Eric's eyes widened. That voice sounded faintly familiar to him. At the corner of his eyes he could see silhouettes zooming past the glass windows. Each of them shouting at one another, asking if they found the boy yet. The anger and power behind their voices caused a tremor in the room. Eric could see a glass cup of water vibrating, causing a wave of ripples. But their voices didn't just strike the whole room in fear, it struck him. At that moment his previous adrenaline rush completely left him. He was Eric again. A boy without power, who could only rely on the whims of fate.
Suddenly, he felt one of his young captors slowly relinquish their grip on him. As he turned around he was met with the question.
"What did you do?"
Eric finally remembered that voice. It belonged to that other girl from the field.
"Me and Thon went into a store to get some supplies for Atem, but there were soldiers there," he said, conveniently leaving the other part out.
"What's wrong with him?" the boy asked.
Eric hesitated for a moment before responding.
"He got burned, really badly, during the protesting."
"He was one of the people who got burnt?" the girl asked in disbelief.
Eric nodded. A pause hung in the air before she asked.
"How bad is it?"
"I haven't seen him this morning, but it's probably really bad. It took us a while to put the fire out, and it covered his entire face. So…"
They nodded.
He didn't even need to finish; they understood. Despite most of the girl's face being covered, he could see her eyes, laid over with a layer of tears.
"Are those the supplies?"
Eric nodded.
"Wait, what about Thon, where is he?" she asked, her voice breaking.
Eric paused.
"He…he told me to take these and run," he said, gesturing to the bags of supplies.
"How many of them were there? Did he get caught?" the boy asked.
"I don't remember exactly how many there were, but it's—"
"What do you mean, you don't remember how many there were?" the girl asked, her tone lit with fire.
"I just don't remember exactly."
"You left him…didn't you." Her tone dropped.
"No, no, he told me to take these and run. I didn't leave him."
Drops of sweat swam down his face, some burning his eyes. Eric glanced over to the boy, only to see him fold his arms and sigh.
"Nyangdeng, calm down."
The girl quickly switched her fiery glare toward him.
"YOU BELIEVE HIM," she shouted.
"Keep your voice down."
"Papa is dead, Atem is hurt, and Thon is missing, and we don't even know if he's dead or not."
"…"
The boy began tapping his feet and scratching his wrist fiercely, looking away from her.
"And you're not even saying anything," she said, pushing him.
The boy quickly retaliated and pushed her back, sending her tumbling toward a glass cabinet, completely shattering it. Several alcohol bottles fell over as a result of the impact, but luckily none of them harmed her.
She slowly slid down, staring up at her brother, shaking.
"Shut up. You think you're the only one who is sad. I watched our dad get torn to pieces by bullets, while you were with mama, bitching like always." As he spoke, his voice rose, causing the counter to vibrate and the glass bottles on the shelf to clink together.
"On top of that I got shot in the leg while carrying you, because you wouldn't stop bitching about your sprained ankle."
The girl remained silent. Her mouth opened and closed, as if she was trying to find words to soothe her brother's anger.
Meanwhile Eric just stood there, unsure whether it was his place to step in, until finally he mustered enough courage to take a step forward and open his mouth. But before he could intervene, the boy looked over at him.
"Your name is Eric, right? That's what the old man called you."
Eric nodded, and the boy handed him a mask.
"Take this. It might help with the smell."
"What smell?"
"You'll see."
The boy rolled up a carpet, exposing a circular cover. As soon as he took the cover off, a vicious smell attacked Eric's nose. A single breath was enough to set his nose on fire. He immediately put his mask on. He still couldn't breathe well, but it reduced the stench.
"Be careful climbing down the ladder. It's rusted, and part of it is broken," he said, descending.
Eric looked over at Nyangdeng. She was crying and shaking, curled up into a ball.
"Are you okay?"
Eric reached out his hand to her. She stared at it for a second before slapping it away. And without saying a word, she pushed Eric aside and descended the ladder.
He sighed, took the bags, and descended along with them.
As soon as Eric's feet hit the concrete, he was met with a bright white light.
"Watch your step, and don't fall into the water. We might not be able to help you if you do."
The boy pointed his flashlight at the raging brown current of water that ran through the sewer.
