Prologue
Jakob McHenry shot straight out of his bed with a cold sweat. His arm twitched as he shook his head trying to forget. He got out of his bed and paced around but it was still there. His ears ringed as the low curfew alarm was going on just outside his window. He slammed it shut but the ringing was still sounding off in his brain. He covered his ears and slammed his head against the wall. “Shut Up!!” He sprinted to the other side of his dark studio apartment room and almost tripped over his lamp. Into the closet he went, it was the only place in the room he felt safe. He turned on the light but remembered the electricity in the entire city was cut after eleven. So instead he lit his candle he kept in the closet. He looked at the shadows in his closet, but still no peace. The dream still burned in his head. He took his old wooden hunting rifle and clutched it to his chest. It was the only memory he had left of his father. Suddenly memories rushed into his head like a river. He was only 8 years old when it happened. He was in his moms grasp curled in a ball covered in a puddle of his own tears. He and his older sister had bawled until there were no tears to be made. The old TV flickered on the screen a horrible sight, the smoldering remains of the U.S. capital and a gray cloud of smoke whisping above it. Jakob only had a glance at it before closing his eyes in a mix of rage and sear terror, but had stuck in his brain. It had a small yellow cloud around it as debris started to fall. The Maryland fields and trees around it were incinerated. The river seamed to be cut in halve from the explosion. Suddenly the sobbing newscaster’s voice whimpered onto the airway. “The U.S.S.R. has just attacked the capital during the State of the Union. The Secretary of Defense Roger Hartsfield is now our commander in chief.” Jakob couldn’t take it anymore. “STOP!!” He burst out of his closet with his hand clutched onto his head with tears running down his face. He ran to the kitchen and threw out one of the drawers. He picked up silver knife and put it to his wrist but stopped. “I’m getting carried away.” He set down the knife and slowly walked away from it. He curled into a ball in the corner and whipped away his tears. “Not tonight.” Then he fell asleep with sirens in his ears.
Jakob woke up to the sound of his old fashion red metal rotary phone he had bought at a garage sale. He groaned as he slowly awoke to see the morning sun blaze in his eyes. It blurred his vision enough to make his eyes water to the point he had to rub them. He slowly got up with his entire body aching from sleeping on the parquet floor of his 5th floor studio apartment. He slowly walked to the phone half awake. “I’m coming,” he muttered to the phone. He slid some building models aside on his desk and grabbed the receiver. “Hello?” Jakob lazily said rubbing his eyes.
“Room inspection” a calm voice with a thick Russian accent came over the phone. Now this woke Jakob up.
“Excuse me?” Jakob stuttered out very surprised.
“Room inspection, Mr. McHenry, its noon.”
Jakob looked at his digital clock on his stove and sure enough it read 12:00 P.M., he almost dropped the phone. He had slept in nearly four hours.
“Sir, are you still there, you need to buzz me in, its Saturday and I have a lot of appointments.” The voice said more sternly.
Jakob stumbled to hit the buzzer and barely said to the person, “C-come right on u-up.” He didn’t even bother to hang up the phone when he rushed to the closet. He quickly through on a pair of blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt with a rather large stain on it, but Jakob didn’t care, at least he wasn’t in his boxers. He then grabbed the bottom of the back of his closet and flipped it around to conceal the hunting rifle and other banned items in the secret compartment he had created for these very room inspections. He then rushed to his TV and pulled out the black cable he had bought secretly that hooked him up to the BBC. He threw that also in the hidden compartment behind his closet when the doorbell rang. He tried to fix his crumpled brown hair and straighten his shirt as he walked briskly to the door. He opened his to find a young, blond, Russian man of about 25 with freckled scattered over his red cheeks. His pale skin was already wrinkling around his young eye obviously from the stress he experiences every day with rowdy Americans.
”Sorry to wake you.”
”Yay yay. Well, do your job.” Jakob said trying desperately to conceal that he was out of breath. As the man in his the dark U.S.S.R. sanctioned suit walked into the room Jakob tried to look like a “good citizen.” He turned his small TV to the Soviet News Center (the SNC) just to humor the inspector. The channel didn’t really show news but more of a funneled version of intense propaganda. No mention of failing to take over the resourceful rich South America or troops dying on the Allied front. Just a well dressed man praising his homeland and speaking of how the “Supreme Citizen” went from place to place or the results of the dog competition. To call it news really should be a grammar error.
