Graham camped on the very outskirts of the town for the first night. He had the barest of all plans; camp and watch for the first day and night, journey as stealthy as best as all the James Bond movies had trained him for, and pray he wasn't shot on the way in. Once in the middle of town find the biggest Buddhist temple still standing and scrounge around for any fresh supplies and clue as to what has happened.
His hope was that at the rise of crisis the people would turn to religion as at the very least organiser of the masses and might still be camping in one of the temples. From there he might find someone who spoke English and perhaps safe rest for a night in a cot. Before he slept these thoughts were all he dreamed of for the coming day.
Dawn woke him like an impatient parent tugging at his eyelids. Slowly he rose from the ground and dismantled his camp- a tarp over a heavy branch. The plastic sheet whipped off the branch with a snap. The local launched from his crouching position with surprise, a hand gun held at waist level, his knuckles white, his hands shaking.
The two stood only 15 feet apart, but the distance seemed like miles to Graham. He felt his heart beat in his throat and tried to keep his breathing steady as he slowly rose his arms in the air, palms forward. He dared not take a step forward nor back, but remained in one place with his feet close together. He could swear he heard the echo of his knees knocking.
"I'm not here to hurt you friend." He said softly.
"trở nên xuống! trở nên xuống!" the local shouted, whatever spell he was under was broken by Graham speaking. He began pointing at the ground violently, his arm shaking with the effort. Graham tried to recall as much of the native tongue as he could but nothing came to mind, so he started to slowly walk where the man pointed.
He was about 10 feet away, had only taken a few steps, when the gun went off. It clicked sharply with the sound of cold steel colliding. All logical thought disappeared from Graham as he charged the man, suddenly too furious to contain whatever idea he had of self preservation. Something animalistic came out of him born from tribal times that could no longer be caged. As he charged he screamed in fury what could have sounded like a high pitch squeel, but to his ears expressed all the pain and heartache he had suffered for the past two weeks.
The knife seemed to appear like magic. One moment it was in the locals hand, the next it was in his. It had only seemed natural that he take it, the local had moved so slowly, with no real intent on doing harm. Graham's intent was clear as he buried the knife to the handle in the man's sternum.
Blood drolled from the man's face as his eyes grew wide.
A bubble of air pocketed in the blood on his chin.
Graham noticed the man had such soft skin.
A small tear appeared in the corner of the boy's eyes, but refused to fall.
It took a moment for Graham to realise that he was still screaming. Another to discover his jaw was strained from being clenched so tight, that his teeth had begun to hurt.
He released the knife and removed his hand from the boy's back. The boy collapsed onto the ground with a heavy thud, the sound ending as quickly as his life had left him.
Graham gave the boy a soft prod with his foot before he threw up the last of the previous evenings dinner. When he had nothing left to throw up but bile and stomach acid he began to throw that up too. He screamed through his tears and stared helplessly at the clear blue sky, uncaring of who might hear, finally to realise with morbid humor that it was such a clear and beautiful day to die. This thought only caused him to vomit whatever he had not managed to release before.
As the sun began to set he became more clear of his situation. He dared not search the boy in case what he might find be too tempting to leave with the body. Using nothing but his hands he started to dig a shallow grave, digging beside the corpse so that he would not have to move it far. He was getting exhausted and had only managed to dig enough that the boy might covered by the smallest amount of soil, but he would be covered.
Graham collected the last of what had not been pact previously and ran into the town, uncertain if he would be seen and uncaring, only hoping to run as far away as possible from the jungle and what it might contain. It seemed all too soon that night was falling. Graham found himself an outdoor foyer of a small building and crawled into a tiny ball, drawing his knees tight under his chin and holding his bag close to his body. He cried himself into a fitful sleep, his only words an apology repeated over and over again to a body that would not hear him.
He was seen. They took pity on him, and left him alone.
Part 3:
http://doesthemagkdrgn.livejournal.com/38876.html Part 2:
http://doesthemagkdrgn.livejournal.com/38258.html#cutid1 Part 1:
http://doesthemagkdrgn.livejournal.com/37890.html#cutid1