The West Taiga, mid-August 2404, was a breathtaking expanse of nature, where towering larch trees stood sentinel with their reddish-brown bark and vibrant green needles. As autumn approached, these needles would transform into stunning golden yellows, painting the landscape in warm hues.
Alam, reunited with Eleanor, was on a journey from Xian to Carpathia. Their mission: to discuss crucial supply issues with Carmelita, a key figure in the Wanderer network. The journey was meant to be a simple paperwork mission. They traveled in a heavily armed Hind helicopter, a reliable workhorse of the True Horde air force, accompanied by a small escort.
Eleanor, ever the vigilant observer, squinted at the radar screen. “Something’s wrong with the radar,” she announced, her voice laced with concern.
Before anyone could react, the helicopter jolted violently as a surface-to-air missile struck.
“What? But we’re friendly! Traitors!” Alam exclaimed, incredulity etched across his face.
“Sir, we’re going for an emergency landing!” the crew shouted, urgency in their voices.
The Hind helicopter deployed flares, desperately trying to distract the second missile. The crew held their breath, praying for a miracle. The second missile was indeed diverted, but a third missile was already in the air.
“Incoming missile!” Eleanor warned, her eyes wide with alarm.
The helicopter shuddered again as the third missile struck, this time hitting the tail.
“We’re losing power and control! Hang on!” Eleanor shouted, gripping her seat as the helicopter spiraled downwards.
With a deafening crash, the Hind came to rest in the forest, surrounded by the towering larch trees that now seemed to loom ominously over them.
“Hahh... everyone okay?” Alam asked, his voice shaky as he surveyed the wreckage.
The crew slowly emerged from the wreckage, shaken but miraculously alive.
“Somehow, we all survived, sir,” one crew member reported, disbelief coloring his tone.
“Thanks, Gott! Let’s get out of here; they’ll send someone to hunt us,” Alam urged, scanning the treeline for any signs of danger.
As they began to move, Alam noticed one of the crew limping. “You okay, man?” he asked, concern creeping into his voice.
“Sir, I think I can’t walk anymore,” the injured crewman admitted, leaning against a tree for support.
“Come on, man. We’ll get out of here together,” Alam insisted, determination in his eyes.
“Sorry, sir. I can’t... It hurts. Just go,” the crewman replied, his voice heavy with resignation.
With a heavy sigh, Alam approached him. “Here, take my pistol,” he said, handing it over.
“Thanks, sir,” the crewman said, a flicker of hope in his eyes.
“Don’t thank me. Just aim at the enemy,” Alam instructed, his tone firm.
“Yeah, I’ll kill them all... Heh,” the injured crewman replied, a weak smile breaking through his pain.
Alam and the remaining crew started to move, navigating through the dense forest. “First, we’ll head to the nearby river and follow the stream to a settlement,” he planned, but just then, gunshots rang out in the distance.
“Damn! They’re coming! Quick, double time!” Alam shouted, adrenaline surging through him.
The crew sprinted between the trees, hearts pounding, when suddenly a dog barked nearby.
“We need to take care of that first... Form a line!” Alam commanded, his voice steady despite the chaos.
As the crew formed a line, three dogs emerged from the underbrush. “Shoot!” Alam ordered.
Two dogs fell, but one lunged at a crew member. Alam reacted instinctively, shooting the dog just in time.
“Ahh, thanks, sir,” the crewman gasped, relief flooding his voice.
“Not yet! There are enemies!” Alam warned, spotting armored men opening fire on them. The crew’s bullets ricocheted off the armored foes.
“Damn! Disengage!” Alam shouted, leading the surviving crew away.
“Ahh... hhh...” Alam panted as they ran, but soon he realized only three crew members remained with him.
“I love you guys. Let’s separate in multiple directions. We have a better chance to survive,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion.
The crew, panting heavily, nodded in agreement. “One last request from me, as your leader and comrade,” Alam said, removing his jacket and pants.
He switched clothes with one of the crew members, who now looked like their great leader. “There’s a little chance they’ll think you’re me. Are you sure you want to become bait?” Alam asked.
“Sir, anything for you,” the crewman replied, determination shining in his eyes.
“Good. I’m proud to have you all in my command,” Alam said, his heart swelling with gratitude.
