Pazhar scrambled towards Kamaran, screaming for help from soldiers dug in further down the canal. He leaned over Kamaran, and whispered that he’d be O.K. Kamaran moaned, but didn’t say anything.
Three peshmerga rushed towards them with a blanket to haul Kamaran out. Kamaran mumbled to Pazhar, “I’m dead,” and then again, softly, “I’m dead.” The soldiers rolled Kamaran onto the blanket and he let out an almost indistinguishable sigh. “I love you all,” he whispered in English, and then, in Kurdish, “I’m dead.”
Pazhar and the soldiers lifted Kamaran onto the blanket and carried him to the closest pickup, pushing him onto the truck’s bed. ISIS spotted them and fired, hitting the windscreen with two shots. The terrified driver slammed the gas; he had no idea that the tailgate was open. As the truck bounced over the uneven terrain, Kamaran fell out the back.