War Kids (12 page)

“Sorry, kid, there’s no room. Look,” the man says, pointing to the main section of the truck. It is full, but I feel like they could squeeze more in.

From the corner of my eye, I can see Zak. He’s on the driver’s side and about to take the man's keys. I knew this idea would work! I smile to myself.

“You could fit more back there,” I say, trying to keep them distracted. “Some of these kids can sit on their parents' knees.”

“What are you doing?” The driver spots Zak just as he gets the keys. “Give those back!” he yells. He begins to get out of the truck. He is a large man and looks strong.

I run to the front of the truck at the same time, taking my gun from my pants and pointing it directly at the driver.

“SIR, GET BACK IN THE TRUCK!” I yell as loudly as I can. Everyone stops what they are doing. The driver is frozen on the step with his door open. The passengers are staring at me with open mouths, unable to process what is unfolding. Even Zak looks at me, stunned, and then he smiles.

I like the power the gun gives me – I feel alive.

“Sir, please get back in your truck,” Zak says to the driver.

The man moves slowly and does as he’s told. By this time, I’m standing next to Zak. “Sir, as the lady said, we need to get a pregnant woman on your truck,” Zak continues. “I have managed to get her this far, but I need your help. I don’t want anyone to get hurt. We cannot fight each other.”

The man is staring at Zak and me, trying to comprehend that he is being held up by two kids. He looks into the back of the truck, checking to see if there is any room.

“Okay, go get her!”

Oh, thank God!!

“But hurry! We’ll all be dead if the soldiers get us!” he adds, fear in his eyes.

He’s right; we don’t have much time. The next truck will be by in a few minutes.

“Zak, you run and get them. I’ll be fine,” I say, waving my gun in the air. Zak nods and takes off running down the street. I hear movement in the truck as people shuffle around to make more room. Everyone falls silent, and time slows down while I wait for him to get back.

The driver begins to walk toward me.

“Get back in the truck!” I yell.

“Girl, give me the gun,” he says. “A child’s hand is no place for a gun. Don’t worry, your friends are fine. We have room for them. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Sir, you are incorrect to worry about me. You should be worried about yourself,” I sternly announce. I point the gun directly at him, but he continues to move
. Stupid man
! I raise my arm and point the gun to the side, aiming for the side mirror.

I continue to eyeball the driver, and then I pull the trigger.
BOOM, CRACK!

The bullet hits the side mirror and falls to the ground. The passengers leap away with fear and shock on their faces. The driver doesn’t move… it’s as if the gunshot turned him into a statue. He lowers his body into the seat, surrendering to me.
This is better!

“Now, sir, that was a warning shot. You will not get another. Do you understand?” I ask him. “Do you understand?” I repeat, louder.

“I understand!” he yells. “They had better hurry up or you will need to gun down the soldiers!”

GERARD

15 years ago

“Gérard, oh my God, I’m so happy you are here.” Mia throws her arms around me, and I cradle her tiny body close to mine.

“I’ll give you two a moment together,” León says, as he leaves the hotel living room and goes into the bedroom.

“Oh Mia, what have you done, what did you volunteer for?” I ask her.

She pulls away from me and stares into my eyes.
Oh, fuck, I’ve pissed her off already!

“Shit, sorry, you know I worry about you,” I quickly add.

Thankfully, Mia’s face softens up. “Gérard, you know I had the same training as you, and that there is no better spy than me. You don’t need to worry,” Mia tries to reassure me. “Also I didn’t
voluntee
r for this; it was my idea and my mission. I requested you and León.”

I think of her with Abulafia and a rage consumes me. Mia sees the angry look in my eyes and winces.

“Gérard, don’t be cross with me. We all have special skills, and this is mine.”

Fuck, she’s making it worse.
Is her “special skill” getting men into bed? How many others have there been?

“That came out wrong,” she says and glances away. “But you know what I mean. I would never ask you how many people you have killed.”

She has a point, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Jesus, even I’ve stopped counting how many people I’ve killed.

