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After The Funeral by Vincent Luhar
After The Funeral by Vincent Luhar
Two men stood next to a snowy mound. Scott who was still breathing
heavily after digging the hole didn't answer. Irfan moved over and
placed his hand on his shoulder. Scott?'
He deserved a proper burial. His soul will never get peace in the
afterlife otherwise,' snapped Irfan.
Proper burial my arse,' snorted Scott, and besides who's going to know
anyway?' Scott spread his arms out in a wide arc. He stared at Irfan.
We should have left him where he fell, stupid bastard.'
Scott shook his head and started walking back to the icy cave.
Scott stopped and looked around. The view was postcard perfect, snow
laden mountains rose high as far as the eye could see. To the east was
a valley with a handful of trees holding onto a few sparse leaves.
Well he hasn't done too badly has he? He's got the best view of the
Himalayas. Most people would die for it,' he said and spat on the snow.
Come on, the cold is seeping through my gloves.'
But Irfan remained unmoved and shrugged his shoulders. Well I'm going
to say a few words.'
Keep it short, I'm freezing.' Scott stayed where he was and stamped his
feet to get the circulation going.
Fresh snow began falling on the grave. Irfan got down to his knees and
placed his hand on the mound. Now that he was down here nothing came to
his mind. He didn't look up, not wanting to see the sullen look on
Scott's face. He sighed inwardly and finally whispered, may Allah keep
you safe my friend.' It sounded pathetic even to him. Why was he making
such a big deal about it?
The cave was partially hidden in the face of the mountainside. A piece
of flimsy parachute canvas covered the entrance. It was flapping wildly
against the wind. Scott pushed the canvas aside and entered. He held it
open for Irfan who arrived a few minutes later.
Thanks,' said Irfan. He placed a stone onto the canvas holding it in
place. They made their way to a small fire and sat opposite each other.
Neither men, it seemed had anything more to say.
We're gonna need more, probably,' said Scott without looking up.
Irfan shrugged. I'll get some before the blizzard hits us.'
He grabbed the axe and reluctantly forced himself back outside into the
cold. The snow was falling more heavily now with the wind blowing it
right into his face, hard. Irfan screwed up his eyes and looked around.
He could hardly see beyond a few feet in front of him. He took out a
length of rope from his parka coat pocket and tied one end to his belt
and the other to a stone near the cave entrance.
The cold began seeping into his body as he ploughed ahead, feeding out
the line behind him. The rope cut into his gloved hand giving him the
reassurance of getting back home safely. His only lifeline, when he
thought about it. Irfan reached the last few remaining trees after
about twenty minutes of walking and stopped to catch his breath.
No time to lose, he thought and started to hack away at the stiff wet
branches. He could hardly feel his fingers after cutting for a few
minutes. Time stood still for him. He wasn't sure whether he had been
here five minutes or fifty, neither would have surprised him. Pausing,
he looked around at the white surroundings. It still amazed him that in
a matter of a few hours how the landscape could change from serene and
peaceful to a blizzard whiteout without any warning. God is Great, he
said silently and began cutting the tree again.
He gathered the sticks and wrapped them up in a small bundle. The knot
was loosely tied, his gloved fingers unable to perform the job
properly. Quickly he slung the sticks over his shoulder and turned
back. The falling snow blinded him. The cave was nowhere in sight.
Irfan felt panicked, his heart racing; his breathing quickened. But
then he remembered the rope and laughed. Idiot, he scolded and tugged
at the rope around his waist feeling relieved.
Scott was blowing gently on the dying fire. Irfan dumped the sticks and
sat down exhausted. It's a whiteout. Can't see a thing,' said Irfan
panting.
If you think you can do better then be my guest,' said Irfan, annoyed
and climbed into his sleeping bag. He took out his Koran and started to
read it. It was his only refuge from this misery.
