Read Online Never Fear by Heather Graham - Free Book Online

in
front of the television after dinner. The news reporters never had
much good to say.
    The Islamic State’s advance into Iraq
gained momentum every day. Sabra had watched the suffering of the
Yazidi tribesmen trapped atop Mount Sinjar earlier in the year. She
recalled the tear-soaked faces when many had been rescued from
death by the Kurdish helicopters that had swooped down like angels
from on high to take them away from that hell. Sabra wondered what
her face looked like as her family fled a similar hell.
    A sharp crack sounded behind them. The
entire family ducked low, just in case the gunshot had been meant
for them.
    “ I said do not let go,”
Father scolded, latching on to Sabra’s hand again. She had not
realized she had let go to cover up Fahim’s mouth, to keep him from
screaming.
    “ Where are we going?
Surely they have taken the roads and train station by now.” A line
of black grease smudged across Qadir’s forehead from where he had
wiped his sweat away.
    “ We have to make for the
river. It is farmland on the north side. They are too busy taking
the city. We will be safe once we reach the farms.” Father
scratched at his short beard before peeking around the corner of
the house they had taken cover beside.
    Sahiliya’s narrow streets offered them
no room to run if they were to be spotted, but the streets
crisscrossed and zigzagged, slowing the advance of the militants.
The close buildings cloaked the streets in shadows, giving the
family a bit of concealment and also hiding the ever-present trash
scattered across the streets. Mother scolded the children every
time they stepped on an empty plastic bottle, reminding them to
watch their step, even though they could barely see the ground
beneath their feet.
    “ The river?” Mother said.
“How are we supposed to get across the river? Fahim cannot swim,
and if we are not caught, then we will freeze to death or
drown.”
    “ I can swim with Fahim,”
Qadir said, “and I know a shallow spot. It is by the mosque, about
a block away. That is where I would play with Mohammad and
Haroun.”
    Qadir winced, realizing he had just
reminded his parents about his skipping school to swim with a few
other boys in the Euphrates. As bad as Qadir’s punishment had been,
his two Muslim friends had to make penance for their truancy as
well as endure the Christianophobic imam’s scorn. The few Christian
families residing in Sahiliya usually endured a lazy indifference
from their neighbors. The Sunni Awakening within Al Anbar a few
years earlier had stymied the region’s desire to see more bloodshed
than they had already endured during the years of insurgency. This
spared them the derision many Christians in Mosul had to endure.
Sahiliya’s current imam, however, did not believe much in a
peaceful coexistence with non-Muslims.
    “ We will go there then,”
Father decided, leading the family on toward the mosque.
    “ Aziz.” Father flattened
against the wall as his whispered name carried over the chaotic din
filling the streets. “ As-salamu
alaykum ,” a man said, stepping from the
shadows.
    “ Wa-alaykum
salam ,” Father replied, placing a hand
over his heart when he recognized the man as Malik, their neighbor
and one of the family’s few friends outside the Chaldean Catholic
community.
    “ Where are you going? It
is not safe to be out, especially for you,” Malik said. His own
children peaked out from the gates of the mosque’s courtyard, the
family seeking shelter in the one place they knew would not be
targeted by indirect fire.
    “ It is not safe anywhere.
We have to get out of here,” Father replied.
    “ You can still live here.
The Daesh will
let you live in peace so long as you pay the jizya .”
    “ I will not pay another
man so I can worship God. No, Malik, there will be no peace for us
if we live under that black flag.”
    Malik nodded and placed
his hand on Father’s shoulder. “ Wa alaykum
salam wa rahmatullah .”
    “ Thank you. And,