– Bring them here,” the masked man replied. He put the documents in the back pocket of his pants, and the “Logist” carefully examined and threw him to the ground with all his might, so that he shattered into several pieces. After that, the leader kicked the monitor a few more times to make sure that the device was finally broken.
– You two get in the first car, Eric and I will drive the second one! – The masked man ordered his subordinates, pointing at each of them in turn.
– What are we going to do with the boys? – asked one of the bandits.
– They'll come with us, we'll decide later. We've done enough damage here already. It's time to get out of here! – replied the gang leader.
The group split into pairs, and the bandits took the front seats in the stolen cars. The body of the dead driver was thrown out of the car and they headed into the desert, turning off the main road. Michael looked out the rear window of the car. George continued to lie motionless, bleeding more and more by the minute. His eyes were closing and his gaze was fading. The cars were moving away, leaving shallow tracks in the sand behind them. George's body drifted farther and farther out of Michael's field of vision until it was no longer visible.
The desert. You can't see anything but her. How could anyone navigate this place? Michael still didn't understand: How could he get out? How to help his father? Was he even alive? And how to get back home? During the ride, he took a closer look at the boy sitting next to him. He was quite sturdy for his age, with short hair, wearing a T-shirt and shorts, and a backpack with a giant sign that said “Fighting” under his feet.
– Hey, what's your name? – Michael asked the boy in a whisper.
– Theodore. – Theodore answered just as quietly. It was obvious that he wasn't afraid, or hid his fear well. It gave some confidence to Michael, seeing how the younger hostage was holding up in a difficult situation.
Michael: “How did they stop you? Where did they get the guns from?”
In front, the two thugs were also talking to each other. One of them, turned half-turned to the boys and shouted: “Shut up, you little brats! Or I'll rip your tongues out!” Then he continued his dialog with the driver:
– I hate kids! What the hell do you need them for, Reno?