The Suite Adult Life

August (12.4)

Jenin Refugee Camp

Cody had been to refugee camps before, the Jungle of Calais, Turkey, and even down to the detention centers at the Mexican border. He was only slightly prepared to see Jenin. Buildings were crumbling, a tent city with only the barest of necessities was situated in the middle. Over and over he heard stories of displacement from the Israeli government. The camp had seen an uptick of raids in the past few months. He could see why Carla didn't want to send him but there was something brewing. Cody could feel it hanging thickly in the air. There was a slight edge, an almost distrust, to the inhabitants demeanor.

He kept his position off to the side, letting the translator speak for them. Once those inside the camp understood who they were and why they were far more welcoming. They offered things that Cody knew they couldn't afford to give up. To give his team hospitality meant a reduction of their own rations. His counterparts told him that it was highly offensive to refuse so he took the smallest he could. The number one comment from the translator was that they all thought he was 'too skinny'. He smiled and laughed with them letting them know he ate plenty.

His assignment was only a few day embedment. That was all his publication was allowing him to be there so he had to use every moment he could. Which meant he immediately accepted the invitation his team had received for dinner. His nerves had been on edge all day, expecting another raid so he missed his gut telling him to leave. His colleagues didn't seem to have the same feeling and given their tenure they were the ones to trust. He felt woefully out of practice. So, the discussion and camaraderie took them far into the evening. Later than they had expected to stay.

Cody felt the tremble before he heard the piercing screams of the missile. A cloud of dust and debris enveloped the street as the first mortar made contact. Thankfully Cody's well-honed survival skills propelled him into action - ducking behind a makeshift barricade shielding himself and the other journalists as the chaos unfolded around them.

The scene resembled a nightmarish collage of destruction and despair. Buildings had crumbled, smoke billowed into the sky, and the cries of the injured howled in the air. Cody's camera, always an extension of his hand, clicked away, capturing the harsh reality. In the midst of the chaos, he documented the faces of anguish, the desperation etched into the lines of each survivor's face. His arm was being pulled towards the escape. Their bright vests and hard hats easily identified them as the press but that hadn't stopped the assault from the Israelis in the past.

He saw rather than heard one of the men telling him it wasn't worth it. Israeli tanks were rumbling through the camp, deafening him. They were there too quickly for this not to be a planned attack. If he could get proof that Israel attacked Pallestine unprovoked it would set the world on fire. This wasn't Hamas territory. They were across the country where Hamas didn't hold power like in Gaza. Any sense of self-preservation disappeared in his quest to get just one more shot. Just one, he told himself, and he'd be free to go.

However, as he focused on framing the next shot, a shockwave rippled through the air. Cody felt a force that seemed to lift him off his feet. The world blurred into a cacophony of fire and sirens as he lost consciousness.