Prologue
“Say it to my face!” Pavel growls in his thick Relublic accent, leaping to his feet. I spin around, ready. Alice already knows what’s about to go down.
“Guys, come on.” Alice whimpers from the sidelines. But it didn’t matter what she said, she’s too far away to stop us. I’d have Pavel on the ground before Alice could make her away around to our side of the campfire. I’m mildly intimidated by his size. He may only be a meer inch taller than me but he’s buff that’s for sure. Pavel and I lock eyes, daring the other to make the first move. Everyone can feel the growing tension in the air as the fire seems to grow hotter. The heat propels the words in my throat and I go for it.
“I SAIIID your little girlfriend wouldn’t be dead if your fellow commies didn’t mess with us in the first pla-.” My comment is cut short after I made the fatal move of poking him in the chest. The wind flies from my lungs as Pavel shoves me to the ground. Alice is up in a flash, her own anger bubbling up. You can see it in the way she scrunches her nose and how she tries to make a fist to seem intimidating. This would not work in Pavel and he wasn’t going to hold back either. He’s finally had enough of me.
“Jake! Pavel! Quit it!” She cries, her voice wavering slightly. Pavel glances over, sparks in his lips. Oh no. I sit up on my elbows, anticipating the verbal blow aimed at Alice’s heart.
“Won’t you just shut your mouth for two seconds, Alice?” Pavel hisses without an ounce of mercy. She opens her mouth as if to retaliate but is silent. His attention gravitates back toward me and his glare burns a hole in my chest. Just me and him now. Alice wasn’t coming back from that one. “Say it again, you American rat.” He did not just call me American but I didn’t dare stand. I’d seen that look only once before. That look of pure hatred. Only once in my older brother, Markus. We had been walking around downtown D.C. when a reporter recognized us. He stopped us and out right questioned our nationality. “Who’s your mother? Obviously your father isn’t Mexican, so who are your real parents. He held the mic in my face as if these question were perfectly normal. Sure, I wondered these things too sometimes but for a complete stranger to ask, that’s a little too far. Those questions were personal. Our bodyguards were stopped a little ways behind us chatting idly, leaving us in an awkward situation. At the time, I was in shock, still new to the racism common in the big city. My brother, on the other hand, had had enough. I saw that look in his eyes that I see in Pavel now and my brother knocked that reporter out in a single blow. I’ll never forget that startled look on the reporter face like he’d nothing wrong. Our bodyguards rushed over and grabbed my brother. Markus was arrested and charged with assault on the reporter, however the charges were quickly dropped. The reporters never asked us rude questions like that again and since then, I’ve always looked up to Markus. My tough big brother I aspired to be. I realize now I am going to receive the same ass kicking that reporter got. I might as well go all in.
“Your-.” Well, cut short again. Pavel swiftly kicks me square in the jaw with his boot and I hear an unnatural crunch as blood gushes down my nose and runs down my face.
“PAVEL!” Alice screams and Pavel just raises his hand, not even casting her a sideways glance. I clench my eyes and groan, clutching my nose. He kneels and grabs the collar of my Red Socks hoodie, pulling my close so I can hear him. I press my hands harder against my nose. Perhaps I can push it back into place like the movies. Oh... but this definitely hurts a lot more than the movies. I grimace with tears welling in the corners of my vision.
“Can you imagine the hit I’d be in People’s Republic? Killing the son of our enemy?” He whispers two inches from my face. If my face wasn’t hurting so bad, I’d be uncomfortable right now. “I’d be a god. You’re luck the girls’ here or else you’d be dead.” I spit blood and saliva onto his pasty white face.
“Ok, Commie.” He sighs and wipes his face with his free hand that doesn’t have a death grip on my jacket. Then, before I can react, Pavel tosses me to the ground, my head cracking against the pavement. If I didn’t have a concussion earlier, I sure have one now. My ears ring and my vision sways. I close my eyes, in fear of throwing up. I hear Alice talking to Pavel but it sounds foreign. She’s yelling or crying or both. I can’t tell. It hurts my head either way. If I just rest here, I’ll feel better in the morning. I vaguely register the sounds of gunshots and Alice panicking. My head swims in dreamland as I feel myself being dragged. That’s the last thing I remember before the sound of rythemic footsteps and gunfire echo through our camp.









are you going to update soon?