The Girl With The Gun (Sydney Rye Book 8)

by Emily Kimelman

  ***

  She was dressed like all the women in the clearing: cargo pants tucked into combat boots and a button-down shirt ballooning out, hiding her shape. Her clothing was the same green as the trees, a slightly darker shade than the grass she crossed to greet me.

  She extended her hand and I shook it—her grip was strong and her hand calloused.

  "Hi." My voice was a croak. I hadn't used it for most of the day and my throat was dry from the long hike.

  "Hello," she responded. "You are very welcome to be here."

  "That's nice to hear. I would have preferred an invitation rather than an abduction."

  She cocked her head. "I'm sorry," she looked at Mujada. "It was supposed to be an invitation."

  "Probably makes more sense to send someone who speaks the same language if you're trying to invite someone to a party or whatever this is."

  She laughed, leaning her head back and exposing the scars to the hazy light of dusk.

  "Mujada is one of my best fighters. She has the most experience in protection and had the connections to get close to you."

  "Well, she gave me a head injury."

  The Tigress's smile faded, her expression turning stern as she focused on Mujada. An irrational stab of guilt lanced through me.

  The Tigress spoke in a low voice and Mujada blushed before muttering a reply.

  "I'm very sorry, as is Mujada,” the Tigress said. "It was never my intention that you would be injured.

  "So what am I doing here?"

  "You're here to have dinner."

  "It's a long way for a meal. I don't like to play games."

  The woman smiled. "This is no game. But please, sit with me. We shall discuss the business at hand."

  "Let's start with your name."

  "Of course. I am Zerzan Khani."

  "You prefer that to the Tigress."

  She smiled and shook her head. "That is not a name I gave myself but I am proud to wear it."

  "I think it suits you."

  She reached up to the scars on her neck running her fingers over them, tilting her head slightly so that I could see them better. "It was a man, not an animal, that did this."

  "A beast."

  "Yes, I see you know by experience." She eyed the scars on my face.

  "Yes, I know what humans are capable of."

  "Men mostly, no?"

  "I've left scars in my wake. I won't pin the violence of our species onto men alone."

  She nodded. "Please, come and sit with me." She waved to a woman who dashed into the woods, returning a few minutes later with a plate of food, steam rising off it.

  The Tigress seated me next to her on a rock in the center of the field, where all the other women could see us. It felt at once like an intimate dinner and a stage performance.

  "Why am I here?" I asked again.

  The Tigress ignored me for a moment, speaking to another woman nearby who went to Mujada and retrieved Blue's bowl and his kibble. Nice touch. "You're quite the hostess."

  Zerzan smiled. "You are a very honored guest."

  "I don't even know where I am."

  "In a way, nobody does. This territory is claimed by three groups. The rightful owners, us, the Kurds." She held up a finger. "Daesh." A second finger. "The Iraqi government." A third finger.

  "But no matter who owns it, it's still in the same location on the map. And I don't know where that is."

  Zerzan brought her hand down and rubbed it against her leg. "I can show you a map if that will make you feel more comfortable. But it is our land. Kurdish land." She looked around at the women in the clearing. They watched us, their food forgotten. "The men who run the Iraqi government and those in Daesh do not respect the equality of women. But Kurdish men, they are strong and intelligent and recognize our power, purpose, and place in this world, by their side."

  "Don't see many of those men around here."

  She smiled. "It is easier for us to work alone. We are more terrifying. Daesh fighters are afraid to die at our hands."

  "Sounds like they have some sense of your power."

  "Perhaps." She smiled. "That is why they fight so hard to oppress women. Because they are afraid of us. You know, it is a part of their belief system that if a woman kills them, they don't get to go to heaven." Zerzan's eyes lit up. "I have enjoyed sending many of them to hell."

  Blue finished his kibble and came to sit by my side. My plate of food remained untouched in front of me. "Please, eat."

