Author's note: Please take a look! i wrote this for all audiences and i plan to add action sequences but it is... Show full author's note »
Prologue October 3rd 1942They couldn’t take him. They couldn’t. Tearing him away from his family would rip us all apart. I couldn’t just let them take him like it didn’t matter, he might not come back. I feared for him and all of the others who were taken. I knew that none would have been taken willingly, but Ian didn’t even put up a fight. He simply said his lugubrious goodbyes, not looking any of us in the eyes when he did it. Mother was grief stricken and father looked dismally at the wall of one of our neighbors’ houses. The air around us hung in thick, pensive clumps, the fear, anxiety, and distress almost tangible.
At that second I become very aware of three things. One, my brother was leaving and probably never coming back. Two, I was going to do something about it whether I wanted to or not. And three, as my fists pounded on the back of the retreating figure of one of the officers, and he turned around to face me, glaring me down, he took hold of me by the top of my head and, whispering something so fast I couldn’t catch it, he thrust his hand forward, causing my head to snap backward with so much force that I fell down, head first, with a sickening CRACK!