The Bubble Kids

By N. Chowdhry

With the inclusion of so many finely wrought details about daily life, the novel acts as a window into another part of the world, adding much-needed context to lives that could very well parallel those featured in blood-soaked headlines. The novel excels at highlighting everyday moments of resistance to terrorism, violence, and extremism, practiced one brave act at a time, that mainstream journalism ignores but that fiction persists in exposing. The Bubble Kids is a completely engrossing and refreshing read.
Clarion Reviews

Chowdhry does a very good job of conveying the kids complex sets of circumstances as she paints a vivid portrait of innocent Pakistani people facing the terror of a fringe, fundamentalist group. This is a perspective not often seen, and the author balances its elements well by using characters from diverse backgrounds. A well-balanced and often powerful story recommended for younger teens and history buffs.
Kirkus Reviews

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jul 6, 2015
• ISBN: 9781504936606

Book preview

© 2015 N.Chowdhry. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 07/06/2015

ISBN: 978-1-5049-3659-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-3660-6 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1 The End

Chapter 2 Sher’s Day Begins

Chapter 3 The Struggle Within

Chapter 4 The Stranger

Chapter 5 Warning Signs

Chapter 6 Leaving Home

Chapter 7 Reality Strikes

Chapter 8 The Bubble Bursts

Chapter 9 Omar’s Descent

Chapter 10 Saving Omar

Chapter 11 Turning the Tables

Chapter 12 The Beginning

This novel is

dedicated to my wonderful children - who make every day worth living to the fullest.

Chapter 1

The End

The sun was setting behind the men, casting a blood-red glow on the ground. Adam squinted as he tried to make out what the boy at the front was wearing over his clothes. To his horror he realized it was a suicide vest, made of coarse cloth with a leather belt holding dynamite sticks all around it.

The man next to the boy waved the gun in the air. Make up your mind! he roared across the space that served as a no-man’s-land between the police and them.

In the moments that followed, Adam’s eyes met the boy’s. The boy smiled at him as his hand rose to the cord at his waist, and he pulled on it very deliberately, even as his gun-toting companion leapt back to what he thought was a safe distance. The resulting explosion was deafening and flung Adam onto his back.

Ears ringing, Adam stared at the sky as he lay dazed on the ground, trying to comprehend how it had all begun…

Two Years Earlier

It was a hot September afternoon. School was over for the day, and after feasting on the delicious chops that Omar’s mom had made for lunch, Omar and Adam dragged themselves into the living room and sank onto the large beige sofa in front of the TV. Today, however, rather than the usual cartoon channel, it was the news channels that had caught their attention.

That’s the second plane to crash into the buildings! said Omar, his voice a mix of awe and horror.

Adam nodded, unable to look away from the TV even for a moment. He saw the plane swoop sideways, almost in slow motion, and then plunge into the building. Were the people in there able to get out in time? he wondered out loud.

Omar shrugged. There are a lot of stairs to climb down, and the elevators can’t be working anymore! You know how they shut them off during emergencies like earthquakes, he added imperiously.

Adam ignored the tiny wave of irritation that rose in him. Just because Omar’s father was the chief of police for the province, he thought, there was no reason for Omar to act so knowing. He turned back to the TV screen just in time to see the camera zoom in on people covered in ash, rushing through dust-filled streets and crumbling buildings as the towers behind them buckled.

OMG! The building’s going to fall! shouted Adam, with a twinge of fear and excitement in his voice. It seemed like an action movie playing out in real life. Look at those people in the streets—they are absolutely gray!

Sara, Omar’s younger sister, came in from the kitchen and curled up on a sofa chair, unconsciously sucking her thumb. Though she was six years old, she was the baby of the house and was often treated that way.

They look like ghosts! she commented. What happened to those buildings?

Some guys flew airplanes into the buildings and caused those explosions and fires, replied Adam distractedly as he sat forward on the sofa.

But why? Sara persisted.

They were Arabs or Muslims or something, but I’m not sure why they did it… Adam’s voice trailed off as he watched another video replay of one of the planes crashing into a building.

Omar looked up at him in surprise. Wait—the pilots were Arabs? That’s weird! I thought they would be some…you know, bad guys. He watched the twin towers crumbling like cake, sending showers of thick black dust into the blue sky.

Omar’s father stepped in the door. Adam tore his eyes away from the TV to see him hand his cap to a servant, who simultaneously proffered him a glass of water. Omar’s father looked tired, the gray in his sideburns even more prominent today. His eyes met Adam’s, and he smiled thinly. It’s not that simple, boys. Who knows what the real reason is? He collapsed onto the sofa next to Omar as they all continued to watch the live news, unable to tear themselves away.

As the afternoon turned into evening, Adam left for his own home a short walk away. Kicking a pebble down the road, he carefully avoided the cracks in the pavement, something he had done since he was a little boy. The setting sun cast a dappled, yellow-orange glow through the leaves of the trees. It was quiet save for the shouts of some children playing cricket down the street. Adam loved this time of day; he liked how time seemed to stand still, even though at other times it could get a bit boring. All thoughts of what he had seen on TV slipped to the back of his mind as he wondered what was for dinner.

Adam stopped outside to ring the bell at his gate, a low, green wooden structure that matched the color of the trees. It contrasted sharply with the whitewashed walls that had sharp pieces of colored glass cemented all along the top to discourage any thieves from climbing over. He could smell the chicken curry that Ammi* knew was his favorite. He rang the bell again impatiently. The gate swung inward, and there stood Gul, the cook, grumbling about how some people could never