Scott threw some of the dry sticks on the fire. The flames crackled and
danced. He went over to his sleeping bag and climbed in facing away
from the fire. I don't know what you see in that book,' he said after
a moment.
Well you wouldn't. You're not a man of faith,' replied Irfan not
looking up from his book.
Irfan stopped reading and silently counted backwards from ten. Finally
he spoke, and what would you know about God?'
What do you mean?' said Irfan, unsure of where this was going. He had
grown weary of these long talks that often ended in shouting across the
freezing cave.
The first mistake Adam makes and what does the Almighty do, take his
toys and run off leaving the poor man to fend for himself.'
Scott cut him off, Please, it's all the same bollocks.'
That's not true. Look if you took some time to pray and contemplate the
Great God Allah, you would realise that there are more things to life
then our immediate circumstances.'
Don't make me laugh. This is all there is. There is no heaven or hell.
There's only this---this crappy moment---this fucked up situation with
the two of us and no chance of rescue.'
Faith? Fuck that! What I need is a little more food, a little more
warmth and a plane ticket home.'
Irfan said nothing for a while. It was true. The longer they were out
here the slimmer the chances for rescue. Still he continued to pray
every day with the hope that God would save them. Whatever sins he had
committed up till now he felt he had more than repaid. Now it was time
for help to arrive; now it was time to go home and face the
consequences.
What the hell do you want me to do? I spent the last hour scouring the
mountainside. Blasted trees are impossible to cut in this storm.'
'Oh come on get real Irfan. It's the last thing we have left. We're
going to freeze to death otherwise.'
We have no choice.'
They didn't speak again for the rest of the night. Scott fell into a
fitful sleep soon after. Irfan however couldn't sleep. His thoughts
drifted to his friend buried out there in the snow. How long before he
himself was killed here? Or Scott. Neither he or Scott had wanted to
talk about what had happened, maybe God will forgive is, he thought.
Rescue seemed impossible everyday they were lost out in the wilderness.
He clutched the Holy book closer to his chest and finally fell asleep
listening to the wind howl outside.
When morning came the cave was filled with white light. Scott climbed
out of his sleeping bag and picked up his rifle. He turned and glared
at Irfan. The Koran was tucked into Irfan's chest as he slept. Scott
took a silent step towards him. Suddenly Irfan was awake, startled and
alert. His eyes fell on the looming form of Scott above him. Both
stared at each other, neither blinked. Irfan's hand silently slipped to
his pistol inside the sleeping bag. He undid the safety and gingerly
fingered the trigger.
Irfan nodded.
If I'm not back in an hour come and look for me.' Scott braced himself
and then launched himself out of the cave into the bitter cold.
The blizzard had passed leaving fresh snow in heaps everywhere. Scott
surveyed the area letting his eyes sweep over the landscape. His eyes
fell on the burial mound. He shook his head gently from side to side.
Then he turned to the sparse trees and headed out. If there was any
game, surely that was a good place to start.
Irfan looked up from his book as Scott entered several hours later
carrying a dead animal over his shoulder. It looked like a white fox or
small wolf. He dumped it next to the fire and then slumped down besides
it breathing hard.
Where on Earth did you get that?' said Irfan. Neither man had eaten
anything substantial in two days.
Tesco,' replied Scott, took out his hunting knife and began to sharpen
the blade.
What is it?'
No you idiot, what the hell is that creature?' He took his eyes off the
beast and finally looked at Scott. He noticed blood on his beard, like
it had been hastily wiped away.
Scott stopped skinning the animal, you're telling me you've never seen
a fox before.'
That's a fox?'
Scott shook his head and chuckled, it's not a cute little red fox you
get in fairy stories. This bastard's heavy and protected from the cold
by a layer of fat under this thick fur.'
Yes, but I never had the chance to perform the sacrifice myself. Always
my dad or one of my uncles did it.'
Irfan added a few more sticks to the fire. Scott started to skewer the
meat onto a stick and made a kebab. He handed this to Irfan, we'll be
eating like kings in a few minutes.'
