This is a bit of a shorter chapter. Enjoy - don't forget to comment and vote! :D
The sound of a bomb exploding awoke Joseph from his sleep. He quickly jumped out of the small tent that had been erected for him and, lifting the flap of the door, confronted the place of his nightmares.
He was in The Rift.
Joseph felt his stomach churning as he noticed the tree stump near the position Azam had shot his brothers. He felt a stab of pain in his left arm and he realized that he had been holding himself so tightly that his nails had cut into the flesh. The wound was deep, and it would scar. Recollections attacked Joseph but he ignored them. Now was not the time to mourn.
He looked around and gasped. The area was bustling with hundreds of people. Joseph cringed as he noticed one of his schoolmates pick up a giant tree log and efficiently transport it to the other side of the encampment, where some sort of blacksmith stable had been constructed. It was obvious that the X1 had grown from a small pocket of resistance to a group that could seriously mess with the government. Men, adorned in black, and armed with assault rifles, patrolled the area. Joseph noticed that the entire camp had been built in a valley, protected by two small hills, and camouflaged by the surrounding bushland. No wonder the police hadn’t been able to find them.
“I knew you’d come eventually.” The voice was soft, almost musical. Twirling around, Joseph found himself face to face with the man he had thought dead.
He gasped. William was a ghost of the strong, masculine presence he used to be. Reduced to an old, creaky wheelchair, he peered into Joseph’s eyes. Eyes, Joseph thought, that held experience of a world that had flipped in front of them.
“WILLIAM! I thought I’d never see you again. How the hell did you survive?”
William let out a small chuckle and his eyes sparkled as he spoke.
“Joseph. This is the f**king X1. Just because you don’t know about technology that allows a human being to fake their own death doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. “
Joseph laughed.
“It seems I have a lot to learn about you guys then.”
Then it all hit Joseph.
“WHERE’S SAMIR? “
William stared at Joseph quizzically.
“Who the hell is Samir?”
“I didn’t magically appear here Will. You know who Samir is.”
“The psycho driving the Nissan?”
“He’s not a psycho, and yes. We did come in the old Maxima”
“He had an emotional breakdown as soon as he entered the camp. Kept blubbering about that Constable Azam.”
“What?” Joseph exclaimed. “Where is he?”
“We took him to the nurse’s tent.”
“Take me there right now.”
William groaned. “I intended to show you around base camp today. I called you for a reason – the X1 needs your knowledge of legislature. Go see your friend later; you’ve got work to do.”
“I want you to take me to Samir right now.”
“Whatever. Wait here, I’ll send one of our girls up to escort you there.“ William pointed to a tent around 50m to their left. Burly, tall Israeli men patrolled the area – something important was happening there. “After you’re done, come over to that tent over there. We need to talk”
William clapped his hands and a short Israeli woman suddenly appeared behind his wheelchair. She began to slowly push him away when William called out.
“Joseph!”
“Yes?”
“I’d suggest you keep your stuff locked up. Some f*cked up shit goes on here.”
Joseph watched passively as William rolled away. The air was heavy with the smell of gunpowder and dust. How the hell did I end up here? Joseph thought. Indeed, only a week ago he was preparing vigorously for a law degree that he would never get. Would his sister ever get married? His life had changed, and he knew now that there was no going back. He was now, in the eyes of the government, a criminal. A part of the largest terrorist network in Israel. Joseph bit back tears.
“You’re Joseph, right?”
Joseph slowly lifted his head up. In front of him stood a tall brunette and he guessed that she was around 23 years old. She was wearing tattered leather boots, ripped jeans and a bloodied tank top. She had tattooed her name “Hadar” on her right forearm in bright red, next to the symbol of the X1, a standard practice for all rebels.
“What are you staring at?”
“What? Oh, nothing, nothing” Joseph felt blood rushing into his cheeks.
Hadar smirked.
“Name’s Hadar. Hadar Attali. They call me Bazooka around here. So don’t mess with me. ” She winked as she presented her outstretched arm to him.
Damn, this girl had personality, Joseph thought.
“So, Bazooka, how’d you end up in this place?” Joseph gestured around at the rebels.
“My parents tried to get me married to some complete arsehole so I ran away from home.” She replied nonchalantly “William found me on the streets a couple of years ago. I was a meth addict and had screwed up myself pretty badly. He saved me and I owe him for that.”
“Oh.”
“So...are we just going to sit around here or what? I haven’t got all day.”
“William told me you knew the way to Samir.”
“There he goes making me f**king tour guide again.” Hadar grumbled. “Yeah, follow me.”
They began to walk through the camp. Joseph noticed children, none older than the age of 6, carrying around assault rifles and grenades. A bitter taste of disgust filled his mouth.
“Why are those children carrying guns?”
“They’re part of the X1 Military Training School. Each of them was abandoned by their parents at birth. We stick a gun in their hands and tell them to fight. Give them something to live for.”
“That’s just horrible.”
She stopped in her tracks.
“Who the hell do you think you are? You and your little capitalist philosophy. All of you – sheep. Blindly following around what that dickhead of a government preaches. That’s what’s horrible, not us. We give these kids lives. All you would’ve done is turned them into propaganda machines. I don’t know why William took you in. Your brother was so much better.”
“What the fuck? How do you know about my brother?”
Hadar fell silent.
“HOW DO YOU KNOW IBRAHIM?”
A tremor shook through Hadar’s body. She glanced up and Joseph noticed tears in her eyes.
She spoke softly.
“How could I ever forget my own husband?”
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Teen Fiction"Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable." John. F. Kennedy. It was 2.30 in the morning. A blindfold covered Joseph's eyes. Not that it was of much use, it was pitch black anyway. A police siren wailed...
