Eric floated in the darkness of his mind, his consciousness at peace. Despite the horrors he'd just seen, he felt a strange numbness to it all. His demons were still present, wrapping their grotesque arms around his naked soul. But Eric didn't resist; he accepted them, as his punishment for not being able to save them. Yet, despite how horrifying everything was, he wouldn't fully give in, because there was something he considered far bigger than himself that he was fighting for—a light, shining brightly in the darkness of his mind, a light that fully exposed his nakedness. Eric stared up at the light, starstruck. Before he could even realize it, he lifted his arm, trying to grasp it. But it was far out of reach. He began to swim up toward the sky, trying to seize it, but more and more hands appeared, wrapping around his body. They weren't pulling him back—instead they were pushing him up along with themselves, but at the same time weighing him down. The closer he got to the light, the more demons wrapped around his body. And the more he swam, the more his life began to fade, until he drowned again and again, each time those demons bringing him back up, desperately trying to push him upward, toward their salvation.
* * *
Eric was jolted awake by the feeling of liquid being poured on his head and the sound of pots colliding.
"Wakey, wakey, sleepyheads."
Eric looked up and saw Arop smiling, hovering over them with a cup. Right behind him was Nyangdeng, carrying two big pots.
"You could have just shaken us awake."
Suddenly Eric lost his balance and nearly hit the floor before catching himself with his arm.
He looked up behind him and saw Akeer standing there, looking at both of them, annoyed.
"But where's the fun in that?" Arop said, smiling.
Akeer sighed, rubbing her eyes, too tired to argue.
"Are you getting ready?" Akeer asked.
"Yes, we're halfway done packing."
"Good. …I'm going to check on my brother," Akeer said, before disappearing into another room.
"So, how was the sleep?"
Eric looked up at Arop, who extended his hand. Eric took it, and Arop lifted him up from the floor.
"It was…okay."
Eric felt refreshed—way better than the day before—but as for his dream, it was blank. He knew he'd dreamed of something, but couldn't remember what. The only thing he remembered was that it had been just as surreal as his other dreams, including the one he'd had during the trip. Eric tried to recall any images from that dream, but everything was just a blur.
"How was yours?" Eric asked.
"The same. It was okay."
"Good morning."
Everybody turned their attention to a boy limping toward them, the biggest smile on his face.
"Good morning."
"Good morning."
"Good morning," they all said, right after each other.
"You're going to need a doctor," Arop said.
"No, I'm fine. It's just a little pulsing pain, that's all."
Arop turned to him and said,
"I could hear you last night."
Thon's bright smile slowly vanished, replaced by a fainter one.
"I'm fine, Arop."
They stared at each other for a moment before Arop nodded and walked away, helping his sister pack.
"I know it's kind of too late to ask now, but are you okay?"
Eric turned to Thon and replied.
"Yes, I'm fine."
Thon smiled at Eric.
"Well, that's good."
Thon paused before asking.
"Eric, could you help me pack the stuff in the other room? There's not much. And there's a spare shirt in there I could give you."
"Sure," Eric said.
As he followed Thon to the room, Eric couldn't help but stare at the bloody bandage as Thon staggered along. Why did he do that? Eric wondered as they reached the room.
"Okay, you pack the stuff over there, and I'll pack the stuff over here," Thon said.
As they packed, Eric glanced over at him, kneeling down, one hand covering his wound and the other packing. Eric noticed he was doing the same thing he himself did whenever he felt pain—gritting his teeth. Now the question that had been plaguing Eric's mind since the moment Thon came tumbling through the window began eating away at him, until he finally asked.
"Thon, why did you do that in the store?"
Thon looked over at Eric and said,
"Do what?"
"You know what I'm talking about. You knew we could've died."
Thon remained silent for a moment before responding.
"I'm sorry. …I just did it on impulse. If we hadn't brought anything back, the chances of Atem dying would have only grown, so I just…I risked it. …I'm sorry."
"Here," Eric said, giving him the things he'd packed.
"Oh, thank you. Could you give it to Arop? And here." He tossed Eric a black T-shirt.
"Thanks," Eric said, putting it on.