Irfan held his kebab over the fire. He watched the meat juices dripping
and sizzling onto the open flames. Rotating the stick every few seconds
his thoughts drifted to the crash. The plane had banked too hard over
K2 in the Himalayas as they made their escape from Pakistan. The wing
had clipped a stone ridge on the mountainside and went into a spin.
They had fallen out of the sky for what seemed like an eternity. He
remembered screaming but hearing no sound erupt from his throat.
Michael, the pilot had been thrown against the windscreen when the plane
crashed. He had died instantly. The fireball had seared his body to the
seat. His burning body smelled somewhat like the kebab.
Scott had pushed Irfan to the back of the plane before it had crashed
and somehow both had sustained only minor injuries. They had been the
lucky ones. Abdul had hit his head and lay unconscious for days after.
He wasn't quite the same upon awakening.
The smell of cooked meat brought Irfan back from his reverie. He eyed
the charred meat chunks thinking about Michael. Suddenly his appetite
was lost.
I think it's ready,' said Scott. He took the skewer and gently pinched
the meat. He passed a hot chunk to Irfan and took one for himself.
Scott started munching away almost immediately. Irfan was holding his
piece but hadn't tasted it yet. Scott shifted his seat and looked up at
Irfan. He stopped chewing and swallowed.
Something wrong?'
Nothing.'
It's nothing really---I'm not that hungry.' He put the chunk down next
to the fire.
I know what halal means idiot. I've known you long enough. What I meant
was, why should it matter in our situation?'
Irfan didn't answer, his inner thoughts remained conflicted. They had
been starving for days now, and yet he still wasn't able to eat it.
How is eating this meat any different from all the other non-halal shit
that we have done as a crew?' snorted Scott and resumed eating.
That's different,' said Irfan, but even he knew this was bullshit.
Between them they had done a whole bunch of things definitely frowned
upon by society. It just doesn't feel right.'
Oh, I'm sorry maybe I should have been more thoughtful and said a
little prayer over the fox before I blew its brains out.'
Irfan stared into the fire. He was lost in his thoughts. Maybe I'm
being stupid,' he whispered.
Scott shook his head and grabbed the meat from the floor. For fuck's
sake, dear God and sunny Jesus please bless this animal so my friend
can eat it.'
What the fuck is wrong with you? You wouldn't eat it because it wasn't
blessed and now that I have said a prayer over it you are still
freaking out.'
Oh yeah, well why don't you tell me what the problem is?' He jabbed his
finger into Irfan's chest. Both men stared at each other. Irfan took a
step back after a few tense moments, his heart beating wildly, the
hunger and cold both forgotten.
I just hate it when you take the piss, just stop it,' he whispered.
Irfan turned and walked away to a colder part of the cave. He sat with
his back to the cave wall. Scott walked up to him after a moment.
Okay, I'm sorry. Look Irfan I know you're quite a religious guy. But
we're not in a normal situation. We have to do whatever it takes to
survive.'
Irfan didn't meet his gaze. Scott continued, unperturbed, come on, come
back to the fire. Please. You don't have to eat it straight away but at
least think about it.'
Irfan buried his head in his arms. After a few quiet moments where only
the soft drip of snow melt could be heard Scott walked back to the fire
and picked up his portion.
Later, contented Scott was snoring in his sleeping bag. Irfan silently
made his way to the diminishing fire and added some sticks to it. He
looked at Scott for movement and found he was sound asleep. He
cautiously picked up the chunk of cold charred meat. It felt heavy and
almost frozen. Scott was right, their situation was unique. God didn't
want him to die here in the Himalayas cold and alone, away from his
family. He took a tentative bite and started to chew the tough meat.
Scott prepared breakfast, fox meat kebabs. Once Irfan was finished Scott
handed him a chunk without saying a word. They ate in silence listening
to the crackle of the fire. Irfan reached for another piece of meat.
