Tobias worked in a jewelry store on the edge of the Jewish sector in New York. His hands hovered over the glass display as he made the most expensive recommendation for his curious customer; he was paid on commission so he always said the most expensive was best. A van with unmarked tags crossed its way into the Jewish sector. The Holy Cross dangling from the rear-view mirror swerved as the driver turned and slowed the vehicle. The men in the car lowered the tinted windows to expose their covered faces. Three simultaneous clicks echoed through the car as they loaded their weapons. The van coasted as it approached Zimmermann's Jewelry. Bullets poured from the van and shattered the large glass window. That would be two window replacements for Zimmermann's in the past six months. A bullet struck a large Jewish woman in the head right after her check out; she had bought Tobias's recommendation. The other shoppers of the store pulled out their own guns to fire back; everyone had guns these days. It was a right of passage for boys in "all" sectors to have a gun by age thirteen. The defensive shoppers had no time to retaliate; the drivers were long gone by then. Total casualties, two dead, one injured. Amongst the dead was the brother of Tobias. Tobias stood over the body of his dead brother, a bullet wound to the chest, and one right below his curly hair line. He noticed that little dark spots began to appear on his brother's shirt, tears. Quickly he turned from his brother and wiped his face lest the others see his moment of weakness. Sadness of Tobias's face quickly subsided to unbridled rage, fiery anger, and vengeful wrath. Tobias let out a cry of pure anguish. And yet no one seemed to notice this man and his sorrows. The customers had already forgotten the terrible loss of life and continued to stare through the clear glass at the treasures of hell. Tobias mourned while the world around him kept moving. Sales continued as usual. This was the fifth shooting on the Jewish sector boarder this month. That day Tobias left work early with the beast of anger gripping his soul with such a vice grip that not even death itself would not loosen its hold.
Tobias walked with purpose through the filthy streets of New York. He had a mission now. The eagerness of his classmates to join the army of Jerusalem had always put him off to a group dedicated to death and destruction. Tobias was one of the few from his class not to join. In mid-stride he glanced down to his skinny arms and remembered why he had never really considered such a brutish occupation. He remembered how he used to mock his classmates who did what he was about to do, but more than anything his taunts were jealous ones. Now he had a desire to kill, to kill Christians, to kill Muslims, he wanted vengeance. Now was the time for a brotherhood to support his hatred. Now was a time to join. One thing was sure to Tobias; Blood was to be spilt by his hands.
Tobias walked through the commons of the Jewish sector. Above he saw the giant televisions. Bulletins flew across the screens at light speed, one always stayed the same; the commandments.
1. I spit upon the pagans, for I am a good Jew
2. I kill the heathens, so I can save Jews
3. I shall take my arms and do the prophets will
4. I will not steal from other Jews
5. I fornicate with no pagans for they are unclean
6. I do not council with heathens, for their word is poison
The commandments were everywhere, in every building, in every home. The Jews were not alone in their hatred. All the districts adopted similar credos; all districts warred with the others.
He received a call; the corners had picked up his brother, and the neighborhood was to hold a funeral. Tobias hailed a taxi, he entered the musty vehicle. "Where to?" coughed the old cabby. "The synagogue," Tobias replied in an indifferent tone. Half of him had died with his brother. The remaining half lived only to kill. On the back of drivers seat was television. Tobias has seen this infoganda before, but he was trying to clear his mind, he tuned in sheepishly.
"America! The final fortress, the shining city!" rang out a shining voice of the propagandist while a picture of a smiling United States danced and laughed at a destroyed Europe, and a barren Asia. This infoganda was designed for children. Tobias recalled memories of how he and his brother always laughed at the cute little cartoons that always blared through the television screen. The screen began to talk about how the Jews were "winning" the fight against the Christians. "How could they be?" Tobias asked himself, "my brother is dead and they tell me we are winning?" He punched the off button and the remainder of his journey was spent in silence. He arrived at his home. He swiped his card and exited the vehicle. The taxi sped off as he ascended the stairs and opened the door. The warm smell of his mother's candles did not greet him. She had already ventured to the crematorium. He tread over the cold floor and opened the closet in his room; to the far left stood his funeral coat, not a speck of dust lay on its shoulders.