“Excuse me sir, what is this?” The voice of the man startled Jakob slightly as he turned around slowly as his shirt made a brushing sound as he turned. Suddenly Jakob’s dark green eyes dilated and grew twice their normal size. The inspector was rolling his hands on the inside corners of Jakob’s closet. “Have you done any closet widening in here or something?”
“N-no,” Jakob barely stuttered. He knew if they saw any of the things in his in his closet would put him away for 5 years each, especially his old hunting rifle. He had kept it since he was 12 because it was the last thing left had of his father. Then he heard a thump. He wasn’t sure if it was the closet flipping or his heart skipping a beat but either way he was freaking out.
“What the hell?” As the inspector started to flip through the assortment of old weapons and allied newspapers Jakob racked his brain to think what to do. He had heard of the kind of things the prisons the Russians had set up did to the prisoners. They were crowded and very rough. If you stepped out of line whatsoever they would taze you, brand you, or something even worse. He even heard of whippings inside the prison if you did the slightest thing. They did that just to set an example. That’s when his adrenalin took over. Without thinking he slowly walked to his cabinet and grabbed the large silver knife he had taken out the previous night. He crept up to the inspector whose back was to him. He was a zombie to his racing heart that was controlling his brain with fear. Slowly he raised the knife above his head just as the inspector turned around his eyes widened and froze. Jakob paused for a second, closed his eyes, and his arm dropped. He dared to open his eyes just in time to see the man take his last breath. That’s when he blacked out.
Jakob slowly opened his blurred eyes trying to remember what he was doing. The sun was just going down to make a beautiful orange and pink streak across the horizon, but Jakob paid no attention to it. He remembered the inspector but couldn’t quite think of anything else. He stood up and walked to the sink of his bathroom and turned the silver knobs on full blast. He cupped some water in his hand and splashed some on his face. A crimson liquid started to drip down from his chin and hands into the sink. He looked at his hand to find them drenched in blood. He almost fell backwards just at the sight of it. He looked up to the mirror to find he had just drenched his face with the blood of his hand. He gagged and almost vomited at the sight of it as he grabbed his darkest wash cloth to clean his face. That’s when he remembered. “The knife and the- oh my God.” He slowly walked his way back into his room. Slowly he looked around the corner. He looked for only a second but it was more than enough. The inspector was in a pool of his own blood and what appeared to be urine. The silver knife was in his chest gleaming in the florescent light above it. The knife had hit the inspector’s heart killing him almost instantly. Now this made Jakob vomit for real this time. He wiped his mouth away just in time to black out again.
This time when Jakob woke up the room was pitch black and his wrist watch showed 3:00 a.m. He flipped the switch next to him but with no avail, the town power was shut off hours ago. He rubbed a part of his head he had hit when he blacked out as he walked to his closet. He couldn’t see the inspector clearly in the dark but the stench of death filled the room. He lit a candle that he kept in the closet with a Zippo lighter and walked to the living room. He sat in his favorite chair and thought. The fake leather rubbed against his arms as he stared at the ceiling deep in his mind. “What do I do?” he said to himself. “How can I cover this up? I can’t. Maybe, just maybe I need to get out of here, but how?” Then he remembered to people he had seen in the harbor. They were secretly taking boats and heading to non U.S.S.R. nations. “No, that can’t possibly work, could it? You could keep the coast in sight and get through the quarantine because your ship is so small and, no that’s ridicules. Then again, it’s my only hope.” Jakob stood up out of the chair. “I have to try.”