We need to ration it,' said Scott. Irfan nodded, they had been here a
while now with no other sign of human life. Not even a plane in the
sky. Rescue could be days or even weeks away. I'll bury the rest in
the snow. It'll act like a fridge.'
When Scott came back in the cave Irfan was counting his share of the
money. He made small stacks of the hundred dollar bills in front of him
arranged into a wall.
Scott sat down and began carving a fox bone into a spearhead. Both were
sat near the fire. The wind had picked up again and could be heard
whistling near the cave entrance. The canvas was flapping about.
Scott could feel his temper rising again, and was it Allah's will that
our plane crashed?'
Bollocks, Michael fucked up and couldn't control the plane and now he's
dead. And we've been stuck here and not seen any sign of human life.'
If the wing hadn't clipped the mountain ridge we would have made it to
Nepal and then onto China. Don't you believe Allah's saved us for a
reason? How many bullets did we dodge just to get out of there?'
'It must have been God's will too right? The angle of the slope must
have just been at the right degree for him to fall and crack his head
open on that rock which God had deliberately placed nearby,' said
Scott.
He should never have gone back to that cursed plane. It was his own
greed that killed him. Not God's will.'
Like I said we got lucky and he didn't. God has nothing to do with it.'
It wasn't luck---,'
Yeah yeah Allah's will. Blah blah blah. Okay I get it, can we stop
talking about it. I only asked if you thought we were going to be
rescued. I didn't need a fucking sermon.'
Well can you tell Him to hurry up and mark it already? I think I
deserve an A at least.'
Huh?'
What---course I do, I've spent the last three years working with you
haven't I?' said Irfan.
Ah what's the use of that cash? It won't do us any good anymore. We'll
never get to spend it.'
A few weeks later Scott picked at the last of the fox meat. He had been
surprised that they had made it last this long. He methodically went
through the remaining provisions. There were a handful of dried
biscuits, a few preserved dates and some stale Bombay mix.
After the robbery they had scrambled out of Pakistan in a hurry. This
food had been stashed by Micheal while he waited for them at the
airfield. He had been a big lover of all things Asian and had wanted to
take them back to his wife. He hadn't survived the plane crash but was
feeding them from the grave.
But it wouldn't be enough. Both men had been slowly getting weaker as
starvation crept in. If another animal didn't come around soon enough
neither would be strong enough to go out and hunt.
We need to get lucky again, thought Scott and went out. He surveyed the
area. The snow covered land was at once beautiful and deadly. There was
nothing of sustenance for a man to survive. He shook his head,
something must be done or neither one was going to live long enough to
be rescued. The authorities were surely looking for them; they had
gotten away with a huge quantity of American dollars. This money had
been a loan to the Pakistani government from America. Money that would
have eventually found its way into many corrupt politicians. Instead
they had formulated a daring raid and took it all. Scott's gaze turned
to Abduls grave. Stupid bastard, why did you go back to that plane?'
A few days later Irfan had slept poorly the previous night. Hunger had
kept him awake for most of it. He dreamt he saw his cousin Abdul. He
was weeping silently near a well. Irfan approached him and placed a
weary hand on his shoulder. Suddenly Abdul turned around. He had no
face. It had rotten away. Irfan woke with a start, heart racing,
confused as to where he was. He looked around; the cave was cold and
dark. His sleeping bag was drenched in sweat.
He gulped a few times trying to coat his dry throat in sticky saliva.
Reaching inside he picked up a wad of cash from his sleeping bag. It
too was soaked in his sweat. What good is this money if we can't spend
it on our loved ones?
He let out a snort and stuffed the money back in the sleeping bag. Scott
who was sat besides the small fire must have heard Irfan shuffle around
because he soon turned around. Morning, sleep well,' he said.
No, not really,' croaked Irfan, his throat still dry. The dream had
frightened him.
