The Peregrines

Chapter 13

{Video is mine}

{ Edited - 5th Sep, 2021 }
{ Edited - 8th May, 2024 }

The horses that had fallen behind were far from our sight as the soldiers instructed us to veer off the main road onto a narrow farm lane. It was barely wider than a footpath, just a few feet across, so the soldiers who had been riding next to us had to leave their jeep behind and proceed on foot, with one leading and two following. The fields on both sides of us were overgrown with wild plants, blooming with colourful weeds and buzzing with insects in the late summer.

A beautiful place to die.

Eventually, we spotted a thatch-roofed shack on the outskirts of the fields. I couldn't help but think, 'This is where it will happen. This is where they will end us.' As we approached, a soldier emerged from the shack, dressed distinctively from the others with a black-brimmed officer's hat and a holstered revolver instead of a helmet and rifle.

This one was in charge.

As we got closer, he stood in the lane, swaying back and forth on his heels with a big smile on his face. "We meet at last!" he called out. "You've given us quite the go-round, but I knew we'd catch you in the end. Only a matter of time!"

He had chubby, youthful features, and fine hair that was incredibly blond, and he exuded an odd, enthusiastic vibe, reminiscent of an overly-energetic Boy Scout leader. However, whenever I gazed at him, all I could ponder was:

Animal.

Monster.

Murderer.

"Come in, come in," the officer said, pulling open the shack's door. "Friends of yours are waiting inside." As we were pushed by his soldiers, I managed to see the name embroidered on his shirt: WHITE.

Like the colour?

Mister White?

A joke, maybe?

Nothing about him seemed genuine; that least of all.

We were forcefully ushered inside and herded into a corner. The single room of the shack was devoid of furniture and packed with individuals. Bekhir and his companions were seated on the ground, backs against the walls.

They had clearly been mistreated; showing signs of bruises, bleeding, and defeat in their postures. Some were absent, including Bekhir's son. Two additional soldiers stood watch, bringing the total to six, alongside Mr. White and our escorts.

Bekhir caught my attention and nodded solemnly. His cheeks were marked with purple bruises. 'I'm sorry,' he silently mouthed to me. Mr. White noticed our interaction and hurried over to Bekhir. "Aha! You recognize these children?"

"No," Bekhir said, looking down.

"No?" Mr White feigned shock. "But you apologized to that one. You must know her unless you make a habit of apologizing to strangers?"

"Mr White, if that's your name, it has come to my attention that I noticed the lack of knowledge you possess. This man here is probably apologising to us because he feels sorry for us to be involved in this kind of shit that you have dragged us here for," I said, unable to keep my mouth shut for a little longer, my agitation running on thin ice, if I wasn't careful enough, no doubt that I'd be in trouble.