To my right there is a body slumped against a wall. It must’ve been the teacher I heard pleading before.

His head is folded down to his knees very much like Jacob’s, with his back against the wall, as he sits in a pool of his own blood. It was my math teacher, Mr. Kalif. He was the one trying to protect us.

Looking up the hallway, it becomes apparent that no one is alive here. All that remains are the bodies of children, my classmates, my friends and teachers. The walls are covered with hundreds of bullet holes. The plaster is crumbling, and a chalky dust floats down in slow motion. As the light from the windows hits the dust, it reminds me of how I’d always tell Tilly that dust particles were really fairies watching over us.

Shit, Tilly!
Are they going to all the schools and killing all the kids?

Carefully, I open the door just wide enough for me to squeeze through. Walking past Mr. Kalif, I think of how brave he was in the face of danger. He died trying to protect us. He was only a few years older than I; this was his first job as a teacher, and we used to tease him about that. How wrong we were.

There are so many bodies in the hallways, all covered in blood. No one is moving, no one except me. Is this really real? I quickly and quietly get to my classroom, hoping my teacher will be there and will know what to do.

The door is open. Maybe they got out in time. Stepping closer, I realize something is wrong. As I looking into the room, my eyes fill with horror.

Mr. Tabah, my teacher, is being propped up with the bodies of the students he was trying to protect.

They’re like a human mountain, with his corpse resting on them as if he is still trying to shield them, even in death.

Red oozes from my teacher’s mouth in slow motion. The drops float to the ground, landing in a river of crimson. The floor is a swamp of blood.

“Hello, is anyone alive? It’s Zak.” I’m hoping for some kind of answer. But the silence is killing me. I stare at the bodies, praying for one to move… to speak. But no one does.

I have to get the hell out of here and find my family.

I need to get to Ali. I have to go to the gym and see what is happening and if he is there. I wish I could go back to this morning… I would’ve never let us leave home.

I exit the classroom and walk through the hall like a zombie. I carefully step around the bodies while looking at each face to see if it’s my brother. The soldiers killed a lot of kids with a single shot to the middle of the forehead.

I finally make my way to the top of the stairway. Placing my hand over my mouth, I try to block out the blood-curdling smell in the air.

None of the bodies is Ali’s, but a lot are friends… friends from my village, and children from my classes.

At the bottom of the stairs, there are two hallways. One is the entrance to the school, and the second leads to the gym.

I can see through the window that there are soldiers leaning against the door smoking. I clench my fists. They’re just standing there enjoying a fucking smoke after killing all the children like nothing has happened?! Those fucking bastards!

Peeking through a window, I see female students and teachers all huddled together in the far corner of the gym. There are about thirty of them sobbing and hiding behind each other with their heads facing toward the floor.

Across the gym, row upon row of boys are lined up, kneeling down with their hands behind their bowed heads.

Soldiers are pacing back and forth. It won’t be long before they spot me if I’m not careful. I need to move and get a better look to see if I can find Ali. But what am I going to do if I see him? I stand no chance against all these soldiers.

At the side of the gym is the coaches’ office. I’ve been in it a few times when the new soccer season started. I start to make my way over. This is a risky move because there is no way of telling whether there is anyone in there. But I have to find Ali.

The office was only added on to the gym a few years ago, and still has the old gym fire door that not many people know is there. It’s my only choice.

Slowly, I open the door.

My heart thumps so loudly, I feel like it’s going to give me away. There’s no one in here, thank God.

The office is small. There’s a shelf filled with medals and sports equipment. There’s the fire door with old paint buckets in front of it. I slowly move them under the shelf and out of the way in case I need to get out.

I step silently behind the coach’s desk and creep over to the window. I don’t want to look, but I have to. I keep my head low so I can just see out, but they can’t see me. I quickly scan the room for the soldiers so I know where they are at all times.

There are around twenty soldiers in the gym. I wonder how many more are outside. There are about the same number of boys kneeling on the ground in front of the soldiers.

I scan the faces of the terrified boys, but I can’t find Ali. Where the hell is he? Then suddenly someone moves his head a fraction, and I see him…
Ali
! My brother is alive, and he’s in there with them! I have always wanted to be like my big brother -- he is brave and kind, and he is friends with everyone. Now there he is, kneeling in front of the soldiers. How dare they make him kneel?!

The top section of the window is open, and I can just make out the voices from the gym. “So, men, which of you wants to join us?”

I know that voice – it’s the captain who was speaking to Heen in the bathroom. “You are no longer boys. You do not need your parents’ permission to join our brotherhood!” The captain’s forceful words echo through the gym and bounce off the walls. What is he talking about, ‘join our brotherhood’?

The boys continue to kneel on the ground, and no one answers. “Who is with me?” The captain is getting angry.

“Answer the captain when he speaks to you!” shouts a soldier as he kicks one of the boys in the back with his oversized boot. The boy crumples down to the ground, still with his hands behind his head as he lets out a whimper of pain.

The captain walks over to him. “Stand up!”

The boy jumps to his feet. He is the same height as the captain, and they stare at each other.
Look away, look away
, I silently chant. But his eyes are locked in and crippled with fear.

“Heen, kill him. We have no use for children!”

Suddenly, an ear-splitting
BANG
echoes through the gym, and I jump back in shock. The girls’ high-pitched screams pierce the air.

“STOP this screaming. Are you all children? Do you all want to die?

I do not care if you are male or female, the next person to scream or cry will die!” the captain yells. The gym falls instantly silent. Everything feels unreal, like a weird daydream.

“I will ask one more time, who wants to join me?” screeches the captain.

I look out the window, hoping to see Ali. The captain is furiously marching back and forth as the room stays silent, all waiting for more horror to unfold.

Ali slowly raises his head when the captain walks past him; he looks at me... he knows I am here. His hazel, caring eyes are staring at me like the whole world has gone, and it is just the two of us.