by Susan Cliff
Hanna nodded at this prediction. “She sees the future.”
“What does she see for you?” Layah asked.
The girl glanced at Ashur, who was standing with his cousins. Then she looked down at her tea, cheeks flushed.
Layah wondered if Hanna had a crush on him. Ashur hadn’t paid her much attention. He was more interested in guns than girls. Perhaps that would change when they were free again. She hoped he would give up on his quest for vengeance.
Yelda made a scolding remark, indicating that she did not see Ashur in the girl’s future. Yazidis weren’t allowed to marry outsiders, or even speak with them under most circumstances. Although Yelda had happily suggested a match between Layah and Hudson, a foreigner, the option wasn’t open to her granddaughter.
Layah studied her nephew from the girl’s perspective. He was handsome, even with that perpetual scowl. He had her brother’s strong features, softened by youth and thick eyelashes. To Hanna, Ashur might seem forbidden and mysterious. Ashur, in turn, thought all Yazidis were backward and inferior.
The grandmother had nothing to worry about.
After a light breakfast of tea and powdered eggs, Layah brushed her teeth and washed her face in the snow. She’d given everyone a tiny tube of toothpaste and a bar of hotel soap at the start of the journey, but they’d had few opportunities to wash. If she wasn’t sharing intimate space with Hudson, she might not have bothered.
By the time she joined the men, Hudson was halfway up the cliff. Although he made it look easy, she knew it wasn’t. Every five meters or so he hammered a piece of gear into the rock, anchoring himself in place. Then he rested with his hands cupped over his mouth. The rock face was mostly smooth and free of snow, but it was a blustery morning. Without gloves, his fingertips must be frozen.
Near the top of the cliff, there was a difficult spot, with no convenient ledges or handholds. Hudson had to brace his fingers inside a crack in the wall and use that for leverage. Layah didn’t take a full breath until he reached the summit.
When he pulled himself over the edge, cheers rang out in three or four different languages. She hugged Ashur, who frowned and pushed her away. She didn’t take offense. She’d grown accustomed to his rebuffs.
“How are we going to follow him?” she asked, in awe of Hudson’s feat.
“He will come back down to show us what to do,” Ashur said.
Hudson hammered more anchors at the top of the cliff. Then he rappelled down the rock face the same way he’d rappelled into the crevasse, with swift efficiency. When he reached the ground, he gestured for her to join him. He took a device out of his pack to show the group. “This is a belay. It will catch the rope if someone falls.”
He demonstrated the technique, while Layah translated. He picked Nadir, the heaviest man, to stand below and belay.
“We’re using the fixed line to climb.” He pointed to the rope he’d anchored to the cliff. “It’s faster and safer. The safety line is just for backup. If someone can’t make it on their own, the men on the ground can pull them up.”
She repeated this information to the others.
“I’ll climb first to show you what to do,” Hudson told her. “As soon as I’m finished, you can start. I want the women to go before the men. I’ll come back down to belay Nadir at the end.”
“Who will belay you?” she asked.
“No one.”
She nodded, accepting this risky decision. He started his second ascent and wasted no time getting to the summit. She committed every move he made to memory. When he was safe, he removed the belay rope and tossed it down the cliff. Then it was her turn.
She wanted to go first. If she climbed the rock wall without falling or needing help from the men, the other women were more likely to follow suit.
She attached the rope to her harness and started climbing. It was harder than she’d expected. Her body was sore from several days of travel, and the altitude didn’t help. She had to rest on the second ledge to catch her breath. Then she continued to climb, using her leg muscles to walk up the wall. She focused on making steady progress. Step by step, hand over hand. Before she knew it, she was halfway there.
Then she made the grave mistake of looking down. It was a sickening distance. One of her boots slipped and she almost lost her balance. Her stomach dropped about twenty meters. She clung to the fixed line, scrambling for a better foothold.
Hudson shouted down at her, “You’re doing great. Just hang on.”
She swallowed hard, trying not to panic. She kept her gaze locked on him. His eyes held hers and she felt the familiar jolt of chemistry between them. Her nerves settled and her chest swelled with exhilaration.
She could do this.
A few minutes later, she was at the top of the cliff. He dragged her away from the edge and unfastened the safety rope on her harness. She stared up at him in wonder. He had snow in his beard. He looked like an advertisement for an adventure magazine.
She’d never felt so alive.
He crushed his mouth over hers, making the best of an amazing moment. She laced her fingers through his hair, delighted with the bold choice. It was just the two of them, on top of the world together. No one else could see them.
He wasn’t shy about parting her lips with his tongue. She wasn’t shy about moaning her encouragement. They shared a snowflake-melting, life-affirming, toe-curling kiss.
His mouth left hers much too soon. “You’re dangerous.”
She sputtered with laughter. “Me?”
“I want you.”
Her breath caught in her throat.
“I’m willing to risk getting shot by your cousins just to have you.”
She raked her nails through his hair, biting her lower lip. “I think you like risk. I think it arouses you.”
