Free BLOWBACK by Mukul Deva

most. He’ll take care of him meanwhile.’ He gestured at the man who had just alighted from the other Hiace, toting a large black medical bag. The newcomer was short, though equally heavily bearded and sported a pair of thick horn-rimmed spectacles. He ignored Tanaz as he got into the vehicle beside Iqbal.
    As the convoy started up again and carefully nosed its way past the shot-up vehicles, the bespectacled man removed the blood-soaked bandage and began to check Iqbal’s wounds.
    ‘Are you a doctor?’ Tanaz asked anxiously.
    ‘Keep quiet, woman, and let me do my work,’ the man said harshly without looking at her. He had a strange accent that Tanaz was unable to place. ‘And keep yourself covered! Have you no shame? Showing your face like that!’
    Tanaz suppressed an angry retort as she threw the veil of the bloodied burqa over her face. She kept her mouth shut as she watched the man get rid of the field dressings and clean up both the wounds. The minute the bandages came off, blood began to spurt out again. He reached into his bag and hauled out two silver-green rectangular packets with QuikClot printed on them in large red letters. Slitting them open one by one, he began to sprinkle sand-coloured granules onto the wounds. Tanaz had heard about this wonderous haemostasic agent but this was the first time she was seeing it being used.
    She watched in open-mouthed admiration as the thirsty, sand-like granules soaked up moisture from the blood and began to coagulate into a thick clot that completely covered the wound. Amost instantly, the flow of blood ebbed to a trickle and then stopped altogether.
    ‘What is that? Will it staunch the bleeding?’ Tanaz couldn’t stop herself from asking.
    ‘Of course it will.’ Perhaps the man was so used to being asked about the miracle powder, as the less literate jihadis were wont to call it, that he forgot he had told her to keep her mouth shut. There was a distinct note of pride in his voice as he explained, ‘The clot is strong enough to withstand high pressure, including blood transfusion. It will even stop blood loss from high volume arterial and venous bleeds. It’s a real life-saver.’ He waved the now empty packet at her before chucking it down. ‘In fact, had it not been for this, the goras would have lost many more lives in Afghanistan by now. Every damn NATO soldier carries one these days.’ Then, just as suddenly as he had begun to talk, his surliness reasserted itself and he clammed up. He gave Iqbal a shot and then jabbed an IV into him, hooking the bottle to the handle above the door.
    Still marvelling at the clot, Tanaz refocused on Iqbal, trying to keep him as comfortable and still as possible. Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought he was breathing a lot easier by the time the vehicles halted an hour later.

SEVEN
    The place they stopped at seemed to be a small village, or a suburb of the town looming large in the distance. From whatever little she was able to make out, they seemed to be near Faisalabad.
    Not that it mattered. Tanaz knew she had no option but to go with the flow, at least until Iqbal was fit enough to travel.
    The opening of the vehicle door put an end to her thoughts. The two burly mujahids who had carried Iqbal into the Hiace lifted him out and carried him into the compound.
    The compound comprised several small houses, most of them mud-walled, though there were a few brick ones too. A shoulder-high mud wall encircled the entire cluster. Cowdung and debris littered the area. Broken furniture was strewn around on the flat roofs of most of the houses. It had the peculiar, unkempt feel of a place that was largely inhabited by men whose minds were occupied with things more important than cleanliness.
    Either that, or this place is mostly used by transients who are merely passing through.
    Hurrying along behind the two men, she asked, ‘Where are we?’
    ‘At a safe place,’ the same man who had spoken earlier replied.
    ‘Safe