Micah's gaze lifted, his eyes finding the moon hanging in the sky, its brightness almost rivalling that of the sun—or so it seemed to his weary eyes.
Struggling, he pushed himself up, his attention drawn to Peter, lying still beside him.
Then, abruptly, his vision began to blur, morphing into the image of a grand ship, a ghostly apparition upon the horizon.
A fierce shake brought him back to the present, Peter shouting his name, concern etched across his features.
Confused and teary-eyed, Micah tightly embraced Peter, their shared jubilation evident.
"We made it!" he exclaimed.
Peter, bewildered, managed a hesitant response, "Hooray...?"
Pulling away, Micah stammered, "We can begin anew!"
"Yes, I got the memo."
Peter surveyed their surroundings with wonder.
"But where should we go next?"
"To another orphanage."
"Oh, right," Peter sighed.
Micah scooted closer, understanding Peter's sentiments.
"I realize we faced horrors at that orphanage. But now, this is reality; they might treat us kindly."
"Yeah—probably." Micah patted Peter on the back, then rose energetically.
"Alright, let's depart from here," he declared, adjusting his trousers.
Peter followed suit, bathed in the glow of the orange sun.
It brought them relief, hope, faith, and a sense of redemption.
A new day had dawned.
Another chance to try anew.
They ventured deep into the city, the streets abuzz with activity.
"Wow, this is extraordinary," Peter remarked, gazing at the towering buildings.
Micah couldn't help but smile.
"You can say that again."
"What do you suppose awaits us at a different orphanage?"
"I'm uncertain, but I hope it's favorable," Micah replied. "I'm pondering where to locate one."
Spotting an alleyway, they decided to explore.
Suddenly, an eerie silence hung in the air.
Sounds reverberated strangely, as if echoing from a wholly different edifice.
"This is peculiar," Micah observed, eyeing a garbage can.
"I share the sentiment."
Then, an abrupt noise disrupted the tranquility.
Vrip
Men, dressed in black attire, descended from the building, sliding down poles to their level.
They were encircled.
"Uh, what's happening?" Peter inquired, trembling with fear.
Micah, equally anxious, stuttered, "I'm not sure—could it be a robbery?"
Approaching them, a figure declared, "No—but you're coming with us."
"Why?"
"You're escapees from that orphanage a few days ago."
"How do you know?"
"We received a call from our client, promising a generous reward."
In a sudden lull, Peter whispered, "Mrs. Jist."
Micah quickly added, "Or Kirk."
Interrupting their conversation, possibly the leader, declared, "You will now accompany us. Make any noise, and you might leave here missing a limb."
Instantly, the men seized their arms, binding them with ropes.
They were compelled to move through the alley, their freedom constricted.
"How did we come to this?" Micah pondered, suppressing the emotions surging within him.
"It's as if nowhere is safe," Peter sighed. "It's like that orphanage is still haunting us."
Micah nodded.
Soon, they arrived at a van with heavily tinted windows, accompanied by men evidently awaiting their arrival.
One of them hastened to open the door, providing a path into the vehicle.
Micah went in first, blindfolded and tossed into the car.
Peter followed, the blindfold affixed more forcefully before being thrust into the vehicle.
He winced as his leg hit the side, a sharp cry escaping him.
"Quiet!" a voice snapped as the door slammed shut.
Another door opened, but it was challenging to discern which one.
Peter assumed it was the front door, given the van's roaring engine.
"Hah, and just like that, we've secured five hundred million dollars."
"What do you mean?"
"These kids are King Homer's sons; Ikes would pay a fortune for these youngsters."
"So, why not return them to the Ike orphanage?"
"It's an orphanage; they've got nothing. Let's auction them."
"Yeah!" a chorus of voices cheered.
Peter felt tears welling up, attempting to stifle the sniffles.
So, their time in the orphanage was a scheme?
They were sent here?
All those stories were lies!
And now, they were about to be auctioned off to some Ike orphanage.
Peter was on the verge of breaking down, too terrified to even breathe.
To even think.
To even blink.
The van rocked mercilessly, causing Micah to gag.
Alarmed, someone shouted, "Who did that?"
"I don't know," a voice grumbled. "It seems to be both of them."
"Amusing."
"So, what will you do with the money?"
Excitedly, one of them exclaimed, "I'm going to start a military enterprise for the Ikes."
Laughter erupted.
"That's actually a splendid idea. We could charge millions for each vehicle."
"But don't the Ikes already have vehicles?"
"Nonsense, they need to manufacture them, which costs thousands of resources."
"But with the money we have, we can commission the top Earthlings to create vehicles for us."
"Wow, thank goodness for these top Earthlings."
"You can say that again!"
Their laughter chilled Peter to the bone.
What had they stumbled into?