His nostrils flared and his eyes blazed with hunger. They were dangerous together. Combustible. She found herself saying and doing the most shameless things. Maybe taking risks aroused her, too. With a low groan, he rolled away from her. Then he picked up the end of the safety rope and started winding it around his elbow. When he had it gathered in a coil, he tossed it down the cliff for the next climber.
Layah rose to her feet and studied their surroundings. They were in Turkey, or close to it. This side of the Zagros wasn’t as severe. Snowy, gradual slopes dissolved into rolling green hills. She was pleased with their progress. They were actually on schedule.
“You are an excellent guide,” she said, smiling.
He arched a brow. “Do I get a bonus?”
She could imagine what he wanted, and she was tempted to give it to him. He was an ideal candidate for a short affair. Sexy, passionate, casual. He’d never expect more from her, and he’d leave well before she got attached.
In theory.
In reality, sleeping with him was a terrible idea. He was her hostage. He was connected to her brother’s death. Hasan had worked as an interpreter for Hudson’s team in Syria. She felt guilty about forcing Hudson on this journey, and for deceiving him. Using him for pleasure would only complicate things.
He stretched out on his belly to watch the next climber. She noted his broad shoulders and taut buttocks with a wistful sigh. Yelda said they’d get married at the end of the journey. Layah hoped they would not be enemies.
They spent the next two hours at the summit. Some of the women needed help, and Yusef fell once on his way up, but everyone reached the top safely—thanks to Hudson. She knew they couldn’t have made the ascent without him. They wouldn’t have survived the trek over the surface of the glacier, either. His expertise was priceless.
At midmorning, they started hiking again. Traveling downhill was a little easier, but she struggled with the terrain. It was a snowy slog over shifting slopes. The heavy pack dragged her off balance and the ground felt unstable. They skipped lunch because there was nothing
to eat. Her stomach gnawed with hunger and her feet ached.
She was about to ask for a break when one of the men shouted a warning.
“Watch out!”
Layah turned to see loose rocks careening down the hillside. They all scrambled to get clear of the danger. Hanna lost her footing and almost fell in the direct path of the rocks. Ashur yanked her out of harm’s way. They both tumbled to the ground.
Layah rushed forward as soon as the rocks settled. “Are you all right?” she asked the girl in Kurdish.
“I’m fine,” Hanna said, nodding at Ashur. “Thank you.”
He knew enough Kurdish to mumble a polite response. Then he rose to his feet and hurried away as if the girl had a disease he might catch.
Yelda helped Hanna upright and they continued to the bottom of the slope. When they were on stable ground, Hudson allowed them a short rest.
Layah joined him to discuss their afternoon plans. He was pushing hard, like always. “We need water,” he said, studying the landscape. There was a valley with a cluster of trees in the distance.
She glanced around, surprised by the lack of snow in the area. They’d covered a lot of distance in a few hours. She took the map out of her pack and unfolded it. His eyes darkened at the reminder of their uneasy alliance.
“There’s a lake in this region,” she said.
“Yeah? What region is that?”
“Turkey,” she said, ignoring his caustic tone. “There is a large body of water on the Turkish side of the border. If we see it, we know we are on the right path.”
“Those trees look promising.”
“I agree.”
“Do you want me to scout ahead?”
“No. It is not far.”
They set out again, moving forward with grim determination. Layah kept a close watch on Hanna, who trudged along behind her grandmother. They were all exhausted, but they needed water more than they needed rest. The distance to the valley seemed endless. The sun stayed suspended above the horizon.
Finally, they arrived at a cluster of trees which overlooked a sprawling blue lake. It was a glorious sight.
Layah didn’t feel her feet touch the ground until she reached the shore. She shrugged off her pack, laughing with glee. She gave Ashur a bone-crushing hug, and he hugged her back. With a triumphant cry, she ran to the water’s edge and fell to her knees.
Tears coursed down her cheeks as she cupped her hands in the chilly liquid and drank deeply. Then she looked up at the sky and opened her arms wide.
This was freedom.
Chapter 9
Hud didn’t join the celebration at the lakeside.
A strange feeling had settled in the pit of his stomach as he watched Layah exchange embraces with the others. It wasn’t jealousy. It was aversion. He stood at a safe distance, his heart pounding with trepidation. Although no one tried to hug him, the very idea caused him to break out in a cold sweat.
He knew the symptoms of PTSD. He’d been trained to recognize the warning signs, and prisoners of war rarely escaped unscathed. But his recovery had been easier than expected so far. He hadn’t suffered from nightmares, mood swings or delusions. His encounters with Layah hadn’t triggered him. Her touch had a soothing effect, in fact. He’d convinced himself that he was strong enough to avoid the affliction.
His current reaction told him otherwise. He swallowed hard, struck by a wave of bad memories. During the first few weeks in his cell, he’d been forced to stay awake. He’d been kicked and punched and doused with water. Whenever he let his guard down and surrendered to exhaustion, he got punished.
Then the torture sessions stopped, and he missed them. He missed his captors. He couldn’t stand the isolation. He’d craved human contact. One day, when a guard had been standing over him with a rifle, he’d bear-hugged the man around the ankles just to touch someone.
It was the same guard he’d killed, too. He felt more shame and guilt about hugging him than killing him.
Yeah. That was pretty twisted.
