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Rated: GC · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1332089
Contest entry, 3 prompts a follow up to The Coldness of Revenge
Vengeance


Yusif didn’t know for how long he had walked since kissing Farah goodbye. It could have been hours; in his present mental state, it could have even been days. His mind was nothing but a dark void of emptiness since his departure. Farah had begged him to come to bed and rest, but he could not think of resting, not then and not now. The time for rest would come in time, but not now.

This morning, his whole being had been filled with sorrow. So full of sorrow and rage that he almost feared he would explode. Later, all he could think of was...

Yes! Exploding would be good! Exploding would be grand! Exploding would bring about not only a release from his pain and sorrow, it would also serve a purpose! They would pay! He would see to that! They would pay and at the same time he would be released from this overpowering pain.

He cared nothing for the foolish promises of virgins in the hereafter. His Farah was all he had ever needed. He cared not that Saddam would be avenged. Saddam was as evil and full of poison as the worst demon in hell. He had no feelings of joy that Allah would be pleased. Allah had not shown any mercy for his family, as far as he was concerned...Allah be damned! All that mattered now, was that someone would pay..., someone would pay dearly for the loss that tortured his soul.

In the beginning, the news that the Americans were set to invade Iraq had brought a certain amount of joy and hope. Perhaps his country would finally be free! Free of evil and corruption. His children would be free to go to school and maybe, some day go to university. All of Yusif’s friends and family gathered for a quiet, but joyful celebration at the news.

“Soon, the evil dictator would be held accountable for his many misdeeds!” They whispered to each other with happiness. “Soon, the Americans would put the devil to the sword and Iraq would be free! Their beloved country would grow, her people would prosper!”

Then, Saddam had issued his refusal to the Americans. He had invited them to invade, swore that the all mighty Iraq Army would not only hold, but put the Americans to rout. Not only was Saddam truly evil, he was truly and completely mad! Not even the simplest Iraqi child believed that Saddam’s pitiful exclamations would come true.

The arrogant dictator insisted his army hold their ground, but the American bombs kept pounding, pounding, growing ever closer to the city. The sound of bombs and artillery; at first distant, then ever closer. Some worried that the city might face complete destruction, but others insisted that Saddam would soon see the folly of continuing this madness. At the very least, some other leading general or commander would realize the futility and bring the evil one down from within.

Then the sounds of the war were no longer in the distance, but very close. The bombs began to fall on the city itself. Yusif had warned Farah to keep herself and the children inside, surely the Americans wouldn’t bomb homes and neighborhoods.

“Keep the little ones close today.” Yusif quietly told her, as he readied himself to go to work. “This madness will surely end soon, the American forces are very close now.”

When Yusif had arrived home that evening, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Instead of their apartment building, all he saw was a misshapen pile of smoldering rubble. A smell reminiscent of charred meat filled the air.

Terror wracking his mind, Yusif screamed mindlessly as he began tearing into the destroyed building.

“Farah!” He had screamed over and over. “Farah! Maryam! Issam! Oh no! Please, blessed Allah, NOOO!”

Ripping and tearing through the mangled mess with his bare hands, Yusif had called for help from passersby. Soon a large party of men and women, their own families also lost in the destruction, began tearing into the rubble alongside of him.

After what seemed an eternity, someone shouted that they had found a body. Soon, more crushed and burned bodies were uncovered, but also some bruised and injured survivors were found.

It was nearly midnight before Yusif found Farah, nearby, his daughter Maryam. Both were unconscious, but alive. Maryam had a large gash to her head and even though Farah soon regained consciousness, Maryam did not.

It was nearly dawn before the small body of their son, Issam, was found. The small baby looked at first as if he was only sleeping, but soon it was apparent that there was no life left in his body.

Yusif tried to remain calm, though his heart took a devastating blow. Together, he and Farah had huddled over their daughter for two days until at last her small frame let out its last shudder of breath and she too was gone to meet Allah. This second blow to his heart was too much for Yusif to bear, he asked Farah to ready their children for burial. As soon as they were delivered to the morgue, he kissed her softly and told her to return to her family outside the city. Farah had cried and wanted to argue, but the look in his eyes and the set of his face, compelled her to silence.

Yusif knew where some of Saddam's followers were hiding and he immediately went to them. “I want revenge!” He said. “The American soldiers must pay!” The hiding clerics assured him that they were prepared to give him just what he wanted.

After the satchels were firmly bound to his body, one of the hidden ones directed him to the place he would go.

“As soon as you are close enough to see the blue in the eyes of the devils.” He was told. “Pull this wire, here, in the front of the satchel. Your family will be avenged and you will not only see your beloved children again, but you will be ever after in the warmth of Allah’s embrace.”

Yusif cared not for Allah’s embrace, nor did he believe that he would be with his children again. He was a pragmatic man, he did not believe in the nonsense of Allah and the seventy virgins, of an everlasting heaven where he would be forever more. He believed that he would be dead, as were his beautiful children. That was acceptable to him, this unrelenting pain would be out of his mind, his torture would be ended, but there would be dead Americans as well.

As he trudged along, his mind was now completely numb. He didn’t see the American patrol, he didn’t hear their shouts, he didn’t see the tracers of their bullets. As the bullets struck his body, he never tried to reach the trigger wire.

The last volley of machine gun fire detonated the explosives strapped to the Iraqi’s body. Tentatively, the American Army Seargent approached what was left of the person lying in the road.

“Jesus Christ!” The Seargent muttered as the vaporous mist circled above the twisted corpse like a feeding wild animal. “I hope all of these damn Iraqis aren’t as fucking nuts as this one, or we are going to be in for a long haul!”
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