Majdi Mansoor and the Book of Miracles

Majdi Mansoor and the BOOK OF MIRACLES

ANISA BEZAK

Majdi Mansoor and the Book of Miracles

First Published in 2023 by THE ISLAMIC FOUNDATION

Distributed by KUBE PUBLISHING LTD

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Text copyright © Anisa Bezak, 2023

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner

Author: Anisa Bezak

Editor: Asma Anwar

Cover Design: Laura Barrett

Layout and Typesetting: Nasir Cadir

A Cataloguing-in-Publication Data record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN 978-0-86037-828-0

eISBN 978-0-86037-833-4

For my Ummah and for the Seeker

Chapter 1 TREASURE

‘Guide

us to the straight path …’

JACOB averted his gaze as Tyler’s foot connected with the boy’s face. He could block the sight – but not the sound. A distinctive crunch, followed by an anguished cry, alerted him to the fact that the kid’s nose was probably broken. Jacob looked around nervously and silently wished he was a hundred miles away.

“Whoa! We got a gusher!” exclaimed Riley in macabre delight.

“Gusher …” chortled Mooch, his cherubic face a picture of innocent amusement.

Tyler stepped back to view his handiwork . He smiled satisfactorily, his chipped and broken teeth just visible through the strands of long, greasy hair overhanging his pimply face.

Jacob also regarded the twelve-year-old huddled on the ground. The boy’s hands were clamped over what was left of his nose and blood was pouring down his face, dripping onto his clothes as he moaned in pain. Jacob gave a quiet sigh, though he was careful to keep his expression one of bored indifference. All this – over a pair of sunglasses.

Riley had decided that he needed a new pair for the gang’s next venture and had ripped them from the boy’s face as they passed him on the street. The boy had protested loudly – too loudly.

“I’ll inform on you!”

For that mild statement, he had been bundled unceremonious -ly into a dark, quiet alley. But the boy had remained surprisingly unrepentant. Surprising, because Mooch’s baby-blue eyes, button nose and round rosy mouth were situated on top of a gigantic, block shaped teen – Cupid on steroids. Usually, Mooch’s mere presence was enough for the gang to have their way, his enormous bulk eclipsing all hope, and most of the sunlight, as he towered over his hapless victims.

“I will! I’ll tell the Corp Guards!” the boy had squeaked defiantly, “And then you’ll all be in big trouble!”

“And how are you going to prove that it was us?” Riley had asked as he leaned over the boy, his sharp, pointed chin perilously close to the boy’s face.

Riley’s entire body resembled a collection of sharp, dangerous points; from his spikey black hair and beaky nose, down to his skinny, jutting elbows and knees. But Jacob knew from bitter experience that it was the gang leader’s sharp temper that one had to be the wariest of.

The boy had given a smug smile and held out his arm. Circling his wrist was a thin, metal cord attached to a flat, shiny disc. He pointed to Riley’s boney wrist, the same metallic bracelet upon it.

“Our IDiscs will prove that we were here!” He had sneered insolently up into Riley’s face. “Seeing is believing. You can’t touch me.”

Riley had gasped in fake surprise. “Oh, really? Your IDisc can prove the existence of Ghosts?”

The boy’s sneer had been wiped from his face in an instant; replaced by a look of abject fear.

“Oh no,” he had whimpered pathetically.

“Oh yes,” Tyler had said happily.

“Seeing is believing,” mocked Riley.

This was about the moment that Jacob had looked away. He was noticeably younger than the other three gang members; the type of boy you might see running through green meadows on sunny days, having adventures on bicycles, or exploring rock pools at the beach.

However, a closer look at Jacob’s pale complexion and the sadness reflected in his hazel eyes, and you would realize that he had never experienced any of those things. His height was average, his build slim, and he wore his dark auburn hair short, owing to its annoying habit of curling into ringlets the moment it was left to its own devices.

The boy’s similar age and plight reminded Jacob of his own first encounter with the gang. He almost envied the boy’s broken nose; at least his punishment was over. Jacob had been given a much harsher, more prolonged sentence for his alleged crimes.

He gave another quiet sigh of regret, and made another futile, silent wish. He wished he wasn’t so terribly curious about … about everything! It wasn’t that Jacob considered curiosity to be a bad thing; indeed, he rather liked his curious nature. The problem was – Jacob’s streak of curiosity bordered on the fanatical, which made it significantly harder to control, or hide.