Now he felt like throwing up because people were embracing in his presence. His next psych eval was going to be fun. He could withstand waterboarding and dead bodies and sleep deprivation and extreme ops, but not hugging. Hugging was too much.
He staggered away from the joyful scene and disappeared in the trees. He walked until he couldn’t hear happy voices anymore. He walked until he was alone, and he could breathe again. Then his shoulder muscles relaxed and his anxiety eased.
Wiping a hand down his sweaty face, he shook off the dregs of the episode. Then he approached the shoreline for a drink. He wouldn’t normally take the risk, but a glacier-fed lake in a remote location was about as clean as you could get. He made a cup with his hands and drank straight from the source.
He spotted a set of deer tracks when he lifted his head. He crouched down to touch the soft mud, glancing into the trees. The tracks were fresh. His stomach growled with hunger. Now that his nausea had passed, he was starving again.
His detour into the woods didn’t go unnoticed. Aram and Yusef burst through the trees, their rifles raised. Ashur followed close behind.
Hud stood slowly, raising his palms. He’d never believed Layah’s claim that her cousins meant him no harm. He didn’t trust her, but his desire for her hadn’t waned. Whenever he looked at her, the ugliness of the world faded away, and nothing else mattered.
“Why are you alone?” Ashur asked.
Hud dropped his hands. “I was taking a piss. Maybe your cousins hold each other’s dicks, but I don’t need any help.”
Ashur flushed at this response. He didn’t translate.
“We should hunt,” Hud said, changing the subject. “These are fresh tracks.”
Aram lowered his weapon and studied the prints. He exchanged a few words with Yusef, who shook his head. After a short debate, Yusef gave his rifle to Ashur. The boy accepted it with reverence.
“I will hunt with you,” Ashur said. “They want to stay here.”
Hud shrugged. It wasn’t what he’d expected, after being interrogated at gunpoint, but he didn’t argue.
“Be careful,” Yusef said in stilted English. Then he walked away with Aram.
“Why are they letting me go with you?” Hud asked Ashur.
“They think you are the best shot, and they are tired.”
“Aren’t you tired?”
“Yes, but I want to learn to kill.”
“So you can avenge your father.”
“And my mother.”
Hud crossed his arms over his chest. “The first thing you need to know is that killing and emotions don’t mix. Only a calm man has a steady trigger finger.”
Ashur narrowed his eyes. “I am calm.”
“You’re angry.”
“You are angry also. You insult my cousins and lust for my aunt. Do these feelings make you unable to kill?”
Hud rubbed a hand over his mouth. Ashur was too smart for his own good, and too determined to dissuade. Hud didn’t know why he was trying to talk Ashur out of his revenge fantasy. What did he care if the kid went on a rampage? Hud wanted Layah. Ashur wasn’t his problem. “Have you fired a gun before?”
“Yes. Aram let me shoot at cans once.”
“Give me the rifle. You’re holding it wrong.”
Ashur passed it over. Hud checked the safety before he explained the parts of the rifle and showed Ashur how to handle it correctly. The boy was a quick study. He listened with interest and asked a few questions.
Hud insisted on carrying the rifle through the woods, but he didn’t spot any deer. They lost the trail as soon as they moved away from the muddy shoreline. He continued uphill until they reached a clearing. There was a cluster of rocks to hide behind. It was as good a post as any. He got down on the ground and gave the rifle to Ashur.
“When c
an I shoot?”
“When you see an animal.”
“You think the deer is here?”
“I have no idea.”
“Where do I shoot it?”
“I’d go for the chest, and you have to wait for the right moment. If it stops to sniff the air, take the shot. Line it up and squeeze the trigger.”
“Okay,” Ashur said.
Ten minutes went by. It was almost sunset, and the temperature had dropped. They hadn’t brought their jackets. Hud rolled over and tucked his hands behind his head, content to let Ashur keep watch. He doubted they’d have any luck.
“Can we make the deer come out?” Ashur asked.
“Not if we don’t know where it is.”
Ashur was quiet for another ten minutes. Then he shifted and flexed his trigger hand. “I do not like hunting.”
“Do you like eating?”
“Not as much as you.”
“What does Layah plan to do in Turkey?”
“We go first to the Yazidi village to deliver Hanna and Yelda.”
“Then what?”
“Then we go to an Assyrian place.”
Hud wondered where they would part ways. He could leave the group as soon as they moved away from the border. He didn’t anticipate any trouble from the Turkish authorities in the country’s interior. “You did a good thing for Hanna today.”
Ashur grunted at the compliment.
“Maybe you can stay friends.”
“Yazidi girls aren’t allowed to be friends with boys from other faiths.”
“Why not?”
“Because they are uneducated barbarians. Yazidis have little or no contact with outsiders. Marrying a non-Yazidi is punishable by death.”
“Are Assyrians allowed to marry outsiders?”
Ashur glanced up from the rifle. “You think you can marry my aunt?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Of course not. You only wish to use and discard her.”
Hud bristled at the charge. He had no ill intentions toward Layah, despite the fact that she’d kidnapped him. If anyone was getting mistreated around here, it was Hud.