  It was a stew, a fragrant mix of meats and vegetables. I took a bite; it was delicious. As I ate, Zerzan spoke to a young woman who left and returned moments later with a cup made of horn and a plastic water jug filled with amber-colored liquid. She handed them to Zerzan, smiled and blushed, then hurried back to where she'd been sitting.

  She was young. They were all young.

  Zerzan unscrewed the cap and poured. The hoppy scent of beer wafted toward me as she passed me the cup. "Thank you. How old are these girls?"

  "You must be eighteen to join our ranks. You can have no husband or children. This life must be the only life for you."

  "I get that."

  "But you do not have similar regulations for Joyful Justice?"

  "We let those who want to fight, fight."

  "It is different, our struggles."

  I sipped beer and nodded. "Yes, but also the same."

  "That is why I have brought you here."

  "You mean invited me here?"

  The Tigress smiled. "Yes, English is my second language, I apologize.”

  Her accent was there, making her English more lyrical and beautiful, but her grasp of the language was obviously very good. Perhaps she’d studied abroad.

  "Are you enjoying the food?"

  My plate was almost empty. "It was delicious. And now dinner is over so ..."

  "We shall have tea."

  I sat back and finished off the last of my beer. Blue lay down with a sigh. The sun had set behind the mountain. The sky above was turning black, stars popping against the dark backdrop.

  Tea arrived, honey brown and served in small, glass cups. We let them sit in front of us, allowing the liquid to cool.

  "It is with some trepidation that I broach this subject with you."

  "I don't see why. After all, you've already kidnapped me and dragged me out to the middle of nowhere, so what could your words do that you're actions haven't already."

  Zerzan frowned. "I wish for us to be friends."

  "Hell of a beginning of a friendship."

  "I apologize again."

  "Look, Zerzan." I leaned forward, the perfume from the fragrant tea wafting up toward me: mint and tobacco. "I understand that you are fighting for more than just your lives here. That you're fighting for a way of life, for women, for, well, what aren't you fighting for? I want to hear what you have to say. So spit it the fuck out."

  "I want you. I want to form an alliance."

  Well, didn't everyone want an alliance these days? "In what way?"

  "You have influence with the US government."

  "Influence?" I smiled. "I wouldn't call it that. They want me to figure out how to get more women around the world to rise up and fight against Daesh. To create the kind of campaign Daesh has created that draws young men from around the globe to fight. They want me to do the same for women."

  "How?"

  "How did you get these women to be here?"

  "These women are my family. We are from the same place. We're fighting for our land and for our people's future. There are many women like us in FKP.”

  "Don't you think that your fight is in the interest of everyone on the planet? That Daesh must be defeated? That their type of radicalism, their zealotry, and insanity must be wiped out?"

  "Of course I do."

  "But it's not just Daesh; it's not only those young men who seek to enslave women and perpetrate violence across the globe. It is everywhere. Your fight is every woman's fight."

  Zerzan leaned towa
rd me. "We need your help. Weapons, training, troops."

  "The American government has refused you these things?"

  "They have given us some. They have also listed us as a terrorist organization." She gestured to a machine gun that rested against the rock we sat on. "We have some weapons and we've had some training, but not the right kind."

  "What do you mean, not the right kind?"

  "Men have trained us, which has helped. But we are not men. And we do not fight like men." Zerzan picked up her tea and took a sip. "When we fight for our rights, we ask to be the same as men." She put the cup down. "We are not the same and so we must recognize that. We are no better or worse, but different. As a Christian is different from a Muslim is different from a Buddhist. All equal. All different. So when a man trains us, he trains us to fight like men. What we need is to fight like women."

  "From what I understand, fighting like a man has worked for you so far."

  "I have ended many lives. But I am only one woman and there must be tens of thousands of us, well-trained and well-equipped, in order for us to win. There are tens of thousands of them. There are more women on the planet, and yet we are subjugated to men almost everywhere. Even in your birth nation, a land of freedom, women are not equals. No law can make us equal, no decree by a man can free us from oppression. We must rise up. We must feel in our bones and know in our souls that we are equal."