When Jacob asked his second-grade teacher, Ms. Patil, why the sky was blue, she had tactfully suggested – wouldn’t it be much more fun to draw a lovely picture of the blue sky instead? His third-grade teacher, Ms. Belcher, red-faced with exasperation from Jacob’s incessant questions ‘about everything’, had declared shrilly that ‘curiosity was a hindrance to learning!’

When Jacob asked her why, she told him to stand in the corner and direct any future questions to the wall. How the children had laughed at him!

In fourth grade, a forewarned Ms. Chen had given the class a cautionary lecture regarding the dangers of curiosity. Never make friends with a curious child, she advised kindly, they will always lead you into trouble. Unfortunately, (or deliberately) she had chosen to stand right beside Jacob’s desk as she gave this lecture, drawing every child’s eye to him.

Jacob became friendless from that moment on. Curiosity was not welcome in his world, so neither was he. By grade five, Jacob had stopped asking questions.

But he never stopped being curious (about everything).

Over the years, Jacob had to admit – Ms. Chen’s warnings had proven to be correct. More often than not, Jacob’s curiosity led him straight into trouble. And although his current predicament had been set in motion by a rather peculiar set of circumstances, he knew, that once again, curiosity was to blame.

His present troubles began in their usual way.

Every day, Jacob ate his school lunch outside in the playground. It was empty and peaceful at this time as the other children usually ate inside, in the school’s cafeteria. Jacob preferred to eat by himself outside, rather than sit alone at an empty table in the cafeteria, surrounded by other children sitting and eating with friends. His solitude seemed less noticeable in the empty space.

He had only taken one huge bite of his cheese sandwich when he noticed something: something curious. A large flashing sign had been placed in the far corner of his school grounds, directly in front of the old school building.

Jacob sauntered over immediately, his sandwich forgotten, and stared with growing interest at the sign’s gleaming surface. ‘Keep Out!’, ‘Condemned Building!’, ‘Extreme Danger!’, ‘Strictly OffLimits!’, ‘Do Not Enter!’, ‘Demolition in Progress!’ the sign warned repetitively, in glowing bright red lumo-letters.

The subject of that warning, the old school building, had been

there for as long as anyone could remember. A monument to neglect, the years of quiet rot had taken their toll on the structure and the building had recently acquired a noticeable lean, sealing its fate. Jacob had never displayed more than a passing interest in that dilapidated edifice – that is – until he saw the sign.

Its effect upon him was immediate, though somewhat misplaced. As a deterrent, the sign failed spectacularly; its bold language and vivid colour producing quite the opposite effect upon the inquisitive boy. With his curiosity soaring to new heights, Jacob decided that he simply had to explore that entire structure. Clutching his sandwich tightly, Jacob ducked quickly behind the sign and slipped unseen through the building’s unlocked entrance.

The first room he encountered was unremarkable; merely a large, empty dusty space. Jacob headed off towards the rooms at the back of the building, hoping they might show more promise, when suddenly, he felt a slight, worrying tremor. He halted abruptly, dropping his sandwich, and looked down uneasily – just in time to see the floor (and the sandwich) disappear from under his feet.

He fell – but only as far as the room below, landing unhurt in a soft mound of some strange, tattered substance. A broad beam of sunlight streamed into the darkness (courtesy of the new hole in the roof) and Jacob blinked in surprise. It appeared to be snowing inside the room.

A cluster of small, pale flakes drifted slowly down onto him, joining the thick blanket that covered almost the entire floor. Wondering what it all meant, Jacob examined a handful of the flakes. It was the same tattered stuff he had fallen into; his rapid entrance must have sent a cloud of it shooting into the air.

Jacob got to his feet somewhat cautiously. He shuffled forward a few hesitant steps and then stumbled on something, hidden deep beneath the snowy flakes. He bent down, cleared away the debris

and uncovered a small, rectangular wooden board. A faint lettering showed through the dust on the board’s surface, and after a few hefty wipes with his sleeve, Jacob was able to read, ‘Classic Book Section’.

A thrill of excitement coursed through Jacob. He had inadvertently discovered a secret, underground library! And a pre-War one at that, judging by the lettering on the sign. Jacob checked the dusty board again. Yes, the sign definitely said ‘Book’ not Vidbook! Another sharp thrill leapt through Jacob.

