George: “It's an auto.”
The policeman looked out of the window and looked at the car, formally inspecting the car.
Policeman: “Your papers.”
Michael held out his personal cards to him. The police officer scanned them, then handed them back to the boy.
Policeman: “You can go now.”
George: “Thank you officer, have a good day.”
The barrier turned green and went up. The path was open and the car moved on, following the designated route. After a while, having traveled about 150 km, the transporters stopped in a large village at the gas station through which their route passed. Both got out of the car while the gas station attendant filled the tank with fuel.
– Well, are you ready? – George put his hand on Michael's shoulder.
Michael: “Sure!”
George: “Then get behind the wheel. You drive from here. Just don't drive too fast! You know my rules.”
Michael nodded, then opened the door and got into the driver's seat. George settled into the front passenger seat and leaned back, taking the Logiste in his hands.
George: “All right, let's go, no need to linger at the transfer points. We're wasting time. After the parking lot, turn immediately to the right. Gerri has changed the route as there will be a traffic jam ahead. Probably some kind of accident.”
Michael adjusted the seat, started the car, shifted gears, and they headed in a new direction.
George: “It's a dirt road that runs parallel to the main highway. According to the map, we should get onto the main highway just after the jam.”
The quality of the road was terrible. It was strewn with small stones and shallow potholes. The weather was sunny and dry, which made it easy to navigate due to good visibility and no impassable mud. On the right side of the road was a vast desert without a single plant, and on the left side of the road could be seen the nearest residential buildings belonging to the village from which the carriers had left. Rain was a luxury for this region. Michael moved slowly, afraid of damaging the wheels and suspension of the car. The bypass was only eight kilometers long, and it was rarely used, so there was not much time to wait. Given the poor quality of the roadway, the low popularity of its use was understandable.
A passenger car appeared ahead, standing on the side of the road. It was surrounded by a group of three men. They were dressed in tattered and torn clothes and armed with metal cylinders about 50-70 centimeters long. The group behaved aggressively and occasionally hit the body of the car with their weapons.