Chapter 1
Lines of picket signs went up and down the street in a vast ocean of protesters. The sound of their chants was loud enough to hear them several blocks down from Times Square. The protesters marched slowly and gracefully down the crowded street. There must have been more then 1.4 million people jammed into the thin New York streets as far as the eye could see. Even Jakob high up in his hotel couldn’t see where the line of people had started or where it ended. On the street joyful parents held small children on their shoulders as the child would have either been happy or scared out of his or her mind. Some of the protesters were old gentlemen with long, grey, wispy beards that looked as if they were about to head off Californi-way and hunt for gold. Others were enthusiastic teens holding their signs high as they could proudly show their eagerness to be part of history. Among the throngs of people were Jakob’s mom and his older sister Samantha. Jakob Wished with all of his heart that he could have been down there with them but he knew he couldn’t walk on the leg he had broke while jumping into a lake. He and his sister had found one outside of the city and thought it would be a great time to jump in. Samantha jumped first and cleanly slid into the water, however Jakob who went second wasn’t so fortunate. When he jumped in he went down in the water 4 feet at full speed when his leg collided with a stump. Now it was in a cast and Jakob was in crutches. Suddenly on the street new figures seemed to appear from nowhere. Men in military uniforms shouted to the people on the street to stop at once or that they would have to stop them. That’s when Jakob saw the people trying to tear down the U.S.S.R. Flag off of the capitol building. Suddenly a rock soared though the air and struck a military official square in the face. That’s when all hell broke loose. Gunfire started to fill the street.
Jakob twisted in his hammock when he heard his blue wristwatch go off on his table. It had been a while since he had those nightmares but they still made him freak out. He tried to get a hold of himself as he slipped out of his hammock and onto floor. The cool dirt felt good on his feet as the smell of morning fires had already came in from the cracks in his windows to fill his hut. He pulled away his mosquito net to get to his dark brown dresser he had made out of a fallen tree. He put on tan cargo pants with grass stains in it and buttoned up his light green collared shirt with one of its sleeves half missing. He grabbed his pocket knife and etched another mark off of his wall. The tally on now reached 100. “100 days, it hasn’t been that long.” He walked to the front of his hut and slipped on some old tattered sneakers he had been wearing ever since he left on the boat to South America. They had multiple stains in its white lining including blood. It was a lasting memory from the first time he tried to use a knife to whittle. The sharp knife had slipped on the wood he was cutting and it cut up his palm and the top of his foot when he dropped it. He still had stitching around the 3 inch wound on his foot and the gaping 9 inch long scar on his hand. The shoes were so out grown now that he had even cut off the tips of the shoes so you could see his toes; that was the only way on earth his shoe would ever fit on his foot these days. He pulled back the hand weaved cloth made out of brown and yellow grass that he had used for a door. Smoke from the cool fire filled his lungs with a refreshing smell. The sun barely escaped onto the forest floor through the high canopy trees. The smoke was accompanied with reviving fresh air and a moist breeze with hints of assorted animals and plants inside it. The colors of the rainforest nearly blinded Jakob as he looked at them. The vibrant green bounced from tree to tree in an infinite wave of shades. A soft grey sloth climbed on a far off tree slowly inching towards the fruit just out of his grasp. The sounds of a million birds filled the air and attacked his eardrums from every angle. Jakob would be hearing them all day long. When he first got to the rainforest he nearly went insane from the incessant chirping but now he was able to ignore the birds. In the distance a monkey howled and a tiger growled. Those always made Jakob jump, he just couldn’t help it. Sitting around the fire were the other refugees that lived in the camp. There were latterly thousands of camps around the rainforest just like these. Officially the camps scattered across the Amazon rainforest in Brazil were privately made had no affiliation with the Brazilian government. However, in actuality the Brazilian government handed these camps funds under the table. Jakob heard the sound of dried up leaves under his mangled shoes crackle in a sharp, crisp noise at each of his steps. He sat down next to Joan Harrison. They had been close friends ever since they got onto the boat going south together. Joan was a tall brunet that was only 10 months older than Jakob at 23. They weren’t only just close in age but in height, both of them were just less than 6 feet. Many of the refugees at first even mistook them as twins. Not only did they look alike with brown hair and were the same height and age but the fact their names both started with J. Joan had a light tan that looked like she could have been from the Mediterranean when she actually came from the south side of New York. She grew up in the city but loved the outdoors and often went to places like Yosemite and the Rockies. She loved to climb the cliffs in those areas like Half Dome and had rough features over here hands and feet. She had several bruises over here forearms from sharp rocks and rope burns while climbing. She even had a large gash across calf from when she was climbing in the Sierras and a sharp rock slipped from the rock face and cut a gash into her left leg. However after she cut open her calf she still climbed to the top of the mountain and back down before she got medical attention. She was wearing a dark blue tank top and khaki shorts. She was holding her callused hands up to the fire with a coffee steam rising next to her.