This abundant excitement was due to a rather astonishing fact – Jacob had never read a real book before. He was an avid reader (partly due to loneliness but mainly due to curiosity) and had read many books, but not the kind with pages you could turn. The children in his world read from Vidbooks, Visual Image Device books.

As their name aptly described, these clever devices could either play a cinematic version of the story they contained, with visuals and sound, or they could be read as a book with plain text. Most children, however, tapped play when prompted by the brightly lit screen, but Jacob always tapped read, preferring the rich imagery provided by his own powerful imagination.

He surmised, that just as the building above him had fallen into decay and disuse, so had the library as Vidbooks became the norm after the War. The library and its precious contents had been sealed off and forgotten. But where were all the books? Had they been destroyed? Had they been moved to another location? Or –had they been left upon their shelves, shunned and abandoned?

Jacob scoured his dim surroundings eagerly. The room resembled the aftermath of a hurricane. Bookcases, chairs and desks of every size lay in a heaped, tangled mess upon the floor, partially buried by the snowy carpet of pale flakes. But he didn’t glimpse a single book.

A sudden idea struck Jacob. Perhaps some of the books had

been trapped beneath the jumbled wreckage! He fell to his knees and burrowed furiously, shovelling the snowy flakes away from under one of the dislodged bookcases. He pictured his prize, a large showy tome, and imagined himself opening the stiff, hard cover and then turning that first page … that first paper page …

A sad realisation dawned on Jacob’s face. Before the War, books were made of paper. He stood up and opened his hands, letting the tattered pale flakes fall to the floor. He had found the books.

Disgruntled and disappointed, Jacob began searching about for a means to return to the surface. He spied a tall, solid bookcase just behind him, near the hole in the roof, still miraculously attached to the library’s wall. After a quick test of the bookcase’s strength, Jacob began his climb – but he didn’t get very far.

He had just placed his weight on one of the thick timber shelves, about half-way up, when he felt another ominous wobble coming from beneath his feet. Jacob exhaled a weary sigh as a loud crack sounded. The shelf broke away from the bookcase and he found himself back on the floor again.

But his resentful glare at the treacherous bookcase turned swiftly into wide-eyed delight. In the empty space left by the shelf, he could see a small, hidden compartment. Jacob scrambled to his feet and peered with feverish anticipation into the roughly chiselled opening.

Within the dark, compact space, lay a small book – still intact.

As Jacob reached for the book, a few pertinent questions began to form in his mind. Why would somebody hide a book in a library? Why would anybody even need to hide a book? And why had somebody gone to so much trouble to hide this book?

And then, after reading the title, he knew why. Embossed in golden lettering upon the midnight-blue cover were two words: ‘The Quran’.

Jacob drew in a hissing breath. Of all the forbidden books in

his world, this was the most forbidden, and (so they said) the most dangerous. Jacob eyed the book warily as if it was a dormant monster about to awake and devour him. What should he do with it?

An ordinary type of boy would have crammed it straight back into the hole or left it on the floor to disintegrate slowly along with all the other books. But Jacob wasn’t an ordinary type of boy, he was an extremely curious type of boy, which would probably explain why a particularly forbidden third option suddenly presented itself to him. It took Jacob one full second to decide …

Then he opened the book.

He just wanted to have a quick look … just to see what the fuss was all about … and what he saw on that page!

But there was no time for further investigation. An uneasy glance at the disc on his wrist settled the matter; they would know if he skipped class. Jacob thrust the book into his pocket and resumed his climb back up the bookcase, back to his world.

It wasn’t until the end of that longer-than-usual school day, that Jacob was able to rush off to his so-called ‘secret hideaway’. This was merely an old doorless shed situated behind the school dormitories; hardly a secret, or completely hidden, but it was private enough for his current purposes. Jacob was going to read the book – he had to.

And this was why he didn’t notice the gang sneaking up on him. Too late, Jacob thought he heard some half-muffled footsteps (stealth wasn’t Mooch’s major skill) and only had time to shove the book under the old blanket he was sitting on before coming face to face with Riley, Mooch and Tyler.

Although Jacob was startled by the sudden appearance of the gang, he wasn’t frightened. He had a defense for this kind of situation. A defense that couldn’t be overcome easily by such dullards as Riley, Mooch or Tyler.

