The Making of a Heartbroken Boy | ✔️

CHAPTER 3

He heard the hard crack of a broken bone and withdrew his rifle, drawing it close. When Ivan looked up, he saw Ali - unconscious - and the Japanese men already trying to tie him up and gag him.

Despite Ali's limbs drooping motionless, the men still struggled to wrap the cloth around his head and hands. He raised his sights, and Ivan fired at them.

One captor fell and the other looked up.

A second time, and again. Again.

The last of the men dropped to the ground and another came out of the bush. He aimed and fired again.

Ali sat unconscious still, but the men around him had either been wounded or fled. If I stay here, they won't find me, he mused. He called me commander. Wanted to kill me to save the commander.

The men here are just as loyal as their country.

But for Ivan it wasn't even a question. Ivan slunk over the log. Sitting, he held onto Ali, and pushed away from the log with his good leg, gradually nestling them both in the thick foliage. It was slightly uphill, and as he realized he began to panic at his lack of strength. They would be back any second, and he was still half-exposed.

A bristle of bushes caught his attention. They were coming from where the soldiers had run off from.

Ivan began pulling with his hand while pushing with his leg.

A few more inches and he could pull his legs in and be completely hidden.

The swish of leaves became louder and louder. He pushed once more and was beneath the leaves, letting out a quiet sigh of relief. "We're safe," he whispered, knowing that Ali was still unconscious. He let his breathing slow and the leaf-bristling came closer.

But when he squinted to watch for any visitors, he realized one thing and his breath caught. His bad leg was still laying in the open.

The shuffling came closer.

Carefully, he began to draw it in, wincing in pain. He almost had it in the shadows when the pain was unbearable, so he hoisted himself up on his elbow and kept pulling it in with his other hand.

The shuffling stopped, and so did he. The leaves began to shift in the silent breeze and he let out a soft breath. He dropped his hand near his ankle and let his head fall in relief.

A hand grasped his.

When he pulled away, the stranger released his hand, catching Ivan's ankle instead.

The man wrenched the ankle from the leaves, drawing Ivan into the open.

Pain shot up his leg and he let out a groan, while his hands flung up to grab some hold on the dirt as it fled beneath him.

Helplessly, he watched as his rifle sling caught on Ali's arm, dragging him as well until they were both flung between three enemy soldiers.

They tumbled into the dirt between the men, Ali face-down.

Seeing no other options, he began kicking at them all with as much strength as he could muster. He caught one in the knee, but the other two simply stepped back and waited for him to drain his energy. When he finally did, two more men emerged and they pulled his arms tight behind his back, a pop releasing from his shoulder.

He gritted his teeth and squinted his eyes. He watched Ali as they mildly gagged him and tied his arms.

An idea cleared in his mind.

He looked at Ali once more and drooped his eyes. He let his movements slur, feigning that he had lost too much blood. He threw a lazy kick but he let his leg swing carelessly until it caught the ground, where he left it stretched before him. He closed his eyes completely. The men began talking in their language, a bit of laughter mixed in until he could hear the shifting leaves ahead of him. Soon enough, they began to haul him too. If he was lucky, they thought he was unconscious and would find no need to torture or interrogate him.