The Trial

Chapter 22 - Edited

A clearing in what should only be a wooded area reveals a settlement that shouldn't exist. A few nervous looks from those who call this place home glance our way as the car slows to a stop, and none I can see are wearing robes. Their clothing looks odd as I watch, and almost forget about the woman still slumbering at my feet; if it weren't for the strong stench.

This place looks vaguely familiar, but can't place it. The buildings and the people are like an echo of a dream I once had, but none of the events are coming back to me. Why can't I remember any of this?

Rabbi Solomon doesn't look at either of us as he speaks in a calming voice. "Wait here, and keep the doors closed until I get back. There are people hidden who will shoot. You're both safe as long as you stay in the car."

I wait until he gets out of the car before speaking to my driver in a hushed voice. "Any idea where are we?"

My driver keeps his head perfectly still as he speaks in a similar tone. "No idea. This place has to be anti-revolutionary, but can't tell you anything else. How's she doing?"

I glance down as I say, "Still out. I don't think she's waking up anytime soon."

Rabbis Solomon opens my driver's door, which startles both of us. "Help me get her out." His blank face turns towards me. "Just keep sitting there, state clerk three. They don't know you, and get a little jumpy with strangers."

I try to fight the desire to question him, but can't stop myself. "Where are we?"

His dark eyes hold mine for a moment. "You'll find out soon enough."

He's no longer in my line of sight as my driver gets out and closes the door behind him with a soft thud. My driver opens my door with great care, and help to get her out without getting shot, which isn't an easy task. Rabbi Solomon lifts her arms as he whispers to my driver, but I've no idea what he said. Other's come to help the woman as my driver closes the door with an unpleasant bang and follows behind, which leaves me in a state of watchful solitude.

I don't mind being alone with my thoughts. Under normal circumstances, there's pleasure in doing nothing other than think, but this is far from normal. The smell is enough to make my eyes water; while the chill starts to enter my bones. It's a tremendous struggle to not jump out and demand answers.

Have patience, and quit acting like a petulant child. You've dealt with worse than a cold car that stinks. Sit there, and don't do anything stupid. You heard Rabbi Solomon, and know exactly how serious this is.

Heavily armed people surround the car and every rifle's aimed at me. My life's in jeopardy as I search out some sign of a friendly face and find nothing even close to what I desire. Their faces are twisted with hatred for the state and I represent the state. It's a small wonder I'm still alive.