As is often the case with curious children; Jacob was also intel-

ligent. He possessed an exceptionally bright mind, a spark of real intelligence in a dull grey world that sought to extinguish such sparks before they could ignite into free thinkers.

Jacob carefully hid that intelligence from the world, and from other children, but particularly from the teachers at his school. Smart children had a sinister habit of suddenly disappearing, so Jacob was careful to ensure that his test scores remained decidedly average.

Deprived of an intellectual outlet, Jacob channelled his brilliance into comedy, jokes and caricatures of everything and everyone he came into contact with. His wit kept him sane – and safe. If the bullies found him amusing, they were less likely to attack.

Though it was no laughing matter when the gang discovered that Jacob did not possess a single item worth stealing. Not even a sweet, Mooch had grumbled, after checking Jacob’s pockets meticulously in the hope of finding some sugary treats. For this heinous crime, Jacob was given the unpleasant choice of being beaten to a pulp, by either Mooch or Tyler.

But within a short space of time, it was Mooch and Tyler who needed help, sent into gales of laughter by Jacob’s comical debate as he deliberated over his choice of thug. Even the superior Riley snickered loudly at Jacob’s hilarious description of his impending injuries – much to Jacob’s relief. His relief turned rapidly to dismay, however, when Riley decided that Jacob was just what the gang needed; a gang jester, so to speak.

At first Jacob tried to convince himself that the gang might be good for him. It would offer him protection, and maybe even a few of the ill-gotten gains would be thrown his way. But he soon concluded that he sincerely hated his fellow gang members, and their methods, but Jacob knew he was trapped, until he could figure a safe way to release himself from Riley’s favour.

That solution had been rather slow in coming, and so, three

long months later – he was still with the gang, and still, strangely, the owner of a banned book. The Quran had become a constant, hidden companion in Jacob’s pocket as he was too afraid of discovery to leave it anywhere else.

He kept telling himself that he would throw it away after he had finished reading it, but he had finished it. It was still in his pocket, he was still reading it, and he didn’t quite know why.

Sometimes Jacob wished there was someone he could talk to about it, someone who could explain it to him, but that was impossible. There were none of those people left in his world.

“Hey, Jake. Jake!”

Jacob snapped back to reality.

“I said – do you want this kid’s jacket?” Riley was demanding impatiently. He gave the helpless boy a few last kicks. “He’s about your size.”

Jacob gave the boy’s blood-spattered jacket a quick look of disgust. “No thanks, I already have one with the same pattern on it from the last time Tyler broke someone’s nose,” he replied flatly.

The teens gave a guffaw of laughter.

“Ah Jakey, you’re such good value,” sniggered Riley in amusement. “Anyway, we’ve wasted enough time on this piece of scum. We’ve got some treasure hunting to do!”

The gang exited the quiet alley, making their way back quickly into the more populous main street. Jacob followed reluctantly; his troubled thoughts focused on the next item of the gang’s agenda. Riley was keeping an unusual silence regarding the details of his ‘treasure hunt’, and Jacob felt an ominous foreboding in the pit of his stomach.

Riley led the way at a brisk pace, turning this way and that along the bustling city’s winding streets. Jacob noticed, with increasing unease, that they were edging ever closer to the high, grey wall that enclosed and protected Tanas Corp City 92795. Finally, Riley

led them down a short street that appeared to dead end at the wall itself. But as they approached, a small lane appeared on their left, running parallel with the city wall.

“Quick, in here!” rasped Riley, giving a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure they weren’t seen or followed.

The narrow lane appeared to be another dead end, and Jacob wondered at its purpose, until he noticed the grey door, barely visible against the grey, lane wall. Riley removed a small, hand-made gadget from the pocket of his jacket.

“I finished this just last night, should come in very handy. Watch this.”

He pressed the device against the door’s opening mechanism. Within seconds, an audible click sounded, and the door slid open. Mooch, Tyler and Jacob gave a collective ‘ah’ of surprise.

“You could sell that!” Mooch exclaimed in awe, visibly impressed.

“Yeah, I can see the ad now,” said Jacob dryly and he affected a slick salesman’s-like voice. “Are you fed up with noisy breaking and entering? Then you should buy – Riley’s Burglary Device – don’t break, just enter!”

