The Skirmish

The pick-up truck drove down the bumpy mud-path road filled with ups and downs, and protruding stones and debris. The morning sun rays heated up the dusty path. Three men were in the vehicle. Two sat in the front seat, while the third had propped himself up in the rear cargo bed of the pick-up truck. Their faces were wrapped in a dark coloured cloth. The third man adjusted the cloth to cover the whole of his face. He shut his eyes and tried to get some sleep, knowing that it would be a futile attempt with the hot sun pouring over his face. A Kalashnikov, assault rifle sat on his lap.

Beside him,a pile of Kalashnikovs and a few rocket launches lay on the metal floor. The latest arms to pour in all the way from Libya. All for their holy cause. The man’s finger tightened over his rifle at such a thought. He was not Pakistani, but he was here, in Pakistan, just like he had traveled to Afghanistan, Iraq and even Syria. He would travel the world ten times over, if Allah allowed him to bring down his will to earth. He would be the hand and helper of Allah and do his will.

The pick-up came to a stop. They must have reached. He heard his comrade call out to him. He pulled himself up and the cloth slid from his face. A brown grizzly beard over a dark sun-tanned brown skin revealed itself. He smiled at this friend, as he strapped the cloth around his face. He sprang out of the pick-up.

Now, his full attire could be seen. He wore a light coloured kurta, and his pajamas were baggy. He stretched out his hand and pulled a Kalashnikov towards him. After all these years, he felt naked without a weapon. Men were approaching the vehicle similarly dressed like him, they wanted the arms to join in with their Jihad.

The man walked forward, he stared at the sun, he definitely wanted some sleep. Tonight would be a busy night.

He heard the rumbling of an engine far off. A vehicle was coming. He wondered who would be coming at this time, perhaps more comrades of Allah’s cause. He continued walking to the hut.

Maybe, if he had not been so sleepy he would have been more alert, but when the military vehicle appeared and poured out bullets on them, he didn’t have a chance. Bullets ripped through his body and he collapsed to the ground. Suddenly, darkness was pushing itself into his mind. He fought against it knowing if he went there, he would not come back. His gun, he needed to fire that once, kill one of these infidels before he left this world. His hand crawled out to the gun, but his fingers did not reach as death took him.