As Rio inched closer to the window, he peered inside the cottage. The interior was simple yet functional, much like the one he had seen earlier. A table stood in the center of the room, around which the three men were seated.
Man 1, the instigator of the plan to leave, sat with a stern expression, his eyes darting around the room as if expecting trouble. Man 2, a bald individual, seemed to be the most agitated of the group. He wasted no time in gulping down the whiskey that Man 3, a more reserved man with a thoughtful look, poured for him.
The atmosphere in the room was tense, with the men exchanging few words but their body language speaking volumes. Rio knew he had to be careful not to be spotted as he continued to observe their movements.
As Rio watched, the tension in the room escalated. Man 1 slammed his fist on the table, causing the glasses to rattle. He pointed towards the door, his voice filled with determination.
"We're leaving, and no one is going to stop us," he declared, his voice loud and commanding.
Man 2 nodded eagerly, his bald head gleaming in the dim light. "We can't stay here any longer. It's not safe."
Man 3, however, remained silent, his gaze fixed on the table. He seemed conflicted, torn between loyalty to the group and a sense of duty.
Rio could sense the urgency in their voices.
Man 1 slumped in his chair, exhaustion etched on his face. "I'm fed up with this life, always grounded, constantly having my blood drawn, and transforming into a monster. It's unbearable."
Man 3, the most composed of the three, leaned forward. "We must approach this with caution. While I share your desire to leave, we require the medicine from the doctor to manage our condition. Running off impulsively could be disastrous."
Man 2, his bald head gleaming under the dim light, slammed his glass on the table. "I'd rather meet my end than remain trapped in this place. We need to escape, now!"
Man 2's voice dripped with resentment. "I didn't sign up for this. The company brought us here, treating us like lab rats, and now expects us to be grateful for scraps of life."
Man 3, his tone more composed, countered, "We can't change the past. The company is our lifeline. Without their medicine, we're doomed. We must cooperate if we want to survive."
Man 1's voice was tinged with regret. "I was practically forced onto that plane. If it weren't for my wife insisting I come to her birthday, I would never have been on that flight. Then I wouldn't have vanished along with everyone else."
Man 3 nodded in understanding. "We all had our reasons for being on that plane. Now, we're all here, in this time. We've had to adjust to the radiation and the atmosphere of this era to survive."
The confirmation of their identities as passengers missing for three hundred years sent a chill down Rio's spine. He watched them closely, trying to understand their dynamics and the mystery surrounding Batho's uniqueness among them. As the men grumbled and drank, Rio's mind raced with questions.
Why was Batho different? What set him apart from the others?
The men's discontent with their current lives hinted at a deeper, unresolved issue—one that Rio was determined to uncover. The flickering light from the cottage cast eerie shadows, enhancing the mysterious atmosphere of the night.
As Rio's eyes darted between the men inside the cottage, a creeping sense of unease settled over him. His instincts warned him of impending danger, but before he could react, a looming shadow enveloped him from behind. A swift, brutal blow struck the back of his head, sending waves of excruciating pain radiating through his skull. His vision swirled and dimmed, swallowing him in a deep, engulfing darkness.
As Rio teetered on the edge of consciousness, the world around him seemed to warp and twist. The voices, like distant echoes from another realm, danced around him, their words a cryptic melody that he struggled to decipher. Each word felt like a puzzle piece, teasingly close to fitting into place but ultimately eluding his grasp. The sensation was disorienting, like trying to catch smoke with bare hands.
The more he tried to focus, the more the voices seemed to slip away, leaving him adrift in a sea of confusion.
The whiskey splashed across Rio's face like a cold, sharp slap, jolting him back to consciousness. Its acrid taste lingered on his lips and mingled with the sweat on his brow, a stark contrast to the darkness that clouded his mind moments before.
Blinking away the haze, he struggled to focus, but the figures before him remained blurred and indistinct, like shadows dancing on the edge of his vision.
The man's grip on Rio's shirt was firm, his face looming dangerously close. "Why are you following us?" he demanded, his voice laced with suspicion. Recognition flickered in his eyes. "You're the one who was spying on us, who attacked us and then fled. Why have you come back?"
Rio strained to focus on the man's face, finally recognizing him as one of the men from the cottage. It was man 3, the one who had spoken about the company and their current situation.
Rio groaned, the taste of whiskey lingering on his lips as he tried to focus. The dimly lit room came into view, revealing the four figures before him. Three of them were the men from the cottage, their voices laced with discontent as they lamented their displacement in time. The fourth figure, a woman with disheveled hair, stood apart from the group, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Despite the throbbing pain in his head, Rio knew he needed answers. He forced himself to sit up, his gaze locking with the man who had grabbed him.
Rio struggled to find his voice, but when he spoke, his words were slow and strained.
Rio's mind raced, trying to piece together the events that had led him to this moment. He remembered following the men from the clearing, the scuffle, and then... darkness. He shook his head, trying to clear the fog.
