Thaqib and Halima made their way along the harbour, now on the same path Thaqib had taken to work that morning. So much had happened since then, all he cared about now was getting back to Rast and telling him all that had happened. Along the way they hadn’t said much. Halima seemed distressed about the fight.

Thaqib noticed Halima looked troubled. “You alright?” he asked. “I mean—despite everything…” he said trailing off, realizing the absurdity of the question.

“You live here?” Halima replied, surprising him.

“Yeah, not far, under that bridge up ahead,” he said pointing to the dark silhouetted arch.

“Those boys back there were you friends?” Halima asked.

“Well—they used to be, I guess. It’s complicated.”

“There’s so much hostility here. So much darkness. It must have been hard being born here. They said you were an orphan?”

Thaqib though about it, “Yeah—well, to be honest I’m not really sure where I was born.” Halima looked at him, a confused expression upon her face. “It sounds crazy, but Rast found me when I was small kid and raised me here.”

“Found you?” Halima replied.

“Yeah—actually, it’s weird. He found me the same way I found you. In the trash haul.” Halima stopped, seeming to find this detail alarming. “I was floating in some kind of container he said. I know it sounds crazy, but in those days it wasn’t that weird. A lot of people were trying to leave Babylon City back then. Things were real bad. Worse than now if you can believe it. A lot of people didn’t make it. The storms on the open sea are wild. Rast said it was a miracle I survived.”

“You don’t know who your parents are?” Halima asked, her eyes wide in astonishment.

Thaqib looked at the ground. “No. Rast is my only parent. He’s looked after me ever since. I don’t know where I came from or who my real parents are.” Halima looked sad. “It’s all good though, you can’t miss what you don’t remember. Besides, I’m lucky—Rast is the best parent I ever could have asked for. Some kids around here aren’t that fortunate, even if they still got their real parents.”

“I’m sorry,” Halima said, looking to him, “that you had to grow up here.”

“Not like there’s anywhere else!” Thaqib said trying to cheer her up with a smile. He didn’t understand why the story seemed to hit her so hard, he’d heard far worse. “Come on, let’s get home. I can’t wait for you to meet Rast.”

Finally, Thaqib saw the familiar sight of the bridge rising over his neighborhood. It was as though nothing had changed, the traffic still crawled overhead, stuck in an eternal loop, the lights still twinkled from the shacks lining the harbour. They ducked into a small alley that Thaqib used as a short cut and made their way into the street.

“You live here, under this bridge?” Halima asked.

“Yeah, this is my neighborhood,” he replied, leading her toward his shack. As he emerged from the alley, feeling the anticipation of the warm inviting glow of his home, Thaqib stopped dead in his tracks. Flashing red and blue lights swept across the street, flickering against his shack. He quickly grabbed Halima by the arm and pulled her into the shadow of a cement pillar.

“What’s going on?” Halima asked.

“Damn it. They must have known something was up. That guy—Abbas, back on the boat—he must have realized I was acting weird.”

“But how did they find where you live?”

“Everyone’s registered in their system,” he said, showing her a mark on his neck. “He must have looked me up when he saw we were gone. Damn, old Rast is in there! I’ve gotta see if he’s OK.” He looked around for way to get to the shack without being spotted. A police cruiser lay waiting in the middle of the street and he saw officers walking around the shack. He turned to Halima. “You wait here, I’m gonna see what’s up—see if I can find Rast.”

“OK,” Halima replied.

As he was about to leave, a voice spoke from the shadows nearby.

“I don’t think that would be wise.”

Thaqib leapt back in shock, instinctively protecting Halima. A man wearing beige and purple robes, face wrapped tight stepped out of the shadows. Thaqib recognized him. It was the guy who’d saved him from the Boomer.

The man removed the scarf concealing his face, it was long and intense. He sported a white beard, not the white of the elderly, but blond, and coiled dreads to match.

“It’s you! From last night—” Thaqib said, backing away, trying to get Halima to do the same.

“My name’s Judah, I’ve been sent to find you,” the man replied in a deep voice.

“Find me? By who?” Thaqib asked in disbelief.

“By Rast of course. When the police showed up, he escaped, he asked me to keep a lookout for you so you don’t get caught up in anymore trouble,” Judah said.

“How do you know what trouble we’re in?” Thaqib asked suspiciously.

“We’re monitoring the police communications. Thankfully I was able to alert Rast before they showed up here,” Judah replied.

“You know Rast? Who are you?” Thaqib asked.

“I’m an old friend of his, from the days when Rast was a part of the Order of Zion,” Judah replied.

“Zion?” Halima said, her eyes widening. She removed her hood, “I’m glad to finally meet you.”

Upon seeing her face, Judah seemed like he’d seen a ghost. His face went pale and his eyes widened in alarm. He dropped down to one knee.

“Huh? What’s this?” Thaqib asked, stepping back in confusion.

“You’re the one that came through the Veil aren’t you?” Judah said. “But how did you come to meet each other?” Judah rubbed his beard, “This is a strange circumstance,” he said rising up again.

Thaqib looked to Halima suddenly, for the first time considering seriously that she really was from the Veil. “You mean—” he said, looking to her, “you were for real? You came from the Veil!?”

Halima looked to him as though confused. “Yes, didn’t I tell you already?”

“Yeah but—” Thaqib couldn’t find the words.

“Is it really so hard to believe?” Judah said. “Look at what she’s wearing, does she look like she’s from around here?” Judah asked.

“I found her in a trash haul! How do I know where she came from?” Thaqib asked.

Judah seemed stunned, “Trash haul? There is a lot that must be discussed, but first we must get somewhere safe. Come, we must leave this place,” Judah said beckoning.

“But Rast—” Thaqib said looking back to the shack.

“I told you he’s safe. I’ll take you to him,” Judah replied.

“I don’t even know you!” Thaqib said, turning back to the shack, concern for Rast’s wellbeing overwhelming him. Suddenly he bolted, running through the shadows, keeping low, toward his home. Behind him he heard Halima and Judah call his name, but he wasn’t interested, he had to see for himself, how could he trust the words of some stranger that had popped out of the shadows?