Chapter two

Chapter two

A Chapter by Surya pradha

The next few days were absolutely absurd, though pleasantly so. John quickly became friends with the other boy, with whom he shared many interests. Unlike most rich kids, Abraham hated all the wealth that surrounded him. They were constant reminders of his father, and if there was anyone that he hated, it was him. John, at an attempt in unveiling something of Abraham's past, pestered him with questions, hoping that he could learn a thing or two about his new friend. Why would someone loath their own father? There must be a good reason and John was determined in finding it.


Finally, on a particularly rainy evening, Abraham told him a little about his mysterious past. They were taking a stroll on the outskirts of the town, away from the noise and chaos of the city. Clumps of fragrant petunias lined the path, their beauty magnified by the lush expanse of grass surrounding it. A magnificent rainbow shone on the sky, illuminating the beautiful evening.  


“Why do you hate your father so much?" John asked, mustering up his courage.


Abraham remained silent, a wary expression forming on his handsome face.


"He killed my mother," he replied shortly, hiding his face.


This was not what John had expected to hear. He had no right to interfere with Abraham's personal life and he knew it. After a few minutes of silence, Abraham spoke out again.


"Do you know how it was for me, to see my own mother being strangled to death in front of my eyes?" Abraham shouted, disturbing the prolonged silence.


 His face was contorted with anger and grief, and John knew, no matter what happened, that he was going to help his friend. It broke him to see Abraham like this and he would do whatever it took to fix it.


They talked no more about it and headed back to the mansion as darkness fell over the city. As to why Abraham's father had killed his mother, John would never know.

 

**

 

After an intense discussion, Abraham decided that they would go to Russia where his father was working in a multinational company. He had a couple of old friends there who might help them. They planned their journey for several days for caution was essential for success. They were about to embark on what would definitely be the most dangerous journey of their life and each step of the way had to be measured out. Abraham, having been to Russia on several occasions told John of his experiences, careful to mention any detail which could help them. The days stretched on into weeks as the preparations finally came to an end. They were either ready or they were not, there was no use in lingering any further.


Abraham had purchased two air tickets to the capital of Russia. Abraham’s father worked in a place about a hundred miles away from the airport. It would take them the duration of an entire day to get there, assuming that they could find proper transport.


The day of the journey finally came. Having packed all their stuff, mostly Abraham’s, they set off into the gloomy morning, their faces shining with boyish excitement. They rode a cab to the city’s airport, their nerves tingling. They paid the driver and made their way towards the entrance, walking casually and careful to not arouse any suspicion. The security guard eyed them strangely before letting them in.


To John, all of this was new, he had never before even dreamt of flying. The vast expanse of the airport stunned him; it was all he could do to not gape at everything he saw. Abraham ushered him inside, grinning at the look on John’s face.


“Nice, huh?” Abraham asked as they made their way to the designated terminal.


John couldn't bring himself to answer for he had just caught a glimpse of an airplane through the huge windows. They were extraordinarily large; they seemed to stretch on forever. Never before had he seen such a thing and John realized that he was extremely privileged to ride it. Excitement shone on his face as he looked at the enormous planes, yearning to be within its luxurious premises.


They deposited their luggage at the baggage terminal and had their passports scrutinized before they were allowed further inside. They made their way towards where their flight was situated, barely before the departure time. They were then ushered inside the plane and this was a moment which John would never forget in his entire life.


The inside of the plane was very different from what John had expected. A lush carpet covered the floor, leading them to their assigned seats. Miniature spotlights lined the cabinets on either side, casting shadows on the passengers. Abraham lugged their luggage onto one compartment and sank into his cushioned seat, beckoning John to do the same. John sat down next to him, taking in his new, alien surroundings. To his fascination, he noticed that every seat had its own television attached to it. Just as he was about to experiment with it, a voice boomed through the plane, resonating off the cramped space. The voice was polite and well measured, instructing them to fasten their seat belts. John heeded the instruction and watched as Abraham did the same. He felt the plane gain elevation, the change in altitude creating a weird sensation.


Darkness wrapped the plane and its drowsy passengers and John allowed himself to be overcome by sleep, the inevitable enemy.


**

Bright rays of sunshine woke John from his state of stupor. Abraham was still sound asleep next to him, his chest rising and falling monotonously. He gazed around at the other passengers; most of them were asleep. He rose and made his way towards the end of the plane where the lavatory was situated. The sound of his footsteps seemed magnified by the absolute silence.  The stillness was suddenly broken by a deep voice emanating from the opposite end of the corridor. As John headed back to his seat, the name ‘Abraham’ caught his attention. Sure that it must be some other Abraham but still filled with curiosity, he edged towards the source of the conversation, careful not to be seen. A group of men were huddled together, their faces serious and their tones hushed. A hefty middle aged man spoke.


“I saw his son on the plane,” he whispered, glancing at his companion.


“Are you sure it’s him?” another one asked, his face clouded with doubt.


“Yeah, I’m sure, look…” he replied showing the man something which John couldn’t make out.


