Chapter 3: Woods, Part 1
1170 Words
The blond boy who saved my life landed beside me in the bushes with a humph as the air rushed out of his lungs. I reached for him, hoping he was still alive. He had a dazed look on his face, but he was okay, so I pulled him behind the jade bushes, ducking down. Outside the school were military personnel, but they didn't look like our military. It was an insurgent army of some kind, wearing camouflage outfits with the same red bandanas folded and tied around their heads, just like Hadi.
Panicked students ran out the front door of the school without thinking and their bodies writhed as the gunmen shot them down in cold blood. Their bodies looked like they were being electrocuted as blood spurt from their backs. I watched in horror as Hadi was joined by other gunmen of all nationalities. Soon, many of my classmates were lying dead upon the ground.
As I took in the scene, the school I came to love had turned into a war zone within a matter of minutes. And all I could do was to ask myself, why?
Tears stung my eyes as I took in the scene, hiding behind a bush. The insurgents entered the school and I could hear bombs and gunfire going off in other parts of the city.
"Come on!" the boy yelled, having regained his breath, and was pulling my arm again. "Now's our chance!"
We stayed behind the bushes and carefully moved to the back of the school. We ducked down when a camouflage jeep drove by. Then we made a run for it with some other students toward the nearby woods when a sudden burst of gunfire went off and I felt someone fall to the ground behind me. A painful cry escaped their lips as I felt something wet spray my back. Panicked, I turned to see who it was.
"Don't look back! Keep running!" the boy's voice shouted behind me.
I didn't turn around again, but ran straight for the woods. We ran a distance before we stopped, then ducked behind a fallen log, sure we weren't seen. We waited a minute, but no one had followed us.
Tears slid slowly down my face as I watched students jump from the second story of the school. My breath caught as I helplessly watched the insurgents shoot most of them as soon as they landed on the ground. Some were shot in mid-air. One boy grabbed a nearby rifle and shot back, taking down two before they splattered his brains across the side of the school.
The boy who pulled me to safety wrapped his arms protectively around my shoulders. I tried to brush him off as tears stung my eyes, but his strong arms pulled my head to his shoulder. He stroked my hair as he let me cry silently into his shirt. A few other kids made it to the woods, too, and the boy with me motioned them toward us. That was when I noticed tears in his eyes, as well.
I kept seeing Brandon in my mind's eye, bravely taking down Hadi in the face of death. Fresh tears coursed down my face at the memory. And what about my family? Little Timmy? Would they be safe from this?
I sat up. With shaking hands, I wiped my eyes on the sleeve of my blood splattered white blouse. For the first time, I was able to actually see this boy beside me. I didn't know him; he was a new boy who just started going to our school. He was in a few of my classes, but I never caught his name. His hair was blonde and cropped short, his skin carried a good tan, and his shirt hinted at well defined muscles underneath. His eyes were deep pools of emerald green, hinting at hidden secrets. Any other time, I would have thought he was nice looking, but I forced myself to push the thought aside.
"Are you hurt?" he asked as his eyes searched mine. Blood was splattered on his shirt, as well.
"I'm good." Then, I amended, looking away, "As good as can be expected. How about you?" I looked up at him again, seeing the blood splattered across his shirt. It was hard to tell if it was his or not. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine," he replied, concerned. "Here, let me," he said, reaching for a clean corner of his white shirt tail, and wiped my cheek. "You have blood on your face."
"I'm fine," I said, pulling away. I looked at my white shirt spattered with the specks of the bright crimson blood of my classmates. Fresh tears sprang from my eyes, falling onto my shirt, mixing with their blood, as the memory of Brandon throwing himself at the gunman filled my mind again. My shoulders shook and my breath quickened. I could feel myself falling apart, now in the safety of the woods.
"Hey, Derek," Trevor said breathlessly, running toward us, and then ducked quickly behind our log. He was a brunette boy and heavily muscled. "You made it out."
"Yeah," the blond boy beside me answered, not taking his concern-filled eyes off me. So, his name was Derek.
"What do you think this is all about?" Trevor asked, wiping sweat and blood from his face.
Derek shrugged.
I was still shaking, but remembered something about those last moments in the classroom. Recovering myself, I said, "Hadi was in our classroom and the last thing he said was, 'Jihad'. In fact, he yelled it."
"Oh, go back to crying!" Trevor spat in my direction, disgusted.
"Hey, don't talk to her that way," Derek said through gritted teeth. "If you have a problem with her, then you have a problem with me."
"Oh, so now you're defending her? She's being a baby! Look at her!" Trevor bellowed, pointing in my direction.
"Go to hell!" I spat, quickly regaining what was left of my composure.
"You first."
"Hey, hey!" Derek interrupted, looking back and forth between us. "Let's not forget that we're all on the same side here." He looked at Trevor, and added, "We need to stick together, and that means treating each other as equals."
"Yeah, right," Trevor retorted, rolling his eyes.
A moment later, one of the insurgents carrying a rifle stepped around the school and looked toward us. I was sure he spotted us. Derek motioned for us to be quiet as the guard leaned toward our direction, squinting, trying to see through the dense foliage as he inched closer.
"Now you've done it!" I mouthed to Trevor. I always thought he was a jerk; now it was confirmed.
Trevor looked at me with unabashed fury. Derek held a silent hand to his lips, looking at us. We ducked down lower behind the log as the guard moved closer. He didn't look much older than us.
We knew it was too late to run. We were sitting ducks.
- Writer
