chapter 5

Chapter Five

On Monday, I was sitting next to Nikolai on the doorstep of one of the barracks, staring at the partly cloudy sky. Around 20 of our group members were playing football with a worn-out ball they had found on top of one of the rooms.

It was more of a chaotic brawl than an amateur game. Nikolai commented quietly on their noise: "They seem to be enjoying themselves." "Yeah... and raising more dust than ruckus."

Boris was among them, playing roughly, shoving anyone in his way. Rezil showed up and sprawled on the ground near me, stretching his legs and leaning his back against the wall. "Why aren't you guys joining them instead of just sitting here?"

Nikolai stayed silent, so I replied, "I don't think either of us is in the right mood for it."

He raised an eyebrow, "Are you really young? Ah, if only my knees would cooperate a bit, I'd show you how the game's really played."

I laughed, "Rezil, you're talking like an old man who's past his prime."

He smiled, watching them for a moment before sighing and saying, "I swear I used to be at a level no one here could match."

Nikolai turned to him, intertwining his fingers and asking, "Did you play football?"

"Yes... I was part of the best team in the city in my youth."

Nikolai asked, "Which city did you live in?" But Rezil didn't answer, and Nikolai didn't seem particularly interested in continuing the conversation. Nikolai wasn't much of a talker by nature, which is why we got along well.

I found myself thinking about the reason for the ongoing conflict in Gagan, so I asked, hoping one of them would answer me: "Do either of you know why we're here? I mean, what the hell is going on in Gagan?"

Both of them turned toward me, but Rezil spoke first: "It's just that the country's president has led it into corruption and collapse, but the rebels turned into wolves the moment foreign forces stepped in to support the government."

Nikolai then chimed in, "You mean those terrorists wanted power and to spread their ideology across neighboring countries."

Rezil shot him a disdainful look, pausing for a moment before replying: "What do you know about this country to judge its entire population?"

Nikolai seemed offended, replying, "Yes, I know most of them are savage Atonists trying to impose their views on everything."

Rezil clicked his tongue dismissively, "Excuse me," he said, getting up.

I asked, "Where are you going, Rezil?" He replied while dusting off his pants, "I'm going to rest for a bit. I heard there's a patrol planned to pass through the valley road leading to the village."

"Alright."

He looked at us and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his hand, saying, "I suggest you both get some rest too. You never know, you might be assigned to join us."

Before he left, it seemed he exchanged a glance with Nikolai.

Nikolai stared at him coldly until he disappeared into his nearby barracks, then said, "That bastard is definitely hiding something."

"What makes you think that?"

"Didn't you notice how he's trying to justify what the rebels are doing?"

I thought for a moment and shook my head, "I don't think he said anything suspicious… he probably knows something we don't."

"Whatever he knows, I doubt it's true."

"I don't know, my friend… but I'm sure if he were as you feel, he wouldn't be here following orders like the rest of us."

Nikolai simply turned his face away. At that moment, I noticed Boris was looking at me from the middle of the group. I didn't think much of it and just looked down.

An hour later, around 10 a.m., the sky still had scattered clouds. We were called to line up for the upcoming patrol. Some officers, including narrow-eyed Sobak, stood in front of us: "Today, we'll be patrolling toward the village of Kraden to monitor some suspicious movements in and around the village, and we'll resupply on our way back, so it should be a relatively quick mission. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir!" About forty volunteers shouted in unison.

Names were called, and I, along with Boris, Rezil, and 17 others, were selected. From the numbers, it was clear this would be a low-risk patrol, as the valley road was swept twice a week by foot patrols. This time, the patrol would consist of four vehicles. The first, leading the way, was a truck with a mounted machine gun in the back and four men. Then a transport truck, followed by a pickup truck carrying two soldiers, including Sergeant Samuel Meer, the patrol leader. The last vehicle was a pickup truck with a PKM machine gun mounted in the front and four soldiers, including me, Rezil, Timar, and two others who would sit with us in the back.

We were assigned as planned, but Boris ended up in the third vehicle ahead of us.

I bid farewell to Nikolai, and the vehicles started moving. I was sitting in the back, facing Rezil, while Timar stood on the machine gun. Two others were with us in the back. I was struggling to hold my rifle with one hand and cling to the truck's railing with the other, trying not to fall due to the severe bumps in the desert road, even though this wasn't my first patrol. Rezil noticed my struggle and smiled, "Relax... you'll cramp up if you keep holding on like that."

I nodded, smiling nervously as I looked out into the empty horizon. Rezil shouted at me, trying to be heard over the noise of the truck and the wind carrying dust while what remained of his thinning hair fluttered in the wind: "Do you have allergies?"

"Allergies to what?" I shouted back over the noise.

He replied, "Your nose is running, and your eyes are red."

I touched my nose and found that it was indeed running, and my eyes were burning from the dust. I answered, "Yes, you're right! My nose is sensitive."

He smiled and said, "Cover your nose with a wet cloth from now on... that'll help, or else you'll lose your nose."

I laughed, "Thanks for the advice."

He nodded, smiling.

I was about to ask him why he hadn't told Nikolai where he used to live when Timar said, "We've reached the valley."

Everyone grabbed their weapons in anticipation. In truth, Timar was the same skinny man who had helped me when I stumbled during my first patrol.

We entered the road that passed the security checkpoint, which ran between two cliffs about six meters high and ten meters wide, with the road being closer to the right side. Some nearby hills surrounded it, casting a shadow over the vehicles.

"Why have we stopped?" Rezil asked while still sitting.

Timar, standing at the machine gun, described what he saw: "There are goats blocking the road."

Rezil looked to the side and said, "Dismount."

He jumped from his side, and I jumped from mine. I noticed two men from the first vehicle approaching the herd of goats and sheep gathered on the road, refusing to move despite the truck's horn.

As I approached, the driver of our truck told me to stay where I was. Rezil placed his hand on the left window of the vehicle, asking the driver while looking at the herd, "Where's the shepherd, I wonder?"

But I was watching the soldier standing near Samuel, about 25 meters away. He moved closer to scatter the goats. There, among the legs of the goats, lay a pile of hay arranged oddly. The goats were busy greedily eating the hay. But as soon as that volunteer saw the pile, he stepped back slightly, and Sergeant Samuel shouted: "Take cover!"

Before he could finish his sentence, a barrage of gunfire rained down on them, and they both fell dead instantly, right before my eyes.

Masked figures appeared on the distant left side of the valley and then on the hill directly in front of us. A deafening and terrifying hail of bullets poured down on us, and it became clear—we had fallen into an ambush.