Through the Horizons. Part 1. Escape - страница 5

I caught up with the guys after about 10 cars. Kolya managed to strike a deal with a person who agreed to give us a ride to Uralsk for 5,000 rubles per person, four of us in his car and one in his brother's car. We agreed and divided ourselves as follows: I, Vitya, Kolya, and Vlad in the first car, and Misha in the second. By 5:00 PM, we were already in the car, with only about 20 cars left to the border.

After putting our belongings in the trunk, I took off my t-shirt and hung it on the door to dry, as I was drenched in sweat and the shirt could be wrung out. The guys and I had a snack with what Vitya bought at the store.

A few minutes later, the same woman who was with her husband and whom I tried to negotiate with approached me.

If you still need it, let's go. We can take two people for free.

Since we had already made arrangements with the driver, it wouldn't be nice to change plans. However, we decided to send Misha with her, as he was in a separate car with unfamiliar people.

We drove to the border barrier for about a couple of hours, moving at a snail's pace. During the journey, we decided to get to know the driver better. He was from Kyrgyzstan and earned a living by transporting cars from Georgia to his homeland, so Kolya had something to talk to him about, as their activities were similar.

And then came that long-awaited and decisive moment when we passed the barrier and approached the stop line in front of the border booths for personal document checks. As we sat in the car, we watched and tried to listen to the guys going through passport control ahead of us.

The queue reached the last guy from the car in front of us. The border guard came out of the booth and invited him to come forward. He led him to a man in military uniform, and unfortunately, we were too far away to hear what they were saying. We could only make out a few words spoken in an elevated tone. We couldn't make out what the border guard was saying to the guy. But the fact remains unchanged: they put him in the car and took him in the opposite direction from the border. The other guys from that car turned back and headed towards the Kazakh border.

My fears after this incident that I wouldn't be allowed to leave the country and would be taken away like that guy multiplied, and my fear increased by tens of times.

It was our turn to approach the designated spot and approach the border booth. We lined up in the queue, and since I had the highest chances of sharing the same fate as the guy from the previous car, I stood at the end of the line.

Vitya approached the window first and handed over his passport. The border guard asked where he was going and with whom, mentioning the driver's name. The border guard looked up and saw all of us standing behind Vitya. He told us to call that driver over and stepped out of the booth, took out a cigarette, and lit it. When our driver approached, the border guard asked him:

Who are they?

Pointing at us.

They're my friends.

What are you saying, and what are their names?

Our driver stopped resisting and just lowered his head. It was easier for us to remember one of his names than for him to immediately grasp four new names. Now the border guard shifted his focus to us.

And where are you all headed?

Various versions of where everyone was going started pouring out. Someone said they were going to uncles and aunts, someone to grandmothers and grandfathers. I probably had one of the best stories: I said I was going to Kyrgyzstan for a mountain hike, and I had all the necessary gear that I could show if needed. After everyone finished their stories, the border guard erupted and started expressing his thoughts loudly, almost shouting.