As they prepared to separate, the crew saluted him, and Alam returned the gesture. They split up, each taking a different path through the forest.
But the chaos didn’t end there. An enemy, hidden in the trees, killed one crew member.
“Ahh! I got the leader! I win this hunt!” the archer shouted, reveling in his victory.
Alam kept running until he reached the riverside, panting heavily. “Hah. Hah...” he gasped, but then he heard a whistle. Turning, he aimed his weapon at an armed man. In a split second, Alam’s bullet struck the man’s mask, but the armored foe retaliated, hitting Alam in the shoulder and hip.
Alam was thrown into the river, the cold water enveloping him as he struggled to stay afloat.
“Ahh! That was a good one!” the armored man called out, but he hesitated, hearing over the radio that someone resembling Alam had been captured. He decided to stop chasing the real Alam.
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Dragged by the current, Alam managed to resurface, swallowing painkillers as he limped along the riverbank. After a few kilometers, he spotted a group of fishermen. Desperate, he tried to shout for help, but his voice was too weak. Instead, he aimed his gun at the sky, hoping to attract their attention, but he quickly realized he might draw the hunters instead.
“Khen aru?” one fisherman called out, noticing Alam’s distress.
“Aa...a...” Alam could only point at his wounds, his vision blurring.
The fisherman approached, speaking in a language Alam didn’t understand, but the concern in his eyes was clear. Soon, a crowd gathered around Alam, their faces a mix of shock and curiosity. As Alam’s strength waned, he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness.
When he finally awoke, he found his wounds bandaged and a figure approaching the tent.
“Ahhh... how long was I out?” Alam croaked, trying to sit up.
“You’ve been passed out for a day. We found you by the river current. You have a bad wound and a high fever,” the fisherman replied, his deep voice resonating with authority.
“I see... do you have telecommunication?” Alam asked, his mind racing.
“We have a shortwave radio, but there’s been no response,” the fisherman gestured to an old radio sitting in the corner of the tent.
“Uh... why? Does it need a high signal?” Alam inquired, his brow furrowing.
“Yes, the radio needs enough wave signal for long-distance contact, but even in this region, the signal is weak,” the fisherman explained, glancing at Alam’s injuries with concern.
Alam lay on the riverbank, wincing as he adjusted his position. The crash of his helicopter still echoed in his mind, a reminder of the chaos that had brought him here. “Did you hear the helicopter crash nearby? Maybe other hunters?” he asked, trying to gauge his surroundings.
The fisherman shook his head, his expression serious. “Only you and your strange gun have landed here. We’ve looked around the river, but there’s no sign of anyone else.” He set down his wooden cup of tea and approached Alam’s wounds without asking for permission.
“Ahh, have you already pulled the bullet, sir?” Alam inquired, a hint of hope in his voice.
The fisherman nodded, pulling out a dagger and preparing to cut away the fabric around Alam's injuries.
“AAAA! What?! Just... huh, at least give a warning, heh!” Alam exclaimed, his heart racing as the fisherman’s blade neared his skin.
The fisherman paused, raising his palm in a gesture of apology before continuing his work.
“Okay, okay, please continue,” Alam said, swallowing some pills to steady himself. “I think I’m ready.”
With a nod, the fisherman resumed, deftly cutting the cloth and extracting the bullet with practiced ease. He then applied herbs to the wounds, chanting softly in a native tongue as he worked.
Alam blinked a few times, taken aback by the fisherman’s calm demeanor amidst the chaos. “Thank you... now,” he said, inspecting his hip. “I think this bullet just went through my body.”
After finishing his ritual, the fisherman poured fresh water into his palm and offered it to Alam. “Drink,” he instructed, then sat back to observe.
Alam coughed, the water refreshing yet startling. “So much to tell... but for now, thank you. Let me rest for a while.”
The fisherman nodded and stood up, taking away the empty bucket. Soon, a group of curious men and women gathered, watching Alam from a distance.
“Hey, wanna chocolate? Can you speak English or Mandarin? Russian, perhaps?” Alam called out, realizing he was still in his military gear, which felt out of place.
After a few moments of silence, a young woman with long dark hair stepped forward, her tan skin glowing in the sunlight. “Yes, I can speak English and Mandarin, but this place is so old; we prefer our native language.”
