Attacked by the Past

 

Abigail was dancing in the rain. Her gown spun majestically as she flung herself into the air, did a twist and landed on the balls of her toes. Her long, dark, hazel hair flicked from side to side, and her perfect hourglass figure seemed to sway in the breeze. She was beautiful, Joseph thought to himself. She glanced up from beneath her frayed eyelashes and, noticing Joseph, blushed and gave a shy smile. Mesmerized by her charms, Joseph smiled back, a feeling of elation overcoming him in her presence. 

 

 

 

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you all over. Where have you been?” Joseph’s brother’s deep rich voice was unmistakable. Smiling, he sat down next to Joseph and ruffled his hair. Joseph realized how similar they looked. They shared the same jet black hair and hard chiselled face, inherited from their father, a well built, 5”9 tall Israeli businessman who had always remained aloof from the family. Joseph remembered his childhood �" coming home from school, sweating crazily like any hormone filled teen, grabbing the milk from the local bazaar, only to be met with the brick wall of his father’s passive voice. Joseph knew that his father had loved him, but he never had felt that connection between them. Unfortunately, he had passed away when Joseph was only 15. The doctors had said it was cancer.

 

 

 

“I don’t know. I just woke up and I was here”. Joseph was puzzled. He had no memory of arriving in the area, and had absolutely no idea how long he had been sitting in the same place for. Gliding his hand through the lush grass, Joseph glanced over his surroundings. He was in a small paddock �" agricultural land used to herd cattle in, telling by the small balls of dung that spotted the otherwise untarnished region. A mosquito buzzed past Joseph’s nose, and he instinctively swatted it away. Malaria was dangerous around these parts, especially in this weather.

 

 

 

“That’s odd. You must have fallen asleep”

 

 

 

“Yeah, I guess so.”

 

Silence filled the air as the two brothers sat content. It wasn’t awkward by any means; indeed both of them found it pleasing as they slowly inhaled the fragrant smell of flora after rainfall.  Abigail seemed to have disappeared into thin air; Joseph looked around, but she was nowhere to be seen. Alarmed, he rose from the grass and shook off the straw-like debris that had accumulated on him.

 

 

 

“Where are we?” Joseph enquired, with an ever emerging hint of panic in his voice. He surveyed the landscape once more, beginning to make out familiar shapes. He had been here before, he was sure of it. That barbed wire fence...he had seen it.........somewhere...

 

 

 

“Ya’Bad, where else did you think you were?”

 

 

 

Joseph froze on the spot. Ya’Bad was the old name for the Rift. This used to be an old farming community before the X1 had arrived and plundered the town. Joseph remembered the horrible fighting. For a month, the Daily Telegram had covered the story as it’s headline. Although the casualty rate was not exceptionally high, the use of guerrilla warfare and the unexpectedness of the attacks had generated a lot of controversy and media coverage. Joseph had lost his aunt. Haunting memories of his mother weeping played over and over in his head.

 

“WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE? LET’S GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE WE’RE GONNA GET KILLED!” Joseph screamed at his brother as he ran towards the barbed fence that he had so oft traversed when he was a kid.  If they ran now they could make it before the rebels came. Before......

 

“No.” Joseph’s brother’s voice was loud and clear

 

It was the same memory again. 

 

Joseph flicked open his watch. 11. 27 AM. There were only 5 minutes left.

 

“Please Ibrahim. Don’t” A single tear rolled down Joseph’s cheek and with a soft platter sound landed on a leaf below.

 

“Joseph, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time. I was 14 and you were 9 when the X1 took the Rift. Back then, I saw it as an act of hatred, of terrorism. But I was wrong, Joseph, so very wrong. The X1 are not our enemies, they are our friends. It is the government who hates us, who makes us work like slaves, toiling in the dust we were born in and the dust we are entitled to. The X1 merely took back what was THEIRS, Joseph. Please try and understand, I need to leave now.  There is a call in my heart I cannot ignore and I must go now. It’s time to bring those b******s down. “

 

Joseph’s face was smudged with tears. Ripping a piece of fabric off his shirt, Ibrahim wiped his tears away and smiled that warm, comforting smile Joseph had come to love. Nestling himself inside the dip of Ibrahim’s neck, Joseph sobbed.

