Never Fear (12 page)

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Authors: Heather Graham

Tags: #holiday stories, #christmas horror, #anthology horror, #krampus, #short stories christmas, #twas the night before

BOOK: Never Fear
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Why are the two new ones
not praying?” Rahman shouted. “Do they not know what happens if
they do not complete their
salat
?”


Forgive them, friend,”
Madihah said, rushing over to Sabra and Fahim. “They do not know
how to pray. I will teach them. They will finish the
salat
. Please, do not
tell Asadullah. I beg you.”


Finish you prayers,”
Rahman said, walking away.

Madihah led the two into the prayer
huddle.


I hate him,” Sabra
said.


Shh, you must not say
that. Rahman can seem cruel at times, but it is only a show for the
others. He is kind to us and will help us with whatever we
need.”


He killed our
mother.”

Madihah did not respond.


He shot her right in
front of me.”


Quiet, Sabra. Do not
think about it. It is time to be with God. Repeat after me and do
as I do. God is most great.”

Sabra and Fahim repeated Madihah’s
words and bowed with her. “In the name of God, the infinitely
compassionate and merciful...” Sister and brother followed the
example of their new guardian. They finished the ritual and Rahman
returned, his eyes fearful once more. He dropped a plate of rice
with a stack of flatbread onto the ground in the room’s center.
Then he bowed out of the room, afraid to look into Sabra’s baleful
stare.


Would you like to lead us
in prayer now, Sabra or Fahim?” Madihah said, waving a hand over
their simple meal.


We do not know any
Islamic prayers. We should not have even said your prayer with you.
Jesus will be mad at us for not saying his prayer.”


Oh, sweet child. It is
not like that. Our prayers are not enemies. We are all children of
the same God. We just choose to worship the Almighty in different
ways. You believe Jesus is the son of God and in your Trinity. We
believe in the words of the Prophet, Peace Be Upon Him. I am sure
you and your brother showed your father and mother love in
different ways, but they still loved you both. If we creatures are
capable of that, then how much more so is God?”


But your religion started
this war. The men who killed my family are Muslims. They are the
ones ruining our country.” Sabra turned away to hide her tears. She
was tired of crying and wanted to stop, to be strong in front of
Fahim until he was old enough to be the family’s leader, but she
could not stop herself.


This war and these
countries are not God’s doing, child. They are the creations of
men. This war exists because men have lost sight of what God wants
of us and are thinking only of themselves.


God knows your pain,
child. Remember when Jesus was born? When King Herod wanted to kill
Him and Mary and Joseph had to flee with him to Egypt? You and your
brother are not much different from Jesus now, and God knows it and
He loves you all the more because of it.


You did not think I knew
that story, did you?” Madihah smiled. “Come, pray with us.” Madihah
guided Sabra back to the plate. Her stomach growled, and she knew
Fahim would be even hungrier, so she did not resist. She knelt
beside their supper and folded her hands together.


Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name—”


Rahman!” Asadullah called
from down the hallway, his shout interrupting their prayer.
“Rahman, what is this? Who were you calling? The Army? The
Americans? Who did you call?”


No one, Haji! It is not
my phone. I do not know what that is. You know I would not betray
us. I even killed that woman for you,” Rahman squealed.


You killed that woman to
end her suffering. You killed her because you pitied the
kafir
. And do not lie to
me!” A sharp smack rang out from the door’s other side and Rahman
yelped from Asadullah’s assault. Madihah gathered the children
together in the far corner of the room, afraid Asadullah’s wrath
would breach the steel door.


Kaliq saw you on the
phone and then you hid it behind the armory room. You lie, Rahman.
You have betrayed us. You are in league with the enemy. You are an
apostate.”


No, please no. Listen to
me,” Rahman pleaded.


Bring me a knife,”
Asadullah said.

Sounds of Rahman’s struggles against
his captors crept under the cell’s door. “You cannot do this. You
have no proof. Call the phone. Asadullah, please, have mercy! Let
me explain. No. No!” Rahman’s scream lasted only a second before
blood seeped into his severed windpipe, gurgles and coughs trying
to push the liquid from his lungs.

Madihah wept for the jailor who had
shown the children and her mercy. Sabra stared at the steel door,
her jaw clenched and her eyes dry. She would let God decide if
Rahman’s good deeds outweighed his sins.


Our little dog probably
told his master we have new prisoners. Bring me the two
kafir
,” Asadullah
ordered.

Sabra grabbed her brother and ran
behind Madihah and the other children. She had to keep Fahim and
herself alive. Qadir, Mother, and Father were watching. The family
depended on her.

Two militants fiddled with the padlock
on the door, apparently unfamiliar with the keys Rahman had
carried. Sabra hugged her brother tight, burying his face in her
chest and leaning her face into him, kissing the top of his head.
She felt his body pressing their uncle’s Christmas card against
her. If they killed her, she would not die alone.

The militants undid the padlock
finally and the door began to squeal on its hinges. Then they
paused.

Sabra did not hear the sound at first,
her breathing hard and her pulse pounding in her ear. She felt the
noise before she heard it, a quick, staccato drumbeat keeping
cadence for a cavalry charge. It had been many years since she had
heard that sound. She was probably Fahim’s age, maybe even younger,
the last time the Americans flew a helicopter over
Sahaliyah.

The militants turned and shouted.
Children were of little importance to them now. Men were coming.
Dangerous men with guns were coming to kill them. The militants
rushed from the room, pausing only to reaffix the
padlock.

