On unsteady legs, John walked over to Mansur, who sat in the dirt, holding Karam’s body in his arms. He looked up as John approached and shook his head. Tears ran down from his eyes, and with one hand, he reached up and gently closed the boy’s eyes. For the first time in many years, the child was finally at peace. The sight rekindled John’s anger, and he turned around and walked around the wrecked Mitsubishi and across the road to Steve. Lying at his feet in the dirt, his face screwed up in pain, Abu Mujahid’s breathing was rapid and shallow, low moans escaping from his mouth.
“I shot the bastard in the knee.”
John looked down at Abu Mujahid’s leg. Where his knee should have been, was a bloody mass, the lower part of the leg sticking out at a strange angle.
“Good.”
“It seemed the least I could do.”
John stepped closer, and with the toe of his boot, gave the damaged knee a nudge.
Abu Mujahid screamed in pain.
John did it again, a little harder
He screamed again, then seemed to pass out, his face white, his forehead a sheen of sweat.
Steve raised an eyebrow at John. “Are you okay, mate?”
John nodded. “Take his weapons, and let’s go.”
“What do we do about him?”
“Leave the fucker.”
John turned, then hesitated.
“On second thought.” He reached behind him and removed the Glock from his waistband before crouching down beside Abu Mujahid. With his left hand, he slapped him in the face.
“Hey.” He slapped him again, and Abu Mujahid stirred, blinking his eyes open. He looked lost for a moment, then his eyes widened in recognition. John nodded. “I wanted you to be awake for this.” He stuck the barrel of the Glock into Abu Mujahid’s groin. Abu Mujahid’s eyes widened, his chin trembling, and he tried to wriggle out of the way. John kept the barrel pressed into his groin.
“Allahu Akbar,” he said and pulled the trigger.
84
John reversed his grip on the Glock, stood up, and handed it to Steve, who was watching him with a frown.
“Let’s go.”
He turned and walked back to Mansur. He had laid the boy’s body on the ground and was kneeling beside him, his hands raised in prayer, his eyes closed, and his lips moving silently. John knelt beside him and placed a hand on the boy’s arm.
“Oh, fuck,” Steve muttered as he walked over and stood beside them. They waited until Mansur had finished and opened his eyes. He looked at the two of them, but said nothing, his eyes still moist.
“He was a brave little bugger,” Steve said, and Mansur nodded.
John placed a comforting hand on Mansur’s arm.
“We have to go, my friend.”
“I know.”
John stood and scuffed at the ground with his toe.
“The ground is hard as rock. We can’t bury him.” He sighed, his hands on his hips, and turned to look at the vehicles. “And we can’t take him with us. What do we do?”
“Bring some rocks.” Mansur stood. “We’ll cover him with them.”
John and Steve gathered rocks and stones from the side of the road while Mansur gently laid Karam out straight in the shallow ditch. He arranged his arms, so his hands were crossed on his chest, then the three of them covered him with the rocks. Finished, they stood and looked down at the pile of stones that were now the only thing that remained of the lion-hearted boy.
“Wait,” John said. He walked over to the pickup and retrieved his discarded AK. Walking back, he wedged it barrel first into the pile of stones. Stepping back, he said, “If there is such a thing as heaven, little warrior, I hope you find it.”
“Amen.” Steve placed a hand on John’s shoulder. “Let’s go, mate.”
“Yeah,” John sighed and looked at Mansur. “Where are the women?”
“I left them about a kilometer up the road.”
“Let’s go get them.” He slapped Mansur on the back. “I’m glad you came back, my friend. You saved my life. Shukraan jazilan.”
“Afwan, habibi. Don’t mention it. You would have done the same for me.”
They heard a voice calling from the cab of the Mitsubishi, and the three of them exchanged puzzled glances. Walking over, they peered in through the window and saw Naeem trapped in the crumpled footwell, wedged between the dashboard and the seats.
“Naeem, there you are.” Steve turned to John and muttered, “I wondered where the little shit had gone.”
“I can’t move.”
John looked closer and saw the edge of the accelerator pedal wedged into Naeem’s thigh.
“Steve, give me a hand.”
“Do I have to?” Steve muttered but came forward to help John wrench the buckled door open.
John reached down, grabbed Naeem by the shoulders, and tried to pull him free. Naeem groaned in pain but didn’t move.
“Steve, go around the other side and see if you can move him from that side.”
Steve walked around the back of the pickup, grumbling to himself, and pulled the door open on the other side. He looked down at Naeem’s legs and winced.
“He’s wedged in pretty tight, mate. It’s not going to be easy.”
John frowned and straightened. He looked up at the sky. They needed to get out of there. Judging by the sun, it was already after midday,