 

“Don’t cry for me Joseph. Every man has a duty, a purpose to fulfil in their life, and this is mine. The X1 will be here in 2 minutes. They are planning a siege on the magistrate’s courthouse in Jerusalem later this week, and I intend to join them. Tell Mother I loved her, and remember always Joseph �" There are forces you don’t see.”

 

WHOOOOOOSH!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

The whistle of a bomb dropping jolted Ibrahim and Joseph and they ducked for cover under the milk barn.

 

“What the f**k just happened?” Joseph laboured for each word, his breath being knocked out by the impact.  As he looked out, he saw that the eastern section of the paddock was now in flames, the wheat crops burning and ashes billowing into the atmosphere.  A police jeep had been flipped upside down and the brothers saw the lifeless body of a local officer catch on fire.

 

“Ibrahim?”

 

There was total silence apart from the crackling of the bomb blaze.

 

“IBRAHIM?!” Joseph yelled as he frantically searched for his brother.

 

The sound of a gunshot told Joseph where he needed to look. Peeking through two planks of timber, .Joseph squinted as he struggled to see what was happening. Finally, his vision cleared, and he gasped.

 

Ibrahim, his brother, his precious, loving brother, was walking through the paddock towards a man dressed in black rags. The man sat on a tree stump with his legs slightly spread apart and in between them laid a dangerous looking machine gun. Joseph shivered as the man got up and did a quick scan of the area. Looking around, Joseph noticed a dead body with blood pooling around it. That must’ve been where the gunshot came from, he thought. His heart beat frantically in his chest. Ibrahim got closer with every heartbeat, and Joseph let out a small whimper as he realised the danger he was in. The police would arrive soon, and it was not uncommon in Shaked that the police shoot everyone in the area if the crime was related to a rebel attack.

 

Then the man saw Ibrahim. Screaming, he pulled out his machine gun and crazily began shooting bullet upon bullet in his direction. Joseph let out a shriek as one of them hit his brother in the arm, and as he dropped Joseph bolted across the paddock towards him.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?! RUN!” Ibrahim lay panting beneath a hay bale, his shirt stained cherry red and beads of perspiration dotting his forehead.

 

“I can’t leave you like this. I ain’t moving anywhere” Tears streamed from Joseph’s face. He clambered to his knees and rummaged his pockets for his phone. Panic clinched Joseph as he realised that he had forgotten it at home. There was no way of reaching any medical help now. As he caressed his brother’s pale face, Joseph contemplated possible escape routes. Cutting through the Rift was no easy task, and with his brother injured, would be a lot harder. 

 

Joseph examined his surroundings. The man was now prowling around the paddock, his gun raised and a furious expression on his face. As Joseph took a closer look, he noticed a detail he hadn’t caught earlier; on the man’s shoulder were tattooed two crisscrossed arrows �" the symbol of the X1.

 

“Joseph. You can’t do this anymore. You have to let me go. ” The same assuring voice that had guided him through his life now haunted him. Inside, Joseph knew that all of his efforts would be futile. Ibrahim’s time had come. Joseph reluctantly let go of his protector, the island of serenity in his life, and began to sob.

 

Ibrahim grabbed his injured shoulder and pushed himself up. Joseph heart pounded like a juggernaut in his chest. Making the surrender sign with his hands, Ibrahim slowly progressed towards the man. Swinging around, the man aimed his gun at Ibrahim, but hesitated to pull the trigger, seeing the universal symbol for peace.

 

“I want to help you” Ibrahim spoke calmly and firmly.

 

“How I trust you?”  English was obviously not the man’s first language.