Riley gave an amused snort. “I’ll think about it,” he replied self-importantly, waving them inside. “It’ll open just about anything,” he boasted, adding in a quieter tone, “as long as there’s no attached alarm system.”

The gang shuffled inside the dark building and waited while Riley closed the door behind them. He locked it securely, before activating the light. The light revealed a small room, only a few yards long and as wide. Mooch and Tyler surveyed the entire scene with disappointed faces. The only objects in the room appeared to be some ancient pieces of janitorial equipment covered in a thick layer of dust.

“Where’s the treasure?” Mooch whined in a pouting tone. “You said there’d be treasure!”

“It’s not in here, obviously,” replied Riley sarcastically. He pointed at the large, metal grill on the wall opposite. “It’s through there.”

Jacob’s feelings of foreboding intensified. He knew in which direction the grill faced, and he also knew why Riley had kept his plans to himself. Mooch and Tyler were still clueless, laughing and clowning around as Riley produced a small screwdriver from his pocket. He proceeded to unscrew the bolts holding the metal grill to the wall.

“But where are we going, Riley?” persisted Mooch. “Where’s the treasure?”

Riley swung open the grill. With a fancy flourish, he gestured at the dim hole and announced dramatically, “Outside!”

Mooch and Tyler stared at the hole in stunned disbelief. Finally, Jacob thought scornfully, rolling his eyes behind their backs.

“Outside?” echoed Mooch with heavy uncertainty.

“Outside.”

Although Tyler frowned at the word, Jacob was certain he detected a whiff of dangerous excitement coming from the teen.

“What if we’re caught?”

“We won’t! My plan’s foolproof,” replied Riley confidently. He leaned in closer, his sharp features alive with excitement. “And the risk will be worth it! My informer says there’s a whole crate of tech out there, not far from here, just waiting for someone smart enough to go and get it!”

“I … I dunno about this, Riley,” stammered Mooch uneasily. “Isn’t the outside still … you know … from the War?”

“You mean contaminated?”

Mooch gave a quick nod and Jacob wondered how Riley would dismiss that glaring fact. Everyone knew this was one of the major reasons for the wall being built and why nothing from the ‘outside’ was permitted inside the city.

Jacob didn’t know what lay beyond the city’s walls, and neither did anyone else (as far as he knew). Urban myths had circulated over the years, each one more ridiculous than the last, and although Jacob didn’t believe in any of those tall tales, he still felt a twinge of uneasiness just approaching the city’s wall. In fact, he deemed that the high, grey walls and watchful guards were barely necessary anymore. Even without the threat of contamination, there were plenty of other reasons why no one wanted to leave the city.

“ That was sixteen years ago, all the real bad contamination would be gone by now,” scoffed Riley, waving away Mooch’s protests with a flippant hand. “And anyway, we’re not going to be out there for long. We just grab the crate, bring it back, sell the tech, and spend the credits!”

Mooch and Tyler considered his reply for a moment. Jacob was silent; his opinions were neither welcome nor wanted by the gang. His own feelings regarding the venture were a strange mix. It was an extreme risk to take. No one was allowed to leave the city without Corp permission … if they were caught outside … Jacob shuddered … and yet, part of him (he knew which part) yearned for this new, great unknown.

“Alright, we’re in,” agreed Tyler finally. Mooch nodded in the background.

“We risk it for the biscuit.” Jacob uttered the gang’s motto wearily, thinking, ‘Greed triumphs over sense’ would be a far more appropriate slogan.

“Okay, follow me,” said Riley, grinning triumphantly.

He clambered up into the opening. The others followed in complete silence, unusually subdued. Beyond the entrance lay a dimly lit tunnel, also circular in shape, and although fairly large in size, not quite high enough for a man to stand in, so the taller teens had to hunch over slightly.

“Down here,” said Riley, the faint light showing that the tunnel

turned sharply to their left.

Jacob padded along quietly behind the gang. “We must be inside the wall itself,” he remarked, thinking aloud. “I wonder what this was used for?”

“It’s an old service exit,” replied Riley, bragging eagerly about his elusive find. “It was probably used by people doing repairs on the outside of the wall and was just forgotten about. Anyway, shut it, we’re near the opening.”

The tunnel turned again, this time to the right, and the boys were forced to squint at the sudden bright sunshine streaming through another large, open hole – the exit to the outside.