“Morning,” Joan said sleepily while handing Jakob a white, chipped mug with dark coffee in it.
“O,” Jakob joked, “I love plain dark coffee with coffee grounds still in it.” Joan smiled,
“Just drink up Mr. Perfection. It’s all natural, you’ll love it.” She said before she took a sip from a Styrofoam cup. Sure enough when Jakob drank the coffee it was naturally sweet. Even the aroma of the coffee its self seemed to wake Jakob up as it filled his nostrils. Suddenly he heard the high pitched ring of a triangle going off came to Jakob and Joan’s ears to signal breakfast was to start in the main, tented pavilion. It was large area where 20 some-what tables across the main part of the pavilion with a hill at the very end of the pavilion was a smaller table where the leaders of the camp sat. At the table there were 5 microphones for the 5 people of the committee. Joan and Jakob sat at a table near the front and started to chow down on their breakfast. Everything on their plates was hunted of harvested in the local rainforest that is everything except for the bacon. They decided to use some of their money for bacon ever since they started eating for almost no one would stand without bacon with breakfast. Suddenly the sound of a squeal came across the speakers around the pavilion hanging on trees. Jakob swore and even saw the tarp hanging from the tree branches shake from the noise. Joan heard birds run away in horror of the dreadful sound.
“Sorry bout that.” Rick “Tree Frog” Taylor said over the loudspeaker as several people lightly giggled or laughed. Rick got his name from the obvious reason, tree climbing. He would climb high into the canopy, hooked himself to a strong tree branch, and jumped off the tree to swing via the rope to the next tree. Rick said it’s was the most exciting thing in his life, Joan agreed. However Jakob thought it was the craziest, most idiotic thing to do in your life, but he tried to keep that to himself.
“Well first of all, HAPPY 100th DAY ANIVERURY!” Tree Frog shouted excitingly, unfortunately the crowd wasn’t nearly as excited, or more of half of them were asleep. The previous night a dry thunderstorm had swept through the area, it was a miracle Jakob got any sleep at all. “Well, I guess trying to wake you up won’t do much by shouting so I’ll try a different technique.” Tree Frog held the microphone to the main electrical releasing that dreadful sound again, now that woke everyone up. “Ok, now we can get down to business.” For the next hour Tree Frog gave out miscellaneous jobs to everyone there; fruit gathering to one group of teens, hunting for the older guys that had really good shots, and sewing to the older women. All of the people had a job until only Joan and Jakob were left. Tree Frog walked up to them personally and said
“Now I need you two gather high branches from the trees.”
“Why?” Jakob blurted out. He was freaked out, he was always afraid of heights since he hurt his leg in the lake.
“Why? Well ok, if you don’t want decent sundried wood for shelter and fire that’s fine with me.” Tree Frog replied sarcastically.
“We’d be happy to do it,” Joan said while jabbing Jakob in the side.
“Well then get to work on the climbing before another storm roles in, unless you want me to tuck you in.” Tree Frog said while laughing. Jakob nervously smiled but walked stubbornly away.
Chapter 2
“Aw come on you wimp, were only 60 feet up,” Joan joked.
“That’s not funny,” Jakob replied. High up in the lush canopy of the rain forest Joan and Jakob were hanging from the trees. The sun was much brighter and hotter high up then on the forest floor where the trees blocked heat and light. Birds were surrounding Jakob and Joan trying to observe the strange new creatures. Both of them had blue harnesses on that were attached to the middle the tree they were sitting on. On their backs were green backpacks specially made to hold the branches they were collecting. The sharp crack of a branch being broken off by Joan rang though the air and all of the birds fled from the area in terror. Jakob was clutching a branch like a little kid clutches to a stuffed animal when they are scared. “Why did I come up here again?” Jakob asked Joan.
“So I could watch you squirm,” Joan laughed while breaking off another branch
“Ha ha,” Jakob said sarcastically.
“Hey maybe we could talk to get our minds off of the height.” Joan suggested.
“Anything, I am freaking out.” “Ok, uhhhh, oh. What did you do around, uh, let’s see, around when the bomb went off?” Jakob opened his eyes know and turned eyes up to the sky.
