Free Sunrise: Wrath & Righteousness: Episode Ten by Chris Stewart Page B

like only the mountain air could be, cloudless and clean, with visibility of a hundred miles or more. Looking around him, Omar felt suddenly exposed. For the past week, he’d been traveling under cover of night or clouds, the fog and low clouds on the mountains as thick as the night, but he was standing in the open now, looking down on the village. He knew that it was foolish and he glanced toward the hut, wishing they were inside.
    The village leader remained silent. Omar couldn’t wait any longer. “Sanctuary,” he pleaded.
    The leader shook his head. “I have a family. They’d be in danger. It wouldn’t be right to jeopardize their safety. I’m sorry, my good friend, but the answer is no.”
    Omar stared at him, his mouth open. He wanted to take the village leader by the clothes and shake him. He wanted to smash him in the face. He wanted to scream and curse him. He wanted him to see! This child is our future, the future of our world. Everything you hold dear and holy is hanging in the wind. He is the only hope of a future kingdom in Saudi Arabia not based on insanity and rage. The Americans won’t let Abdullah survive inside his kingdom. They will come for him. Yes, he has wounded them, but the Americans are still alive. They’ll retaliate. They’ll surely kill us. This child is our only hope!
    Fighting the rage inside him, Omar didn’t say anything. Glaring at the village leader, he thought for several moments, his heart beating in his chest. But as he looked at him, seeing the fearful expression on his face, he realized the leader wasn’t going to change his mind.
    Omar glanced down at the boy who was standing at his side, then put his hand on his shoulder and guided him away. Turning, they started walking up the winding trail that led back into the mountains. Forty steps ahead of them, the trees grew thick. Beyond the first grove of evergreens, the trail dropped twenty meters toward a mountain stream. On the other side of the gushing water, the trail climbed out of the streambed and quickly disappeared in a thick forest of pine and mountain oak.
    Looking behind him, Omar felt a sense of anxiety. Too long in the open. Too long to be seen. He felt a web of fear running through him and he fought the sudden urge to run.
    The village leader stood beside his hut and watched them go, his eyes sad, his lips pulled into a frown.
    Omar caught his eye in a final farewell, then took the child’s hand and pulled him closer. “We must hurry!” he declared.
    *******
     
    Above him, hidden in the rocks and low shrubs, the king’s sniper spoke into the radio transmitter attached to his lapel. “Target is exiting the area,” he announced urgently.
    The radio buzzed in his ear. “Confirm the target is leaving the immediate location.”
    “Affirmative. Target is moving back up toward the mountains.”
    He heard a vicious curse, as angry and foul as anything his language had to offer. “You must not let them reach the mountains,” his commander said. “We’ve been looking for them for weeks now. If they make it to the mountains, we’ll never find them. We can’t operate up there !”
    The sniper simply waited. There was nothing more for him to say.
    “Is the escort staying with the target?” the voice in his radio demanded.
    “Yes, the fat one is staying with the boy.”
    “Do whatever it takes to stop them. We’re still seven minutes away.”
    “I can’t stop them without killing him.”
    “Do whatever you must to stop the fat one, but leave the boy alive. You know our instructions. We must save him for the king!”
    *******
     
    Looking ahead, Omar saw the trail descend suddenly, winding through a series of short switchbacks toward the rushing stream. He was close enough now that he could feel the moist air kicked up from the water gushing over the boulders in the stream. In fifteen meters they’d start descending, dropping out from sight.
    He felt the urge to run again. Something was screaming inside