Chapter Eighteen

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I was driving away from the mountains. Khalesia was lying with her feet on my lap and her head on Musa's. I had no idea what I could do for her or how I would be able to help her. If I could make it back to the base, corpsmen would treat her, but what then? What would happen to these kids after this was all over? How could I take care of them? They couldn't go back home, that was for sure. I knew from intel reports that once the Taliban thought you were involved with NATO forces, they would kill you, whether you were guilty or not.

I wasn't sure why I was thinking about all of that. I didn't even know if I had enough gas to make it to the base. And I was really starting to feel the effects of being out here. My hands were shaking against the wheel. I was starting to see light flares. I kept driving. This was probably my last hope. If I didn't get out of there before nightfall, I was pretty sure that I never would. I looked at my watch. It was almost nine and the sun was still shining. Maybe we would get lucky.

I drove for what felt like an hour, thought it was really only twenty minutes. Every once in a while I would pass a bunch of goats. We didn't pass any people.

After another twenty minutes I saw a group of houses. As I got closer, more houses began to appear. It seemed like I was approaching a village. I started to feel apprehensive, because I wasn't sure what I would find. Could I even drive through the village in a truck? There was only this road, so I just kept driving.

Most villages in Afghanistan were small, consisting of maybe a few houses. After passing an aqueduct, I figured out that this particular village was probably a city. This was a good sign. If I was near a city, that meant I was on a road that might eventually lead me toward the base. Or I might run into a group of Marines on a convoy. I sat up straighter, trying to stay alert.

      The city was quiet. Very few people were out and about, which wasn't too unusual, but Afghan cities were usually bustling during the early morning, with people trying to get to the market early to collect the day's food. The road took a sharp turn to the right and I remained on it. Khalesia's brother tapped me on the arm and said something.

"I'm sorry—what?"

He kept pointing and talking. His tone grew more insistent. I turned another sharp corner. Then I saw that I had driven directly into the center of the city bazaar, and I understood what he'd been trying to tell me.

I tried to back out of the bazaar. As soon as I turned the corner, the way out was immediately blocked by a throng of people. Musa looked up at me with a wide-eyed expression. He kept talking.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror. My blonde hair was streaked with dirt. My face was dirty, and my tears had left streaks in the dirt. My lips were chapped and cracked, and I had a nasty black eye. I looked like a trauma patient. But I was alive. And I wasn't about to give up just yet.

Chastity had once told me that Afghans will move when pushed. "Just keep pushing forward until they get out of your way."

"Aren't they afraid of being run over?"

"Nah. They just roll with it. They'll move when you get close enough."

I started backing up the truck. Maybe if I could just get back to the other street, I'd be able to find another way out of the city. I heard a pop and a crunch, and then wailing. Several men were slapping the back of the truck and yelling.

I rolled the truck forward. Khalesia's brother looked at me. He was cradling Khalesia's head. She was moaning a little. More people started to gather around the truck. I needed to get us out of here. But there was no way I was going to be able to ram through all of these people.

No Place for FemalesOnde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora