Operation: Dard and Devotion

10 | Shocked & Startled

Footsteps suddenly echoed down the hall loudly and I quickly stepped in between the pews to not seem as though I was suspiciously eavesdropping behind a column, even though I was.

Ahsan's head shot up as he heard my abaya swishing around me and then cautiously put away his water bottle so he would not get caught doing a good deed.

Faizan, Zaakhir, and a few other covered men came out from within the dark column shadows.

"Bring them in!" Faizan shouted to someone who was apparently at the church entrance. A covered man led the way for the nine frightened children as they submissively stepped straight into their doom.

I was relieved to see that they were not hurt. However, they looked frail and famished, and I hated that there was nothing I could do about it.

"Ahsan," Faizan began as the latter stood up, shoving the water bottle in the lower side pocket of his black cargo pants. "Sort them all. And I mean, all."

Ahsan nodded, resuming his evil glare. "Boys under the age of ten, stand over here," he ordered in Arabic. "Girls under the age of ten, stand here," he demanded as he pointed to his left.

He continued until every boy, girl, man and woman were placed within their age category, having intervals of ten years per group. The few bodies that were lifeless remained on the floor.

I stood awkwardly in the center of the church; the separated groups with Ahsan in front of me, while Faizan, Zaakhir and the other men stood not far behind me.

When everyone, even Father Mikhail, had lined up in their respective groups, Ahsan did a count-off for each age category. He abruptly spun around to face me and I nearly stumbled backwards as he stared at me with such hatred that I was not used to seeing.

"Females between the ages of eleven and twenty-one, over there," he said, flicking his chin to the area behind him.

"What?" I asked him meekly so that only he could hear.

"Do you think you need special treatment?" He snapped. "Go!"

Stunned at his sudden change in behavior, I obeyed, slowly walking towards my age group where a handful of feeble girls were already standing.

Then, the sound of an engine roared in the courtyard just outside the church entrance and everyone turned to see who had just arrived.

A group of men, all of whom had uncovered faces, strode inside and inspected the premises, settling their eyes on the separated groups. Directly behind them, a dozen women walked into the church and I instantly felt bad for them as they, too, were going to meet whatever fate the rest of us were to face.

Although I had no idea what these arranged groups were for, I was positive it was not for anything good.

The women, seemingly in their thirties, all wore niqabs and had their veils flipped over their heads. Surprisingly, none of the women look the least bit scared. On the contrary, they looked fairly content.

That's odd...

One woman, who seemed to be the leader of the other females, walked slowly into the church, letting the noon light touch her face as if the sun was to appreciate her presence.

Judging from the few silver strands that escaped from within her headscarf, I assumed she was at least in her forties. With footfalls that overlap one another, her progress was slow and halting as she made her way towards the groups. I shift my feet to the side uneasily as she stared us all down. The horrid scent of hookah and stale cigarettes waft through the air with every step, and then her face tilted up alarmingly; her tanned features were more heavily lined than a walnut.