“How ‘bout something else.” Joan turned her head slightly and asked,
“Why not?”
“I SAID NO!” Jakob yelled as he sat up. The sound of more birds flying the off to the distance filled they dark cloudy sky as thunder rolled not to far from were they sat.
“Ok,” Joan said with her hands held up, “I’ll go first.” Joan leaned back more against the base of the tree and prepared her story in her mind. “At the time, it was 1998 an-”
“1999,” Jakob corrected.
“Yay, well I was 11 years old and I was living with my mom and dad in Brooklyn. My parents were sympathizers of the U.S.S.R. and were outspoken communists. They were harassed as ‘anti-Americans’ but my parents were tough. They force fed me Carl Marx’s original writings and when I was 6 and even took me out of school to be taught by them in the ‘correct’ way. Well, when the bombing actually happened it was late at night so I was already asleep. My parents didn’t wake me up because to them it wasn’t a great downfall. In fact I vaguely remember cheers during that night when the capitol exploded. I never even knew about the explosion until that weekend. I skipped over to her house in cheery colors and a bright smile. I was confused that everybody had flags out but all of them were at half mast. When I got to my friends house she was in tears and in dark colors. She told me all about the explosion and we both went into tears.” Tears started to roll down Joan’s face. “I was so angry at my parents I didn’t even bother to go home that night. They must have called my friends house hundreds of times but I never picked up.” Now tears were pouring out of Joan’s eyes and she wiped them with her sleeve. “For the next couple of weeks I stayed at friends who didn’t have to go to school because it was canceled. Then at one point I decided to move out West to stay with Uncle Jim in Southern Nevada. He was my mom’s brother and I wouldn’t have known he existed unless I overheard him arguing with my mom over the phone. He was totally against the U.S.S.R. and argued about it with my mom all of the time. I gathered money I borrowed from all of my friends and took a bus out West. My uncle was the one who got me into rock climbing. I lived with him until about a week before I came down here. While rock climbing a rock shelf broke off and hit both him and me. My tether luckily held but his,” Joan sniffled and wiped more tears, “his rope broke and he fell to the ground. He died on impact. He was a father to me and I loved him. I then heard about these camps so I got on a boat heading south and, well, here I am.” Joan finished her story with more tears and her face was soaking wet, but then again so was Jakob’s. Rain had started to pore and lightning streaked across the sky. The clouds were a deep grey and no blue sky could be seen anywhere.
“We should really get down,” Jakob said suddenly remembering his fears.
“Yay,” Joan replied as she reached for a lower branch. Jakob reached too but then his foot slipped. He looked up to Joan with wide eyes as just as he started to fall. The snap of his tether braking sung through the forest. He hit several branches on the fall down. Jakob felt a branch go into his leg and brake a sharp pain went through his body. The branches around him were getting dryer and Jakob desperately reached for branches but his hand kept slipping through. Suddenly he caught onto a branch. He stopped for a second and looked down. There were no more big branches and he was still very high up from the ground. He looked up but through the thick branches he couldn’t see Joan. Suddenly a loud crack shot through the air. Time froze as Jakob stared at the base of the branch were he saw a large crack go up the length of the branch and it was growing. Jakob’s heart stopped. “Oh shi-”
Joan hauled Jakob over her shoulder into Jakob’s hut. The rain was poring now and Joan and Jakob were soaked to the bone. The mud gurgled under Joan’s feet as the mud seeped into her shoes. Joan’s hair was tied in a bun behind her head but strands of wet hair still fell over her face. Jakob was half unconscious and was thriving in pain. In the spurts of time he was awake he was baffled by Joan’s strength to haul his the half mile from the tree they were climbing to his hut. Joan hurried knowing no matter how much pain Jakob was in now it was only going to get worse. Jakob moaned loudly but the sounds of heavy rain hitting the mud and lightning made it so loud that even he had a hard time hearing himself. Joan gently pressed aside the door of the hut and walked inside. The back of the door barley missed Jakob’s head as it came close behind him. The sound of rain against the roof muffled to a dim clatter but the repetition of the clatter was continuous. The dry, sturdy floor felt good against Joan’s feet. She pulled up a chair and gently took Jakob off her shoulder. He groaned as she slowly set him down onto the stiff wooden chair. Joan pulled her hair out of her face and stuck it back with a cold, blue bobby pin she took out of her pocket. She rubbed her hands together and swallowed some spit.