“What’s the plan then?” I ask. “How quickly can we get you out?” This is the only way I can rescue her from her stupid mission!

“León, can you please join us?” Mia calls. León is out here within a few seconds; it’s clear he’s been listening at the door.

I shake my head at him as he walks in. “What?” he asks.

“You know what! Anyway, Mia has a plan to get the hell out of here.”

“Hi, León,” Mia says. They have an odd relationship; León is always very shy and quiet around her. I think he fancies her and is pissed that I got in first.

“Hi, Mia,” León replies quietly.

“Less of this chit chat. What’s the plan?” I ask impatiently.

Mia scowls at me. “Abulafia will be leaving for the airport tomorrow. Kenyan officials have informed him that he has to leave the country by 7 pm tomorrow, because after that point they will not protect him. There will be three cars: Abulafia in the first, the Kenyan Ambassador in the second, and then more members of his group in the third. Each car will have an undercover Turkish special agent. You two will drive the first two cars to the airport and hand Abulafia over to the Turkish special agent team.”

León and I nod. The plan sounds straight forward enough so far.

“Kenyan special security has already been placed in these cars. I asked that you two be assigned to the mission, because I trust you. The Kenyan special security will give you uniforms and brief you on the assignment. If you have any questions, please speak with them. I have to go; Abulafia cannot know I am here.”

With that, Mia leans in and kisses me.

“Mia, please be careful,” I whisper as my chest tightens.

She gives me a coy smile. “Always.”

ZAK

We stop running, frozen in our tracks. That was a gunshot.

No, Jada! I have to get to her!

“Haytham, get your mother and sister to the truck,” I say, then I sprint back to Jada. I shouldn’t have left her. What was I thinking?

I get to the corner of the road, terrified of what awaits me there. I cannot bear to see anyone else I know dead. I just can’t bear it!

The truck is still there. The doors are closed, just as I left them. There are no soldiers… no signs of trouble. Everything is as it was. So why was there gunfire?

I see Jada standing by the door aiming her gun at the driver.

“Jada, what was that? You okay?” I ask frantically.

She motions to the side view mirror. “I’m fine. Had to fire a warning shot. He tried to get out of the truck,” Jada says, still pointing the gun toward the driver. She’s using the gun like she’s pointing her finger. It looks so natural in her hand, like she’s been trained to use it. Just who is this girl?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Jada asks me. I hadn’t realized I was staring at her.

“Kids, we have to go,” the driver says impatiently. “Where’s the pregnant lady? We’re running out of time!”

He is right.

In the distance, I can see them coming, thank God. Haytham is carrying Waliyah and trying to support his mother, plus carrying the bags. I run over to help him.

“Give Waliyah to me,” I say when I reach them. Haytham passes Waliyah to me, and I take the bag from him as well. Haytham is strong, but he is carrying too much. “I will get her to the truck and come back for you,” I yell, as I run on ahead.

“What’s this? I thought you said a pregnant woman. This is a kid.”

“She has a daughter and a son. They will be coming with us.”

He frowns. I can tell he’s unhappy, but there’s nothing he can do about it. “Okay, okay. Hurry up, they will be here soon.”

I place Waliyah in the back of the truck with her bags. Haytham and his mother are just behind me. Haytham is dripping with sweat and breathing heavily. Sahar is panting, obviously in great pain.

“Jada. Jada, my dear,” Sahar gasps.

Jada moves to the side of the truck, her gun still on the driver, with a serious look on her face. She glances toward Sahar.

“Jada, my dear, thank you so much,” Sahar continues. “We just met, and you saved our lives. If I have a girl, I will call her Jada. If I have a boy, he will be called Zak. God bless you; have a safe trip to the camp.” With that, Sahar blows a kiss to me and steps onto the truck. Haytham waves at me, smiling as he joins her.

“Kids, you are really brave and stupid!” the driver says. “I will get them to the camp safely. God bless you, and good luck.”

