Page 288 - The Kite Runner

The Kite Runner 277

“We left them out for the dogs, you know.”
I saw what he was getting at.
He stood up, paced around the sofa once, twice. Sat down
again. He spoke rapidly. “Door to door we went, calling for the
men and the boys. We’d shoot them right there in front of their
families. Let them see. Let them remember who they were, where
they belonged.” He was almost panting now. “Sometimes, we
broke down their doors and went inside their homes. And ...I’d ...
I’d sweep the barrel of my machine gun around the room and fire
and fire until the smoke blinded me.” He leaned toward me, like a
man about to share a great secret. “You don’t know the meaning of
the word ‘liberating’ until you’ve done that, stood in a roomful of
targets, let the bullets fly, free of guilt and remorse, knowing you
are virtuous, good, and decent. Knowing you’re doing God’s work.
It’s breathtaking.” He kissed the prayer beads, tilted his head.
“You remember that, Javid?”
“Yes, Agha sahib,” the younger of the guards replied. “How
could I forget?”
I had read about the Hazara massacre in Mazar-i-Sharif in the
papers. It had happened just after the Taliban took over Mazar,
one of the last cities to fall. I remembered Soraya handing me the
article over breakfast, her face bloodless.
“Door-to-door. We only rested for food and prayer,” the Talib
said. He said it fondly, like a man telling of a great party he’d
attended. “We left the bodies in the streets, and if their families
tried to sneak out to drag them back into their homes, we’d shoot
them too. We left them in the streets for days. We left them for
the dogs. Dog meat for dogs.” He crushed his cigarette. Rubbed
his eyes with tremulous hands. “You come from America?”
“Yes.”