The Truest Soldier-Islamic Life Story

Epilogue

Zaen never thought this was how he was going to meet Asima's family. He looked over at CC. He probably didn't either. Or maybe CC was taught, at some point in his career, he'd be doing this sort of thing.

Either way, the two were in a taxi, on their way to Asima's house, their faces grim. There was a folded up US flag stitched with Asima's initials on Zaen's lap, and a framed photograph of Asima in CC's hands. Both were early tokens of the military's condolences; the rest were to come in the form of her belongings and a letter of gratitude that included pay for her too few months of service.

CC's gaze had never left Asima's smiling, but still, face. She was wearing a black hijab under her army helmet and her face showed an innocence not even death could take from her.

"You remember," he said, making Zaen glanced his way. CC didn't look up, or say Asima's name. "When she pretended she was going to die?" Zaen slouched in his seat, eyeing the taxi's roof, the memory coming instantly into his mind.

It was one of the rare, but pleasant moments where CC, Zaen, Mikey and Asima were out together, patrolling. Asima was generally far more well liked by the townspeople than the others so CC made it a point to have her out on most patrols.

They had stopped to rest from the heat of the sun when Asima had jumped, colliding into CC. The three men looked at her questioningly.

"I felt something pinch my back," she said, turning around for them to look. "Is there anything there?"

"Oh, fuck, do we shoot it?" was Mikey's answer.

"Zaen! CC! What's on my back?" Asima had cried out.

"Don't shoot it. You'll hurt Asima," CC said. Asima turned her head, trying to look at what they were talking about, when CC held her head in place. "Don't move, Asima. Zaen, use your gun to brush it off."

Asima had felt the tip of Zaen's gun rub against her lower back. She quickly glanced over at the ground to see a small black scorpion wriggling upside down.

Mikey once more held his gun to it. "Do we shoot it now?"

CC lifted his boot and squished the tiny insect. Asima cringed at the sight. CC turned to face her.

"Did it sting you?" Asima shrugged. Concerned, his hand went to lift the loose end of her uniform to check if she had been stung when Asima slapped it away, scowling.

"I'll have a medic check it out," she said, stalking off to base.

"You're lucky as hell she likes you," Mikey said, watching her go as he turned back to face CC. "Or else she would've beat the shit out of you for touching her." CC didn't know whether or not it was a compliment; Zaen's smug look wasn't helping him either.

As the minutes wore on with no sight of Asima's return, worry began to set in. They knew the smaller the scorpion was, the more lethal its poison. When Asima did return, her face was expressionless. Zaen and CC shared a worried glance.

"Was it that bad?" Zaen asked. Asima took a deep breath.

"Lisa couldn't do anything about it. She said it stung me in some sort of vein or whatever," she muttered lowering her gaze. "She said I could be lucky, my blood could filter it out or it could paralyze my legs or," she paused. "Or it could kill me." Zaen's eyes widened.

"We got to get you out of here!" He nearly shouted. "Maybe back to the city or back to the US." CC shook his head.

"They won't allow her to go back just for a scorpion sting. I could try, but," he stopped himself. "Damn it." Asima watched their mood dampen; even Mikey looked forlorn at the news.