Jada nods to me, and I hand the keys over to the driver. Sahar is safe. I wish we were going with them. At least we got them out of here, and her baby will not be born in hell.

As the truck drives away, Haytham leans out and takes one last photograph of us. Will I see him again? I place my arm around Jada’s shoulders, as I used to do with Haytham.

“So who taught you to fire a gun?” I ask Jada. I still don’t know if I should be impressed or worried.

“My father,” she answers. I am happy with that reply. She is one of us.

“Do you have any other tricks?” I ask her.

“You will see,” she says, smiling.

I like her. A lot.

JADA

Zak is a really good leader. I see it firsthand after we wave goodbye to Haytham and his family.

Once we get back onto our street, we see that all the children are standing at the edge of the rooms with their shoes, jackets, and backpacks on.

They all knew he was coming back. They stand proud, like soldiers waiting for their leader to return for the next mission. They know he’s taking them in the right direction, and they all trust him. I trust him as well.

Huge smiles appear on their faces when they see us. Zak waves them all down from their rooms, and one after another, each child helps the others through the remains of the building.

Tilly dives over and gives her big brother a hug. He holds her tightly, as he is just as happy to see her. Then she runs over to me and hugs me, taking me by surprise. I stumble backwards, overcome by her weight. Zak looks at me and laughs.

“She’s a hugger, and you'd better get used to it,” he says.

For a moment it feels like Lucas hugging me. I hold on to her, grateful for the embrace.

All the children line up in front of Zak. He didn’t ask them to do it, so I guess it’s part of their routine. They all have their backpacks open, ready for inspection. What is he looking for? What’s happening?

Zak walks up to the first child. “Did you get some sleep?” he asks him.

“Yes, Zak. Thank you,” the boy answers. He looks to be around seven years old.

“What do you have for lunch? And what’s your extra meal?” Zak asks.

Oh, he is checking that all the children have food, how thoughtful.

Zak turns to me. “Jada, you will replace Haytham now that he’s gone, if that’s okay with you.”

“Yes,” I reply. What did I just agree to? I should’ve asked first.

Zak smiles like he is reading my mind. “Don’t worry, it’s not that hard. If Haytham could do it, you’ll be fine.”

“Okay, what would you like me to do?” I ask quickly.

“Will you please check that they have slept, are feeling okay, whether there are any wounds, and if they are clean and bandaged? Supplies are in that bag there. Make sure each child has enough food for two meals and enough water for tonight. Once we’re all done, we will leave.”

“Okay, Zak, will do,” I reply, walking over to the first child. When we’ve finished with the children, he comes back over to me.

“Did you sleep?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” I say.

“Let me see your hands.” I hold them out and turn them over. They’ve gotten better, and the scratches are fading.

“Did you get a chance to pack some food?” he asks.

“Yes.” I show him inside my bag, moving my gun out of the way. He looks up and winks at me.

“Water?”

“Check,” I laugh.

“Did anyone find anything useful in the rooms last night?” Zak asks everyone. Tilly speaks up.

“We found a first aid kit. I’ve added it to the bag. And a map – I placed that in your backpack. And the best thing we found was a bag of jelly beans!” she adds with a giggle.

She takes the candy bag from her pack and opens it up, letting everyone take a handful.

I place one in my mouth and slowly suck it, and place the rest in my pocket for later. Zak does the same. The younger children shovel the delicious, sugary treats in all at once.

“Okay, everyone, we are ready to go,” Zak says.

“One minute,” I protest. Everyone stops chomping their jelly beans and stares at me.

“Did you sleep?” I ask Zak, smiling. All the children resume enjoying their candy and snicker.

“A little… a new member joined our gang last night, and she snores!” he says, laughing.

What? I don’t snore
. I jab him in the ribs.

“Ouch! I asked you to warn me when you're about to do that!” He laughs again and leans to his side.

“Do you have food?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, showing me his stash.

“Water?”

