Ground Zero(43)

Reshmina ran up the steps of her village, taking them two at a time. She didn’t see any American soldiers, or any Taliban. Not yet. Was she in time?

Reshmina burst through the front door of her house. “Mor! Baba!” she cried. Two Afghan men with rifles were sitting just inside the door, and Reshmina jumped back. Who were they? Why were they here?

Marzia and Mor came in from the women’s room.

“Reshmina, it’s all right!” Marzia told her. “The village sent them to guard us and the American.”

So Taz was still here! That meant Baba wasn’t back from the ANA base yet.

“Where have you been, Reshmina?” Mor demanded. “Where did you get those scratches? Those bruises? You’re filthy!”

“The Taliban are coming!” Reshmina cried. “They know the American is here! Pasoon told them!”

The guards jumped to their feet, their faces a mix of shock and horror.

Anaa came into the front room with Zahir in her arms. She had heard everything. “Go and warn the others in the village,” she told the guards. “Tell them they must get to safety.”

“Where?” one of the men said. “What place is safe?”

Reshmina grabbed her mother’s arm. “Mor, let’s take everything we can and leave the village. Let’s go to Kabul.”

“Go to Kabul?” Mor said. “You foolish girl. That must be three hundred kilometers! It would take us days to walk there, and days to come back!”

“I mean go and never come back,” Reshmina said. She was tired of standing still. She wasn’t sure the capital city was the right place to go, but it had to be better than their village. “We’ll live in Kabul forever.”

Mor looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Without land to farm? Without a place to live? Nonsense.”

“Anaa still has family there, don’t you?” Reshmina asked her grandmother. “There must be someone. A nephew. A distant cousin.”

“Child—” Anaa said in that infuriating tone adults used when they were going to dismiss your idea out of hand.

Anger flared in Reshmina. It was just like her mother to say no, but Anaa too? Why couldn’t they leave this village and the Taliban behind and never come back? Move forward, even if it was hard?

“Now is not the time, Mina-jan,” Anaa told her. “We need a more immediate solution. Many people are in danger.”

Reshmina huffed, but her grandmother was right. Running away wouldn’t save the rest of the village. But where could you hide an entire village?

Hide.

Reshmina remembered playing hide-and-seek with Pasoon when they were young, and suddenly she had the answer.

“The caves!” Reshmina said. “The caves beneath the village! We can hide there!”

“Stay and watch the American,” one of the guards told the other. “I’ll go tell the others.”

The guard hurried off. Mor and Marzia began gathering things to take with them, and Reshmina followed Anaa and Zahir into the women’s room.

Taz still lay on the mat, sleeping. Reshmina was relieved to see him alive. But he wouldn’t be for very long if they didn’t move. None of them would be.

Reshmina dropped to her knees next to Taz. Anaa had wrapped wet cloths around his wounds, but fresh blood had already soaked through some of the bandages. Anaa had also wiped away the black marks on his face from the explosion, but the skin around his eyes was still bright red and raw.

“Taz,” she said. “Taz, wake up. We have to go. The Taliban are coming.”

Taz instantly jerked awake. “What? Where? Are they here?”

“No, not yet. But they will be soon. I’m sorry, but we must move.”

“Reshmina,” Taz said, anguish in his voice as he blinked, “I still can’t see!”

“I will lead you,” Reshmina told him. “Follow my voice, like before.”

Pakow. Pakow.

They heard shots in the distance. Reshmina knew what that meant.

The Taliban were almost here.

The guard rushed in from the other room. “We have to go!” he cried. The guard helped Taz to his feet. Reshmina frowned. How were they going to hide Taz until they got him into the caves?

Anaa was one step ahead of her. She came into the room with an old blue burqa, the kind of garment women had been forced to wear outside during the rule of the Taliban. It was a robe that covered every inch of a woman’s body, from head to foot, with a small mesh window to see out of. Some women still wore them by choice, but not Reshmina’s mother or grandmother.

“Put this on him, quickly,” Anaa said.

The guard helped Taz into the burqa. It hid his head and his shape, but the material only came down to his ankles. Reshmina just had to hope the Taliban wouldn’t notice that the “woman” under this burqa was wearing American army boots.

“Come,” Reshmina said. “We must hurry.” The guard took Taz’s elbow and led him to the front room and out the door. Reshmina, Marzia, and Anaa followed, along with Mor, who carried Zahir.

The steps down through the village were already crowded with people who’d been warned by the other guard. They carried children, chickens, bundles of clothing, and treasured possessions. Anything of value they could take with them.