Scott walked over and handed him a steaming bowl. Irfan looked at the
broth, thinking it was a mirage or hallucination. He inhaled the meaty
fragrance and looked up in surprise.
What's this?' said Irfan as he inspected the bowl of thin gruel. It had
the consistency of gravy with small unrecognisable brown lumps.
See I told you Allah is gracious.' He began to slurp up the hot liquid.
It felt like the most delicious soup he had ever eaten.
Yeah, I'll believe it when he sends one of his angels in a great big
helicopter to pick us up from this dreadful mountain.'
Irfan scooped some of the meat into his mouth using his fingers and
swallowed hard. He had almost forgotten how to chew by now. The food
just slipped down his throat. He ate greedily.
This tastes better then that fox, what is it?' Finished, he licked the
metal bowl clean.
You really want to know, last time you kicked up such a fuss over the
halal business.'
Bollocks,' snorted Irfan and found himself laughing. Don't tell me you
get goats climbing mountains now.'
Yeah, there are such things as mountain goats. They're called Ibex and
we got lucky again.'
Irfan nodded. Scott took his metal bowl and refilled it. Irfan ate in
silence until he'd finished his second helping.
What do you mean?' said Scott scratching his beard. He had never kept a
beard before and this one was irritating him to no end.
Scott pushed a thin finger into Irfan's chest, you think I'm trying to
cheat you?' Irfan pushed his hand back weakly.
You ungrateful bastard! I bust my nuts out there in the blistering cold
trying to find us food to keep us alive. And you have got the bloody
nerve to accuse me of cheating you.'
I've stashed it okay. It's under a pile of snow that'll act like a
freezer. We got greedy and ate the fox too quickly. But using the meat
to make this soup will last us a while, I hope.'
I'm sorry. Okay.' He patted Scott warmly. It doesn't taste much like
goat.'
It's because it's not in a korma with a side dish of pilau rice and
some fresh Peshwari naan.'
Both men chuckled. The tension was broken. Scott started to walk away.
Scott?
Hmm?'
Scott nodded his head in appreciation and walked to his sleeping bag. He
climbed in and rested his head on his arm. It was much thinner now and
provided little cushioning. It's your turn to tend to house keeping,'
he said without looking up.
Irfan didn't reply. He made his way to the fire and dropped his bowl. He
observed the makeshift rig Scott had created using metal poles from the
aeroplane. It was just perfect to heat up broth, which Irfan assumed
Scott had used to make it.
Irfan wrapped his coat around his body tightly using the rope to hold in
the excess fabric and then began to dig up the ash. He scooped it up
and started to dump it on the small hard stools at the back of the
cave. It helped mask the strong smell of the urine. After learning the
hard way Scott had pretty much decided he was not going to try to
defecate outside. He had nearly got frostbite of his arse and couldn't
sleep on his back for days after.
Irfan went outside and dumped the stool and ash over the ridge. He
stared down into the abyss; it was a long way down. If I just jump now,
it would be over quickly, thought Irfan.
But then he shook that thought from his mind and turned to look over the
big SOS' letters they had put together using bits of the aeroplane and
parachute canvas. Snow had gathered on half of it and Irfan spent the
next hour or so clearing it up. His lack of stamina meant the job took
four times as long.
He pushed the last stone back in place so that it gave a full stop to
the SOS. Irfan smiled at a job well done. Recently he had very little
to smile about. Even counting the money everyday brought him no joy or
grounding' as he liked to call it. Now, even if the authorities caught
them and put them in jail he wouldn't even mind. All he cared about was
seeing his family once more. In jail at least they would have visiting
rights.
A chilly wind picked up around him but Irfan didn't return to the
comfort of the fire in the cave. It must be a test by God, he decided.
How much could he endure? Just when he was beginning to believe they
were going to starve to death God had provided goat meat, his favourite
kind of flesh. Scott had been right; he didn't have the stomach for
butchery. Better that Scott did all the bloody stuff away from the
cave.
