Nisi Fallor

James

As the moonlight pours inside the room becomes visible for the first time. The walls and floor are unpainted concrete. As my eyes become accustomed to the light I see I am lying naked on newspaper, the door faces me mockingly. My head hurts as I attempt to recall the past few hours. How long had it been? As I get to my feet I take a step off the newspaper. The shooting cold through my foot makes my body tell me to sit back down. I persevere and head towards the door. I look though the window and take in the view. the moonlight bounces off the ocean of sand. The cold breeze hits my face and I suddenly feel alert. Where are my captors? They can’t have left me here alone. But I see no way of getting out; the metal door is locked. I lean back onto the wall and slide down onto the newspaper. I attempt to wipe the blood from my nose, but as soon as I touch it the pain persuades me to stop. I debate an attempt to look for an escape, but I fear the defeat may be too much. No I will wait.

As I come too I see the sun blasting through the window of my cell. The throbbing pain in my temples begins to make me angry. The view of the cell is much more visible now, the room is warm. I get to my feet and look out the window. The desert has waves of heat rising off it. I see shapes appear then disappear in the distance, brief hope that it may be my rescue. You fool your mind is at breaking point; the erratic mirages of the desert toy with my emotions. I turn away from the traitorous desert and sit back onto the now refreshingly cool newspaper. I lie on my back and wait. The situation is out of my hands. Will I survive this? With nothing but my thoughts to keep me company my desires gnaw away at my mind. The undying thirst gives birth to the thought if my body is beyond drinking water, what options do I have now? Am I dead? Perhaps my body is dead but my mind hasn’t caught on yet. I force myself to think of cricket.

Suddenly I hear an engine in the distance. The noise becomes louder and louder. I rush to the window and see the jeep speeding through the desert towards me. The engine cuts and four men jump out. The tallest of the men appears to be in control. he is dressed in jeans, a black shirt, and has a wild black beard and dark deep-set eyes, he shouts at one of the other men but they are too far to me to hear properly. As the men approach the door I lose sight as they walk past my window. I hear a lady scream and a loud gunshot, shortly followed by another. My heart races. Oh you fool why did you assume your room was the only one. Maybe I am one of hundreds. My view of the desert tricked me to believe in my isolation. You traitorous desert! I hear the men talking in Arabic, of which I recognise but understand almost none. I feel a lack of control of what’s about to happen. I decide if I go out fighting my fear won’t be able to consume me. I will go out in battle. I hear the door open and the tallest of the men points an assault riffle through the door. I grab the rifle from the side and feel the man twist it out of my grasp and hit me with the butt. A flash of light between my eyes and I feel myself land flat on my back on the ground. I hear malicious laughter and feel cold metal on my cheek and wait for the bang.

I daren’t open my eyes. My grip on reality from the hit is fading, however my curiosity is raised at the dialogue between the men. After a few seconds I feel the metal lift from my cheek and then almost total silence. The engine outside bursts into life and I hear the noise fade. I know I am in a room, but I don’t know why I am here; I vaguely remember I am on holiday. I suddenly realise where I am. My mind works erratically as I attempt to work my way back from the concussion. Why am I still alive? I would be happy if I wasn’t in so much pain, the concussion is amplified by my dehydration. My arms drag me to the open door and fall out onto the sand outside. The strength of the sun is apparent instantly. I feel the burning of the sand on my hands. As I stumble to my feet and turn to look back on my prison I see there are five rooms; they are almost identical and clearly purpose built as prisons. I stumble away from the cells, not having the strength or will to find out more about the structure. If my mind was working I know that I had no way of survival, but I need to try. The bastards wished me to have a slow death. My mouth has no moisture inside it. My flesh is burning. I force my legs to move one after another, but barely after a few meters I fall flat on my face. There is sand in my mouth and nose but I haven’t the energy to move. I feel myself falling asleep. I know I wont wake up. my emotions lessen and fade away. I find myself at peace.

------------------------------------------

Amir

“No it must be you!”

“Why?” I reply even though I know the answer

“Because your father said so!”

I pray to god that what I am doing is just; I have been told that I should forgive, killing in the name of Allah can’t be done lightly, but my father must be obeyed.

The vibrations from the engine help cover up how much I am shaking, I know we are mere minutes away.

I look out at the endless desert. The heat waves form images in the distance. as the car bursts over a large sand dune, a group of buildings appear in the distance. I can feel my heart through my chest. I take a deep breath and accept the rifle handed to me. As the car parks about twenty meters away from the closest building everyone gets out.

“Which cell is she in?” I ask Jaleel

“The second one.”