"I'll try not to."
Eric looked around; the walls were covered by a greenish stain. With each step he took he could hear water splattering. As he walked, his mind wandered back to what Nyangdeng had said to him. "You left him…didn't you." Her voice echoed inside his mind until he eventually asked himself if she was right. Did I leave him? No, he told me to run. He gave me permission. It's not my fault. It's not my fault if he's dead. But was there something I could've done at that moment? Maybe if I was smarter and stronger I could've done something, instead of just relying on him to tell me what to do. Damn it, but I'm just a kid. I'm not an adult; I can't perform miracles like they do. Eric bit his lip hard, until he could taste his own blood.
A half hour passed before the boy finally said,
"Just one more turn and we'll see the lights of the camp."
Finally—wait, the lights of the camp? Eric thought as he turned the corner.
In an instant his face was lit up with orange light, coming from lanterns spread throughout the camp. Eric was shocked; it was as if they'd built a mini town down in the sewer. Children ran around playing tag, while the adults cooked food and talked with their neighbors. Several tables were scattered around where people gathered, trading goods and materials. The camp was also filled with tents, each a different color, as if they symbolized something.
Eric took a second to stop and think, what in the hell did he and his father get themselves into?
"H-h-hey, what is this?"
They both stopped and turned around to look at Eric.
The boy gave Eric a wild smile and stepped back.
"What—this? This is change," he said, spreading his arms out.
"Eric, welcome to the South Sudanese revolution."
Eric's eyes widened.
"Th-the South Sudanese what?"
"My mother can explain it to you better than I can."
Eric's legs began to shake.
Eric's mind flashed back to the man who'd been blown to pieces, and the people who'd been publicly executed. Could my father and I be next? he asked himself.
With every step he took he could feel fear collapsing onto him; with each step he had to fight the urge to turn around and run. Anywhere might be safer than with them, he thought. But for some reason he didn't go through with it—maybe because of the one instinct he hated with a passion. But little did he know that instinct might be the very thing that had kept him alive up until that point.
"Who is this?"
A man stepped forward, clenching his rifle.
"His name is Eric. He's a friend of Atem and Akeer."
The man looked at him with a distrustful expression.
"I've never seen him around them before."
"I think he's a traveler."
The man's face morphed into fear.
"So you just bring him here? Are you a fool?"
The man quickly pointed his gun at Eric. Eric backed away, his heart skipping a beat.
But the boy stepped in front of him.
"Wait, wait. He's related to the old man."
"Keji?" the man asked.
The boy nodded.
It took a couple of seconds for the man to lower his gun, and when he finally did, it came with a long, loud sigh.
"Can I bring him in?"
The man nodded.
But before they went in, the man placed his hand on the boy's shoulder and said,
"Don't let me regret this."
The boy nodded.
As they walked through the camp, the deeper they went the more weapons were visible—pistols, revolvers, shotguns, rifles, even some guns Eric didn't recognize—either peeking out of a barrel or hanging on tents. Again Eric considered turning back to run, but he decided against it; it was far too late for that.
They walked some more until the boy finally stopped and pointed toward a specific tent.
"That's ours."
Then a little boy came running out of the tent, no older than six. He ran straight for him and hugged him, then ran to Akeer and hugged her too. Eric looked over at Akeer and noticed she was making an effort to smile. She managed a smile that faltered. Eric had completely forgotten she was with them, having gotten lost in his thoughts.
"Athir, is she awake?"
"Yes, she's cooking rice and chicken."
"Okay."
As he entered the tent, the little boy stopped him.
"Did you see Father? I haven't seen him since the day before yesterday."
His eyes shimmered for a second as he glanced up, down, and sideways before responding.
"No, he's probably on a work trip, and for some reason he forgot to tell us," he said, quickly heading into the tent.
"Who's this?" the boy whispered to Nyangdeng, gripping her skirt.
She shot a quick fiery glare at Eric before looking back down to respond.
"Oh, he's just a friend."
The boy glanced over at Eric one more time.
"Okay. Come, Mother is almost done cooking."
The boy excitedly pulled Nyangdeng by the skirt and beckoned Eric to follow them inside.
As soon as they went in, the hot smell of steam enveloped them.