  "I was trained by a man. I think that I fight like a woman because I am a woman," I said.

  "You are Sydney Rye. You are a great warrior. You cannot be defeated."

  "That is propaganda. The same could be said about you. So what makes you think that I can do something you cannot?"

  A walkie-talkie on Zerzan's hip crackled and she picked up, responding in Kurdish.

  The soldiers moved quickly—one moment they were sitting around, leaning against rocks, but with one gesture from their leader, they were in action. Quietly and gracefully, the women picked up their rifles and faded into the shadows of the forest, leaving only the imprints of their bodies in the grass.

  Chapter Six

  The Tigress took my hand; hers was the same size as mine, callouses in all the right places. The link between us was childish, like two little girls running into the woods to play rather than experienced killers lighting into the darkness to prey.

  I didn't know where or who our enemy was—it could be Daesh, U.S troops sent to rescue me, or another combatant I didn't even know existed—but I believed that the Tigress and I were on the same side.

  The darkness was thick with branches and the ground uneven. Blue tapped his nose to my hip, letting me know he was there. The soft sound of pine needles crinkling underfoot revealed the other bodies moving through the forest.

  I stumbled over a tree root. Zerzan held me up but I felt my ankle twist and pain shoot up my leg.

  Blue nudged my hip, encouraging me to continue, and I limped forward. The pain anchored me; I was here—it didn't matter specifically where on the globe—I was in this world and even without details, I knew who and what I was about.

  Zerzan stopped, releasing me but staying close, a shadowed silhouette against a background of black on black. Blue brushed my hand with his nose as he turned around, scanning the forest behind us.

  "Do you hear it?" Zerzan asked.

  The hooting of an owl echoed and the wind wrestled with the trees. Zerzan inhaled, my ankle thrummed, and the low throb of thunder radiated. What was real?

  Clouds parted and the white light of the moon glimmered through the trees. A cold wind raised goosebumps on my arms.

  Blue was watching me, his eyes reflective green. He licked his lips and moved his feet ever so slightly.

  "Who are we hiding from?"

  Zerzan smiled slowly, her teeth white in the darkness.

  "We are not hiding, Sydney; we are about to attack."

  Blue's ears perked forward. I raised my rifle in line with him.

  Zerzan, her weapon up, moved off, Blue and I in her wake.

  Putting weight on my ankle sent lightning bolts shooting across my vision.

  I saw them just as Blue touched my hip—dark figures crouched low, their shoulders bunched and rifles raised, moving perpendicular to us, headed for the meadow.

  I took long, slow, deep breaths and blocked out the pain from my ankle.

  Zerzan held her breath and fired. Flames exploded from the barrel of her rifle, lighting up her face—one eye closed as she pressed against the scope, her mouth pursed, almost as if she was offering a kiss.

  The bang ricocheted through the woods and birds exploded from the trees.

  One of the figures fell and the rest turned in our direction.

  I dropped to the ground, Blue diving next to me.

  Bullets whizzed above us, sinking into the trunks and exploding off the branches of the trees. The sticky scent of pine warred with the acrid stench of gun smoke.

  Zerzan remained standing, debris zinging around her.

  She fired again, the bang of her rifle the loudest in the chorus. Another figure dropped, this one accompanied by a gurgling scream.

  The three remaining combatants backed away.

  Zerzan showed no fear; she shot again, the backfire jerking her shoulder slightly, and another fell. The two remaining assailants turned and ran into the night. Zerzan took off after them in a sprint, her black hair reflecting the moonlight in blue streaks.

  They all blurred into the darkness.

  Gray smoke floated above us, picking up the light of the moon and dancing it in. The pine needles pricked through my clothing. Footsteps pounded over the soft earth. Gunshots fired.

  A dark figure approached us and Blue's tail swept through the pine needles letting me know it was someone he knew. "Sydney."