John noticed that all the men had similar tattoos engraved on their tanned skin, though at this distance, he couldn't quite see what it was.  The men continued talking, their voices subdued and expressionless. John could tell at once that these men meant business; their conversation was intent and purposeful. No longer able to catch the conversation, John reluctantly made his way back to his seat and found Abraham propped up on his seat.


“Where have you been?” he asked as soon as he saw John walking towards him.


“Never mind about that,” he replied and quickly filled Abraham in on what he had heard. Abraham listened to him intently, an expression of concern crossing his face.


“Could he have been talking about us?” he questioned, a trace of fear in his voice.


“I don’t think so but it won’t hurt to be careful,” John answered, worried by Abraham’s reaction.


They stopped talking as hostesses walked past them, carrying plates of hot food. John’s stomach rumbled with hunger and all was forgotten as he ate, greedily wolfing down the delicious food. The plane landed a few hours later, the overwhelming noise of the engine coming to a halt as the city of Moscow loomed before them.  


The passengers disembarked, keen to get out of the cramped plane. The men whom John had heard talking earlier walked past them, their faces expressionless. After most of the crowd had dissipated, John and Abraham left, blending in with the silent crowd. The first thing that struck John was how different Russia was from America. The landscape was dotted with peculiar buildings and towering structures; everything seemed to be man-made. The people around him conversed in an alien tongue; he couldn't understand a single word. Fortunately Abraham could and it was only with his help that he was able to get around.


After all the normal procedures were completed, they grabbed their luggage from the baggage claim. From asking around, they gathered that Mr.Kingston’s headquarters, which was surprisingly well known, could only be reached through a particular bus"S15. That bus had already departed a couple of hours ago and wouldn't return till the next day. Unsure of what to do, they finally decided to stay in the airport till the next morning, there was no other alternative. As they looked for a comfortable place to settle in, John noticed a pair of eyes observing him. A single glance told him that it was one of the men from the plane. He relayed his discovery to Abraham who responded with panic. They were sure that something was wrong by now and knew that they were in serious trouble.


“Walk slowly to the exit, we have to leave,” Abraham whispered, heading towards the unmanned exit.


 John followed, aware that the strangers were watching their every move. As they neared the exit, three of the men followed, their faces hostile and intent. Fear clouded his mind as he broke into a sprint, his heart hammering against his ribcage. The men followed swiftly and John knew that if they caught him, it would all be over. These men were well built and obviously very strong. John and Abraham were outnumbered, they situation seemed hopeless. Still they ran on into the streets of Moscow, hoping that someone would see them and help. The streets, however, were completely deserted, the city’s inhabitants sound asleep in their houses.


Their pursuers gained on them, running swiftly over the withered grass. They didn't seem to tire whereas John was breathless; he wouldn't be able to keep pace much longer. One of the men shouted and pointed to his left. Distracted, John followed his gaze, realizing too late that he had been tricked. One of the men grabbed him by the shoulders and tossed him to the ground. He knew that the same had happened to Abraham. He struggled against the man’s strong grasp but it was hopeless. The last thing that he saw was the scarred, merciless face of his attacker before a huge fist rammed into the side of his head, sending him sprawling, unconscious, to the hard, muddy ground.


**


It took a while for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He seemed to be in some sort of abandoned warehouse; there were stacks of wooden crates piled to his left. A layer of dust covered everything, making him sneeze uncontrollably. His hands had been tied together, the rough thread piercing his skin. He looked frantically for Abraham and found him a few yards to his immediate right. Abraham’s face was covered with bruises, fresh blood dripping gently from one wound. His ankle was twisted at an odd angle which told John that he must have broken it when he fell. His sympathy and worry for Abraham faded as he examined himself. He too was covered with bruises, though none of them life threatening. Seeing Abraham stir, he called out.


“Abraham, look at me,” he said, unsure whether he should shout or whisper. It took a couple more attempts before Abraham reacted.


Abraham looked up and relief lit his eyes as they met John’s.


“Are you alright?” Abraham questioned, trying to inch closer to where John lay.


“I’m fine, it’s you who you have to worry about,” John replied, his breath coming up in short gasps.


Abraham ran his hand through his several bruises, wincing as his skin touched them.


“I’ll be fine,” he said, adding “we have to get out of here”.


They looked around for ways of escape, aware that someone might come in at any moment. Hours passed and they still couldn't find a way out. Exhausted and hungry, they slumped to the floor, knowing that nothing could be done. They would just have to wait and see what happened.


It was few hours till something did. The heard voices coming from somewhere outside, growing louder as they neared. Words were exchanged in harsh tones; they seemed to be arguing about something. The door was thrown open forcefully as two men stepped inside, still engaged in loud conversation. John and Abraham straightened as they came closer, scared about what was going to happen.


The man who spoke first was old, with wrinkled skin and a long grey beard which stretched till the floor.


“These are ’em kids.” he said, addressing the other man.


The other man was middle aged, his face covered with many scars. He was extremely fit, muscles rippled on his toned arms. Looking at John and Abraham with disgust, he turned to the older man.


“You can leave now,” he instructed.