Riley didn’t need to enforce silence. Mooch, Tyler and Jacob were staring at the alien world just yards from them in openmouthed shock.

“Listen up!” hissed Riley, breaking the spell. “ There are two cams on the wall just above this tunnel, and there’s a guard tower further down. The guards won’t be a problem, they’ll be watching their screens. The cams rotate away from each other which gives us about five seconds to get into …” he gave their destination a guarded look, “… to get into that. I’ll check where the cams are and then I’ll count to three. We run on three.”

Discussion wasn’t on offer and there wasn’t even time to think – Riley was already peering carefully up at the surveillance cameras from the hole’s inside rim. He relayed his instructions in an urgent whisper.

“Not yet … the cams are pointing this way … wait … okay … one … two … three!”

Jacob burst from the hole in a panic, sprinting as fast as he could across the dangerous open space, his eyes fixed solely on his objective, not knowing or caring where the others were. The last few yards seemed endless, how many seconds did he have left?

Jacob screwed his eyes shut tightly as he hurled himself for-

ward, crashing through the boundary, tripping and rolling blindly, before coming to rest in a tight, curled ball.

He listened intently, panting in terror, his every breath tasting of an unknown perfume. From overhead, he could hear the harsh cries of startled birds sounding a warning, but thankfully, there were no alarms issuing from the city. Jacob breathed out a huge sigh of relief, uncurled his limbs, and opened his eyes.

“Green.”

It had to be his first word, his first impression, that colour being so rare in his world. But this place was nothing like his world.

It was wild and frightening; it was chaos and beauty; it was a forest. A forest that had been left to itself, free to grow and thrive along its natural, intended design.

Still prone upon the forest floor, Jacob’s sight ascended with the tree trunks as they reached towards the light, and the promise of life. He had glimpsed (on rare occasions) a few tamer versions of plants and trees back in the city, but nothing on this scale. Nature was the master here and Jacob shivered in the presence of these timber giants.

Jacob wasn’t afraid for long though; his curiosity wouldn’t let him.

He sat up and gazed about in wonder, the abundance of green surprisingly cool and easy on his eyes. A pleasant pattern of dappled light and shade danced over him as a gentle breeze stirred within the lofty forest canopy. Jacob inhaled the crisp, fresh air deeply; the scents were from living things, earthy and fragrant. High above him, the forest’s feathered residents had resumed their usual chirp and chatter, and from close by, he could hear the bubbly trickling and murmuring sounds of moving water.

Jacob found all these observations arriving at a surprising conclusion. He realized (to his great astonishment) that he rather liked this bizarre new environment! Jacob stretched out comfort-

ably upon the soft mossy groundcover, laced his fingers behind his head, and closed his eyes in peaceful repose. And for just one moment … all his troubles disappeared.

They reappeared suddenly in the form of a sharp kick to his ribs as a familiar voice enquired acidly, “Enjoying ourselves, are we?”

Jacob’s eyes flew open and he jumped to his feet with a start! He’d forgotten all about the gang and the treasure hunt! Riley, Mooch and Tyler were all present – but not so correct.

Riley was wearing his poker face, but it didn’t fool Jacob; uneasiness oozed from every pore in Riley’s mask. Tyler’s paranoia shone like a badge. He scanned the forest relentlessly in quick, sharp movements – a thousand unknown dangers lurking behind every bush and tree. Only Mooch appeared slightly more at home with the environment, his complexion having turned a corresponding shade of light green.

“Okay, we made it,” said Riley, stating the obvious. “Now, we just need to find the stream and …”

“It’s over there,” responded Jacob quickly, pointing over his shoulder in the direction of the water sounds.

“Yes, thank you, Professor!” snapped Riley in reply. “So, we just follow the stream until we find the crate, easy.”

With a baleful look at the sunlight, Riley pulled out the stolen sunglasses from his pocket and placed them onto his smug face. “Knew these would come in handy.” He gave Jacob a shove in the direction of the stream. “You know all about it so you can go first.”

Jacob set off, pushing his way through the dense underbrush, the gang in tow behind him. Within a short minute, they found themselves at the grassy bank of a narrow, winding stream.

“Which way now?” Jacob asked.

Riley peered indecisively up and down the waterway, then pointed upstream.