“Ok, let’s see the damage.” She slowly pulled of Jakob’s back, soaked cotton beanie, but immediately put it back on. There was a big cut across Jakob’s scalp but it looked like the cut had stopped bleeding a lot. The beanie must have helped clog the room and it looked clean from the rain.
“Looks like a beanie saved your head,” Joan smiled at Jakob. Jakob responded with an empty look straight at her. Obvious now wasn’t the time for joking. Joan moved her attention to Jakob’s arm and rolled up Jakob’s red sleeve. It was only then when she realized the rest of his shirt was white. Then Jakob winced in pain when she rolled over a lump in his sleeve. He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes as tears began to form at the bottom of Jakob’s eyes. Part of his arm bone was poking under his skin but hadn’t broken through the skin. There was a giant red welt around the area and the skin swelled and turned bright red and a deep purple. Just above the welt was a branch sticking out of Jakob’s arm. It was the source of the bleeding and even than was still spurting blood.
“Alright, I need you to get ready, this is going to hurt.” Joan told Jakob.
“What’s going to-” but Joan already yanked the stick out of Jakob’s arm. Jakob winced in pain and grabbed his blood shoulder. Joan grabbed one of Jakob’s shirts and ripped it into strips.
“Hey, that’s my favorite shirt!” Jakob said.
“Oh boo hoo,” Joan mocked. She slowly wrapped the strips around Jakob’s arm until the entire wound was covered in cloth. She then pulled a bobby pin out of he bun and put it on the bandages so they would stay in place.
“So, do you still want to hear about what was going on during the explosion?” Jakob said softly. Joan stopped messing with the bandage and took the various pins out her mouth she was holding and knelt down next to Jakob and softly returned his gaze.
“Oh, yay, definitely.” Joan said.
“Well I was living with my sister, Samantha, and my parents in Baltimore at the time, well just my mom, sister and me,” Jakob started. “My dad worked in D.C. as a secret service agent and we were very proud of him.” Joan’s eyes widened realizing where this was going. “My sister was 14 and I was 10. My mom was great in that she could raise my sister and me by herself. Dad was always gone somewhere so my mom did everything while working a 9 hour workday. My dad came home every once in a while when he was off duty while in D.C., but that was only so often.” Jakob took a deep breath. “The bomb went off, sniff, the bomb went off at 9:27. It exploded the entire capitol building. The U.S.S.R. had set it in a coup they must have been designing for years. The Secretary of Defense was actually a U.S.S.R. agent and was place in there carefully along with many others. Practically all of the cabinet was an agent.”
“Wait, I thought all of the capitol exploded.” Joan wondered.
“Yes it was but they always keep one cabinet member in a secure location during the state of the union. It’s a security issue. If all of the next in lines to be president were in building then that would be a danger in its self. They always randomly choose the member who hides so the U.S.S.R. had to make shore they get as many cabinet members in that were there’s as possible. Luckily for them they got one of them in the safe room just before the administration was booted out for the next one. My father was in the room protecting the president himself on the day of the state of the union. I was watching it on TV with my mom and sister that night. We were so proud that our father was protecting the president himself and made that night a big occasion. All of the lights were off in the house except the TV and our mom had cooked my favorite meal, golden sweet potatoes and beef. Mom had even come early from work so she could make it just right. We had our TV trays out in front of the TV and sat excited. Then,” Jakob sighed, “then the explosion happened. For a second I didn’t even know what happened. My sister yelped in fear and my mom froze up. Samantha grabbed the remote and tried to see if by a stroke of luck she had accidentally changed the channel, but she hadn’t. It seemed the entire world was silent for the minutes we sat there in front of the flickering TV. By the time the reporter brought us back out of the silence we were in our mom’s arms. We cried until there were no more tears to be shed. Our mom tried to comfort us but she couldn’t even comfort herself.” Jakob paused for a moment as Joan knelt by him and stared at him with remorseful eyes. “5 years later when I was 15 I went with my mom and sister to New York City for a mass protest. We had stayed up there days before it actually started. My sister and mom both marched with over a million people marched with them and I would’ve joined too. The only thing was I broke my leg a couple of days before. The protest went well for a while and went on for days. I watched the entire thing from our apartment building overlooking Times Square on the third straight day of the protest. That’s when the U.S.S.R. police intervened. They tried to stop the protest peacefully but after a few harsh words and rocks thrown gunfire filled the streets of Manhattan. They killed almost every protester in the massacre. Reports said from .6 million to over 1.2. Ever since that event the government has stepped up severely on prison harshness to try and scare people from protesting. I had to watch police kill all of those people on the street,” Jakob paused, “including my mom and sister. Jakob closed his eyes and tears began to drip down his face. Joan was crying even more than Jakob and hugged him.