 

“If I wasn’t helping, I wouldn’t give you an opportunity to kill me.”

 

This, it seemed, was all it took to join the X1, as a smile soon spread across the man’s face.  Extending his hand in a warm gesture, the man spoke again

 

“Welcome to the X1. Ignore the broken English before; I need to pretend to be a local so the police don’t notice anything unusual. Sorry about the arm, I have to be careful about government spies.  My name’s William �" what’s yours?”

 

Grinning, Ibrahim introduced himself to the man. After what seemed like an eternity, he called out.

 

“Joseph, come here! Its fine now, the coast is clear.”

 

Joseph ran out from behind the bale and embraced his brother.

 

“I thought you’d die. You scared the crap out of me.”

 

William reappeared with a first aid kit, and Ibrahim winced as he poured antiseptic over the affected area. Joseph cringed. The skin was badly ruptured, and patches of purple hued skin surrounded the wound. William began to apply a cream to clot the blood. Joseph noted that William worked efficiently and skilfully, a man with experience.

 

Suddenly, a gunshot resonated through the air. Twirling around, Joseph and Ibrahim found themselves face to face with Senior Constable Azam, head of the police squadron in Shaked. A wheezing sound made them look back.

 

William stared at them, blinking his eyes rapidly in shock. Glancing down at his stomach, Joseph gasped. He had been shot, and blood oozed out of his wound. There was no way he could survive, even Joseph knew that. As Joseph watched on, William began to palpitate, his lips trembled, and he seemed like he was about to vomit. Finally, he collapsed over onto the paddock, dead.

 

“He deserved it.” Azam’s voice was gruff.

 

“No.” Tears covered Ibrahim’s face. Here was a man bereft of his dream, his thirst. Suddenly, his tears turned to fury and, picking up William’s machine gun, Ibrahim flung himself at the policeman.

 

“You b*****d. It’s because of people like you that Israel is still fighting with Palestine. Get out of my country” Ibrahim screamed. Joseph tried to pull him away, but he wouldn’t budge. He tightly held the policeman in a choke hold, and as Azam struggled to breathe, Ibrahim roared in mourning for his dead friend.

 

Bang. Ibrahim’s body dropping was the final thing Joseph saw before he passed out.

 

“GET YOUR BREAKFAST CHEAP! TWO SHEKEL’S ONLY! COME AND GET YOUR BREAKFAST!”

 

Joseph jumped out of bed. His heart throbbed and as he looked in the mirror he realised he had been crying in his sleep. A bitter taste filled his mouth as he thought yet again about that fateful day when his brother had been shot by Azam. That day, he had sworn revenge on the X1 and Azam, both who he held accountable for his brother’s death.

 

Suddenly, the events of the previous days rushed back at him. The university....The bodies...Abigail dying, it all returned. Joseph felt sick. He ran outside onto the street and bought the Daily Telegram. The headline was about the drought passing through Jerusalem that month. Hurriedly skipping through the newspaper, Joseph was horrified. They hadn’t covered the story. How could this be possible? 300 students, murdered in cold blood, and not one line. Not one f**king line in the whole newspaper. Infuriated, and thinking of Abigail, Joseph called the contact number printed on the screen.

 

“Welcome to the Head Office of the Daily Telegram. Unfortunately, we are presently unable to take your call. Please leave a small message after the beep with your full name and phone number and we’ll get back to you. Thanks.”

 

 

Joseph hung up. He didn’t need that bullshit, and there was no way the newspaper would bother replying anyways. Sighing, he was about to get breakfast when a line caught his eye.

 

““There are forces you don’t see. They rule the darkness. They start wars. They ruin lives. CALL for more information”

 

It was the same advertisement from a few days back, but this time it struck him subtly.

 

There are forces you don’t see. Joseph had heard those words before. He thought for some time, and then it hit him.

 

His brother had said those exact same words to him the day he had died.