“ This way,” he said, sounding more confident than he looked.

The gang set off again, more at ease with their environment as their fear of contamination waned (nobody grew a second head or sprouted fangs). The natural setting pervaded an influence and it wasn’t long before the older teens succumbed, lapsing into simple, boyish play.

Jacob watched in wry amusement as Riley skipped small pebbles harmlessly across the surface of the stream. The gang leader had inadvertently discovered this satisfying pastime after throwing a small pebble at a butterfly about to attack him. (The pebble had missed the aggressive insect and skipped across the stream instead.)

The forest also provided the perfect backdrop for many of Tyler’s martial art fantasies, and he annoyed everyone, leaping ninja-like onto them from the branches of trees. Mooch, meanwhile, had discovered his inner botanist, displaying a profound interest in the scattered flora of the landscape.

“Do you think it’s safe?” he asked worriedly, holding up a small, white flower for Jacob to inspect.

“Sure, looks okay to me,” nodded Jacob reassuringly, before adding a wise precaution, “Just don’t eat any of it.”

Mooch nodded back gravely; this was serious advice.

But after half an hour, the novelty had worn off, and complaints and misgivings were starting to come at Riley, thick and fast.

“Alright!” he snapped finally, halting the group. “Maybe we came the wrong way! We’ll just turn around and go back … what?”

Tyler was ducked down behind a thick bush, beckoning silently to them. The group hurried over to his position, carefully concealing themselves behind the foliage.

“I think I just saw something, up there, in the stream,” whispered Tyler.

“Maybe it’s the crate!” Riley whispered back excitedly.

Or maybe it’s a Corp Guard, thought Jacob, panic rising in his chest.

“We need to get a closer look,” said Riley.

Tyler nodded and resumed his way slowly through the thick underbrush. He stopped suddenly, pointing towards the stream, his eyes wide in surprise. Jacob peered anxiously through the bushes, craning his neck, wondering whether Tyler’s ambiguous expression meant success or some new danger. It turned out to be neither.

MEETING MAJDI

JACOB closed his eyes tightly and then opened them again, scarcely able to believe what he was seeing. Riley, Mooch and Tyler were also staring in silent, collective bewilderment.

A young boy was kneeling in the shallows of the stream, speaking softly to himself, oblivious to the cold water and mud staining his light-blue trousers and shirt. He appeared to be about seven years old, although his slight build and innocent face could have belonged to a younger child.

Shafts of sunlight illuminated the golden highlights in the boy’s light-brown curly hair as he leaned forward over the stream and scooped up a handful of the water. He raised his hands up high, watching in rapt fascination as the liquid trickled slowly through his fingers, falling like a gentle rain, back into the stream. He leaned forward again, scooped up another handful of water and repeated the entire process.

“... but you met so that Allah might accomplish a matter already ordained …”

Jacob watched the small boy’s movements curiously. He presumed that a child so young would simply be at play, but a closer observation would have revealed to him that the boy was studying the water. The small boy seemed unaware that four pairs of eyes were studying him from the cover of the bushes.

“How did he get here?” Mooch whispered incredulously.

“And what the heck is he doing?” asked Tyler in low suspicious tones.

“What a retard,” muttered Riley scornfully. Mooch and Tyler emitted a low chorus of muffled sniggers. Riley gestured at the small figure in the stream. “Come on, let’s go introduce ourselves.”

The gang emerged slowly from the bushes. They approached warily, peering about in case the boy had any friends or family nearby. He appeared to be completely alone. Riley’s shadow fell across the boy’s view, but he continued his play, barely registering Riley’s presence. The gang stared down in confusion at the small boy. This was not the reaction they had expected.

“Hey you! What are you doing here?” snarled Riley, shoving the boy in the shoulder with his foot.

The boy looked up and smiled calmly at the scowling face looming over him. He scooped up another handful of water, holding it carefully, as if it was the most precious thing in the world, and said softly to Riley, “Allah made every living thing from water.”

The four boys froze. It was Mooch who finally broke the uneasy silence.

“What did he say?” he asked hesitantly, lines of worry spoiling his cherubic features.

Jacob stared at the boy in shock. He knew those words – and where they came from.

“He said, Allah made every living thing from water,” he echoed in a low, hoarse whisper, and his fingers gave an involuntary twitch around the book in his pocket.