“Are ye sure?” the other man asked, looking at the duo with a kind of manic hunger.

 John turned away, frightened.


“Ahjad, don’t you think I’m capable of dealing with two kids?” he replied coldly, his face twisting with anger.


“Of course, my lord,” the old man whimpered, retreating hastily. The door creaked on its hinges as the man left, leaving them alone with the other man.


He brought his face close to John’s, sneering at his frightened expression. It was a few seconds before he spoke.


“So, you’re Kingston’s kid, huh?” he growled, looking at Abraham, his accent unlike any that John had ever heard.


“Why are you interested in him?” Abraham replied, looking at John for support.


The man eyed him for a few seconds before slapping him cruelly across the face. The sound echoed through the closed room.


John looked at Abraham, shocked by the sudden violence. Abraham whimpered with pain, backing away from the man.


“I’ll be doing the questioning,” he spat, lighting a cigar.


“Why have you come to Russia?” he asked, glaring down at John.


“To visit my friend’s father,” John lied, glancing at Abraham.


“I see…” the man replied getting up from where he was seated. This time he slapped John, his powerful hands slamming into John’s already bruised face.


John reeled back, his face pounding with pain. It was as if a hammer had slammed into him; the pain was so intense.


“There’s no point in lying, I already know what you’re up to,” he said fiercely, looking away from John’s piteous face.


“Then, why ask?” said Abraham, knowing that the man would hit him again. He couldn't think of how the man could possibly know of what they had planned.


It definitely seemed to be on the man’s mind but he restrained himself from doing so.


“Because we too are after the same cause. Help us and your lives will be spared,” he said, his icy glare fixed on Abraham.


“Who are you?” John asked, relieved that they weren't in any immediate danger.


“My name is not of importance, it is my alliance which concerns you,” the man replied, pointing at a black mark on his skin.


John realized that it was the same tattoo that he had seen on the plane. Abraham looked questioningly at the tattoo, his eyes widening as he recognized the image engraved on his skin. He looked at John, fear etched in his face. He obviously knew what it meant for he looked at the man with renewed awe and fear.


“You recognize us,” the man said, satisfied by the look on Abraham’s face.


“Yes…” Abraham replied, not trusting himself to speak.


“I’ll leave you to it, then. Join us and we work together for a common cause. Refuse and you die painfully,” he finished, looking one last time at John.


He left without further talk, his cloak slithering over the dusty floor as he walked briskly. Abraham turned to John, his face sprouting a weird expression. John waited for an explanation and spoke when it didn't come.


“What is this all about?” he asked, curious.


“They’re part of a huge terrorist group, the Hazac, and they want us to join them,” Abraham replied shortly, unsure of what to do.


“They could be of great help; I don’t mind being part of them,” John replied, adding, “It’s not like we have a choice.”


 A small part of him knew that he was making a terrible mistake, one that he would regret for the rest of his life. But the thought of revenge overwhelmed him and he shook off his guilty conscience. It had to be done, there was no other way. Many would have died rather than join the Hazac, but that “many” hadn't been brought up alone, subjected to cruel treatment. John’s eyes blazed with madness as his mind drifted away, his thoughts filled with the thirst for revenge.

**



© 2015 Surya pradha


Author's Note

Surya pradha
please read and review!

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Featured Review

I am usually not one for thrillers, but I must say this is very interesting. It's very descriptive and plays lke a movie in my head.
"The entire system was flawless, a personification of perfection.' Love it.
And..I'm sure it's a typo but in this line:
"The landscape was dotted it peculiar buildings and towering structures;"
I think it's supposed to be 'with' instead of 'it'.

Posted 6 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Surya pradha

6 Years Ago

yeah, it was a typo, thanks for pointing it out!



Reviews

I am usually not one for thrillers, but I must say this is very interesting. It's very descriptive and plays lke a movie in my head.
"The entire system was flawless, a personification of perfection.' Love it.
And..I'm sure it's a typo but in this line:
"The landscape was dotted it peculiar buildings and towering structures;"
I think it's supposed to be 'with' instead of 'it'.

Posted 6 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Surya pradha

6 Years Ago

yeah, it was a typo, thanks for pointing it out!
Since I have read the first chapter of this story very closely observing every details of the plot I can know much about the setting of the scene yet the story proceeds in vivid imagination where Abraham knows how the murder of John's mother was executed by his own father.
I am present putting your story in my library for future. Keep writing. I would like to see in letters...
Thanks sharing so fine a story.

Posted 6 Years Ago


Apart from grammar and a bit of punctuation mistakes it is good story.

Posted 6 Years Ago


Surya pradha

6 Years Ago

thanks, can you tell me what the mistakes were, exactly. It will help me in improving my work!
bunny

6 Years Ago

I'll inbox you

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Added on December 12, 2014
Last Updated on January 11, 2015


Author

Surya pradha
Surya pradha

Chennai, India



About
I'm 16 years old and proud to be an Indian. I really like writing and it has kind of become my hobby. I've written tons of poems and short stories and i would like to share them with everyone. more..

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Chapter one Chapter one

A Chapter by Surya pradha