Phantom Rider: The Aftermath | Book 1

Everything is Connected

Year 1996, Russia

Kathrin drove the car deep into the forest, glancing over her shoulder to check if anyone was following. Little Bill slept in the backseat, while the wind whistled through the broken car windows, making them both shiver from the cold.

She stopped at a small, old wooden house in the middle of the forest. The light was on inside, someone was waiting for them. Sergei emerged from the house and hurried over. "Do you need help?"

"I'm fine! Take the kid, please!" Kathrin pointed to the backseat. Sergei carefully lifted Bill and carried him into the house, welcomed by the warmth of the stove and the comforting aroma of mint tea.

"Where's the other one?" Sergei asked concerned.

"He wasn't there. He's probably in another facility. Can Bill lead us to him?" Sergei glanced at the child.

"We can't ask him to do that. He's been through so much. We'll find Tom ourselves, okay?" Kathrin hugged Sergei.

"Okay, my sweet foxy. We'll do it your way." Sergei smiled at her, his warm brown eyes reflecting the light from the fireplace. He looked different from his older self - athletic, with no scars, longer, wavy hair, and a woolen jumper that made him appear warm and caring. He was still pure and unscarred by life.

"You look like a bunny!" Kathrin laughed, her melodic laughter transforming the humble hut into a home.

"You and your weird ideas. I'm not a bunny, I'm a bear!" Sergei flexed his arm muscles in playful pride, laughing along with her.

Their laughter and joking eased the tension of an exhausting day.

Bill woke up, drenched in sweat and trembling with fear. He looked around, disoriented. "Mommy!" he cried. Sergei, entering with a basket of firewood, noticed Bill's fear and paused.

"Hey, don't be scared!" Sergei spoke gently in German.

He saw that Bill looked extremely pale, his eyes dark and sagging, sweat beading on his forehead.

"Bill, I'm here to help you get home. Your mom and dad are waiting for you. No one will hurt you anymore, okay?" he slowly said to him.

Bill pressed himself against the cabin's wooden wall, shivering from fear and cold.

"Are you cold?" Sergei asked.

"Yes, I'm cold," Bill replied through chattering teeth.

"May I touch your forehead?" He asked softly. When Bill didn't respond, Sergei placed his palm on the boy's forehead, which was burning with fever.

"You have a temperature," He said, setting the firewood in the fireplace to warm the room. "I'll make you some tea. Try to get some rest, okay?"

Bill's gaze wandered to the guns mounted on the walls.

"Are you a murderer?" he asked, his voice trembling.

"No, kid. I'm like those superheroes in comics - fighting evil men and bears. I'm here to protect you." Sergei smiled reassuringly.

Bill relaxed slightly.

Kathrin had already left to find Tom. Without phones or any means of communication, Sergei had to trust that everything would go as planned.

A week passed. Bill's fever gradually subsided, and he improved day by day. Sergei spent most of his time cooking and keeping the house warm. Bill was constantly hungry, eating more than him, which was a good sign.

With little to do in the house, Bill grew bored quickly and he tired Sergei with endless questions, intrigued by everything he did. So he taught him how to make a fire, showed him his guns, and explained their uses. He even let Bill try shooting. The boy's excitement was neverending. Sergei set up a target out of wooden pieces at a safe distance in the forest. Bill spent hours trying to hit it.