“I’m so sorry,” She said very sadly. “I couldn’t even imagine going through that.”
“Neither can I. I do all I can to block it out.” Jakob felt Joan start to sob on his shoulder and patted her back. She slowly came out of the hug with tears still filling her eyes. She whipped her tears and nose with her sleeve and sniffled. She slowly began to work on Jacob’s wounds again.
Chapter 3
Jakob woke up from the loud noise of the camp siren ringing. Jakob shot up in his bed only to get a pain of thousands of needles all over his body. He slowly got out of bed with one hand on his back and the other making shore that the bandages on his arm were secure. He went to his dresser as fast as a cripple could and threw on some random clothes. The alarm that was going off was a warning signal and the camp had never herd before except during drills. It signaled that unscheduled people were heading toward the camp. The surveillance officer must have seen them on one of the hidden cameras in the forest. Jakob awkwardly reached under his bed (because his left leg was stiff in pain) and grabbed his old hunting rifle. It was an old wooden hunting rifle that his dad gave to him. Its old, cracked wood frame felt good against Jakob’s fingers. The frame would normally be rotted, except Jakob obsessed over it. He would clean it every day and polish the old wood. He once thought of fixing the cracks but then thought otherwise because he liked its rugged look that way. Jakob did do some enhancements to it however, well at least with Joan’s help. “I used to fix up guns with my uncle all the time,” Joan said coincidentally all the time. Jakob had added a magazine to the old gun that held 100 bullets in a round case. He also had modified the inside of the barrel with much stronger steel as apposed to the original copper. He had to make that adjustment because he had also made the gun automatic. He had even put in a bayonet in. Jakob grabbed his magazine after gazing at the beauty of a gun for few quick moments and clicked it in place. Jakob hobbled outside of his hut to find Joan right outside waiting for him. She was holding her pump action 20 gauge silver, homemade shotgun. She had made it out of assorted metal debris people had found around the camp (which is more medal then you would think) and of metal brought in by the Brazilian government as part of the camp’s monthly supply pack. Around her hips in a belt were at least 30 shells that went all the way around her body. She wore a long sleeve t-shirt but underneath you could tell she was wearing a bullet proof vest.
She held up another vest to Jakob and said, “If you enjoy living you might want to wear this,” she smiled. Jakob through on the vest over his green short sleeve shirt and went with Joan to the gathering of people in the main pavilion. Tree Frog was at the pavilion looking like a general from some video game. He was holding a giant machine gun while smoking a cigar to match the gun. He was wearing a military cap and black aviators. We had on a camouflage vest and thick sweats also coated in camo. He took the cigar out of his moth and got himself closer to the microphone and talked in a scratchy, rugged tone.
“T’day we got company. We aren’t shore if they are Russians or not but we do know they are armed. Now I want all of you to go to the South side of the camp and mark position at the edge of the clearing. Surveillance footage shows that the attackers will come through that area. Now everybody move, we don’t have all day.” Tree Frog’s message was short but to the point, we’re under attack. Jakob went as fast as he could, which wasn’t very fast, to the edge of the clearing. Luckily he wasn’t in the back of the group by himself but Joan was there to keep him company.
“So we’re really under attack.” Jakob said surprised.
“Don’t jump to conclusions, all we know is that they’re armed. Their guns could be full of candy,” Joan joked.
