Path of Jen: Bloodborne by Sidney Wood Read Free Book Online Page B

out onto the sidewalk in front of the
shop.
    Just then a vehicle came around the corner
and toward the shop. It was an old beat-up minivan. Jen could see
two men in the front seats. She put her head down and began walking
away from the store and the van. She dropped the wrench inside the
store when she broke the window, but she still held the chisel
tightly in her left hand. She tried to keep it hidden as she walked
quickly away. The van slowed in front of the shop for a second and
then raced toward her. Jen heard the van accelerating and ran as
fast as she could.
    The van screeched to a stop next to her and
she heard the doors open as she ran by. Jen ducked into the first
alley and ran on. Ahead of her was an opening to another street.
She could hear the men behind her and she screamed, “Help me!” as
she ran. “Anyone! Please, help me!" She skidded and threw her body
weight to the left, trying to duck around the next corner as
quickly as possible. What felt like a hammer slammed into her right
shoulder and then held on as it dragged her spinning to the ground.
She heard the chisel clank against the pavement and go skidding
away from her. “No!” she shouted as she tried to break the
vice-like grasp someone had on her arm. “ Let me
go! ”
    Jen felt hot breath on her neck and strong
arms wrapped around her tightly. She smelled leather, cigarettes
and spiced sweat as she struggled to get free. “Let go!” she yelled
again. “Help!”
    The man holding her spoke calmly while he
regained his breath and tried to subdue her. He had a soft voice,
but he was squeezing her so tightly that it hurt.
    “You’re hurting me!” she cried.
    “Sh-sh-sh-sh,” he said. He spoke to the other
man in Farsi, and Jen could not understand any of it. She glimpsed
a thin man in his late twenties or early thirties, wearing a
Member’s Only jacket squatting next to her. He seemed to be
reaching out to her and then everything went dark.
    Jen felt the cloth bag against her face. It
smelled of sour breath. “Oh no!” she thought. “They’re
going to kill me!" Images of prisoners in orange jump suits and
wearing black bags over their heads raced through her mind.
Jihadi’s dressed in black would make them kneel in the sand and
then dramatically pull the bags off of the prisoners’ heads. One of
the men dressed in black, usually one with a British accent, would
say something about western politics or policies and put a knife to
a prisoner’s throat. At the end of the video, the prisoners always
died in the most gruesome way. “Is that what is happening to
me?” Jen wondered. She began to hyperventilate.
    She heard the man holding her speak again,
and the other man answered as if irritated. A hand grasped her left
shoulder and she felt a sharp prick. “Ow!” she yelled. A dull pain
spread through her shoulder and she suddenly felt hot. Then the
heat was slowly replaced with a cool, refreshing feeling. She felt
exhausted and began thinking of sleep. The strong arms that were
wrapped around her actually felt comforting. Her head felt funny
and her whole body began humming. Jen felt her body being lifted
off of the ground and she wondered if that was okay. She drifted
off to a place somewhere between sleep and waking. She was living
in a black room, surrounded by a constant humming, and nothing
mattered.

Chapter Five
    Fatima sat at the kitchen table crying into
her sleeve. Her husband, Mahmoud, stood frowning behind her with
his arms crossed, chewing on his bottom lip. “How could I have lost
her?” she said, barely above a whisper. “It is all my fault." She
choked and began sobbing again. Mahmoud put a large hand softly on
her shoulder.
    “This was not your fault Fatima,” he said to
comfort her. “You could not have known she would wander." She
looked up at him with glistening eyes.
    “But what if she did not? What if I moved
away from her?” she asked. “I mean it, husband! What if she tried
to keep up and I lost