Madihah hugged the six children in her
charge together in the corner. The militants’ shouting grew louder
along with the beating of helicopter wings slicing through the air.
Gunshots echoed, thunderclaps signaling a coming storm. The scream
of helicopter engines drowned out every other noise, and billows of
dust clawed beneath the steel door and floated down from a small
hole in one wall. Then the helicopters rushed off and the rattle of
gunfire returned.

Sabra could not understand any of the
shouting. Some was Arabic and some was foreign, but none of it made
any sense to her. The gunfire began to die away and the foreign
shouts overtook those in Arabic. A militant within in the room
beyond theirs shouted, only to be silenced by three gunshots. The
whole building shook, the bullets passing through their target and
playing out a percussive note upon impacting the cement
walls.

A moment of quiet followed the
militant’s death, then the sounds of feet shuffling from outside
the door. Fahim and the others cried out. The door rang like a
gong, struck from the other side. Sabra waited, greeting whatever
came through the door: death or salvation.

The door rang once more and swung
open, colliding against the wall as the top hinge came loose from
the doorframe. The shapes of two men, pure, white light emitting
from their weapons and helmets, rushed into the room. Madihah
hugged the children tighter.


Left side
clear
,” a foreign voice shouted. Sabra had
seen enough television to know he spoke English but could not
understand the words.


Right side
clear
,” the other voice replied. It spoke
English as well, but the accent was familiar. The man was Iraqi,
Sabra was certain of that, but she was not sure from what
part.


Baz!” the foreigner
called out to the Iraqi. “
Get her and the
kids up. We need to get them counted and out of
here
.”


You got it,
boss.”

The foreigner lowered his weapon and
shut off the light on his helmet. Spots filled Sabra’s vision. She
blinked to push them from her vision. She looked up at the
foreigner. He was taller than anyone she had ever met. A red beard
spilled over the chinstrap of his helmet, and calm, blue eyes
greeted her from behind a pair of clear protective
glasses.


It’s
okay
,” he said. “
You’re safe now.
” Sabra nodded,
having no idea what he had just said.

 

*

 

Baz held the smallest child’s hand,
leading them from the room, with the woman bringing up the rear of
the hand-holding train. Sergeant First Class Emerett finished
checking the room and turned to the door when he saw two children
still sat in the corner. The boy shook and clung to the girl. She
stared up at him. He could not tell if the look was one of
suspicion or wonderment.


Come on you two, we have
to get going. You don’t want to stay here.” He picked the boy up
and released his rifle to take the girl’s hand. They were the same
ages as his two children back home, so he already had plenty of
practice juggling squirming masses their size. These two were much
lighter though, which told Emerett all he needed about their
hunger.

He fell in behind Baz’s trail of
children, and they halted at the building’s entrance. He released
the girl’s hand for a moment, hoping she would not run off, to
press the button on his radio’s push-to-talk.


Em and Baz are coming out
with six civilians. Still taking them to Viper 55?”


Roger, Em, Viper 55 is
the transport bird. Objective is secure, so you’re good to move,” a
voice answered in his earpiece.


Copy that, Broadsword 6.
We’re on the move. Let’s go, Baz.”

His Kurdish teammate led the way
through the courtyard and out the east gate to where the Blackhawk
helicopter had landed after they fast-roped into the courtyard. Baz
stopped at the door and gave instructions to the children and woman
to make sure none of them wandered off and lost their heads to the
tail rotor. Then he gave Emerett a nod and ran headlong to the
waiting Blackhawk.

Baz grabbed the children and handed
them off to the door gunners. He instructed the woman to make sure
the children stay seated or else they might fall out. He relieved
Emerett of his two burdens and they both hopped in and hooked in
their safety tethers to keep from falling out themselves. A minute
later, the crew chief gave the pilots a thumbs-up and the
helicopter lifted off the ground and turned east.

Despite the winter night being cold
enough to freeze the water in his CamelBak’s drinking tube, the
short operation had him sweating. The years in Group had not been
kind, and moving fast while carrying heavy loads was not as easy as
when he had tried out for Selection the first time. Emerett rolled
his sleeves up to his elbows, as much to let a draft in as to get
that “operator” look.

The girl he had carried crawled over
to him despite the woman’s rebukes. She grabbed his hand and pulled
his arm to her, studying the crucifix tattoo on his right forearm.
She looked up, delighted, and said a few words while pointing to
herself and the boy he had carried.

Emerett could not hear her over the
engine noise and would not have understood what she said anyways.
He spoke Tagalog and Pashtu and the little Arabic he did know was
of little use.

Baz saw his predicament and scooted
over to the girl, leaning in close so she could hear him. The girl
shook her head and cupped a hand against Baz’s ear. He nodded and
pressed his push-to-talk.


She is Chaldean, a
Christian. She likes your tattoo,” Baz said. Emerett gave the girl
a nod and she turned back to Baz. Baz nodded, but the smile waned
from his face. He paused for a moment before
translating.


They killed her whole
family. The little boy is her brother and they are all that is
left. Fuck these ISIS pigs, man.”

Emerett looked at the girl, unsure of
what to say. He put a hand on her head, hoping she could feel his
empathy. She smiled and reached into her jacket pocket, pulling out
a folded piece of paper and handing it to him. He looked at it and
saw a Nativity scene on the front. Inside, a family stood around a
Christmas tree, Arabic script written across the inside. The girl
turned back to Baz and he smiled while she spoke.


She says ‘Merry
Christmas.’”

Emerett smiled. He zipped open one of
the dozen pouches on his plate carrier and pulled out the trail mix
he had packed in case the mission took longer than planned. He
handed it to the girl and returned the Christmas card. She smiled
and handed the snack to the woman so they could all share. Then she
showed the card to Baz.

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