“Oh, bravo, very funny,” Jakob said sarcastically. Now they had gotten to the south clearing and were with the other solders. The people seemed to be split down the middle with their moods. The people in front were anxious and ready to fight. They stood slightly leaning forward and barley blinking. They were ready to get payback to the Russians. Not surprisingly they had the biggest guns too. The people in back mainly had pistols and other small arm, not to mention they were practically wetting their pants. Their legs shook in fright and huddled in the back of the group of people. Suddenly rustles were herd in the bushes. Every sound except the rustling immediately stopped. The sound got louder as people slowly cocked their guns, well at least the front people; the people in back were now actually pooping their pants. Something broke the tree line, guns went up and were about to fire, and then a mix of groans and cheers filled the area. A white flag was poking from a rotting tree.
“Guns down,” Tree Frog announced sounding very disappointed. The sound of metallic clattering of guns going down sounded as a man walked into the meadow holding a white flag. The man had an assault riffle but it was on his back and was clearly only there for protection. The man also held up his index and pinky finger to the sky as if it was a gun. That was the symbol that it was another camp was coming into ours.
“Hello,” the man said in a booming yet cheerful voice, “I am Mathew Douglas and I swear to you people I come in peace.” Mathew spoke charismatically as more people came out of the forest with their fingers in the air.
“Ok, ok, you can put your fingers down.” Tree Frog said while walking towards Matthew. “Ok Matthew.”
“Please, call me Matt.”
“Ok, Matt, we gota camp number, its 117, what’s yours?”
“We don’t have one,” Matt casually remarked.
“Oh, we don’t have one he says,” Tree Frog said while looking at his camp members. He then pulled out a pistol and held it up to Matt’s abdomen and said, “Then who the hell are you.”
“I’m Matt Douglas.” Matt smirked.
“Oh, so we got a funny guy.”
“I’m the leader of a group up in the states called, oh, I don’t know Armageddon.” Tree Frog’s eyes widened as he stared into the Matt’s face. Suddenly he seemed to have a great admiration for Matt.
“What’s Armageddon?” Jakob whispered to Joan but she only shrugged.
“Armageddon is Norse’s version of hell but I doubt that’s what this guys talking about.” She replied.
“Everyone go back their houses or huts or whatever; just go back to your huts while I talk to Mr. Douglas.”
“Yes Dad,” Jakob joked in a monotones voice and Joan smiled.
That night there was a meeting held in the main pavilion. Tree Frog went to the microphone and announced, “Ladies and gentlemen I am proud to welcome you the leader of the anti Russian group Armageddon, Mathew Douglas!” Leap Frog clapped vigorously but the rest of the camp was obviously as confused as Joan and Jakob were because only one or two people lightly clapped. Matt came up to the microphone looking much more clean cut then he was earlier. His dark blonde hair was gelled and combed to the left and the dirt was cleaned from his face. He was wearing a suit jacket that was plain black and seemed to have just been ironed. He wore a plain white collared shirt under the jacket and also a black tie. He had crisp black pants on and freshly buffed black shoes. He looked like he was ready to go to the opera instead trudge through the rainforest.
“Thank you Rick. As he said I am the leader of Armageddon.” Matt raised his arms up expecting applause but instead just got a few crickets and coughs. One of the committee members walked up to him and whispered something in his ear. “Oh, well it seems that you have never herd of my group on account you don’t get radio or TV connection out hear. Thank you Mrs. Jonson,” Matt nodded to the women who walked up to him. “How did you know of Armageddon Rick?”
“I go to the capitol of Brazil every month to pick up supplies and they have TVs there.” Leap Frog replied. “Oh, well then, I guess I should ell you what Armageddon is, or should I say does. We have cut off water to D.C. for several months last month, we have made bombings at several U.S.S.R. offices, and not to mention sunk 5 Russian ships. We at Armageddon like to think of ourselves as modern Sons of Liberty. We go around camps just like this one and collect people to join us in our fight against the God damn Russians. We provide a beacon of light and hope in a world of pitch black oppression. We want you to join us, do we have any volunteers.” Joan instantly stood up. Several others stood up too as Matt started to make a head count. “Any other takers?” Matt asked. Joan looked down at Jakob.
She didn’t have to say it but Jakob knew she was thinking “Come on, please, pretty please with a cherry on top.”
“Alright,” Jakob said as he stood up. Joan jumped a little in glee as he did.
“Very good, 14 takers. I want you all to get a good night sleep. Pack up your things and get ready. We leave tomorrow at dawn.”
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