But the firefight is moving too quickly. It’s catching up. I can’t outrun it. Vehicles are riddled with bullets before their engines catch fire. The bombs continue rocking the street, leveling anything or anyone they hit. Shockwaves and heat crash against me from every side. Black smoke keeps rising up to the heavens.
My foot hits something, causing me to stumble. I hardly pay any attention to what it is: a corpse, a woman. Catching my footing, I keep dashing for my very life. I can’t slow down. Not even two steps later, I run right over another body. A third is to my right, but I don’t even look at it.
A rocket slams into a high-rise building directly in front of me. The scorching explosion cuts through the smoke. I react on instinct. Shielding my face from the blast and the dust, I take cover behind a broken-down car. There’s another figure hiding on all fours. It’s a man. His head is pressed against the concrete and his hands cover the back of his skull. He’s cowering, too scared to even move.
The roar of the blast dies off. By the time I look back up, the building’s wall breaks off and falls towards the road. I leap back to my feet. But then I stop. Hearing a cry above the destruction, I whip my head around and see a woman. Her foot is trapped under a chunk of debris.
I don’t think—I can’t think. Not now. Sprinting to her in a frantic dash, I crouch down beside her. The debris has her left foot and calf pinned. Her gaze locks with mine, eyes consumed by a fearful terror. It’s the same terror I’ve now seen too many times. They’re begging for any help.
What can I do? Will she even be able to walk after this? Don’t think about that now, Zaid.
Her foot might be shattered under the concrete. But it doesn’t matter. I have to try something. There’s a gap between the slab of concrete and the ground, and I find a place to grab the debris from underneath.
They’re almost here. The gunfire is closing in.
The concrete debris is thick and appears heavy, but I don’t let it sway me. I can’t leave her here to die. With a deep breath, I try raising it up. The weight doesn’t move. Squatting down, I lift up with all my might. Using my back and legs, I pull with every ounce of strength I can muster.
The fighting is drawing closer. The gunfire sounds louder than ever.
I can’t lift the debris, but I don’t give in. I feel my veins showing as I try to move it. All I need is a few inches, just enough for her to move her foot out from under it. My arms are shaking. My body trembles. My ears go deaf as another explosion erupts on the other side of the street. Its heat crashes against my back, but I don’t waver. The concrete is still not moving.
The shooting is nearly on us.
I look up at the scorching heavens. With a roar, I give it everything I have. I muster all that I can rally. I don’t stop. My fingers are in pain and feel like they’re going to break off, and I cannot feel my arms. But the concrete doesn’t move an inch.
A bullet strikes the debris directly to my left. They’re upon us. It’s too late.
Chapter 21
A Promise
Sitting on the swing, my head hangs low as I hold on to one of the chains with both hands. A few tears leave my cheeks wet as they roll onto my chin. I hear all the boys playing in the distance. With Salman sick, there were an odd number of us today when we were picking teams. Guess who was left out. None of the boys even looked my way when deciding who’d play. They just picked the teams and started without me as if I didn’t exist.
The school’s back wall is not even twenty feet away from me. Ms. Farooq is grading today’s exams right now, but I already know what my result is. We already got yesterday’s test’s results back. Everyone in the class passed… everyone except for one person. She read the scores out in front of the class. Ms. Farooq said my score the loudest, going on to say that scores like mine don’t make it into art school, let alone medical school. Why does she do that?
The tree’s shade does very little to protect me from the endless heat. This tree is just like the one in the park—the one Nabeel and I stand under when we are skipping stones. It’s been so long. I miss him… so much. I don’t know if he thinks of me, but I can’t think of anything but my brother these days. Wherever I go, Nabeel is on my mind. I can’t shake him off. I can’t—
“Zaid, are you alright?”
Recognizing her voice as it comes from behind me, I quickly wipe away the tears with my shirt’s sleeve. Can’t let her see me like this. Can’t let anybody see me like this.
Her footsteps grow closer. Taking a deep breath in an effort to hide my state, I slowly turn around to face Fatima.
She’s standing by the tree’s trunk. Her pretty, emerald eyes are on me. They seem… caring. “Why are you by yourself, Zaid?”
“I was… I was trying to—” I can’t even think of an excuse.
“It’s okay, Zaid.” Fatima takes a seat on the swing next to mine and gently takes ahold of either chain. Her gaze focuses on the ground in front of her. “It’s okay to want to be alone sometimes.”
“You’re never alone.”
“Sometimes… sometimes we’re all alone.” Fatima looks back at me. “Are you thinking about Nabeel?”
My gaze leaves her. “He’s everything I want to be. He’s everything anybody wants to be: brave, smart, fearless. I want to be like him—want to be just like him. I want nothing more than for him to be proud of me. I want to be all of those things… but I’m not. I’m last place in everything. Sports, school… I’m…”
“No, you’re not, Zaid.” Fatima pauses. “There’s one thing I know you have that nobody else does. Something I always see in your eyes.”
“What?” I meet her gaze.
“Hope.” She smiles. “Hope, Zaid. I see you dream bigger dreams than anybody else. No matter what, your hope never dies. People try and take it away from you. Sometimes it’s our teacher. Sometimes it’s the other boys. But you never let them. And hope is worth everything. It’s worth more than everything else combined. I’ve never met a bigger dreamer than you, and I don’t think I ever will.”
I don’t reply.
“You always talk about being a doctor—the best doctor ever. You always speak about changing the world, Zaid. Promise me you’ll never lose that. No matter what happens or what anybody else says, promise me you’ll never forget that.”
There’s a silence. A long one. Our gazes remain locked, and in that moment I feel a connection with Fatima that I’ve never felt before. There is a light in the darkness, a sliver of hope I never truly sensed until now: her. A smile creeps onto my face. “I promise.”
Chapter 22
Crossroads
My body awakes with a jolt. But when it does, I’m no longer in the middle of the street. What am I on? It feels like… a bed? My eyes shoot open, finding themselves staring at a ceiling. It all hits me: the explosions, gunfire, screams, and helplessness. Instinctively trying to sit upright, a heavy hand on my chest keeps me down.
“Whoa there, kid. Take it easy.”
The words are Arabic, but the accent isn’t Syrian. I look at the strong hand. Then at the face it belongs to. It’s a fair-skinned man with black hair and green eyes—a darker shade of green.
“You took a nasty hit.” His face is a little grizzled, but he gives off a warm presence. He’s wearing a pair of rugged jeans and a black shirt over his well-built frame. The man keeps me pressed down for a long moment before lifting his hand off of me and relaxing back in his chair. “How are you feeling?”
I blink a few times without answering, trying to decipher if this is reality or not. One moment, I’m out in the middle of a battlefield. Then, I’m suddenly here with this stranger. I know it all really happened, still feeling all the pain of being thrown around by the blasts. I look down at the bed I’m on. It’s up against the wall with him on the other side. Outside of a small table, there’s no other furniture in the room. A blanket covers me from below my waist. The room is warm. I slowly sit up, wincing as I do. “…fine. I feel fine.”