"I... I don't remember," he admitted, his head pounding with each word. "I just... I need to know... about Batho."
The mention of Batho seemed to catch the group off guard. The woman exchanged a glance with the men, her expression unreadable. Man 3's grip loosened slightly, and he took a step back, his eyes narrowing as he studied Rio.
"Let's cut to the chase," said Man 2, his voice sharp with suspicion. "Why are you really looking for Batho?"
Rio cleared his throat, trying to sound convincing. "I work for Mr. Kagiso," he began, "and he sent me to find Batho."
Man 2 exchanged glances with the others, clearly skeptical. "If you're from Mr. Kagiso's staff, why did you run away earlier?" he questioned, his tone accusatory.
Rio hesitated, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. "I... I panicked," he stammered. "I saw you all and got scared."
Man 1 eyed him suspiciously. "Are you the one who rescued the butler earlier then?" he asked, probing for inconsistencies in Rio's story.
Rio shook his head. "No, that wasn't me," he replied quickly, hoping they wouldn't press him further on the matter.
As the flickering light from the fire danced across their faces, the group discussed Rio's fate in hushed tones.
"We can't just let him go," the woman insisted, her voice tense with worry. "He knows too much. We should take him to Dr. Rega."
Man 3 leaned back, his eyes searching the shadows. "No, we can't risk exposing ourselves. We need to think this through."
Man 1, the most vocal of the group, nodded in agreement. "For now, let's keep him here. We'll figure out what to do with him later."
Rio, listening intently, realized the gravity of his situation.
Rio knew he had to tread carefully. He observed the group closely, noting their dynamics. Man 3 appeared to be the voice of reason, someone who could be swayed with the right argument. The others seemed more impulsive but willing to follow Man 3's lead.
Gathering his thoughts, Rio formulated a plan. He needed to convince them that turning him in would only bring more trouble. Slowly, he began to speak, choosing his words carefully to appeal to their sense of self-preservation.
"Listen," he began, his voice calm yet firm. "Turning me in won't solve anything. It will only draw unwanted attention to all of us. We need to handle this situation quietly and carefully. Trust me, I can help you, but we need to work together."
Man 1 frowned, clearly skeptical. "And why should we trust you?"
Rio paused, weighing his words. "Because I know things. Things that could help us all if we work together. But if you turn me in, you'll never find out."
The group exchanged wary glances, considering Rio's words. Man 3, in particular, seemed to be swayed by Rio's logic. After a tense moment of silence, he spoke.
"Fine," he said reluctantly. "We'll keep him here for now. But if he proves to be a threat, we won't hesitate to turn him in."
Rio nodded, knowing he had bought himself some time.
As they sat around the table, the glow of the dim light casting eerie shadows on their faces, Man 1 spoke up, his voice low but firm. "We should leave him here for tonight. There's no need to rush things."
Man 2, the one with the bald head, nodded in agreement. "Agreed. We can figure out what to do with him in the morning."
Before anyone could respond, there was a loud, urgent knock on the door, causing them all to jump in surprise. The sudden sound broke the tension in the room, and they all turned to look at each other, their faces filled with a mixture of fear and uncertainty.
Rio's heart leaped at the knock. Someone was outside looking for them. Their expressions saying more than words ever could. They knew who was outside, and they knew they were in deep trouble.
Man 3 gestured for Man 2 to hide behind a curtain, while he and the others went to answer the door. Rio complied, positioning himself where he could listen in on the conversation without being seen.
As the door creaked open, a beam of light sliced through the darkness, revealing two figures standing outside. One was Dr. Rega, his face stern and determined. The other was a woman, her features shrouded in the shadows.
"Good evening," Dr. Rega said, his voice betraying no emotion. "We need to talk."
Rega's vision went black as the curtain covered before him. From their voices, Rega knew Man 3 led the talk.
Rio's heart pounded in his chest as he listened to the muffled conversation outside. He strained to hear every word, knowing that his fate hung in the balance.
"What's the matter?" Man 3's voice was firm, but there was an underlying tension.
Dr. Rega's response was calm and measured. "I need everyone to stay together. Our hideouts have been exposed, and it's too risky for everyone to be dispersed throughout the forest."
There was a moment of silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire inside the cottage. Rio imagined the tense expressions on their faces as they deliberated their next move.
"We'll stay in this cottage for tonight, but that's it," Man 3 finally declared, his voice echoing the reluctance of the others.
Dr. Rega's tone grew more urgent. "The company will not tolerate rebellious behavior like this. If they find out, I will have no control over what they might do."
Man 3 remained resolute. "We are prepared to face any punishment, but we will not sleep in the clearing with the rest. We will join them once the sun rises."
There was a tense standoff, each side unwilling to back down. Rio could sense the gravity of the situation.
As the door closed, Rio let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He knew he had narrowly escaped being turned over to Dr. Rega. But now, he had to find a way to convince the group to trust him and help him uncover the truth behind their mysterious existence in this time.