Funerals were no longer a sacred remembrance of the departed, but a chore. Death was common, and thus funerals were often. They could be more accurately compared to waiting at a drive through. His brother's funeral was no different. Tobias no longer cared about his brother, now all the existed was revenge. The date of birth and death was stated. The automated voice machine said the same thing about every departed soul. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today. . ." droned the female robotic voice "to remember. . ." All of this took place at a fast foodesque establishment. Instead of placing an order they listened to the summery of his life and the automated responses. As the last person exited the line, the body was moved into the cremator. That was it.
After the faux funeral, the cars instead of returning home instead were instructed to meet at the local Synagogue. Tobias approached to entrance to the Synagogue, before he entered the building he was examined by the guards at the check point. A finger print scan was used to identify him as a member of the Synagogue. He was allowed to proceed. Others that were not members of the Synagogue were asked to leave. They didn't question the guards who were not always known for their kind dispositions.
Tobias entered the temple. The glint of the gold forced his eyes to adjust from the outdoor light. There was one giant screen like the ones in the square, and several smaller ones all around. On the walls of the temple were all assortments of holy propaganda. The Synagogue was no longer a place of faith. A large voice boomed as if coming from the heavens, and asked them to be seated. The Rabi was not a large man, but the influence he wielded made him the largest man in the community. The Rabi stood and spoke into the microphone. "Brothers of the faith" He paused for dramatic effect. "I call upon you all to avenge the death of one our own." He clicked a small button in his hand. On the screen was the image of his brother, bullet wounds clearly visible. "Like him and many others." He clicked again, images of previous victims circulated through the screen; some quite gruesome. "He was murdered in cold blood." More images appeared. "By the heathens!" The Rabi descended from the stage and switched off his mike. "The Holy book commands us to pay back the wrong doings of the heathens ten fold! I will not be one to have the Holy word ignored! I ask you brothers to be the tools of the all mighty God, I ask you brothers to search your hearts and do what is right. All who wish to join the raid party step forward now! Do not let God think you a coward!"
Tobias had never been in a raiding party. For the most part he had abstained, but now he had the will to murder. Tobias joined the crowd and coolly stepped forward. He glanced behind him; not a soul abstained. "Good!" Boomed the Rabi, "God moves in the hearts of all these men, now follow Brother Jacob." Tobias exited the temple, as he left; Jacob put a gun in his hand. Tobias put the gun in his pocket as he and the other men entered the vehicles. Tobias took a window seat and gazed at his own reflection in the dark, a face stared back with a cruel smirk stapled to it below the nose. The van rolled on down the street and passed over into the Christian district. The man in the passenger's seat looked back at the men in the back. He was the captain of the raiding party. He spoke with a thick accent, its origin unknown. "The Rabi has ordered us to attack the Church on 4th street. He said it is Gods will that we give no quarter." The van screeched to a halt and the doors were thrown open. The Christian guards scrambled for their weapons but were over taken. Tobias had been the first to shoot. The doors of the Church were thrust open as the Jews in their ski masks and black bandanas, with prints of the Star of David, Stormed the building. Tobias stood with gun in his hand, smiling as he picked off two men. A woman stood like a deer in the headlights. If it was twenty years ago, no one would dare shoot a woman in cold blood, but that was twenty years ago. Tobias hesitated, but Tobias unleashed three rounds into the woman's chest. Blood spattered as she fell to the floor, whetting his appetite for more. Tobias wore a sick grin. He though of the men that shot his brother, he was not satisfied. "More! MOOORREEE!" he bellowed like a mad man. Three lay dead by his hand already, but he knew he had to have more; his brother demanded it. A man crouching behind a pew tried to make a quick exit. Tobias drew a bead on him and he fell towards the Hell that he believed his killers were destined; his blood staining the ground. The man's face however remained fixed on the heaven above the he surely must be destined for. The Church members in the lower levels had heard the firefight and quickly procured weapons from the Church's armory. Armed defenders emerged from the stairs. Automatic weapons fire was exchanged between the zealots. The room was filled heavy with smoke. Tobias moved his shirt to avoid the smoke. Tobias peered over the pew and mowed another defender down. Tobias pulled the trigger again and heard an empty click. ("Damn it!" raged Tobias as he scrambled for another clip.)
