I stagger to my feet, joining Fatima. I nearly topple over right away, still desperately regaining my breath and the feeling in my legs. I hear Salman behind us. There’s another gunshot. Don’t look back now, Zaid. Keeping my focus on Amaan, my hand curls into a tight fist.
With a roar, Amaan rushes at us. He wildly slashes down with his knife. Fatima and I step in opposite directions and he passes between us, harmlessly cutting the air. He doesn’t miss a step. Twirling around, he comes at me. His eyes are blood red. I leap back. His knife again misses, but I feel the wave of air it sends at me.
I keep my hands out in front of me. One wrong move, one misstep, and it’s over. Keep focused, Zaid. Letting out a roar, he lunges at me again and attacks with the blade. I sidestep to the left. An intense pain suddenly engulfs my hand. I instinctively let out a shrieking yelp as he passes me. A burning sensation consumes my right palm. Now it’s wet. Is that blood? It is. The red liquid is leaking out of a long cut on my hand. It feels cold.
I leap back, barely dodging his knife. It misses me by mere inches. I feel it run right by my stomach, cutting a few threads of my shirt. Ignore the blood. Keep him distracted, Zaid. But don’t get too close. You can’t beat him with that knife. I keep moving backward. He comes at me again. I sidestep the brutish hack. He doesn’t relent, almost immediately taking another swing. His knife slices nothing but air.
There’s a loud cry from behind us. Amaan whips around just in time to see Fatima charging at him with her brick in hand. She sends it right for his head. But he’s too quick. He dodges her, and she stumbles right by him. As she does, he viciously shoves her in the back with his free hand. She crashes face-first right at his feet, kicking up dirt.
Without hesitating, he swiftly kicks her side. Fatima yelps as she is rolled over. He kicks her again, harder this time—in the stomach. She groans in pain as her body buckles down.
He raises his knife.
No! I don’t think—can’t think. My bloody hand grabs the brick lying by me. His back is to me. I leap at him. There’s no mercy in my eyes. He brings the dagger down on her. My brick slams against the back of his skull. It vociferously cracks. Amaan’s head jolts before he collapses straight down.
Standing over the fallen boy, I don’t have time to help Fatima up. There’s a roar behind us. I whip around and see Salman. He’s… limping. There’s a dark stain on his jeans, right above his knee, as he rises back to his feet. His fists are clenched. A few feet away, Faisal is rising back up as well. Blood is running down the side of his skull. His eyes look just like Amaan’s.
Where’s the gun? I see it. It’s right between the two of them.
There’s a moment of peace as they both stare each other down. It’s like a standoff. Faisal’s eyes drift down from Salman and onto the pistol. But Salman’s gaze doesn’t waver from his foe.
The tranquility ends. I suddenly charge at Faisal, brick still in my bloodied hand. Faisal goes for the gun. Salman goes for him. It all happens so fast. Tackling him with a loud collision, Salman drives Faisal several feet back before slamming him onto the ground. Faisal lets out a groan as his back hits the jagged ground.
Salman raises his fist, keeping Faisal pinned beneath him. He doesn’t hesitate. His fist smashes Faisal’s face.
“Salman!”
Whipping his head, Salman sees me toss the brick his way. He catches it with both hands before turning back to his stunned opponent. He raises the brick high above his head. Salman lets out a roar, one louder than any I’ve ever heard.
I turn away as he brings it down.
Crack!
The thunderous collision erupts for a split second before dying away. When I turn back, I don’t look down at Faisal. Instead, I see Salman slowly staggering up to his feet. I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s wincing with pain, barely able to stand on his injured leg.
I grab him underneath his shoulder just in time to keep him from collapsing. Holding him upright, I turn my head and see Fatima dashing towards us. She’s wearing all three of our sacks.
Reaching out, I take two of the bags from her before slinging them over the same shoulder. I don’t feel their heaviness right now. My heart is still pounding like a drum. I can’t even think straight.
Fatima gets on the other side of her brother, helping keep him upright. I feel him shift some of his weight over to her.
“We need to go,” Salman speaks through a clenched jaw. “It’ll be light soon. We need to make it at least three blocks.”
“But your leg—” Fatima starts
“Forget about it.”
Without another word, we leave.
Chapter 16
Always By Your Side
Salman grows paler with every fleeting moment. I’ve never seen him like this before. Only one block down the road and he can barely move. Fatima and I are nearly dragging him along with us. We can’t afford to slow down. The longer we take, the more chances of us being spotted.
My mind is racing, still half-trapped in the battle. I still see Amaan’s eyes, still smell his breath as he tried to strangle me. Can’t think about that now, Zaid. With every passing second, my breaths become quicker and my grip around Salman tightens. Keep moving. Don’t stop. Don’t slow down.
I hear something. It’s not far away. There’s a vehicle coming down the road. It sounds like the jeep from last night. The sputtering engine is growing louder. Any moment, it’ll turn the corner and come into view.
“…inside… get… ins…” Salman’s words are not even a whisper.
Dragging him a few more steps, we arrive at the entrance of a building. Thank God the door is already open. Fatima and I don’t say anything as we disappear into it.
It’s an electronics store. At least it used to be. Just like the butcher shop, it’s been completely ransacked and is hardly recognizable now.
We need to set Salman down somewhere. There’s a counter. But it’s too out in the open. Anybody passing by will see us. Come on, Zaid. Think
Stepping over a fallen rack, I lift Salman over it. I see a storage room. There’s a table inside. My eyes light up, and I look over at Fatima. She sees it too. Without a word, we begin hauling Salman across the store’s floor and towards the closet.
We reach there right as the jeep, or whatever it is, passes by the building. It doesn’t stop or even slow down. I think that means we’re safe, but neither of us glance back as we arrive at the table. There are a few wires and cables on it. Looks like somebody was repairing them.
“Hold him.”
Hearing my command, Fatima grabs both sides of him as I let go. I clear the table off with one quick swipe. The cords loudly clatter on the floor. Turing back to Salman, I grab one side of him. His shirt’s sleeve is soaked by my bleeding hand. Laying him on the table, I realize that his eyes are barely open.
With him set, Fatima hurries to his head and begins checking his eyes for something. I don’t know what to do. I stare at her face, trying to read her expression.
“Zaid.” Fatima’s voice is authoritative as she runs some test by moving her finger further and closer to his pupils. “Put pressure on the wound.”
With my bloody hand on top of my other one, I press down on his thigh’s bullet wound. His jeans are drenched in blood. They feel like a soaked towel. As soon as I push down on it, I feel blood squirting out onto my hand. It oozes between my fingers and across my palm. My heart squirms at the sight and thought, but I apply and keep as much pressure as humanly possible, putting all my weight into it.