The Traversing Book I

Chapter 10

"whosoever kills an innocent human being, it shall be as if he has killed all mankind, and whosoever saves the life of one, it shall be as if he had saved the life of all mankind..."

Quran 5:32
_____________

Amir grabs the stool in the vestibule and sits down. He just kissed Kokia, and it was all that he hoped for. Everything that had been taught to him, everything that his stepmother has said to him, terrible things about the Americans, about how not to trust them. How he couldn't marry a non-Muslim, as they will make the family impure. At the time, he really didn't care. Romance and love was not something that existed between partners, not that he has seen. He doesn't remember one time that he saw his father kiss his mother for no reason. Just to say, "I love you." So how is it that he has all these emotions inside? He believes that Allah has sent a warrior to him. Someone that will help make the peace and not divide us any longer.

It has been only two days, and his body aches when he is not near her. When he can't touch her, when he can't see her. All of a sudden his TerraView lights up and beeps, letting him know that his shift is over, so he heads out to one of the open trailers. It is his turn to sleep and before he climbs in he turns and asks what is going on, what is the progress.

"We are moving fast, through the streets. We are firing poison gas bombs into neighborhoods, have deployed spy Skins, and we have our TerraViews that were installed with heat seeking thermal, so there is no where they can hide!" a soldier that Amir didn't recognized laughed, then slapped Amir's back. Amir immediately stiffened, and did a forced smile to him.

Amir finished climbing in the trailer and he quickly lay down. Immediately a swirl of thoughts entered his head and he thought about what needed to be done. He needed to grab Kokia and escape together. But how? They needed to hide and somehow avoid thermals.

He finally drifted off to sleep and it wasn't a peaceful, easy sleep. In his dream he was standing in the field by Kokia's high school on top of all those bodies. He looked down and saw dozens of children laying sporadically on the ground, some facing up, some face down in the tore up dirt. Others just legs broken or arms torn off, and they are crying and trying to drag themselves to safety. Amir bends down and takes his belt off of his pants and wraps it around a girl's leg that was spurting blood. Her leg was gone from the knee down. He tied the leg off as tight as he could go, and the bleeding slowed tremendously. She needed immediate care, but there were no ambulances, no emergency personnel. Maybe what he did just prolonged her suffering. But this was not part of him, this was not part of his plan. He stands up and starts crying into his hands. Suddenly, he felt a jolt and he realized that he had been dreaming. The violence he just witnessed in his head seemed so real. Too real. When he started to wake up more, he realized in horror that he was moving. The trailer was moving.

Amir gets out of the bed and goes to the front of the trailer. He knocks on the window to the cab of the vehicle.

"Where are we going?" he yells out loud in Arabic

"We need to be further out," was the only answer he got.

"What about the girls?"

"Done for. We are done. The food is almost gone, we need to move to the next city."

"What will happen to them?"

"We are bombing it," he says laughing and slapping the steering wheel, very proud of himself.

Amir turned around, stunned. Oh my God, he needed to get to Kokia fast. Where were they going? He looked out the window near his bed. They trailer was going very fast down the road. Amir again approached the window and opened it again.

"I have something I need there. Can you go back? It'll be real quick, I promise," he spits out to the driver.

"No. No, we can't. I have to follow orders. Why, what did you forget?"

What did he forget. How could he possibly tell him?

So Amir relented and lay back down in his bed. The truck rolled and rolled, veering right, then going left. He had no idea where they were driving to, it seemed like forever before the truck stopped.

Amir got up and stretched his legs and put on his gun detail. He was nervous about what he would find when he departed the truck. When he eventually stepped out of the trailer, he saw that there were even more Islamic battalions and soldiers there than at the last place; he couldn't believe it. This was just impossible. He needed a good plan to go back for her. He was going back for her. No question about that. He had to go back for her.