As Eric walked out of the room, he wondered, where was that sense of duty to heroism when those soldiers were… He couldn't even finish the thought. He gritted his teeth.
Then suddenly he heard a muffled sound in the last room of the hallway. The door was cracked open just enough for Eric to see inside. Akeer was tending to her brother. She unwrapped the bandages off his face to reveal a completely different one. Eric stepped back and gulped at the sight. He could feel his stomach turn and the sudden urge to vomit. Atem's face was no longer that of the smiling boy Eric remembered, but a bloody, disfigured mess. His face was nearly identical to the corpses being burned by the soldiers.
Before Eric could walk away, Atem's eyes suddenly glanced in his direction, and their eyes met. Almost immediately Atem's eyes filled with tears at the sight of Eric's expression, and he began wailing. The sound, instead of a normal cry of despair, came out bone-chilling, something Eric considered inhuman.
His sister quickly tried to console him with a gentle but emotional hug. Then Akeer and Eric's eyes met. She shot him an annoyed look as Eric backed away. She then came to the door and slammed it in his face, leaving Eric standing there with a sense of shame and stupidity.
"What was that?" Arop asked, rushing over.
It took a few glances between the door and Eric before he understood what had happened.
"Oh. I forgot to tell you—she said nobody should look or go into the room without her permission. My bad," Arop said, apologetically.
Eric looked at him and sighed.
"Eric, do you remember what the president said?" Arop asked.
Eric nodded, recalling the president's speech to the town the previous night.
"4 p.m.," Eric said, realizing why Arop wanted him to remember.
"Yes. At 4 p.m. today, the entire town is going to rally at the city square to find out whether or not they'll be going to war."
Eric was struck by the realization that today might dictate what happens to Africa for the next ten years—might even mark something unchangeable in the future.
Arop studied Eric's face in confusion.
"Aren't you glad? Today you can finally find your father and leave this town."
"I am, but—"
"But what. But you can't leave the people here and just run away. Is that what you're trying to say?" Arop finished the sentence for him.
"…Exactly. I can't."
"Eric, you're not a hero. Not yet, at least. Everybody in this town is destined for their own path—whether it's a path of death, misery, or futility, is none of your business. …But that won't stop you from butting in and taking responsibility, will it?"
Eric remained silent for a few seconds before responding.
"It won't."
Arop smiled at him and sighed.
"Eric, you're afraid, aren't you?"
"No, I'm…of course I'm afraid. Only someone as strong as you wouldn't be."
"You think I'm not afraid?" Arop said, slightly surprised.
"…I do get afraid. But sometimes I'm just so numb to it I don't even react. …I'm not as strong as you think, Eric." His eyes flickered with emotion for a moment before crystallizing back into their usual weariness.
Eric was about to refute what seemed to him the most blatant lie, before his sister interrupted.
"Remember what Mom said. We have to be back at the camp today."
Arop turned to her and sighed.
"Nyangdeng, we aren't going back."
"What? What do you mean—if we don't go back today, they're going to leave us."
"We aren't going," Arop said, his eyes cold.
Nyangdeng ignored him and began gathering her things.
"I'm going to tell Mom, and have Uncle John come get you," she said, trying to get past him, but Arop wouldn't let her.
"Stop being so difficult. …Listen, there's been a change of plans. We'll meet them somewhere later."
"Where?" she asked.
"I'm going to find out today."
They stared at each other intently. Suddenly Nyangdeng dropped her things and sat curled in the corner.
Arop let out a sigh.
"Nyangdeng, do you want to play red light, green light? …Just like we used to," Arop asked, in a friendly, soft tone, completely different from before.
She looked at him for a moment and nodded, getting back on her feet.
"Eric, you want to play with us?"
"Sure."
"And I'll just watch," Thon said, limping in.
And so, for what seemed like their final hours before the end of their world, they played and told fun, memorable stories to each other. Eric even told a few stories about the maids back home and some embarrassing moments from school, so embarrassing they made everyone laugh, including Nyangdeng. Eric had been under the impression she hated him, so he was shocked to see her giggling at his stories. He felt as though he might have slightly changed her opinion of him—maybe just a little.