It's nothing. I just wanted to see a view other than the dark cramped
cave walls.'
They both stood in silence. Come on, it'll be dark soon and the
temperature will drop suddenly. We can't risk being out then.' Together
they turned around and returned to the cave.
A few weeks later Irfan was lying in his sleeping bag in a semi-comatose
state, unthinking, unfeeling. Scott was crouched besides the fire,
stirring a bowl of thin gravy. He brought it to his lips, took a sip
and almost spat it out again. The flesh was slowly rotting away. He
could taste it now. He pinched some ash and sprinkled it into the gruel
and let it bubble a while longer. He took another tentative sip and
managed to keep it down. Their luck seemed to be running out. Hunting
every day had yielded nothing and the rest of Michael's food was also
gone.
He crawled over to where Irfan was bedded and pushed the bowl near him.
Eat,' he said.
Irfan remained unmoved. Scott shook him awake making him startled. He
looked at the thin weary face of Scott and then to the bowl. Quickly he
slurped up the watery soup without tasting. It went down in one big
gulp. He wiped his beard with the back of his hand and then licked it.
Irfan looked at the empty bowl and sighed, is there anymore?' Scott
shook his head.
Irfan lay back down on his back and stared at the cave ceiling.
Come on get up, keep to the routine, otherwise we will die here.' He
nudged Irfan constantly until he crawled out of the sleeping bag. Some
of the wads of cash fell out with him but he didn't bother pushing them
back in. He grabbed both bowls and went outside. Taking some snow in
his gloved hand he began to wipe away the bowl. It didn't really need
doing since both men usually licked every drop away leaving their
feeding bowls clean. But he did it to maintain some resemblance of a
routine.
A high pitched unnatural noise made him look up to the skies. In the
distance he spotted a tint dot. Irfan tried to focus on the object,
could it be a plane, he wondered. He got to his feet and started to
jump and shout. This commotion brought out Scott from the cave.
Irfan pointed excitedly but could no longer see or hear anything that
sounded like a plane. Could he be hallucinating now? It was there, I
swear to Allah.' He got to his knees and began sobbing. I'm not making
this shit up, I heard and saw a plane.'
Scott patted his shoulder, if there is a plane and somehow they seen
our SOS sign they will be back. We need to keep strong. Read your book,
find the strength within.'
Irfan wiped away the tears and got to his feet. He looked once more at
the sky but saw only clouds and blue sky. They returned to the cave.
What the fuck are you doing?' Scott jumped up and pulled out some of
the charred notes. He slapped at the bundle putting out the flames.
Irfan said nothing. Had he really seen a plane? Starvation did different
things to different people. Maybe he had hallucinated the whole thing.
Who could really tell in the end, only he and not Scott had heard or
saw anything. He needed something to focus on and now that he had
burned most of his money he only had one thing. His Book, the Koran. He
took it out and opened it, hoping the wise sayings of Mohammed the
Prophet would bring him solace in the end.
Scott bit his lip and then climbed into his sleeping bag. He pushed
himself so he was leaning against the wall. When Irfan read Scott did
the only thing he was really good at, taking apart his rifle and
putting it back together. Using a pipe cleaner he carefully pushed it
in and out of the various nooks in the piece.
Irfan put his book down and instead focused on the dancing fire.
Qurbani, or sacrifice as the Koran put it was important to all Muslims.
Had he simply realised the only way home was to sacrifice the money he
had looted? The last of the dollars was now burning to a cinder. God
must be watching us, surely, he thought. So why won't he rescue us? He
let these thoughts plague his mind before finally falling asleep.
He woke up to the familiar smell of the watery gruel they had been
eating for the last few months. Quite surprised it had lasted as long
he asked Scott, this goat seems to be the only thing keeping us alive,
how much is left?'
What?'
