Michael: “My God! Philosophical sayings and abstruse words for a boy who comes from a small village. No offense, of course… Where did you go to school? Where did you pick this up from?”
Theodore: “At a sports school. My father came from Lockfood City, where he got a good education. Then, after they got married, he and my mom moved to Gaia in search of a quiet life.”
Michael: “So what would your plan be? I'd just be interested to hear…not that I plan on participating in it, as it's completely absurd.”
Theodore: “I don't know yet. We need to scout the situation and figure out what we can do and how to get out of here.”
Theodore's fearlessness and courage both amazed and emboldened Michael. Although these empty words spoken by the younger captive seemed extremely amusing, considering his age and the situation in which they both found themselves. Theodore, however, was not lacking in self-confidence and courage. Michael felt as if he had been involved in a situation like this before.
One of the outcasts approached the car and began to look at the boys. It was a dark-skinned man with dreadlocks on his head and bulging red eyes, “Hey, did you bring us new meat for dinner? Are we going to have another meal of human meat tonight? Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!”
He pulled out a knife and began to lick himself nastily, leaning the blade now and then against his tongue and then against his cheek.
– Calm down, Gorg, and lock them in a container! I have other plans for them. Just don't touch them before they're done! Otherwise dinner will be made of you tonight! – ordered a voice from the crowd.
The bandit quickly opened the door on Ted's side and said: “Welcome, dear guests! Welcome to our shawl! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!”
He led the boys through the camp to an enclosed shipping container at the back of the outcast settlement. The whole gang gathered in the center of the camp, around a campfire where they were burning trash, while discussing something in parallel. Despite the tragic situation in which the boys found themselves, the atmosphere in the camp was quite relaxed: the outcasts were joking, teasing each other, having fun, playing some invented games and chatting around the fire. The little hostages, however, were clearly not in the mood for fun.
The black bandit opened the container. The hostages went inside. It was empty, dark, damp, and smelled musty. The door slammed shut behind them. They could hear the bolts that closed it from the outside creaking. Time passed very slowly in the container. The boys were groping around, trying to find some object or flaw in the metal box that might help them escape the confined space. A gap in the wall would also do. But the search was unsuccessful.
Evening came. It was getting dark outside. Michael and Theodore had been held captive for half a day, still not realizing what would become of them in the future, and not imagining how they could get free. The outcasts continued to burn trash in a rusted metal tank. The outside stank of cinders and burnt rubber. It was not clear how the bandits had not yet poisoned themselves from such a constant nasty and noxious odor. It was almost as if they liked it. And they really enjoyed inhaling it into their lungs. There was no outside light, and only the fire, now and then bursting from the tank, illuminated the outer features of the camp.
The voices intensified, and rough male laughter came from far away. The radio played, tuned to the rock music wave. The outcasts were celebrating their catch of the day. It had been a good day for them: they had gotten a couple of hostages, a couple of cars, and a gun that one of them had armed himself with. And mobile devices that could be sold on the black market. A dinner of gophers they had managed to catch in the desert was planned ahead. This at least meant that the bandits would be well-fed, and there would be no need to waste the boys. The thugs cooked the meat over a fire from under the garbage with smog soaked with burnt polyethylene, clothes, paint, acids, and other junk. How could anyone even manage not to die after such a hypertoxic dinner? But the outcasts didn't have much wood, so they apparently didn't have much choice.
Up to this point, Michael had been on his feet the entire time he had been trapped in the container, because he didn't want to sit down on the dirty metal floor, but he didn't have the strength to stand any longer. So he decided to sit down next to Theodore, who was not the least bit squeamish about the fact that he had already soiled his clothes.
Michael: “Do you have any relatives besides your father?”
Theodore: “My mom died of an illness. The rest of my family abandoned me, pretending as if I never existed, so it's just me and my father… It's more accurate to say just me. Do you have a full family?”
Michael: “I'm sorry. I still have my mom in Ounwilschen. I don't know how she'll take the loss of my father and I…”
Theodore grabbed Michael's hand and shook it as hard as he could, then said: “Don't you dare bury yourself before your time. You're still alive!”
Michael, pulled his arm out: “For how long. The prospects of getting out of here are slim…”
Theodore, “Don't get discouraged! That's the last thing you should do in a situation like this!”
There were pops, roaring engines, gunshots and screams outside. It was hard to make out anything in particular. Some were screaming in pain, some were commanding, some were yelling from overwhelmed emotions.
Michael: “Get down! In case they start shooting in our direction!”
The boys quickly lay down on the floor and covered their ears with their hands so they wouldn't hear the loud noises. After a while, the screaming stopped. Only approaching footsteps and conversations of unknown people could be heard.
A man's voice: “Search the area! He must be here somewhere!”
Who were these people? Their saviors? The police? Or just another gang of outcasts vying for territory? But whoever they were, surely it couldn't get any worse than falling into the clutches of cum cannibals. Michael rose to his feet, stumbled to the door, and began pounding on it as hard as he could, begging for help: “Help! Help! We're in here!”
Theodore: “What are you doing? Sit down!”
Footsteps began to be heard closer and closer.
Female voice: “I heard something coming from that container!”
A man's voice: “I'll check it out, cover me!”
The deadbolts creaked. The door began to slowly open. Michael took a step back with his hands in the air. A faintly discernible human silhouette appeared in the opening. It was Fred. He noticed Michael and lowered his weapon, “It's okay, I found him.” Theodore rose from the ground, looking at Fred incredulously, leaving his hands raised up in the air. Michael rushed over to his savior and hugged him tightly, whispering in his ear: “I was scared. So scared…”
– You'll be fine. You'll be home soon! What's wrong with you? Don't get soft! You're not a woman! Come on, pull yourself together! – Michael was cheered up by the mercenary.
– Who's that? That other kid…” Fred asked, pointing his finger at Ted.
– That's Theodore. He's been through a lot, too. The outcasts killed his father. – Michael also whispered and introduced the second hostage to the mercenary.
Fred: “Don't be afraid, boy! We're taking you home too!”
Michael: “Fred, he has no parents left and nowhere to go.”
Fred: “Okay, we'll settle that on the way then. Anyway, first things first, we need to get out of here. Let's go!”
Together they went outside and headed toward the vehicles. The camp was brightly lit by the headlights of jeeps and motorcycles on all sides. It was no longer as lively as it had been a few hours earlier. There were lead-laden corpses of outcasts everywhere, and the already dilapidated structures they had built out of whatever they had made as shelter were ablaze. There were several groups of mercenaries present: one was Fred's group, and the second (larger) was Lauren's group. Michael knew her as well, though he didn't see her that often. From time to time, the girl also accompanied his father on trips when Fred was too busy to take orders. Michael stopped dead in his tracks. Forgetting his recent joy. He suddenly remembered, “Fred, what about my father? What about him? Did you find him? Is he alive?”
