Fan Fiction ❯ Rebus Knight ❯ Israeli's Fury ( Chapter 6 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Rebus Knight..........................by ConfirmTheOriginOfFire

Note: I am not anti-Semantic, anti-Israel, etc. Caution for strong material later in the story. If you don't understand certain things in the story(ex. Hamas, PLO, PFLP, etc.), email me at broccoliforest@aol.com and I'll explain it. : ) Man, I want more reviews! All this work and only a few so far!

-Chapter Six-

ISRAELI'S FURY

"WHAT??" Kashim and Mahmud exclaimed simulaneously, jumping up.

"Yes," Sadakah breathed, almost in tears. "I don't know exactly what they did, but some of our kind started trouble in the settlement, and now we're being attacked!"

"Oh man," Mahmud said. "How far are they into the camp?"

"Almost halfway through, last I saw. I had to help my father to safety, and my mother is taking care of my sisters. They're in your family's basement now, Mahmud, but my mother told me to try and assemble the rioters."

"Are you sure your dad's okay?" asked Kashim. Sadakah's father was blind, and would be in great danger if fighting was to happen in the camp.

"Yes, I'm sure. But...please, help me bring the rioters together, and please be careful."

The boys nodded and grabbed the guns. They didn't know how to use them yet, but they were hoping that the weapons would scare the settlers off. "Sadakah, maybe you should stay with your family."

"I want to, Kashim, I really want to. But if we don't get our forces together quickly, everyone will be in danger."

He nodded. "Don't get hurt, habibi.[1]" Mahmud shot him a funny look for that, but didn't say anything. "Let's go."

The three marched out the door, and after a final farewell, she set off in one direction, away from the fighting, while the boys headed for it. "There they are," said Mahmud, pointing. "I can practically smell the blood from here."

They approached the big, loud mess, and were startled to find a couple of fresh cadavers on the ground! "D-don't worry," Kashim said, feeling sick to his stomach. "I-it's not a big deal." But he and Mahmud held their guts in and tiptoed respectfully around them anyway.

Ptptptptptptptptpt! Machine guns hummed away, while a few Moltov cocktails exploded in the streets. Just like a riot. Tucking the gun into his belt, Kashim took his scarf out of his pocket, picked up a rock, and used the scarf like a sling to launch the projectile. Mahmud didn't have a scarf, but did have his fez with him, so he used that instead.

However, the settlers showed no signs of letting up. How big was the settlement again? It seemed like an endless supply of Israelis was streaming out onto the streets of their small camp. For once, Kashim found himself wondering when it would end, and actually looking forward to it.

A young Arab man wearing blue jeans and a black shirt was taken down by someone's bullet and was now writhing in pain on the ground. Kashim dashed over to him, lifted him, and jumped onto the low roof of one of the small adobe houses nearby.

"Are you allright?" he asked, putting him down.

"Yeah," he replied with a heavy Hebrew accent. "At least there are some decent Palestinians out there..." Kashim realized that he had just rescued an Israeli Arab, not one of his own. Without listening or asking any more questions, he shoved the injured man off the roof, leapt down, and rejoined the fighting.

By looking at it, you'd never guess that there were sides at all. It looked like a vicious free-for-all, with lighter-skinned Palestinians striking Israelis with a European fair complexion, and Israeli Arabs shooting at their dark-skinned Palestinian cousins. It was harder to fight a battle with Israeli civilians, because they did not wear uniforms, and made it harder to distinguish who was an ally and who wanted them dead.

Soon, neither Kashim nor Mahmud could find any more stones, even when the Israelis started throwing them back. "Mahmud, is your gun loaded?"

"Yeah, my dad gave me some ammo. But we don't know how to use them yet."

"Can I have some extra ammo?"

"I don't know..."

An Israeli snuck up behind Mahmud, and Kashim quickly struck him over the head with the butt of the gun. "Fine, fine," Mahmud said quickly, handing over the ammo. The boys loaded their guns, fumbled for the trigger, and struggled to stay on their feet as the force of the shots threatened to throw them backwards.

Machine gun shot sprayed all over the place, not hitting anyone, ally or enemy. A wobbly line of small holes was struck into a tree, and people leapt backwards as the shot bounced up from the hard road it hit. They sank right into the softer ground. Others hit the semi-temporary barricades that had been set up at one of the more recent riots, and created sparks with the metal parts of it.

"Do you even know how to use those, fools?" demanded a voice behind them. They turned around to see Jafar towering above them, looking seriously displeased. "Put those down at once!" The boys lowered the guns, and were both backhanded by the tall man.

"Ow!" Kashim exclaimed.

"And that's nothing compared to what you'll get if I see you doing that again! You could kill a Palestinian! Throw rocks instead! Stick to what you're good at!

"Better practice what you preach," mumbled Mahmud, watching Jafar charge off and fire his gun clumsily at the Israeli crowd. "He really sucks."

Kashim whacked another attacker over the head. "Yeah. Let's see if we can pick up the rocks in the road without having our fingers crushed."

Just then, a collective scream rose over the crowd. "The Israeli Army is here! The Israeli Army is here!"

"Damn!" exclaimed Mahmud. "More Israel men. Let's leave!"

He wasn't the only one with that idea. All the fighting Palestinians began to run back towards the camp. Kashim and Mahmud were effectively rushed along by the crowd. But Kashim spied a slain Palestinian lying on the side of the road. He tugged hard at Mahmud's arm.

"What do you want, stupid?" he asked, annoyed. "In case you haven't noticed, we're running from our deaths here!"

He kept pulling on his arm, and then pointed the man out.

"Merciful Allah . . ."