Amir was approached and told to go to a large tent for a meeting. They would be moving on to this city, which was Stamford. Just like Amir and his battalion had done, these soldiers had captured teenage girls to help with the cooking. His job was to again be a guard at the door, as the group that was there were being moved to border security. It was a very well oiled machine, but Amir did see cracks. There was no way that they could have shot or captured all of the citizens in every city, in every state. Just would be impossible unless they dropped bombs from the sky. So he was worried that there would be a counter-terrorism group somehow banding together, or that the Americans would just blow up everything, finding it necessary. No, he thought, no, the Americans wouldn't do that; they wouldn't be that transparent. He remembers being told by his father that the ITAQ had been planning this for over 20 years, and now it was here. Jihad.

Amir heads out to his post toward the large auditorium, but this one seems smaller than the one in Bridgeport. It says Center for the Arts which he finds disheartening. He takes a deep breath and sits on the stool he dragged out of the van. He knew he could not stay here. He needed to go back. What excuse could he use? He sat there and stared out the window and then back into the room with the new batch of girls and the small concession area they would cook from. He felt like he was in a movie, and that this couldn't possibly be happening.

His heart hurt so bad, and he was surprised at how connected he felt to Kokia. A girl who was a stranger less than a week ago. Someone who had felt the same way, despite that he was a Muslim, despite what his fellow men did and what she saw. She felt the electricity between them, and she trusted him.

Amir went over to the coordinator in charge tonight whose name was Rashaad, and Amir told him he needed to borrow a truck to get something he left back at the other station. Rashaad wasn't impressed. He looked at him up and down and Amir felt very frightened. He wondered if he could sense his disloyalty, his disdain for what Al Qaeda was doing in the name of a wonderful God. Rashaad stared at him, squeezed his eyes together and said in Arabic, "why, brother?"

"My bag was left near the vestibule. I was not told beforehand that we were heading out or I would have made sure I had it. But no one told me," Amir said back to him, his voice cracking just a bit. He knew his lie would catch up with him, but he couldn't think about that now.

"I have family heirlooms in it...pictures..." Amir said, his voice trailing off softly.

Rashaad looked at him for a few seconds and said nothing, then raised his rifle. He proceeded to point the muzzle at Amir's chest and said softly, "It is probably burnt. Go. But hurry right back," he spewed to Amir, clearly annoyed.

Amir swallowed hard, and said, "I will brother, I will."

Rashaad smiled and lowered his gun. He knew he should have called Amir's father, but he just didn't have time for that. He yelled at someone in the field to take Amir's place and Amir walked over to a small jeep that had U.S. Army written on it. He didn't know which way to go, but he saw the GPS mounted on the dashboard, so he programmed it to the Bridgeport Arena. It wasn't that far. He thought they had traveled much further away.
One of the other guards waved him on and yelled to him, laughing, "you know we already bombed the place, right?"

Amir's eyes were stinging with tears as he droveaway fast and swung over to Interstate 95. The road was vacant; a very eeriefeeling. He sat there clutching the wheel, slamming his hands over and overagain on it and cursing under his breath. He looked over on the passenger seatof the jeep and see a transponder embedded in it on the back. It was a faintorange and knew it was one of theirs. There was always checks and balances,escaping would be hard. He would drive the jeep to the Arena and hopefully findKokia there waiting for him, and he would bring her someplace safe withoutgetting caught or without Americans shooting him just because he is who he is.Which right now is a person; a man with flesh and bones. A man that wantspeace. Just peace to live a long life with a beautiful woman and children tocome home to every day.

Amir looked around nervously, he could hear the whir of the Skins in thedistance. He felt his arm out of instinct to make sure that his magnet wasstill lodged in near his wrist, and sighed when he felt the familiar bump. Thatwas the only protection from the Skins he had. He sped out quickly, going fastdown the barren road and his thoughts quickly turned to his first kiss withKokia. She was unlike anyone he has ever met. He said a silent prayer that she survived. That she is not hurt. Andthat she still wants him.