Chapter - 5
“The Price of Survival”
Dawn fell upon the canyon .
Cold air lingered between the stone walls as the first pale light crept across the hidden compound.
Most of the children were already awake , they couldn't sleep well through the night . Throughout the night the desert above them had trembled with distant war—engines, thunder, and strange metallic echoes rolling through the rock like ghosts.
Now the morning seemed calm again.
Too calm .
One of the younger boys wandered toward the narrow path that led to the canyon entrance , he stopped suddenly , someone was lying there.
A man
A soldier - camouflage clothes with a commander's hat and gas-mask glasses that were lying nearby .
He had crawled all the way here , his clothes had dust all over them .
At first the children thought it was just another pile of cloth abandoned by travelers that came along once in a while .
But then the man moved a little , as he couldn't move more , he had already exhausted himself in search of help , and now he slept on the sand . Dust slowly moved near his face as he took deep breaths .
Several children slowly approached.
The soldier lay face down in the dust, his uniform torn and darkened with blood , they noticed one arm stretched forward weakly, as if he had been dragging himself toward the compound .
He tried to speak.
Only fragments of sound escaped his throat , not even proper mumbling .
None of the children understood the language and he wasn't speaking any at the moment, he was already half conscious and couldn't say a single proper word .
They watched in silence.
Most of them had never seen a dying man before , although some had seen death but it was from far away on the battlefield.
Footsteps approached behind them.
The man in black arrived , he stood near the soldier and observed him quietly.
The wounded man raised his trembling hand trying to reach weakly toward him.
For a moment it seemed as if he might just say something , but the strength left his body as his arm dropped back into the sand.
His body stopped moving.
The man in black did not react.
After several seconds he turned to one of the guards .
“ Remove him”
He said in a calm voice and then looked towards the children.
“Inside ! Now !”
Now with anger but pressure in his voice could not be ignored .
No one argued and the children walked back into the compound buildings while the guards moved toward the body .
As the group turned away, the boy lingered for a moment.
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He picked up the gas mask glasses near the soldier's body , observed for a moment and finally wore it over his head as his hairs bent around it .
It was dusty but intact.
By midday, the body had disappeared.
Only the faint stain remained.
The convoy arrived shortly after noon.
Three trucks this time entered the canyon one after another.
The children recognized the sound immediately.
Foreign visitors.
Men stepped out wearing desert jackets and heavy boots. Some wore suits despite the heat .
They spoke rather quickly among themselves as if in a hurry but still the discussion seemed important nevertheless.
English.
French.
Other languages the children did not recognize.
Once again the guards unloaded several heavy wooden crates from the trucks.
When the lids were opened, sunlight flashed across rows of gold bars stacked carefully inside .
The visitors inspected the children.
Just as they always did.
They examined teeth.
Posture.
Eyes.
Some asked questions in English.
“Can he read?”
“How old?”
“Does he remember his parents?”
At this point the questions seemed to repeat…
And once again the answers were given by the man in black and not by the children themselves.
Fifteen of them were chosen.
They climbed quietly into the back of one of the trucks.
Some looked nervous.
Some looked proud.
Most simply obeyed.
While on ground some of them looked happy, some scared a few cried but most remained silent .
The trucks departed soon afterward and the canyon became quiet again , but the day was not finished.
Late in the afternoon, the sky began to shiver again.
A deep rotating thunder rolled across the canyon.
The boy looked upward.
A large helicopter descended from the north.
Its metal body was painted in dull desert camouflage—faded green and brown patterns meant to blend into the landscape; it was larger than anything they had seen flying up until now .
Dust exploded across the compound as the aircraft finally settled onto the ground.
The rotors hammered the air.
The side door suddenly opened .
Several armed men jumped down first.
They carried modern rifles and wore equipment that looked far more professional than the compound guards.
Then another man stepped out.
He moved differently from the others
Calm & Confident.
He was not a soldier.
He looked more like a businessman.
The man in black approached him.
They shook hands briefly.
The man spoke in English with a heavy accent.
“Good transport aircraft,” he said, patting the helicopter’s side.
“Reliable. Soviet design.”
He gestured towards the cargo bay and then the guards dragged several long wooden crates out onto the ground.
The crates were opened.
Inside were rows of rifles wrapped carefully in oiled cloth.
The salesman lifted one and presented it proudly.
“Standard combat rifle.”
He pulled the bolt back with a sharp metallic click.
“Pattern used widely by the Red Army. Simple design. Very reliable.”
He turned the weapon slowly.
“Seven-point-six-two millimeter cartridge.”
“Gas-operated system. Strong internal mechanism.”
“Sand, mud, heat—does not matter.”
He smiled faintly.
“Good weapon for this environment.”
More crates were opened.
Dozens of identical rifles.
Boxes of ammunition stacked beside them.
AK-pattern rifles.
The salesman continued his explanation calmly, as if presenting a set of tools.
“Easy to train men with these.”
“Cheap to maintain and very effective.”
The man in black listened without giving any expression.
Then he signaled to one of the guards.
A heavy metal chest was carried forward.
When it was opened, gold bars gleamed inside.
The salesman crouched and lifted one carefully, weighing it in his hand.
Satisfied.
He nodded toward the helicopter pilot.
The deal was accepted.
Nearby, eight children were brought forward.
They were told to board the helicopter.
The boy stood near the storage building, watching everything.
His mind moved slowly through the pieces.
The trucks earlier.
The gold.
The rifles.
The helicopter.
The missing children.
The pattern was clear now.
The gold paid for the weapons.
The children paid for the gold.
Everything was part of the same exchange.
But who would give gold for mere children , what was even going on here …?
Trade , Trafficking , & War profiting.
The man in black climbed into the helicopter behind the children , soon the rotors began spinning faster and faster every second making the boy more and more nervous .
Dust filled the air again , the boy watched silently as the helicopter began to lift itself up in the air .
For the first time, the truth settled clearly inside his mind.
This place was not home.
It was a marketplace.
And he had been living inside it — Unaware .
Beyond the canyon walls, war continued to spread across the desert.
And now the man who had raised them was going to leave now .
The boy looked toward the open desert beyond the canyon entrance.
Running away could mean death , but staying meant something far more sinister could happen at any moment .
For the first time in his life, he began to think seriously about escape …
He thought for a moment , in desperation his mind moved faster than normal , a boy merely 12 would panic , but strangely enough his expressions seemed to indicate that he was calm and more so — calculating .
And soon he found a way to get away …
