The Insurrectionist Read Online Free PDF

Deni replied.
                “It’s all right to be afraid. It’s fear that keeps a person alive. Once you stop being afraid, that’s when they will get you.” Mikail whispered in Deni’s ear. “Are you afraid?”
                “Maybe a little bit,” Deni replied.
                “It’s not that bad,” Mikail said in response to the mortar. “It’s far away. The fighting is in the mountains. We’re not in any danger.”
                “I know,” said Deni bravely and then inched closer to his older brother.
                “You’re safe with me,” Mikail assured and Deni knew it to be true.
                Bashir finally returned home after midnight and walked straight to the bathroom. Turning on the overhead light, he noticed the soot and blood on his shirt and the dried blood underneath his fingernails. He removed his shirt and tossed it promptly in the garbage.
               
They were so much safer under Soviet rule
, he thought as he scrubbed his hands.
Freedom is for fools who don’t know what to do with it.
Bashir once had some dignity being Soviet military and now with the dissolution of the Soviet Union, he was stripped of his uniform and caught between the pro-Moscow forces and the Chechen Rebellion. He saw both sides but being a diplomatic man, he had no purpose in a place of such conflict.
                He surveyed the apartment, checking on his two daughters who were wide awake. He then walked into the boys’ room finding Deni in bed with Mikail. Finally he walked into his bedroom to find Kamiila awake. No one could sleep; he was raising a family of insomniacs. He knew he had one choice. It was the only choice he could make as a man.
                Nestled next to his brother, Deni heard his mother’s voice. She seemed distressed, but he couldn’t make out what she was saying. Suddenly the door opened and their father appeared. “Mikail, pack a bag we’re leaving tonight.”
                “Where are we going?” asked Mikail.
                “To your Uncle’s farm in Volgograd, he has a farm house. You will like it there,” replied Bashir.
                “What about school? What about my friends?” questioned Mikail.
                “There is school in Volgograd.” Bashir quickly packed a bag for Deni and lifted him in his arms. “When you’re done, help your sisters,” he said to Mikail.
                An hour later, Bashir’s family waited in the living room with their one allotted bag, tired and forlorn from being dragged out of their beds in the middle of the night. They had known the war; they had all been living with it for years and now suddenly their father was forcing them out.
                “Bashir, what’s with you? I don’t want to be driven out of my home,” said Kamiila.
                Bashir shook his head. The truth was he had seen too much violence and atrocity and tonight he had reached breaking point. He had carried too many children to the hospital and too many babies to the morgue. He had helped too many raped girls and he had picked up way too many lost limbs. His medical training in the Soviet army could never have prepared him for this.
                Tonight, as he gave his service to the people of Grozny, he thought of his own family. He imagined his daughters being raped and carrying his young son to the morgue. It wasn’t going to happen to his family. Bashir hoisted Deni in his arms and said, “Kamiila, do as I say and not another word!”
                It was still dark outside as Bashir led his family through the streets toward the Grozny train station. A few Russian tanks and blockades maintained order through the rest of the night. With his Russian connections, Bashir was easily able to get his family past any checkpoints.
                The train station was