  I didn't recognize the whispering voice immediately, but knew that it wasn't Zerzan.

  The woman moved through the woods, her rifle up, voice low but clear.

  "Sydney!"

  Her accent was American. It was Mary. So this was some kind of rescue mission.

  I looked over at Blue who was following Mary's progress. It seemed rude not to say hello. I doubted she would come all this way just to kill me.

  I whistled and Mary stopped, turning slowly toward us, her rifle moving with her gaze. I waved at her as her eyes scanned over me.

  Mary crouched next to us. “Don’t worry; we are going to get you out of here.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “We tracked the transport truck that Mujada stole. Then located you using drone surveillance.”

  “Nifty.”

  “What?”

  Blue tensed next to me at the sound of approaching footfalls.

  I shook my head and held a finger to my lips then shifted in the direction of the sound.

  It was strange to feel that I had no enemies. There was the Tigress and her soldiers who wanted to keep me with them versus Mary and her men who wanted to take me away. Neither side wanted to hurt me: both believed that I had value.

  Enough value that they would die for me. Why weren't they on the same side?

  ***

  "This is going to sound crazy," I said to Mary. "But I think we are all on the same side here."

  "They kidnapped you."

  "Yeah, but only because they want the same things as you."

  Mary's rifle was raised and aimed at the approaching figures.

  How could she know if they were her friends or enemies in this darkness? Perhaps she'd brought all men in order to keep it straight.

  I started to stand up, but Mary grabbed my arm. "What are you doing?" Her voice was harsh and worried.

  "Brokering a peace accord."

  It sounded crazy but it made sense.

  Everyone was on the same side. The enemy—Daesh—wasn't here. By killing each other, we were winning the war for them.

  I pulled free of Mary and stood, being careful not to put too much weight on my twisted ankle. The dark shapes in front of me st
opped and braced themselves, rifles aimed at me. "I'm Sydney Rye!"

  They lowered their weapons—they didn't want to kill me. That was the first agreement we could come to.

  I waved them over. As the three women approached, I saw that they were the Tigress's soldiers. They appeared older than they had in the meadow at sunset, the moonlight highlighting the fierce determination in their expressions.

  "Mary, I want you to meet the Tiger Cubs."

  "What?"

  "Remember the Tigress, the woman who Daesh claimed to have killed, cutting off her head, blah, blah, blah?"

  Mary nodded.

  "Well, this was her party you just broke up. These are her soldiers." I pointed at the rifles they held. "You gave them those guns. Well, obviously not you. But they were supplied by the US government. It's kind of like you guys have the same boss. Except you don't listen to your boss." I looked over at Mary. She didn't respond. "And these ladies, they listen to their boss but their boss doesn't listen to you."

  "Are you drunk?" Mary asked in a low voice. "Because you're sounding kind of drunk."

  "I had like half a beer. But I really don't think that's what's making me talk like this. I think it's that the situation is so truly ridiculous it's actually difficult not to laugh. But if you all could stop shooting each other, I think we could sit down and have a conversation."

  The soldiers were eyeing Mary. She was eyeing them back.

  "Any of you have a radio?" I asked the women in front of me. They didn't respond and I turned to Mary who translated. One of them stepped forward and held out a walkie-talkie. "Can we get Zerzan on this thing?"

  Mary translated and the woman nodded, opening a channel and speaking into the radio. The response crackled, sounding very loud and foreign in the dark forest. The woman handed me the walkie-talkie "Zerzan?"

  "I am here, Sydney."

  "Let's stop killing each other. I think we're on the same team here. How about we meet back at the meadow and I talk to all of you."

  "These men attacked us. They are dangerous to my soldiers; I cannot let them live."

  "You said you wanted my help, now you're getting it. Tell your troops to stand down." I raised my chin at Mary, signaling that she should do the same. Mary held my gaze as she raised her wrist to her mouth and spoke into her sleeve.