Susan Cliff - Navy Seal Rescue

They settled into a steady rhythm. He pushed as hard as he dared, and they pushed themselves harder. No one fell down the hill or collapsed in exhaustion. Layah, in particular, impressed him with her stamina. She had a body like a centerfold, not an athlete, so he hadn’t expected her to keep up.

About an hour before sunset, he spotted a possible campsite. It was a little early, and they hadn’t yet reached the edge of the snowcap, but they were close. He knew they were tired, because he was tired. The excited chatter he’d heard all afternoon had died down.

He paused on a flat stretch of land and studied the area. There was a trickle of water running down the side of the cliff nearby. It was a good place to stay, sheltered from the wind on three sides.

“We can stop here for the night,” he said to Layah.

She smiled her relief. “Bless you.”

He took off his pack and sat with his back against the rock, muscles aching. He was beat. She pressed a handful of dates into his palm. Although he was ravenous, he chewed slowly, savoring each bite. The others rested with them, drinking and eating their own snacks. The setting sun glowed on the horizon.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Layah murmured.

Before today, he’d have said Iraq was the ugliest place on earth. But this stretch of land was a rich tapestry of colors, dancing with light. He turned his gaze to her face and found more beauty there. “We have to set up the tents.”

“My cousins will do it.” She gave the order with a wave of her hand.

Aram and Yusef fumbled with three tents, two medium-sized and one small. They were clearly out of their element, but Hud left them to it. Layah had a tiny stove to boil water for a meal of dried meat and couscous. It was a time-consuming process. They ate in batches, refilling their water bottles from the stream. When they were finished, it was almost dark, and the temperature had dropped considerably.

Hud knew at a glance that there wasn’t enough space for everyone. There was a tent for women and a tent for men, both full. Hud, Ashur and Layah were left with the smaller tent. “This was supposed to be for the Turks,” Layah said.

“I’ll take it,” Hud said.

“You can’t. The women’s tent has no space because of Hanna and Yelda. Ashur and I have nowhere else to sleep.”

“Ashur can sleep with your cousins.”

“The men are taking turns keeping watch.”

“So? He can take a turn.”

Ashur was pleased with this arrangement, which gave him man status and access to the Kalashnikovs.

“I don’t want him handling weapons,” Layah said.

“I’ll give him a safety lesson tomorrow,” Hud said. He didn’t trust Ashur not to shoot him accidentally. Or even on purpose.

“Very well,” she said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Good night.”

Ashur joined the other men in the tent while Yusef came outside for first watch. He narrowed his eyes at Hud in warning, but said nothing.

“My cousins don’t approve of us sleeping together,” Layah said.

“Your cousins aren’t in charge.”

She didn’t disagree. Hud suspected she had her own reasons for agreeing to share his space. Maybe she wanted to keep tabs on him.

Hud crawled into the two-man tent after Layah. He didn’t care about her overprotective family members or her martyred-widow reputation. He just wanted peace and quiet. She settled in next to him, stiff as a board.

Two minutes later, he was asleep.

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