Between the Grapevines

16. Sittata 'Ashar

[Strap in again. This chapter's just as crazy as the last, maybe more].

"I hope I don't die suddenly," Radi murmured into the quiet home around them, voicing his thoughts as he did every night while Riyad tried to sleep beside him. "I hope I remember to testify to my Lord before I die. That's why I don't want it to come unexpectedly. When I have a wife, I'll tell her to remind me when we get old."

Riyad pulled his heavy eyes open in his still position, turned away from his sleeping brother. He thought of a future like that. One in which he and his brother would grow to live as weak and white-haired men surrounded by their wives and grandchildren. His heart grew light at the image that filled his distraction but his mind remained heavy by how distant it seemed.

How impossible.

"What do you think, Riyad? How would you like to die?" Radi asked curiously. The bags crinkled beneath them as he turned over to ask his brother.

Riyad took a deep breath, exhausted from the day's work. "What's gone into your mind to make you speak of death, Radi?" He groaned, tugging the covers more firmly over his body as the wind blew strongly outside.

The boy hummed. "It's going to happen to all of us. I'm only curious. Tell me, brother, how do you think you'd like to die?" He asked again.

Riyad remained quiet for a moment, pursing his lips together at the familiar thoughts that crossed his mind. "I'd like to die when my time in this life has come to its end. When I no longer have anything keeping me here, I will die."

"But what about me? I will always be here!"

"Then I will never die," Riyad snorted. "By God's will."

Riyad's head ached as he pulled his heavy eyelids apart, finding the familiarly worn-down wood of his childhood home only a few inches from his face. He lifted his forehead from its roughness, his back aching from the position he found himself sat in with his legs folded beneath him. His hands were tied tightly behind his back.

"He's awake," an unfamiliar voice spoke. One that did not belong to his brother—the only person who'd ever joined him in the space. The person who hadn't stepped into its space since they'd both stepped out together with their plan to cross the border heavy on their minds.

Riyad tried to turn his head but the stiffness of his neck forced him to remain still as another voice spoke up. "Finally, you've decided to join us." This voice Riyad recognized. The thick accent that laced their attempt to match his language was one he had grown up surrounded by. It made every hair on his body rise with a rippling tension. "Your wife has been waiting."

That was when it dawned on Riyad and all the memories of what had brought him here came rushing back. He ignored the stiffness in his neck and turned toward their voices, finding three armed men standing beneath the low-hanging roof. One held the ropes tying his arms back tightly behind him, the other spoke and smirked at him in amusement, and the third stood beside the fourth person that joined them in the space.

Riyad's eyes left all of them and settled on the girl who stood silently in her place, her arms lifted beside her to the rope pinning her to the wall. A black cloth bag remained placed over her face similar to the one they'd pulled off of his brother's face when they stood him on the platform to be hanged. He tugged at his arms but they remained firmly stuck together.

"Uncover her face," he breathed, his throat aching with each word.

"You're not in a place to make orders, Riyad." The helmet-less soldier spoke, stepping freely around the space illuminated by the lamp in his hand. He was the only one who neither held Riyad nor Harakat to their places. "You're weaponless, defenseless."