As the hours went by the sun began to set, casting an orange light through the curtains. Their faces were bathed in it, filling them with a sense of warmth as they lay on the floor, heads together, forming a circle. Then a thought popped into Eric's mind: today this nightmare would finally end. A smile appeared on his face. Then he suddenly heard the creak of a door. His eyes darted toward the noise, and he saw Akeer standing there, looking exhausted, blood stains on her shirt and skirt. His eyes widened as he looked at her, her face as beautiful as ever, bathed in the evening sunlight. But what really caught Eric's eye wasn't her beauty—it was her eyes, translucent in the fading light.
Then, glancing down at Eric, still with her exhausted expression, she said,
"Don't do that again."
"Ah. Sorry," Eric said, blushing while feeling embarrassed at the same time.
She went over to her already-packed things and put them on her shoulders. Then she turned to everyone and asked,
"Is everybody ready?"
Before any of them could respond, a loud, blaring noise erupted throughout the town, making Eric's heart skip and flinch.
It was time. The clock struck four.
One by one they got up and gathered their things, ready to go outside without being in constant danger.
"Akeer, you need to stay here with Atem."
"Why?" she asked.
"He'll only slow you down, and I seriously doubt the hospital and pharmacy are even open."
She began to consider it, but before she could reach a conclusion, Thon spoke up first.
"It's better if I stay. …I'm not going to get very far with my leg, so I might as well."
"Thank you."
As they were on their way out of the building they'd come to consider their safe haven, Akeer turned back to Thon and said,
"Make sure nothing happens to my brother."
He nodded, reassuring her with a smile.
As they exited the building, so did many others. They all looked around, nervous. The children of the once-energetic people clung to their parents, too afraid to run around the street. People looked over at their neighbors, as if trying to find someone they knew, until they did—gathering, hugging, tears of joy sliding down the women's faces. But their reunion was short-lived, cut off by the speakers coming on.
"Citizens of Bentiu, please proceed to the town square. Our rally will begin in ten minutes."
The speakers cut off. The people immediately started hurrying down the road, hoisting infants onto their shoulders and backs to move faster.
"Let's go," Akeer said.
"I know a shortcut, right through there," Arop said, pointing to an alley across the street.
Why would anybody want to take a shortcut to that rally? There's a really high chance nothing good will happen there, Eric thought, following them through the alleyway and onto a street. Almost immediately Eric could tell something was wrong. The air was thick with the most putrid smell he'd ever smelled in his life. He'd never smelled anything like it. Everyone immediately covered their noses, and the deeper they went, the more intense it became. Eric suddenly stopped, feeling a splash of liquid against his ankle. He let out a light scream, alerting the others. When they turned around, their expressions morphed into the exact same look of fear.
"Arop, that's not blood…is it?" Nyangdeng said, stepping back, shaking.
Arop didn't respond, his focus entirely on the pool of blood, until Akeer said,
"Let's keep moving."
The farther they walked, the more horrors they witnessed. More and more pools of blood covered the ground, and blood stains marked the shops and building walls.
Eric glanced at Nyangdeng and noticed she was shaking uncontrollably. She closed her eyes, holding her brother's hand, trusting him to lead her safely away from this nightmare. Eric, too, was beginning to feel afraid; his right hand twitched violently, completely beyond his control. He shoved it into his pocket, hoping it would calm down. He looked over at Akeer and Arop; as usual, Arop was as calm as ever, avoiding the puddles of blood as if they were just rainwater, guiding his sister away from them, almost as if numb to it all. As for Akeer, her hand was also shaking, though she seemed to have more control over it than Eric did. Her face was tense, showing a hint of fear but also determination—determination to see it through. He studied her face, watching sweat drip down to her chin and fall into the pool of blood. Eric watched as the blood rippled, sending out waves. Distracted, Eric felt something bump into him. Looking up, he saw it was Arop, staring up at something. What are they looking at? Eric wondered. He glanced over at Akeer; her eyes were wide open, tears leaking down profusely, her legs shaking violently. Eric looked past Arop's shoulder, and suddenly the entire world went quiet. Corpse after corpse littered the streets—hung atop houses, atop buildings, atop the street itself. They were everywhere. Eric noticed blood still leaking from the corpses, pooling on the ground. He also noticed a crow atop a house, staring right at him. For a couple of seconds neither of them wanted to break eye contact, until the crow finally looked away and began feasting on a corpse. He watched as it plucked out an eye, leaving a gaping, bottomless hole. Looking closer he noticed a gun still in the hands of one of the corpses, and Eric realized he must have been part of the revolution—the war had already begun.
