You Can Run

Insight

Esmaael was the first one to reach the scene of chaos. Abru, Dema, and Pierre arrived shortly after, horrified as they watched the mill that Abru had passed almost an hour ago, now engulfed in flames. Abru stepped back, panting, as she heard screams in the distance.

What had she gotten herself into?

She looked over at Dema, who had silent streaming down her face. Dema turned towards her, with her shoulders pushed back.

"We must go," she cleared her throat, grabbing Abru's wrist. "There will be injured who need our help." "And Esmaael," Dema turned to face him.

Esmaael looked back at her.

"Try not to die, would you?"

Esmaael smirked. "In Sha Allah."

Abru looked at both of them. How could they stand to be so nonchalant, as though this was nothing more than an overturned cow that needed help or a wall that needed fixing?

"What's an inshala?" Pierre asked, his foreign accent completely butchering the auspicious word.

"I'll explain later," Esmaael answered, leading Pierre away.

"Come on," Dema pulled Abru forward, and they ran past the smouldering mill.

The first place they reached was the apothecary. An old nurse stood there with a rusty axe, a determined look on her face. She looked at Abru and Dema.

"There's a girl and a man inside. Be careful, the girl has a contagious disease. Grab a cloth before you get those two to safety." the nurse instructed.

Dema nodded, running in. But Abru stood back.

"And what about you? Won't you come with us to safety?" She asked, concerned for the frail old lady.

"I'll hold down the fort here. The apothecary needs to be protected. Once the djinn have finished their raids, there will be many who need to be helped."

"But—"

"Child, just go!"

Abru was taken aback at her determination. She ran into the cottage, grabbing a cloth to cover her face from a hook beside the door. Dema was helping the little girl, who coughed into her elbow. Abru made her way toward the limping man, who denied her help with a wave of his hand.

"I'm going to join the others," he grunted, "I'm going to fight."

"You're injured," Abru pointed out. "You could die out there."

The man smiled at her. A sad smile. "What a wonderful way to return to the All-Knowing then,"

Abru grabbed the man forcefully. "No," she shook her head. "I can't let you."

"You're not from here,'' the man reminded her, "How do you expect to understand?"

Abru stopped. How would she understand? How could she, when she'd grown sheltered in a mansion all her life, not even stepping into the courtyard without her father to escort her? She claimed to be different from all the noblewomen of her state, but was she? Could she understand the craze behind fighting for freedom? For the opportunity of a better life?

"You're right," she whispered. "I don't understand. But right now, what's more important is that you heal and come into your full strength. The others have no use for a limping man, who will fall over his own sword. You will just get in their way."

The man seemed to consider this. "But then," he raised "I wouldn't be helping at all."

There was a bang and the sound of a man screaming outside. They were running out of time."You'd be helping by not getting in the way," Abru argued, not even believing her own self. She looked around the room. Dema and the girl had left. Now it was just Abru and the man.

The door banged open.