Are you kidding me, after all we've been through these last few months,
Inshallah is what is bothering you?' he laughed mirthlessly.
It was a stupid thing to hold against Scott after all they had shared
more time together in one place than he had with his own brothers.
Its nothing, well its just when you say it, I think you're taking the
piss.' Irfan picked up his bowl and stormed out of the cave. He was
sick of Scott taking the piss out of his religion. He started to eat
the broth, not much caring for the cold outside. Suddenly he stopped.
An eyeball stared at him from the bottom of the bowl.
He found it recently disturbed. The snow around the head of the mound
was scattered like someone had pushed it back in haste. Irfan got to
his knees and began to slowly dig. A few minutes later his fingers hit
flesh and bone. Bracing himself he grasped the head and pulled upwards.
He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The realisation hit him hard.
He started to cry. Oh God, no no no!'
Abduls face was butchered. Only half of the flesh remained. This wasn't
the work of a predator scavenging in the snow. This flesh was cut using
deliberate knife strokes in an attempt to make it last. Irfan didn't
need to dig up the rest of the body to know that Scott most likely
started with the fleshiest parts first.
Just then Scott came to the graveside, Irfan?' He put his hand on his
shoulder and squeezed gently.
What's the matter with you?' hissed Scott, what the fuck are you
talking about?'
Irfan pointed to the skilled cuts adorning Abduls defiled body, what
kind of teeth or claws made these type of cuts?'
I don't know what you're talking about!' But even he didn't believe his
own words.
Scott remained quiet. He looked at the grave and then back at Irfan's
face. Long enough,' he said with a sigh, a huge weight suddenly
lifting off his shoulders.
That meat was the only thing keeping us both alive in this wilderness.'
Irfan---I would have told you before, but would you have eaten it?'
He looked at him but Irfan was unable to meet his gaze. Tears welled up
in his eyes as he thought back to the hot broth he and Scott had filled
their bellies for the last few months.
I didn't think so. You had a hard time eating that fox. I didn't think
you would eat this meat. But I'm glad you know now. Come on.'
It is not fucking meat! His name was Abdul. He was a person, a fucking
person. He had a wife and kids. People out there loved him and cared
about him. Hell he was like my brother. How could you eat him! How
fucking dare you!'
Irfan you're over reacting. Take some time out and clear your head.
Think for once in your life. Not everything in this world is written in
your precious book.'
Do what.'
Irfan lunged at Scott and threw him to the floor. He tumbled upon him
and punched him hard in the belly knocking the wind out of him. They
fought hard for a few brief moments but tired easily. The thin cold air
took away their breaths.
He managed to climb on top of Scott and pin him down. He reached around
the snow and clutched at a rock and repeatedly bashed in Scott's head.
Dull thuds resonated around the mountains. After a few moments he
stopped panting hard. He turned and looked at his bloody hand, he
hadn't grabbed a rock, it was Abduls rotting skull.
Irfan fell besides the dead body of Scott, and cried hard. Tears rained
off his face and mixed with Scott's blood. He held Abduls head in his
arms and cried himself out. Oh God, what have I done.' The cold
brought him back to his senses. He placed the head back into the grave
and turned over to face Scott. He wasn't breathing; the blood had
quickly become frozen on the man's brow. He shook Scott's body but he
was very still. Dead still.
Oh my God. Oh my God what have I done? I'm sorry I'm so sorry. Scott.
Scott please don't die. Oh God'
He sat besides Scott crying. He wasn't sure how long he had sat crouched
there. An overhead sound of an approaching helicopter disturbed his
lamentations. It got louder as it drew near him. Irfan looked above at
the heavens. He was saved, at last he realised.
Allah be praised,' he said as he got up and stared as the speck grew
ever larger. But after what I have done how can I show my face ever
again to my people.'
He walked slowly back into the cave and closed the canvas behind him.
Moments later a single gunshot shot was fired.
THE END