Chapter One : Dangerous Encounters

Sounds of a calm creek, one of the few left outdoors. Water is one of the scarcest resources in the country known as Manakhstan. Conditions are often too harsh. A large part of the population dedicates at least one hour of their day to prayers. The constant search for understanding the will of the entities above, name established for the three gods that make up the functions of life: creation, death and time.

Since ancient times, beliefs have been strengthening, even more so with the constant wars signed in modern times.

In that remote place, where the water runs without a rectangle, just below there is a sequence of accumulated rocks. It is about four inches high, between the bed and the surface. It is a place feared by travelers, as it is considered a place for attempts and suicides.

Even people imbued with strictly religious conduct are unable to bless that place. The land is poor in nutrients, and it is said that the spirits can be seen by all.

Faced with such findings, no one deigned to give it a name. They did not see, and still do not see, its importance.

But there, about two meters at the back of the site, there is a bus. It's a very old bus, even by the standards of that simple-minded country.

This bus carries stacked suitcases, fruits packed in interlaced bags visible to the eye, and lots of suitcases. All of these, piled on top of the bus.

Blood is visible on the walls of the bus, without anyone outside seeing it. There are also bodies lying on the floor, while some of them lie lifeless, leaning on the seats.

Three men check to see if anyone else is alive. He moves cautiously, dressed in black dress clothes and turbans. Their faces are covered with white masks, where only their eyes are visible. They are armed with high-caliber weapons, and those weapons are rifles. One of them, known as Emir, has the luxury of changing his gun's clip without much fuss.

- Where did she go? - Emir is very confident, given the situation created. There is no remorse coming from your actions. His voice portrays irony, and a bit of disregard, but he doesn't even care.

This questioning should have been asked by me, but it wasn't the case, was it? Tell me, if you were without that weaponry, what are the chances of coming with me?

Abet points, with his index finger, at his Emir's rifle. Abet is second in command. A man of unpredictable methods, who keeps a lot of what he thinks.

Emir cannot get rid of the annoyance of having his conduct questioned. His physique is slim. Emir is an easy person to find because he enjoys solitude.

Giving up is not enough under any circumstances as there are no questions about his work – Emir stops his activities with the rifle. His attention is focused in total, on the person of Abet. However, silence is present between total.

Emir points the index finger of his left hand at him in an authoritative tone, unable to allow answers from each of them.

I'm willing to do whatever it takes. Our flaw can be fixed. Have... faith in the possibility of adjusting all of this – Kadar listened to his companions, in the most complete silence, until he made his decision: remove the cold, which allows his weapon to fit on his shoulder, in the shape of a cross, and hand it over. to their leader Emir.

Outside, both notice the presence of a gale, noticeable because of the intense sound. The wind causes countless leaves to migrate from trees with strong and robust trunks, supposedly centuries old, to the creek.

Both look at the way back, where that lifeless bus was, with concern for what would have appeared.

- Why discard your only weapon? Your slightest chance of protection, for what's next? - Emir returns the weapon to him, giving it to him with his right hand, without being refuted by Kadar. There is no objection on his part, he just accepts it.

- I thought it was fair and perfectly in line with what we stand for. Imagine having to hunt down a girl, with the use of weapons - Kadar holds the weapon quite firmly, demonstrating a lot of luck in his choice.

- To hunt? Is it an animal, really? - Emir is surprised by the spoken words. Kadar, by contrast, remains quiet.

- We do not equate ourselves with the persecuted. They have committed transgressions more than worthy of punishment – Emir turns to face him, in a way that demonstrates his presence and authority – They are the transgressors, and we are the cure. By our hands, that true justice will be established – Emir places his hands towards the sun. Both his companions note how much truth there is in his words.

Your eyes leave this fixed posture, and are dedicated to what may be inside the river. Kadar accompanies his choice, expressing his feelings through a sharp exhale of air.

- I don't guarantee you any chance of coming back alive, to be honest – Kadar and Abet both bow to accept the spoken words. Members of the Istezadrus sect regard sentences based on fate as absolute truths.

- If we don't succeed... We better not come back. Better yet that we weren't born - Emir's eyes pay attention to Kadar's, before cleaning them because of the dust exposed in the air, brought by the wind. They stare at each other until they understand that their destinations were those. There isn't, and they wouldn't have done it any differently.

Without more to be said, alone, Kadar walked down the left side of the stream, avoiding the rocky path that was there.

There is a mountain right behind the rock formations. A place of difficult access, and of very little interest in being explored. The wind remains a constant that prevents the two snipers above from using their weapons correctly.

We're in position, Mister Emir – Omar, the oldest sniper in the group, in his fifties, answers him. Emir has a communicator tucked under his turban, with the wires connected to his right ear. With their sniper in their fists, supported with both hands and arms flexed, they left on the verge of waiting for confirmation that would come with the search closer to the igarapé, next to Kadar.

- How many of them? - Emir, question him quickly. He is aware that the answer will come clearly and succinctly, to be reported to his superiors.

Men, women, children... none of them escaped. The shots were accurate. Most of them withstood just one bullet. They died without having much time to pray – Omar reveals to him. However, words are not capable of causing reactions in Emir. The words he hears, inside him, sound the way they should.

Among them, any girl, with an estimated age of twenty? Long, black hair? - Emir demonstrates a small degree of dissatisfaction, with the clear objective of having his answers.