“Yes.” He holds up his bottle and winks. It’s like the calm before the storm. Everyone is happily laughing, waiting…

“Okay, we are ready,” Zak says, and off we go.

Traveling with a group at night is a lot harder than I thought it would be. The rule is, if you can walk, you walk. You have to carry all your personal belongings with you.

After a few hours, I empty out some clothes and my extra shoes to make my bag lighter.

With all the abandoned buildings, it’s like having open shops everywhere; we can take what we need.

The problem with the little ones walking is that they are slow and grow tired very quickly. After an hour or so, they’re moving at a snail’s pace. The older kids have to carry them part of the way, or we just won’t get anywhere.

We try to keep it fun for them by giving them piggy-back rides and placing our backpacks on our fronts. We’re able to move more quickly for about an hour with the children on our backs. We are getting tired and need to sleep, but we’re still in the city.

Zak starts looking for a safe place for us to stop, shining the flashlight up and down the road. Our eyes adjust to the darkness after a few moments.

It’s risky using the light, since we could be spotted more easily. Zak holds the light and focuses it on one location.

“We hit gold,” he says happily. We all look over, and we realize he’s right. It’s a restaurant that is, miraculously, still standing, untouched by the bombs. My mouth begins to water as I wonder what types of food it might have. This is one of those high-end restaurants that I’ve never been in… the kind of place that parents would go to celebrate their wedding anniversary.

“Okay, Jada and I will go in and check whether it’s safe. Everyone stays together and out of sight,” Zak tells the group. He looks over to me. “You ready?”

Born ready!

“Yes, let’s do it.”

Zak walks to the restaurant window and cups his hand to try to see through the dirty pane. He stands there for a moment, waiting to see if there is a change in the shadows.

I do the same on the other side. It’s hard to see inside, but it looks empty. I look at Zak and nod. We move to stand next to each other, ready to go to the front door. Zak pushes down on the handle and pulls it open. Something rings.

Oh no, they have a bell on the door
!

We freeze and Zak quickly grabs the bell, muffling the sound. We glance around and, fortunately, cannot see anyone. I squeeze under Zak’s arm and slide into the small gap between the door and frame. Zak repositions his arm and slides in through the door, slowly closing it behind us.

“That was close,” he says, sweeping his hand across his face. He shines his light around the restaurant. It’s empty, thank God.

“We need to check the kitchens, the bathroom and any other areas,” I tell him, and he agrees. I head to the lady’s bathroom, and Zak goes to the men’s. We both move quickly. Zak looks a little pained when he reappears.

“Are you okay? Was there someone in there?” I ask. He looks down at the ground; it’s odd how quickly he can go from looking like a brave man, to a seemingly scared kid, in the blink of an eye.

I walk over to him, place my hand under his chin, and lift it up so his eyes are looking into mine. He does have nice eyes. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing. There’s no one in there, just bad memories...you know.”

Oh, it must be something to do with what Haytham told me; we’ve all seen so many horrors. I don’t think any of us are ready to talk about it.

I place my arms around him and hug him like a mother would. He holds me tightly, and it feels nice. With the war breaking out and having to leave school, I’ve not had a lot of experience with boys, and I’m not exactly sure what to do here. But this feels right.

“It’s okay, we all have bad memories. I’m here for you.” I kiss him on the forehead.
Jesus, do you want to be his mother or girlfriend?
He continues to hug me a little more tightly.

I’ve never kissed anyone before, only my family.

We stand there for a moment with our arms around each other’s waist, looking into each other’s eyes, not knowing what to do next.

Zak’s eyes twinkle, and creases in their corners begin to form. I look down, then back up at him, and he has an adorable smile on his face. I turn into a silly little school girl, and butterflies dance in my stomach. Leaning forward, he kisses me back on my forehead and takes my hand.

Damn! That’s it?

“Come on, let’s check out the kitchen. The children will be wondering what’s happening,” Zak says, laughing. I’m so glad it is dark. I know my cheeks are red.

The moment is gone… no kiss for me.