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had nothing good to say about Lakota or the rebuilding, and their success had made her seethe. Hasif was the opposite. He tried to convince them it would be the best place to go. If they could get to the ocean, they could find a yacht and sail across. They didn’t have many options, Israel certainly wouldn’t allow them inside their walls, the European countries had abandoned the land and moved to the sea, living in ocean liners and on oil platforms. The more they read from the Koran, the deeper they sank into their beliefs that it was up to them to repopulate the earth with true believers.

Hasif had to get out. He needed to get his wife and their daughters away from the kind of religious fervor that had resulted in the death of billions. If anything, he’d lost his own religion. He didn’t know what he believed anymore, but he knew he didn’t want any part of what Fariq was preaching.

Their split had been slow at first, minor disagreements, friendly banter, discussions about the Koran and their future, where they agreed to disagree. But it escalated quickly when they insisted he had to join them, he had to be strong in his faith.

The deeper they went, the farther away he pushed them. They were already rationing the water, they’d stopped taking sponge baths a month ago. There was enough to keep them alive for another six or eight weeks, but he didn’t think he could last that long. He used his binoculars to check the parts of the city surrounding them and nothing had changed. Everyone was dead and milling around, slowly deteriorating, slowly falling apart, but not fast enough. From his vantage point, there were hundreds of thousands that he could see, millions he couldn’t. The base of the pyramid had a few hundred stumbling around it, forgetting why they were there, but not wandering off. Hasif had led them, back a few months ago, on an ill attempted raid to gather more food, at least some more spices. He and Fariq had made it to the nearest apartment buildings, but there was nothing left. Cairo had been cut off and starving long before the hordes swarmed in. The people that barricaded themselves into houses had long ago died of starvation or suicide. The city had been picked clean by hungry people and they found nothing of use, nothing to eat. The only thing they accomplished was to have a horde of undead chase them back to the pyramid. He’d tried to talk to Fariq away from his wife, to convince him they needed to get away, not wait until the last moment, but he had become as devout as her. He insisted they should make their way to Mecca, he didn’t believe the lies of the Americans on the radio. It couldn’t have been destroyed. It just wasn’t possible. In Mecca, they would meet other like-minded people and commence with the rebuilding of the world, the way it was meant to be.

Hasif had tried to reason with him but in the end, he became afraid at the lengths his friend might go. To keep the peace, he pretended to agree to avoid the violence he saw building. Al-Taqiyya. It was allowed to lie to your enemy and sadly, that’s how it felt. Hasif was pragmatic and made plans based on what he knew, what he saw, and what he could conclude from the facts they had. His friend looking for spiritual answers, mystical revelations, and divine guidance. He was radicalizing himself. The isolation, his devout wife, and hours of prayers every day changed him, turned him into those they had shunned before. They talked of getting a vehicle that could carry them all away, maybe out to the fortresses in the desert the wealthy had stockpiled, for starters. Hasif nodded his head, pretended to agree, and helped him make plans. He watched him slowly descend into a kind of madness. He couldn’t handle their situation and found answers in ancient books, instead of seeking a way to a new future.

Fariq believed Hasif’s daughters were destined to be with his son. The boy was fifteen and eager, not wanting to wait. Every chance he got, he would casually mention that Aisha was only nine when she consummated her marriage with the prophet Mohammed. Hasif wouldn’t have it. His eldest was only twelve, still a baby. The boy could go find a dark corner to do his business, he wouldn’t be doing it with his daughter. He’d seen this before, too many times. Good men gone crazy in their beliefs.

He’d had a conversation with Gun Sergeant Meadows about this very thing many years ago. They spoke of many religions and traditions throughout history that lead the masses down dark paths. Twisted words and beliefs of the founders until they were no longer recognizable. They didn’t know if the Aztecs had started out on day one saying, “Hey, let’s kill people and sell body parts in the markets” or if the Spartans allowed their Agoge trainees to hunt and kill a slave from the very beginning, but they guessed not. It evolved over time. Evil men doing what evil men have always done, perverting something pure and good. It was the stupid leading the dumb. Like the Aum Shinrikyo doomsday cult in Japan that poisoned the subways with sarin gas. Their leader proclaimed himself the Christ and cobbled together a religion with bits and pieces from Christianity, Hinduism, Buddhism, and even Nostradamus. The stupid leading the dumb, Meadows had proclaimed, and there was no shortage of dumb people in the world.

Hasif had to get his family out before it got ugly. He could see it brewing and made plans. He wished he could take his friend, but he couldn’t. The six months in confinement had changed them both. Hasif wanted more than anything to go to the States and live in Lakota. Fariq wanted more than anything

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