As I walk past the closest cell the others trail behind me. The rifle feels heavy in my hands. As I walk past the first cell the prisoner within stares at me with hatred. He knows his fate. I walk to the door of the second cell and take the key out of my pocket. As I turn the key I see sweat drop from my palms. The door opens and I point the gun at the small woman the far side of the cell; she is dressed in a white robe and has a scar from her left eye down to her neck. I had seen the picture of this woman from hours before. She looks confused and I kneel down and take a picture out my back pocket.

“Tell me is this the man you sold the girl to?”

The woman doesn’t move.

“Nod and all this will be over.”

The woman nods and I put the picture back into my pocket. I aim the rifle and fire it into her heart, and then I place the rifle to her head and take a second shot.

As I turn I see the others waiting outside, Jaleel gives me a nod and I walk out. As we walk to the first cell I see there is blood on my jeans. I wipe the sweat off my brow; the heat is unusually strong today.

As we approach the door to the cell I stop to catch my breath. I fight the fear back and unlock the door. As the door opens I stick the rifle into my shoulder and walk through ready to shoot. Instantly the man jumps on me; but he is weak and I throw him off and hit him with the butt of the rifle. The man lies still, and I put the gun to his head to finish him off.

“Leave him alive, the sun will kill the child rapist,” Jaleel says behind me.

“I will not leave him just to be cruel,” I reply

“Maybe he will repent in his last minutes.”

A laugh slips out my lips; a man so evil must have no relationship with god. As I turn I walk out the door and we all jump back into the car. I feel my adrenalin throughout my body and Jaleel pats me on the back.

------------------------------------------
James

“Have you seen this girl?”

The woman shakes her head as she looks at the photo. I feel foolish that I am now just asking every person on the street; my skill means nothing without a lead. My cover as a tourist won't last long at this rate either.

I head back to the hotel. The street is busy as the days market is closing, and I feel so tired. I scan the faces of everyone as I pass, the reactions to my blond hair and blue eyes are less extreme than they used to be in this part of the world, but I still am often treated like I’m possibly from another planet.

As I enter the hotel I smile at the woman at reception, she scowls back at me. I head up the stairs and into my little room, which is barely larger than my bed, and I lie on it whilst staring up at the fan. Too many dead ends. How can I tell a parent that their child is lost for good? I open up the folder at the end of my bed and begin to go through it. I see an address I scribbled down when a friendly heroin addict suggested to me for the child sex trade.

I look out the window at the setting sun. The town is still busy despite the darkness, its amazing how late children are out on the street. I leave the hotel and head to my rental car. I need to keep working, I can’t give up, and the address may lead to something. Anything.

------------------------------------------
Jaleel

As I enter the door to the library I see the minister the other side of a large desk.

“This man… he bought the girl from her?” The minister looks with disgust at the picture I put in front of him.

“Yes he was found with her in his car.”

“Then he must be killed, Jaleel.”

“Yes, Minister.”

“Make sure my son does it. Interrogate the woman, to ensure it was this man that bought the girl.”

“Yes, Minister.”

------------------------------------------
James

Just as the world comes back into focus from the adrenaline, I find myself looking at an 8 year old girl in a cage. I feel no remorse for the two dead men in the room. The poor child is not the girl I’ve been looking for, the girl is Iranian. I open the unlocked cage, and see the girl properly, shaking in the fetal position. I go to pick her up and she tries to fight me, but is so weak I barely feel her attacks. A rush of anger towards the men who would do this to a girl breaks my concentration. I quickly remember that the gunshots will attract attention, and that I must make it back to my car as quickly as possible.

As I run out the door with the girl in my arms there are people staring at me in the street. I put the girl in the back of the car, and begin to drive, there are few cars around as I drive through the city, but there are still people on the street, so I drive slowly. If I take the poor girl to a police station she will be looked after. I will have a hard time explaining the situation.

As I’m making my way down a street I have to stop as there are people all over the road ahead. As I slow I see a group of local boys coming over to the car.

“American?”

I don’t reply, but I see one looking in the back of the car before shouting out something in Arabic, he then runs and shouts to a man who runs into a nearby house. I put the car into reverse but there’s cars behind me. The man runs out with three others and I find myself stuck. I left the gun at the house. I had no more bullets for it, but it may have still been useful now.

“Out!”

The man shouting has a metal pipe in his left hand. outnumbered and unarmed I do as he says; if they get the police it will be fine.

As I’m standing there one of the men puts a sack over my head and kicks me on the back of my knee so I fall over. My hands are then tied. About a minute later I feel two hands under my arms and I feel my nose break as I’m thrown head first into what feels like the back of a van. Blood floods the sack. everything will be ok. when I speak to the authorities I can explain. I just have to wait.