Seventh Dimension - The King - Book 2, A Young Adult Fantasy Read Online Free Page A

Men
with bewildered looks wandered by. Not everyone wore a mask. Women
sobbed. I started to head back to our apartment and then stopped. I
had to know if Lilly was okay.
    I turned
towards Hurva Square. The new synagogue stood where the old one had
been before its destruction in 1948. The Arabs burned it to the
ground. The medics had treated General Goren in the makeshift
hospital in the synagogue after he suffered a near mortal wound.
Too many had died to keep Jerusalem from the Arabs. In the end, the
Jews failed. That we would use it again as a hospital felt
surreal.
    The dog stayed
with me as I walked through the hazy streets. The cafes were closed
and the usually crowded souvenir shops were deserted. The thick
smoke showed no sign of dissipating.
    I arrived at
the synagogue and told the dog to wait outside the door for me. I
paused before entering—suppose she was hungry. I reached into my
pocket and pulled out an energy bar. “Here’s something to
eat.”
    She greedily
gobbled it down.
    I grabbed a
discarded plastic cup from a table and poured her some water from
my water bottle. She lapped it up. The smoke had made her
thirsty.
    Patting her on
the head, I said reassuringly, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She
whimpered and crouched on the steps.
    She was too obedient not to belong to somebody.
    When I entered
the synagogue, the worship center buzzed with activity. Cots lined
the walls with injured and hurting people. Cries drifted from
several beds. Medics and nurses were everywhere. A quiet calm
existed but the intensity of the suffering was enormous. I took off
my gas mask and set it in a corner.
    A man came up to me and handed me blankets. “Give
these out to those who need them.”
    “Yes, sir.” I handed out the blankets to anyone who
asked. I looked into the eyes of the hurting—I wished I could offer
hope. Did God even care? If he did, why did he allow this to
happen?
    I felt a tug on my pants and looked down at a young
boy. He held a small teddy bear in his arms. “Do you know where my
mommy is?”
    I crouched down to his eye level. “No, I don’t. When
did you last see her?”
    The young boy
looked away. “I don’t know. It was a long time ago.”
    “What about your dad, do you know where he is?” I
asked.
    “He died,” he said unemotionally.
    Did he
understand what that meant? “How do you know that?”
    “The man put a sheet over him.”
    I embraced the boy in my arms. How could I find his
mother?
    Then a young woman approached. “David!”
    The little boy let go of me and ran into her arms. I
rejoiced over their reunion before I looked into the eyes of
another victim.
    “Thank you,”
his mother said. She appeared too overwhelmed to say more, covering
her face with her hair. I watched as she carried the boy out of the
synagogue.
     
     

CHAPTER 5
SUFFERING
     
     
    The wounded kept arriving.
    “Help me,” a voice cried.
    I rushed over
to an elderly man on a cot. His face was cut and pieces of shard
glass clung to his matted hair. His bandaged hands crisscrossed his
stomach, which appeared distended from internal injuries. I
crouched in front of him as his arms and legs shook.
    “My wife and daughter, do you know where they are?”
he rasped.
    I shook my head. I laid a blanket over his body to
keep him warm. “Can I get you anything?”
    He closed his eyes. Was it from pain or did he die?
If only I were a doctor.
    He reopened his eyes and said weakly. “My
wallet—pocket. Picture. Please find my wife and daughter.”
    I dug into the man’s pocket but came up with
nothing.
    “Other one,” the man said.
    I went around
to the other side of the makeshift bed and stuck my fingers inside
his front pocket. I pulled out what appeared to be a wallet. When I
opened it, several credit cards fell out, along with a photograph.
I stared at it. “Is this your daughter, Lilly?”
    “You know her?”
He asked.
    I nodded.
“Where should I look first, like—where do you live?” The man