“I'm Alam. Have you heard or seen any soldiers around?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.
The girl looked surprised by the question. “You mean like the army or militia? In the north, we’ve heard there’s conflict. We haven’t heard much about this region. Is it also under conflict?”
“No... I think not for now. My helicopter crashed around here,” Alam replied, his tone serious.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Do you have other teammates? Or maybe just you?” she asked, concern creeping into her voice.
“I... have no idea,” Alam admitted, feeling the weight of uncertainty.
“So you crashed in this area alone? If you don’t mind me asking, what happened before you crashed?” she pressed.
“Hmmm... A missile hit us,” Alam said, looking down.
The girl was momentarily speechless, then took a deep breath. “I see... so are you military personnel?”
“Yeah, sort of... heh,” Alam replied, trying to lighten the mood.
“And the missile that hit you, was it from the enemy army?” she inquired, her eyes wide with curiosity.
“Ehem... I don’t know. It was just so sudden,” Alam said, feeling the tension in the air.
“Aah... I see. May I know your destination? Did you come here to get close to enemy territory, or is there another reason?” she asked, her interest piqued.
“Yes, I’m going to China, Xian. Have you heard of it before?” Alam asked, hoping for a connection.
The girl’s eyes widened. “Yes, I know that place. It’s a large city and the capital of Shaanxi province.”
“Bingo! So tell me, why is it so quiet here? Can you contact the outside world besides the radio?” Alam pressed, eager for information.
“Oh no... that radio is an antique. For the last decade, no one has ever responded to it. Why do you need outside contact so much? There’s no signal in this area. It’s hard to connect outside, and to reach outside, we need a long-distance radio,” she explained, her curiosity growing.
“Yes, I need to contact my friend,” Alam replied, feeling the urgency of his situation.
“Hmmm... that’s hard. The long-distance radio is almost impossible... unless you travel to the city to reach it,” she said, contemplating how to assist him.
“After I fully heal, I will try leaving,” Alam said, determination creeping into his voice.
“I see. You can stay here at our encampment during your recovery, for a small fee, of course. How many days do you estimate you’ll need to fully heal?” she offered, her tone shifting to one of practicality.
alam Groan..”. I don’t have money now. How about a letter of debt instead? You can exchange it for money while in the city,” Alam proposed, hoping for a solution.
The girl looked surprised but thoughtful. “Well, since you are military personnel... I’ll trust you. You can stay here while you recover. You can do small jobs around here to pay back your debt. But you don’t need money for now. Just focus on your recovery.”
Alam settled into the warmth of the tent, grateful for the respite from the cold outside. He turned to the girl beside him, a soft smile breaking through his weariness. “Thank you. May I know your name?”
The girl looked up, her face lighting up with a smile. “I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. My name is Nalin.”
“Nalin... That’s a cute name,” Alam replied, his tone light and friendly.
Nalin blushed slightly, shaking off her shyness. “It’s good to know you, Alam. I hope I can make your recovery as comfortable and smooth as possible.”
“Thanks, Nalin. And who is that old man who brought me here? The fisherman dude?” Alam asked, curiosity piqued.
Nalin chuckled at the mention of the old fisherman. “His name is Hulan. He’s very old and knows many things. Sometimes his actions seem strange, but he usually gets the job done. We trust him for many things.”
“Okay, Nalin. Bring me some water and a meal. I’ll rest now,” Alam instructed, settling back against the cushions.
Nalin nodded and turned to two boys nearby. “You two, bring fresh water to Alam and some food.”
The boys nodded eagerly and dashed off to fulfill her request. Alam sighed contentedly, closing his eyes for a moment.
After a couple of hours, the boys returned with a steaming bowl of soup and a wooden bucket of fresh water. As they set the meal down, Alam heard whispers outside the tent. Curiosity got the better of him, and he cracked open an eye to see what was happening.
A small crowd had gathered, their faces a mix of curiosity and suspicion. They whispered among themselves, glancing at Alam and then back at each other. Some of the girls blushed, while the boys looked on with wide eyes, clearly surprised by his presence.
“Hmm. I don’t understand. My skin isn’t that different from theirs,” Alam mused to himself.