While Jacob's group assaulted the Church head on, another group had been secretly planting explosives at the Churches base. Jacob called from an adjacent row of pews. "Fall back brothers, we are done here." Tobias followed his comrades, but as he exited the door he felt a great weight hit his back. He fell, and rolled down the stairs of the Church. His fellow Jews passed over him as they retreated to the pick up zone. Tobias stood bleeding out with a scorching piece of metal in his back. He managed to crawl a couple of yards. Each one a milestone, he attempted to call out to his comrades, but they were gone. As the vans departed, chunks of brick flew through the air as the base collapsed and the mighty temple fell; another successful attack in the name of God. Tobias could smell the burning Church as the smoke filled his lungs. He tried to muster a crawl, but nothing. He blacked out in the street. He lay on the devil's doorstep.
Tobias awoke to see a great bearded face. He could tell he was a Muslim by the turban we wore. The Muslim man said nothing as he dressed Tobias' wounds. His first thought was, "Don't touch me you infidel!" Yet all strength had left him as he tired to sit up he was forced to lay still. Tobias stared at the man and wondered why he would help him. Tobias had been raised to hate Muslims. Muslims had been raised to hate Jews. None of this made sense. One last shred of humanity still existed in this world of the damned. The Muslim man finished dressing his wounds and slipped into the shadow of the alleyway. Tobias attempted to thank him, but he was gone. Tobias wasn't about to chase him; he could hardly walk. Tobias stumbled across the street and made it to the Jewish district. A small group of people gathered at the border, awaiting his arrival, but something was out of place. In his mind a small parade had come to welcome his return. Tobias felt a sense of victory. He had cheated death; surely they would sing his praises through the street. Jacob stood at the head of the crowd, "I saw what happened in the alleyway. Saved by a Muslim, you really are a worthless piece of shit." The alleyway was in plane site of the Jewish District, the border had many cameras. It must have been Jacob's shift. The victory on Tobias' face turned to grief. The crowd raised their rifled and drew a bead on Tobias. "An act of kindness on the part of a Muslim can not be known by the community. This is where your journey ends." The crowd cocked their weapons. Tobias stared down the barrel of a loaded rifle. He accepted his fate. He stood on the border of the Muslim District. He turned from his home, his family, his life, and his brothers and began to walk. Yet it was not a man that walked, for half lay with his brother. Yet it was not half a man that walked away ether, something less, a fourth. His friends, family, and comrades had stolen another fourth. Now all that existed was a mere shred of a man who was to wallow in shame, having been rejected by his own blood kin.
As days became weeks, and weeks became months, Tobias did his best to adapt to the new culture and environment that he came to live in. He was squatting in an old abandoned apartment building by the docks, and he got a steady job as a beggar. Alcoholism and depression ailed him, and the thought of suicide came to him weekly. One afternoon as he was walking down to the market, he passed a mosque, and in front of it was the all too familiar unmarked van. Tobias pulled the pistol from his pants, the pistol that was given to him by Jacob ages ago. This was his time to redeem himself. God was giving him a chance. Aid the Jews in the attack, and they were bound to let him back in. As the Jews attacked, so did Tobias. Tobias burst threw the side door of the mosque. The room was empty, he heard the noise of combat above him, and he raced up the stairs, colliding with an old Muslim man. They fell down the length of the stairs, crashing onto the landing. Tobias, being younger and more agile, leapt up, pointing the gun at the Muslim man. The man turned around, wincing in pain from the fall. "My son, I have no weapon, and no hate." Tobias looked deep into the man's eyes, remembering the face and the voice of the man who saved his life in the alley way. Just as Tobias began to lower his weapon, the Jews raced down the stairs, halting at the bottom steps, looking at the scene. Tobias hastily pulled the gun back up, and with a tear rolling from his face, he pulled the trigger. The Jews ran down the stairs and into the basement, laughing at the weak Tobias. More gun fire came from down the stairs. He dropped the pistol and walked outside. He sat on the sidewalk in front of the mosque and wept. He cried for his brother, the Jews, the Christians, the Muslims. He cried for the death of humanity, and the death of God. He saw the Jews enter the van; a wounded comrade was in a stretcher. As he stood to run and join them, he was struck from behind from that all too familiar piece of burning metal. The van sped away as Tobias turned around, and looked into the eyes of a teenager, not older then the age of sixteen. He was crying, and holding Tobias's pistol. The son of the old Muslim man pulled the trigger. The smoke rose from Tobias's lifeless body, it traveled in front of the square screen. It flashed a news report. "Scientists report an unidentified object entering earth's atmosphere. It is expected to make landfall off the coast of New York City; citizens on the coast are asked to take caution."