The desert. You can't see anything but her. How could anyone navigate this place? Michael still didn't understand: How could he get out? How to help his father? Was he even alive? And how to get back home? During the ride, he took a closer look at the boy sitting next to him. He was quite sturdy for his age, with short hair, wearing a T-shirt and shorts, and a backpack with a giant sign that said “Fighting” under his feet.
– Hey, what's your name? – Michael asked the boy in a whisper.
– Theodore. – Theodore answered just as quietly. It was obvious that he wasn't afraid, or hid his fear well. It gave some confidence to Michael, seeing how the younger hostage was holding up in a difficult situation.
Michael: “How did they stop you? Where did they get the guns from?”
In front, the two thugs were also talking to each other. One of them, turned half-turned to the boys and shouted: “Shut up, you little brats! Or I'll rip your tongues out!” Then he continued his dialog with the driver:
– I hate kids! What the hell do you need them for, Reno?
– I don't know, Seth, maybe he's trying to ransom them. Maybe he's got something else in mind.
– Since when did he start selling people? Guns and cars not enough for him?
– I don't know, Seth.
– Do you know anything at all? You got one answer for everything.
After half an hour of leisurely driving, the cars stopped at a makeshift camp made of aluminum sheets, tires, sticks, barrels, and other junk. There were three other people in the camp. They were dressed no better than the invaders. The same tattered clothes, dirty, unwashed, and reeking of sweat. Apparently their own stench did not bother them at all.
– We're home,” Seth said happily, addressing either the driver or himself.
– You assholes stay in the car until they call you! If you try to run or move, we'll shoot you where you stand! – Seth said angrily, this time addressing the hostages, and got out of the car, slamming the door behind him.
– Really, guys. Just do what you are asked to do and you probably won't get hurt. – added the driver, and left the car as well. The boys were left alone with each other. They glanced at each other.
Theodore: “We were on our way from Gai to visit my father's acquaintances in another village. Hobos attacked out of nowhere. One of them pulled out guns and started shooting at us. My father did not have time to dodge, as he did not expect it, and several bullets hit him. He died of his wounds almost immediately. I was lucky I was sitting on the other side and was able to group up in time.”
Michael: “But where did they get the guns and the whole camp from? From what I've heard, they're nothing of the sort, and absolutely everything is taken from them before they're expelled.”
Theodore: “I also, like you, know nothing about this gang. Who are they and where are they from? All I can say is that they will answer for it. How old are you?”
Michael: “You'll be 15 in April, how about you?”
Theodore: “I turned 12 in February.”
Michael: “You don't look scared. You're not even scared?”
Theodore: “I'm saving my strength for revenge. I don't know what I'm going to do yet, but I'm not going to sit here.”
Michael: “Are you serious? Alone in the desert, away from the road and home. With no weapons. A twelve year old boy against seven outcasts armed with guns and sticks. What can you do?”
