Chapter Three
In the early summer, under the scorching heat, I woke up with a throbbing headache. The humidity clung to my skin in a way that was both irritating and disappointing.
"I thought I'd gotten past this... What a thrilling start to my first mission."
But I quickly realized that the lower half of my body wasn't the only part soaked in this damned humidity. My entire body was drenched, especially my chest and back, as if I had been sweating profusely. I jumped out of bed in a rush, desperate to escape the suffocating heat.
I wasn't the only one; everyone around me seemed to be melting in this stifling atmosphere. It felt like I had sweat out all the fluids in my body. The air was thick with the oppressive heat of the sun and the unpleasant smell of sweat.
"I regret every promise I made... Where am I even headed? What kind of fool have I become?"
The heat was merciless and arrogant, and the rooms had turned into ovens that cooked even the souls inside them.
Some of us were divided into foot patrols and vehicle patrols using half-ton pickup trucks equipped with PK machine guns. Those who could operate this type of weapon were assigned to the vehicle patrols. I was an infantryman, so I rotated between the foot patrols and vehicle patrols from time to time.
We gathered around the flag in three groups, each with around twenty members or less. This time, Nikolai was among the thirty who would join the first vehicle patrol, composed mostly of new recruits to familiarize them with the mission types.
There were three drivers from the local police, four machine gunners, three snipers, and twenty infantrymen. Weapons were distributed according to role, and the objectives of the mission were given. The patrol would leave the camp and head toward a nearby village, passing through a series of hills and rough terrain, searching for any suspicious activity.
As Nikolai prepared to climb into one of the vehicles, I looked at him and said, "Good luck."
He glanced at me and smiled with a nod.
The men were spread out, some inside the vehicles and others behind them. The machine gunners mounted their weapons. The patrol leader climbed into a small jeep, the second in line, and they set off, kicking up dust behind them. We watched them drive away. The captain ordered us to return to our posts. Of course, I didn't know anyone except Nikolai, and now he was gone. I noticed that most of the volunteers were in their thirties or forties, except for a blond youth in his twenties with a scowl on his face. He sat on the steps of one of the caravans, glaring at me and those around him with disdain. The camp consisted of a few mud houses and some caravans used as barracks. Some rooms were designated as armories, along with a command and communications room, a dining hall, and a kitchen. There were two watchtowers at the main gate, and a dilapidated orchard to the north of the camp surrounded by a two-meter-high fence.
I was about to enter one of the caravans when the blond, short-haired youth called out,
"What's a pretty face like yours doing here, for heaven's sake?"
I took it as an attempt to provoke me and replied as I walked past,
"None of your business about the heavens."
I entered, sat on the side of my bed, and soon found him following me, sitting right in front of me. He stared at me with his pale blue eyes, his tanned, bronze-tinged face devoid of any good intentions. He laced his fingers beneath his chin and rested his elbows on his knees. After a moment, he said,
"I didn't know they allowed queers in the military… haha, I'm not trying to offend you, but for some people here, that's a blessing."
I glared at him and said,
"I don't think this is the right way to talk to someone you're meeting for the first time."
He scoffed and replied,
"Why? Should I bow and kiss your hand, milady?"
He laughed, and I wanted to punch him, but the sight of his forearm muscles that could easily land me in trouble made me reconsider. I thought carefully and said,
"I think the penalty for deviants is death under Oshpik law, or am I mistaken?"
"What do you mean... deviant?!"
"Didn't I tell you, genius, that your behavior gives off the impression that you're one of them?"
He scowled and grabbed me by the collar, about to throw a punch when a man in his forties shouted,
"Curse you, Boris! When will you stop your nonsense?"
Boris turned to him and said,
"Razil, what's it to you if this queer needs a bit of disciplining?"
"Queer? I don't see one. All I see is a handsome lad who's annoyed you for no reason. Don't even try it."
Razil said this with a friendly tone.
Boris growled,
"I'm not after anything, Razil. Show some respect."
He released me and walked away a bit, then returned, pointing at me and saying,
"Look, I don't know when you'll die, but I advise you to run... And let me tell you, those you've replaced weren't transferred like they say. They were killed in ambushes, and you'll see that soon enough, probably in your first patrol. And you'll be one of them."
As he was about to leave, I called out,
"Why are you still alive, then, hero?"
He caught my meaning and was about to lunge at me when Razil grabbed him by the shoulder, saying,
"Let him be. He doesn't know what you mean."
Boris shrugged off Razil's hand and stormed off, giving my heart a chance to calm down a little.
Razil sat in front of me and said,
"Sorry about what I said earlier, but I just wanted to provoke him so he'd leave you alone."
I nodded. "I understand, thanks."
Razil was stocky, with a large black mustache, and a dark complexion. He extended his hand, saying,
"I'm Razil Mursheed."
I shook his hand.
"Adam Opeet."
"Tell me, you don't look like someone from the southern region. Where are you from?"
"I'm from Opmania, actually... But tell me, what's Boris' deal?"
Razil chuckled.
"Hehe... Boris has his reasons."
"What do you mean?"
"He simply hates new recruits. He hates the idea of continuing this."
"Why me specifically? And what do you mean by 'this'?"
Razil laughed.
"Maybe he's taken a liking to your eyes…"
"…"
"Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Adam... Welcome to the Second Vengeance Battalion." He stood and left.
'Second?'
'Now it seems like the Battalion of the Conflicted.'
Nikolai finally returned in the evening. They had brought back some logistical supplies like vegetables and canned goods. I hugged him, telling him everything that had happened, and in turn, he told me what they had encountered, which wasn't that bad.