Crack.
"Let's turn back," Akeer said, her once-determined voice now weak and broken.
Arop didn't say anything; he tried to guide his sister back, but before he could, she asked,
"What's happening?" she said, opening her eyes.
Arop tried to stop her, but it was too late. It took a second or two for her to fully process the scene before her, but when she did, her eyes and soul shattered. She stumbled back, gasping for air, before letting out a scream—a scream of suffering, one that strangely sounded familiar to Eric. She turned and ran. Arop tried to grab her, but she slipped out of his reach.
"Nyangdeng, come here," he ordered, his voice carrying a hint of worry.
"I'll get her," Akeer said, tears sliding down her cheeks as she ran after her.
Arop turned to Eric with a determined expression and said,
"Let's keep moving forward."
And that's what they did. They ran past it all—past death's grotesque masterpieces. Eric tried not to look, instead forcing his attention on the boy running in front of him with such ease, as if the carnage were as unremarkable as the weather. A memory replayed in Eric's mind: I'm not as strong as you think, Eric. He could never understand it—how could he, when he was witnessing the greatest feat of strength he'd ever seen? A boy just a couple months or a year his senior, ignoring the most frightening scene around him with such ease, was simply unimaginable to Eric. For a moment he wondered if he could ever hope to be as strong as the boy running ahead of him. He wondered this until they reached the town square. It was filled to the brim with the town's population, all waiting nervously for news that would decide their very lives.
"Excuse me," Arop said, pushing past people.
Without resistance, everyone let him through. It was as if they were too tired and afraid to care, and besides, nobody wanted a front-row seat to news that might devastate their future.
Eric and Arop found a spot where they could see the president of South Sudan deliver the news to his people. Would they be drafted into war or not?
"Please be quiet as our president makes his appearance," a voice on the speaker said.
Immediately everyone fell quiet. Eric could feel the tension in the air.
He looked up, standing on his toes to get a good view. Then he saw a man in his mid-thirties, his presence powerful. The closer he got to the crowd, the harder Eric's heart pounded. He got close enough for Eric to see him fully. He was tall—Eric estimated his height at six foot five or six—his figure large, but with muscle, not fat. Eric was sure that if he stood beside the man, he'd look like a twig.
"Good evening, my people. I'm sure you all already know who I am, so let's skip introductions. On May 23, 2027, I received reports of a potential uprising. I don't know what their motives were, but that doesn't matter, because we will crush them nonetheless. Yesterday night we carried out a mass cleaning of the entire town. We checked suspicious buildings, and even ventured underground into the sewers, and what we saw were these rats."
The president signaled his men. One by one they unlocked a large cage, taking a black cloth off it, revealing piles of dead corpses—men, women, children—all varied.
Crack.
Eric could hear the sobbing of women and children in the huge crowd. Then his arms and legs began shaking uncontrollably, tears filling his eyes. No matter how hard he tried to hold them back, they escaped anyway.
"My people, these aren't just rats—they're traitors. My informers tell me they were planning to destroy this country and take our wealth for themselves, allying with other countries plotting against us. Inflation, genocide, famine—they would use everything in their arsenal to destroy us, normal or not. Had we not wiped these vermin out when we did, they would have escaped through various underground networks and terrorized our local towns and cities. They would have made life no different from hell for our people, but luckily I was able to stop it in time. My people, behold—these are the surviving rats of our extermination."