At the corner of the tent Eric noticed a woman adding ingredients to a boiling pot. She used a spoon to taste the gravy before turning to them.
"Oh, is this the friend you were talking about?"
The boy nodded.
"Good evening, ma'am," Eric said.
"Good evening. We can talk over dinner. Have a seat."
They sat down on orange pillows while the woman served them plates full of steaming rice and chicken. With each bite Eric took he could feel the heat traveling through his body, warming him.
"Ma'am, what is this?" Eric asked.
Part of Eric hoped the boy had just been joking when he said this was a South Sudanese revolution and they were simply homeless. But deep down Eric knew that with everything happening, something like a revolution wasn't far off from the realm of possibility.
The woman swallowed her food and sighed before responding.
"This place is a camp for the revolution."
Eric's hope was crushed.
"B-but why?"
"Suppression. The government keeps its own people poor so it can use us."
"But that doesn't make any sense. Isn't the government trying to improve people's lives? Why else would they offer to help rebuild this city?"
The woman paused.
"See, that's exactly the way they want you to think," she said, giving Eric a smile.
"This country is growing very quickly in wealth, but nobody knows why, and nobody knows where the country's wealth goes. And the government is feuding with our neighboring countries, and even with the United States, over an asteroid that might or might not hit our country. And all of a sudden they want to help us, in exchange for our lives in case there's a war." The woman sighed and shook her head.
"That asteroid must be worth a lot if even the United States is pressuring our government to give it up."
Eric's eyes widened.
"So you're saying you're planning to overthrow the government so you can sell the asteroid."
"Yes. We have the backing of South Africa, Ghana, Nigeria, and Niger, and it's only a matter of time before we have the United States too. If we sell it, we won't have to live like cavemen; we could all live comfortably instead of in houses full of insects."
Eric could see a glimmer of hope and longing in her eyes—or was it greed?
"We have forces all around the country, and even some among our allies. If everything goes well, we can tear down this country's government within a year."
"But how are you going to escape? The city is full of soldiers," Eric asked.
"We've been digging a tunnel underground for the past two years. It leads all the way up to the camp of the main forces. As soon as we're there, we'll blow up the tunnel so they won't be able to follow us. Some generals have also joined the revolution, and they're supposed to tell us an important secret the government and other countries have been trying to hide from us. And don't worry, we won't be here long. We'll leave tomorrow afternoon, after we're fully ready and have rescued some people."
We. The word echoed in his mind.
"No, I'm sorry, but I can't come with you. I'm actually trying to find my father so we can get back on the road to see our relatives. I just happened to get caught up in all of this. And I need to bring this to Akeer, because Atem is hurt really badly."
"Oh, take this."
The woman handed him a very large book bag.
"This should be large enough to carry everything from those other bags."
Eric paused.
"Oh. Thank you."
He began filling the bag with the supplies until it was completely stuffed.
"Mother, can I bring him with me to search for more supplies? Then I can help him bring this to Atem and Akeer."
"Are you sure? You don't need to."
"I'll be fine," he said, holding his mother's hand.
She sighed, then nodded.
"Be back by tomorrow. You know where the tunnel is if you can't find us."
He nodded.
"I'm coming too," Nyangdeng said.
The boy turned to her and said, with a stern tone,
"No."
"Let her come with you. She'll help."
"B-but…okay," he said, sighing.
"We'll leave now."
The boy got up and exited the tent.
"Thank you for the food, ma'am. It was very good."
"You're welcome."
As Eric and Nyangdeng were leaving the tent, the woman said something to Eric that he hoped would come true.
"Best of luck to you and your family, young man," she said, caressing her son's forehead as he slept.
"You too, ma'am."
Outside the tent Eric saw the boy staring up at a spot on the ceiling of the sewer. Small as it was, it was the only spot through which light could reach.
Then he suddenly turned toward them.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
They both nodded.
"Good."
"Oh, I forgot to tell you my name."
Eric suddenly realized the only label he'd had up until then was just "boy."
"My name is Arop. Nice to meet you," he said, turning to Eric and extending his hand with a bright smile. But the smile faltered strangely. Eric smiled back and shook his hand.
"Well, let me properly introduce myself. I'm Eric, an ex-soccer player, now a traveler for the summer."