The weather had changed. The cold seeped into our bones. Everyone was shivering. Our souls trembled just as much as our bodies. Anxiety hung over the camp like a thick fog.
In the corner, Kudret's group was silently smoking what might be their last cigarettes. Maybe this really was the end.
Rauf was lost in dark thoughts. He was so deep in his head, he didn't even hear me.
— Rauf! Hey Rauf! Hellooo! Dude, answer me!
He looked at me, but didn't say a word.
— Why so quiet, man? Look, hear me out. Let's survive this fight, and then we'll have a real feast. I'm talking kebab, man. What do you say? I'm already starving. Aren't you?
— Ömer… I have a bad feeling.
— Oh come on, not this again. Are we going to face them like this? Pull yourself together, Rauf. Don't mess with my head.
— Whatever happens, happens. That's all I can say.
Preparations continued. Weapons were being cleaned, positions were being fortified. We had set up giant slingshots made from car tires on the hills. Especially Jilet... he was sharpening his knife so intensely that the sound alone could cut your ear.
— Jilet, you ready, champ?
He looked me in the eye, sweating, and nodded.
— That's my boy. Show them no mercy.
— Kudret, how's it going?
Kudret's voice was cold and firm.
— Almost ready!
Just then, we heard the engines outside. They were getting closer. Jilet raised his head, his blade catching the light. He was dying to slit all their throats.
— Everyone take your positions! — Rauf shouted.
The vehicles smashed through the gate. Six armored beasts, spiked and roaring. The first vehicle ran straight into our trap. Tire blown. Their confusion was written all over their faces.
— Fire!
With Rauf's shout, hell broke loose. The raiders took cover behind their vehicles, firing machine guns. Bullets ricocheted off junk and scrap. The rookies couldn't even lift their heads.
From the hill, our guys hurled Molotovs. A rain of fire began. Rauf and I tried to take down the ones caught out in the open.
— Rauf!
— Yeah?
— Use your ammo wisely!
— Got it!
Kudret was charging like a maniac with his MP5. You'd think it was a minigun, not a submachine gun.
— Kudret, take cover!
He couldn't hear me. He was like the Terminator, zoned in. He had already cornered four or five of them.
— Kudret!
— What?
— I said take cover!
— Not until I finish these guys.
Meanwhile, Jilet slipped in from the back. Three enemies already decapitated. But they retaliated hard. The shooting intensified. Jilet got pinned down. Kudret ran out of bullets and took a hit to the arm.
Rauf looked at him, disappointed.
— What's with the look, man? — Kudret asked.
— You're acting on your own again.
— So?
— So, this ain't a video game. You don't get to respawn. Got it?
— It's just a scratch. Just my arm.
— Could've been your head.
— Ömer, say something to this guy before I shoot him myself!
— Let's survive this first. Then I'll shoot you both. Shut up!
— Hey up top! What happened to the Molotovs?! Throw them already! We didn't set all that up for nothing!
Another Molotov came flying, landing right in the middle of the group Kudret had cornered. Two escaped, three didn't. Flames devoured them. Their screams cut through the night.
We couldn't even lift our heads at that point.
A metal object flew beside me.
It clinked and rolled to a stop.
My heart skipped a beat. My eyes involuntarily dropped to it.
A grenade.
Rauf's voice echoed faintly:
— Dude!
In one swift motion, I grabbed the grenade and hurled it back with all my strength.
Boom... one of their vehicles caught fire. But no one died.
— Where's Jilet?
— No idea, he'll pop up somewhere! — Kudret said.
— I'm here.
— Jilet? You talk?
— Yes.
— Why didn't you say anything until now?
— I usually prefer not to. Silence is better.
— You're a strange kid. Fall back and take cover, don't get caught in a Molotov.
— Got it.
We were almost out of ammo. So were they. The shooting was losing intensity.
— Up top! We need one more!
Another firebomb came down. Landed behind them. A scream. One more down.
We had losses too. Some who were hiding and others from the hill had fallen.
Maybe we're all going to die here.
— Kudret, got a gas cylinder?
— You hungry?
— Don't joke. Do we have one or not?
— What for?
— I'll let the gas out and roll it towards them. Then I'll ask for another Molotov.
— There's a small one in one of the tents.
I crawled over. Found a small, grey cylinder. Unscrewed the valve. Crawled back.
Shouted to the hill:
— When I give the signal, throw another one!
Got a bit closer with the cylinder. Valve open. I tossed it.
The moment it rolled, I whistled.
The Molotov cut through the air. When the flame met the gas, it exploded. That wasn't just the gas tank blowing up — another vehicle went sky-high.
The enemy didn't lose more men, but they started retreating. If we had ammo, we'd have chased them. But we didn't.
Still, this was a victory.
They lost 8.
We lost 10.
We gathered the dead. Buried them.
That night, we lit a fire in a barrel. Everyone gathered around. Beer bottles clinked together.
We called the hidden families back. Everyone had the same question in their eyes: "What now?"
Rauf took a deep breath:
— They probably won't come back for a while.
Kudret added right away:
— For a while... maybe.