DAY 876 - AUGUST 1, 2013
You call Mousa's name in desperation, hoping the Iraqi teenager will value the time you spent together in Aleppo. But that seems like a long time ago. His once rheumy eyes now look hard and angry. The ISIS way of life is not one forged around forgiveness. You both know that if Mousa helps you, he must flee with you. And where is there for him to go, really? Even if you get to the Turkish border, which seems a million miles away right now, he will have to start over as an illegal immigrant in Kurdistan. All the while the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria will be looking for him. And if he stays he faces losing a hand, or his life, to the machete that the soldiers are holding. He gains nothing from helping us. So he doesn't. The pain comes to your nose and then the thud at the back of your head as everything goes black. The last thing you see, before your sight evenly fades, is the prosaic face of the child you once knew...