The soldiers brought out the captured rebels and lined them up. The crowd gasped and began whispering among themselves. Eric scanned their faces—all mixed with hopelessness and fear. Suddenly a woman caught Eric's eye. Eric prayed his eyes were deceiving him, but the longer he looked the more he realized they weren't. Arop also saw the woman, but his expression didn't change—stone-still, as if nothing could surprise him at this point. The woman both boys were staring at was none other than the lady from the rebel camp—Arop's mother.
"My people, these are the rats who were going to destroy your livelihoods. They were going to take away everything you've ever worked for, for themselves and for our enemies. But we won't let them. We won't let them take what we've built. My people, we're at war—at war with the world—and we can either fight to defend what's ours, or die giving up everything we've ever built. It's either fight or die. Our enemies aren't merciful in the slightest—rape, murder, raiding, pillaging, nothing is beneath them. So we must take up arms and become the soldiers of our country. Death will be our trade, and murder our currency. My people, I implore you to answer the call, for the sake of the people you love. Give up your lives and fight for our country. Together we'll crush our enemies and bring our dreams into reality."
The crowd erupted in whispers, trying to decide—fight for their country and defend their lives, or remain docile and accept occupation by their enemies.
Eric looked to his left and saw soldiers standing in unison, holding out guns and uniforms to the crowd. It was the same all around him—soldiers smiling, offering the promise of power and the ability to change their fates. Eric heard the whispers grow and morph into rallying cries of men shouting in support of the coming war. They rushed to the soldiers, accepting their new status as soldiers, people who'd decided to accept their leader's blessing to carry out their own change. The soldiers smiled, embracing them as new comrades. Eric watched in shock. Where were all the people who'd been afraid and disgusted with their own leader and nation moments before? Where did all that go? Were they so easily persuaded? Eric thought.
"My people, we still have problems to address."
The crowd turned their full attention to him.
"What do we do with these surviving rats? We can't have them running around our lands, spreading their disease among us, now can we."
"Kill them."
"Let the dogs eat them."
"Torture them."
"Whip them."
"Kill them on public television for the world to see."
"Peel their skin off."
The once-faithful crowd turned into a howling mass of monsters, all fueled by fear and hatred. Suddenly Eric's vision began to blur, and the crowd around him morphed into reddish-black demons, like the ones from his dreams, their bodies covered in the same reddish-black flame. To Eric it seemed as though they were in agony, but also as though they were relieved—relieved to finally be granted a hero who would bring them salvation. Eric returned to reality, and as the crowd raged, cycling through torture method after torture method, he finally had enough.
"What's wrong with all of you? Have you all forgotten your humanity?"
The square went silent. They all turned their attention to a boy looking up at their president, rage in his eyes. Arop tried to silence him, but he wouldn't be silenced.
"How could all of you abandon your humanity so easily, just because you've been confronted by a threat? That's still no excuse to abandon your humanity."
The entire square erupted in laughter.
"Shut your mouth, little boy. You don't know what you're talking about."
"He said we abandoned our humanity. Whose child is this?"
They laughed louder and louder, mocking him. Arop grabbed him, trying to pull him and Eric away from the attention. But Eric slipped from his grip.
"Listen, Mr. President, and that goes for every one of you monsters—I don't care what you think of me. Mock me all you want, but if you're going to kill them…at least…grant them a humane death. …Please," Eric said, getting down on his knees, begging, his head lowered all the way to the ground, showing how badly he wanted his request heard. The crowd laughed even louder, mocking him, calling him all kinds of names, insulting him and his entire family, his intelligence, calling him a dog, spitting at him, throwing stones and other things. But Eric closed his eyes and bore through it all. He looked up once more at the president, who was smiling right at him, then motioned the crowd toward the captives. They were being loaded back into their cages, looking almost relieved, happy that the little boy might have saved their lives. Once they were all in, the president turned to his people, smiled, and said,
"Behold, this is what we shall do to our enemies."
Eric's heart dropped to his gut.
"No," he screamed, but it had no effect.
The soldiers doused the captives in gasoline. They began begging for their lives, begging the crowd to save them, but their screams only excited the crowd further. No matter the volume, their screams would never reach the humanity of the already-turned demons.
