The forgotten place. Part two.

Without realizing what had happened, Arlo tried to palpate his face. It was so dark that he thought he might be dreaming.

"Grandpa?" he whispered and his voice disappeared into that darkness.

As he felt the cold ground with his palms and realized that he was not lying on an iron table, he felt a slight headache and pain in his leg. And then he felt his foot being pinned by a rock.

"What happened?" he asked himself and at that moment the pain in his head became so intense that he just passed out.

In the dream he saw his childhood. He saw his parents, but their faces were covered in fog. All he could see were their old and torn clothes. He heard their voices, but those voices just seemed to disappear and he couldn't catch them to remember. He tried desperately to prolong that moment of his childhood when he thought the world was beautiful.

Then he saw a sunset and his grandfather stroking his head and reading him a book.

A book, he saw a big book filled with tales of wizards and love. It was a big book he had been reading since he was a child and it was the only book he had ever read, even when he grew up.

Then his dream turned into an endless stream of someone's voice that sounded like it was right inside his head. That voice made him want to run away, but he couldn't. He wanted to scream, to move, but all he could do was just wander in his sleep until he felt something very icy.

This unpleasant feeling of cold made him wake up with terror in his eyes. Jumping out of bed, he thought he was still asleep and so he ran forward. He thought he had been running for a long time, but he stopped when he bumped into someone with his whole body.

"And where are you running to? Go back to bed."

Still feeling the pain in his head, Arlo closed his eyes and opened them with all his might to wake up fully. Feeling someone's hands on his back, he quickly raised his head and saw the serious face of the man he had seen in the tunnel in front of him, Bannard.

"What happened?" he asked, continuing to stand beside him, completely unaware that he was now breaking the first rule of this place. And that rule states that no one should help anyone.

"Earthquake. Your foot was pinned by a rock. But you're lucky. Your leg isn't broken."

Abruptly stepping aside, Arlo looked around and noticed that he was in a room with a bed in the corner and a table and chair in the other corner. Looking at the man in the vest again, he became nervous and laughed.

"What's so funny? Does the fact that three people died left under the rocks make you laugh?"

"What?"

"If you're all right, go away."

"Did you get me out of there?" Arlo asked, deciding to sit up on the bed so he wouldn't fall from his dizziness.

"I got you out of there."

"What's your name?"

"Bannard."

"My name is Arlo. And thank you for saving me," Arlo said, rising to his feet again to extend his hand forward.

Bannard continued to be the most serious man, who still furrowed his brow and shook his hand, and his handshake was so firm that Arlo felt a slight pain in his fingers.

"It's time for me to go. My grandfather is waiting for me," Arlo said, and remembering his friend, he hurried to get out of here. But no sooner had he left than Bannard grabbed him by the arm and pressed him violently against the wall. Arlo had not expected such an outcome and the fact that Bannard was standing opposite him and very close made him even more nervous. Without saying anything, it was as if Bannard glared at Arlo and made him freeze and not move until he himself was out of the room.

Ahead of them was a long corridor with many doors. Trying to figure out what this place was all about, Arlo also couldn't stop looking at the broad back of Bannard, who was so tall that Arlo decided to figure out how much taller he was than him. As he approached him, he realized that Bannard was still one head taller than him.

"Say, what is this place? Your home?" Arlo asked quietly as they reached the end of the corridor.

"It's a camp."

"I came with a friend. I'd like to find him. He's all right, isn't he? His name is Zale."

Hearing someone's voices and laughter, Arlo wanted to look back, but at that moment Bannard dragged him sharply toward the iron door and, quickly opening it, he pushed him inside with force.

"What are you doing? I want to find my friend and I need to go home," Arlo said louder than usual.

Without saying anything or even trying to explain anything, Bannard covered his mouth with his hand and his expression became even more fierce. Terrified that he would never get out of here, Arlo decided he had to fight back. Trying to push his arm, he was still weak, and in the next second Bannard quickly grabbed his arm and pressed it against the wall with force. At that moment Arlo noticed the fear in his fierce gaze. And that fear continued to exist in his eyes until the voices subsided.

Without a word, Bannard opened the door. Deciding he'd better keep quiet, Arlo continued to follow him, completely ignoring the pain in his head and the slight shortness of breath.

Corridor after corridor, this building seemed to have no boundaries. Still, after a few minutes they reached another door, and this time Bannard knocked on the door twice and then opened it.

Finding himself in a room in which candles were lit and in the center of which sat an elderly man and a young woman beside him, Bannard said, "This is Arlo."

The older man put on his glasses and looked at Arlo from head to toe. His gaze made him uncomfortable. For he noticed a certain smirk on the man's face, which turned into a dry and unpleasant cough.

He took out a piece of paper, wrote something on it and gave it to the young woman, who wrote something too and then walked over to Bannard.

The fact that neither of them said anything frightened Arlo a little. And he wanted to get out of that creepy place fast.

"So he's the one who stayed under the rocks?" the woman asked, touching Arlo's cheek, thereby startling him a little.

"Yes."

"Who got him out of there?"

"I found him when I helped move the rocks to save the stones and some medicine," Bannard replied, keeping a calm and even fierce look in his eyes.

"Well, you got lucky. Though no, maybe not lucky. If you had died, you wouldn't have had to take such a dangerous step."

"Thank you," Bannard said and headed toward the door. Hurrying after him, Arlo wanted to ask a question, but he continued to follow him to another door that finally led into town.

If it had been dark and overcast during the day, it was now so dark, as if there had never been any light in the place. Somewhere he could see dim attempts to create light from the fire, which faded with each gust of wind. One of those gusts of wind just made Arlo start coughing and cover his face with a scarf.

Handing him the paper, Bannard looked at him as if something was bothering him now. Arlo was already confused. After all, he didn't understand what kind of man stood before him. He didn't understand why one second he was fierce and angry, and the next second his eyes were filled with fear and concern. He didn't understand him and he didn't understand his life, which was suddenly within the walls of this place he hadn't even thought of.

"What is this?" he asked, looking at the papers and reading there his name and three numbers - 217

Tomorrow morning at 6:00 a.m. And don't forget to take your most valuable things with you. You're not going home anymore," Bannard said and quickly closed the door behind him.