Chapter 1: Attack, Part 1

VOLUME ONE

Editor's Forward:

for Thou Shalt Not Kill by Theresa Oliver

It is refreshing to see a story about the young people of the world taking a stand against an invasion of their country. Theresa Oliver breaks our hearts and repairs them all in one novel. Her words are thought provoking and emotional, and made me take a second to imagine if our country is actually prepared for the type of battle that takes place within the pages of this book. I don't know if we are, but Ms. Oliver's book gives me new hope that we have a hidden force behind us, watching our backs when we need it. We shouldn't take our young for granted, because they are the next generation. They are fighters, dreamers, soldiers. Do not pick up Thou Shalt Not Kill and think it is just about religion or murder; it is so, so much more. It is a war.

~Genevieve Scholl

Editor

THOU SHALT NOT KILL: VOLUME 1

"Bye, Mom!" I yelled, passing the kitchen where she was feeding my four-year-old little brother, Timmy. His blond hair was in his wide blue eyes as he sat at the kitchen table with a bowl of Cheerios before him, waiting for Mom to pour the milk. Watching the scene, I smiled to myself as I walked by. I slung my purple backpack over my shoulder, brushing my long blonde hair aside, cringing slightly from the weight. Then, I hurried into the living room toward the front door.

"Bye, Casey girl!" Mom yelled back, peeking around the corner. "Have a good day!"

I'll never forget Mom's cheerful voice or her warm smile that always brightened up the room or how her eyes danced when she looked at me. She gave me one last smile as she disappeared around the corner. Mom was always so happy.

How was I to know it would be the last time I would see her? If I had known, I would have said something serious like, "Mom, I love you," or "Mom, I'll never forget you." I would've wrapped my arms around her and Timmy, and dragged them to safety.

Instead, I hollered back, "You, too, Mom!" Anticlimactic, but how was I to know that these would be the last words I would say to her?

Suddenly, the bus driver laid on the horn in front of my house like he did every morning. Impatient, isn't he? I thought to myself. I flung open the front door of the house, slamming it behind me, and ran to the bus. I knew that if I didn't get there quick enough, he would leave me behind. Joel, the bus driver, didn't play around.

"Hurry up, Nichols. I can't wait all day!" Joel yelled as he opened the accordion glass door. "I have other people to pick up! Let's go!"

He always called me by my last name, Nichols. Sometimes I wished he would call me Casey like everyone else. But, no, he called everyone by their last name, like a football jock or something. That was it. He must have played football when he was in high school and never gotten over it. Funny. He still had a bit of the football, sport-type build and spirit, but his bulging pot belly must have been an addition of recent years. I guessed he hadn't picked up a football in years.

"Let's go! I don't have all day." The bus groaned as Joel revved the motor.

"Coming!" I called as I took the last strides across the lawn and jumped into the bus. He didn't even wait until I was in my seat before he pulled away from the curb. "Impatient today, huh, Joel?" I asked, smiling. Safe on the bus, I could afford the sarcasm.

"Keep it up and I'll leave you tomorrow."

I smiled and took my usual seat by the window, watching the houses and greenery pass as we drove to the next stop. I would never admit it, but I loved riding the bus to school. Actually, I loved the scenery more than the bus ride itself. I loved watching the old people walking in their bathrobes to the front porch for their morning paper, or people taking their garbage cans to the curb at the last minute. I loved watching the other kids walking to school in the crisp morning air, and the scent of fresh cut lawns in the morning. It was the end of summer—autumn, my favorite season. In autumn, the leaves begin to change into burnished hues of red and orange, along with yellow and green. The summers of southern Indiana are hot; there's no mistaking it. But when autumn finally arrives, the crispness of the air rejuvenates the students. It's a time of ending, and a time for beginnings …

"Hey, Case." Brandon, my best friend, brought me back to reality. We used to play Hide and Seek, and Cops and Robbers in the trees while we were growing up.

"Hey," I answered back. I hadn't noticed the bus had stopped to pick him up.

"So, what's up?" Brandon asked as he slid onto the bench seat beside me. Suddenly, a strong gust of Axe cologne wafted toward me.

"Whew! You stink!" I replied, holding my nose jokingly as I waved my other hand in front of my face. "What'd you do? Take a bath in the stuff?"

"It's my Axe body spray. You like it?" Brandon asked proudly, smiling, never taking me seriously. Since we were just beginning our junior year of high school, Brandon thought he would try to be more sophisticated. I guessed he thought that slathering on large amounts of heavy cologne was the way to do it.

"Tone it down a bit. What'd you use? Half a bottle or something?" I moved closer to the window. He thought I was joking, but the scent was overwhelming. Other kids across the aisle gave him a dirty look and moved away. He didn't see.

"Ah, you're just jealous of my animal magnetism! I knew you'd finally notice me one day!" Brandon's smile was contagious. He was slight in build, with dark curly hair that fell close to his deep blue eyes. If I hadn't known him for so long, I would have thought that he was kind of cute.

"It's hard not to notice you, smelling like that. In fact, I think you have everyone's attention." I looked across the aisle at the girls now laughing at him, and gave them a dirty look. They quickly wiped the smiles from their faces and looked away, talking animatedly to each other.

Brandon was like my brother. I'd known him for what seemed like forever. Although I had the feeling that Brandon would have liked it to be different, I could never think of him as anything more than just a friend. He was my best friend and I could talk to him about things that I could never tell any other person. In fact, we knew more about each other than anyone else ever did. He told me his deepest, darkest secrets, as well. And he was just fun to be around.

"Come on! You're in love with me! Admit it!" Brandon joked, trying to slide his arm around me.

"Drop dead," I said, smiling, as I pulled his arm away from my shoulder, then punched him in the gut.

Brandon grabbed his stomach jokingly as if he was hurt, then rubbed it. I knew better. He was tougher than he let on. "Naw, you'd miss me too much!"

"It'd be a sweet miss," I said with a sigh, shaking my head. I looked into his blue eyes that always seemed to be laughing, like there was a joke hidden behind them, then jokingly punched him again. "Why do I put up with you?"

Brandon laughed aloud, a robust and hearty laugh. He loved giving me a hard time, and he was clearly enjoying this. "Because you love me. Admit it," he replied without missing a beat then tickled my sides. "Go ahead, admit it."

I laughed and squirmed to get away from him as a blush brushed my cheeks. I was about to say something sarcastic back to him and punch him again when Joel yelled, "Quiet down, back there! I don't want to have to pull this bus over, but I will if I have to!"

Joel always threatened to throw us off the bus. We knew better, but no one wanted to be brave enough to find out.