Then, without a care, a soldier threw a lighter at the individual cages, setting the captives ablaze. They screamed, screamed for any god out there to save them, but none came. The crowd went wild with cheers and applause. Eric looked at them in disbelief. What about this was cause for celebration? he wondered. His eyes began leaking; he didn't know if it was from the smoke or from witnessing the most monstrous thing he'd ever seen in his life. Either way it didn't matter. He'd failed again. The president turned toward the groveling, crying boy before him, his face lit with a smile. He was about to say something when a loud sound struck the air. The president staggered back, clutching his arm. The crowd gasped—their president's arm was bleeding. Almost immediately after, loud explosions rang out through the entire town, followed by gunshots.
"They're here," Eric heard someone yell.
Almost immediately the entire crowd scattered in panic. Arop grabbed Eric by the arm and pulled him to his feet.
"We need to run," he shouted.
He began running, pulling Eric behind him.
Eric was in a trance, his legs feeling as though they could give out at any moment. But somehow he kept his balance.
Arop and Eric ran through the town, hearing gunshots that seemed to be mere meters away. Eric glanced up at the sky with his already-teary eyes. It was a helicopter, seeming to move in slow motion as it hovered over Bentiu, firing round after round of bullets. Eric could see something protruding from it—is that…a rocket? he thought, as the helicopter fired several of them, sending explosions ringing through the air. Suddenly he felt something sting the back of his neck; he looked up and saw that the once-beautiful evening sun had long since disappeared, along with its light, replaced by thick, dark clouds that completely blocked the sky. Then a downpour of rain fell. Now screaming, gunshots, explosions, and rain—the beautiful sound of rain contributed to the perfect, terrible music of death, ringing out at every corner, tormenting Eric's ears, until he'd had enough. He stopped and broke free of Arop's grip, kneeling, his spirit defeated.
"Eric, we don't have time for this. Get up," Arop shouted, trying to get him back on his feet. But Eric refused, convinced it was the end for him.
"You can go find the others by yourself. …You were right, Arop. No matter what I do, I can't outrun my destiny. I just can't; it's impossible. There's no reason for me to live anymore. I've been trying to convince myself you were wrong, that humans and beasts aren't one and the same. But today I found out you were right—there's no saving them. No matter how hard I try to save someone, destiny always intervenes. You were right about everything, Arop."
Arop stood in front of him in silence as the rain completely soaked them both.
"What happened to proving me wrong, Eric? Last night you told me you were going to. Where did that fire go?" he asked, but Eric remained silent, looking away.
"Listen to me, Eric. Life is predestined, whether we like it or not. We're all going to die one day, whether we like it or not. We don't have a say in the things that happen all around us; hell, we don't even have a say in how we act and react. But for your sake, Eric, keep believing in your philosophy. You're not yet strong enough to bear looking at the world with the same eyes I do. So keep clinging to your innocence, at least a bit longer," he said, hoisting Eric up.
He thinks I'm weak. And he's right. I am. When will I ever be strong? When will I stop needing someone to save me? When will I— he thought to himself. They ran across streets and through alleyways, hearing the horrifying sound of death at every corner, until it looked like they were close. Then all of a sudden something crashed into them, sending them into a zinc fence. Before he could even look up, Eric saw a shin swinging toward his face. Before he could react, he was sent flying into Arop. Pain immediately shot through his face; his trembling hands touched his nose and came away bloody, dripping down profusely. Arop was yelling something to Eric, probably asking if he was okay, but between the sound of the rain, gunfire, explosions, and his own distorted senses, he could barely hear anything besides his own restless breathing.
He looked up and saw the soldier approaching, a long baton in his hands. Eric tried to stand, but his strength failed him. His limbs trembled; he tried to regain control of them, but to no avail. It almost seemed as if his body was defying him, or rather lagging behind his will, as if all the emotions he'd experienced in such a short period had left it unable to function according to his wishes.
"You just had to open your mouth," the man said, approaching them.
Eric's head began to throb, his eardrums pulsing, his eyelids growing heavy, his vision fading into darkness. The last thing he saw was Arop charging at the soldier before his eyelids gave out on him.