One girl, gathering her courage, stepped forward cautiously. She peeked through the tent flap, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and curiosity. “May I ask, which kingdom or country do you come from?” she whispered.
Alam blinked, taken aback by her directness. “Hnn... True Horde Confederation,” he replied, his voice steady.
The girl’s expression shifted dramatically, her smile fading into a frown. She tilted her head, suspicion creeping into her gaze. “Do you mean you are a member of the Red Nation army?” she whispered, leaning closer.
“No, we’re different, dear,” Alam assured her, trying to ease her concerns.
Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she seemed to wrestle with her thoughts. Finally, she nodded, a hint of relief washing over her. “I see... that is a relief. But why would someone from outside the kingdom come this far?”
Alam shrugged, a playful smile on his lips. “I don’t know... Why?”
The girl looked at him, her curiosity piqued again. “How old are you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Im... kinda 27,” Alam replied, gauging her reaction.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “You’re almost twice my age!” she exclaimed, a blush creeping across her cheeks.
“Ha, right,” Alam chuckled, enjoying the banter. “And you?”
“I’m 16 years old. I’m one of the oldest in my village,” she said, her voice softening.
“Interesting,” Alam said, leaning back. “So, do your parents live nearby?”
At the mention of her parents, the girl’s expression shifted. She looked down, her voice trembling slightly. “My parents got separated when the enemy army came. My dad was captured, and my mom... she was killed. I don’t remember my dad’s face.”
Alam’s heart sank at her words. “I’m sorry to hear that. Who takes care of you now?”
She hesitated, her gaze fixed on the ground. “Right now, Hulan uncle takes care of us. He’s the oldest man in this encampment and acts as our community leader.”
“I see,” Alam said, patting her head gently.
Nalin blushed fiercely at the gesture, pulling back slightly but unable to hide her smile. She looked at him, her shyness returning. “Thank you, Alam. I hope you recover quickly.”
“Me too,” Alam replied, closing his eyes again,
Nalin leaned closer, her curiosity piqued. “So, what about you? Do you have any siblings?”
Alam chuckled lightly, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. “Aha, yeah, kinda. I’m the youngest of three brothers.”
A smile spread across Nalin’s face at the mention of his birth order. “Are you close with your older brothers? Or are you the typical younger sibling who always gets bossed around?”
“No, we fought a lot when we were young,” Alam replied, a playful glint in his eyes.
Nalin laughed, her amusement infectious. “So you probably always lost those fights, right?”
“Ha! You could say that,” Alam said, closing his eyes for a moment, relishing the lighthearted banter. “Oh yeah, what’s your name again?”
Nalin giggled, her confidence shining through. “My name is Nalin. You know that already.” She paused, her tone shifting to a more intimate whisper. “Can I ask you something more?”
“Last question,” Alam replied, intrigued.
Nalin nodded eagerly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Why are you so big and strong? Is it because you’re trained as a military personnel, or are you just naturally built like that?”
Alam smirked, “I’m actually not that bulky. Did you know there’s someone who’s twice my size?”
Nalin’s eyes widened in disbelief. “N-no! How can that be possible? That person must be enormous!”
“World is vast, Nalin. Someday you’ll see how diverse we are,” Alam said, a hint of mystery in his tone.
Nalin nodded, her curiosity still bubbling. “May I ask, do you have a girlfriend? I heard military personnel never have time for personal things.”
Alam hesitated, a playful smile creeping onto his face. “I... kinda have that, I guess. I don’t know.”
Nalin’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Really? So it’s kinda your girlfriend then? If you don’t mind, may I ask her name?”
“Hmn... It’s a secret,” Alam winked.
Nalin blushed deeply, her surprise evident. “You tease me! So you refuse to tell me her name? That means you’re really close, right?”
“Ha! Anyway, I need sleep. Let’s continue this later,” Alam said, stifling a yawn.
Nalin’s cheeks flushed even more at the thought of continuing their conversation. She glanced back at the encampment, then turned to him with a shy smile. “You have very beautiful hair. It looks soft and shiny.”
Her compliment caught her off guard, and she quickly looked away, embarrassed. After a moment, she retreated to her tent, whispering to herself, her heart racing.
As Alam drifted off to sleep, he occasionally groaned and squirmed, the remnants of their conversation lingering in his mind.