Chronicle:In the sands of Avarda, a fateful encounter

"Are we going to be alright?"

Her voice was barely audible over the engine of the Humvee. Huang wasn't quite sure himself. Through the aged glasses on his bridge and the thick glass of the vehicle, he looked outside. It was supposed to be an uneventful trip, considering the sheer emptiness of this part of the world. An ocean of sand, dunes upon dunes, with only the dirt road below to guide them.

Instead, he saw a pickup truck with a rather menacing machine gun bolted to its bed. Though the clouds of dust kicked up in its wake obscured it somewhat, he was certain that people in balaclavas didn't usually have goodwill in mind. His suspicions were made clear when that machine gun began pointing in their direction, abundantly clear as another similar vehicle rolled up on the opposite sides, gradually closing in to box the Humvee by its sides. "جنگ صلیبیهِ" was spraypainted on the vehicles - he wasn't sure what the barbaric language said, but he was fairly certain it wasn't anything flattering.

"How did they get this close without us noticing? Where are the drones?" Huang ignored the question, searching for answers of his own.

"I already told you this before we left, doctor. We have no coverage this far in." Jing's voice rose from behind. His presence in the expedition seemed comforting when they first departed, but he wasn't so sure now.

"Can we fight our way through?" Bai suggested. The fellow prospector gripped the rifle in his hands tightly, almost like he knew what he was doing.

"We don't have the numbers. Or firepower." Yao stated plainly with the usual surety in her voice, one which now grated at his dwindling optimism. She was the senior of the two people in the Humvee with any actual experience with combat, and she was busying herself with the satellite radio in her hands. That wasn't a good sign.

"Then, fighting is out." Huang mustered the best confident tone he could, and continued. "I'm sure it'll be fine. They look to be the criminal sort. Out for ransom, more than likely, so they won't do anything rash. Don't cause any trouble. I'll talk us out of this."

As the impromptu convoy crossed a fork in the road, two more trucks pulled in - one ahead, one behind. Huang tried to form a sensible sentence in his head as the procession forced the Humvee off the road. He regretted not memorizing enough Dhahabi now. Before long, the scant few landmarks of this desert faded behind them, and eventually, the vehicle ahead slowed, forcing him to stomp on the brakes. Scarved men scrambled out from the trucks, waving their rifles and knocking against the glass of the Humvee.

"Drop your weapons. Just stay calm." Huang was the first out, and he barely got a syllable out before somebody smashed his guts in with a rifle butt. "Out! Out!" The others scurried out with their hands on their head, and were thrown onto the ground in a slightly more polite manner. As Huang tried to get the sand out of his mouth, the scarved men thoroughly searched the Fengese present. Their phones were confiscated, and he suppressed a wince as he heard stomps crunching the devices. They were stranded enough as is.

Their arms were forced behind them and tied, bags thrown over their head as they were pulled upright and soon shoved onto a truck. He could hear others clamber on before the engine roared. They were off now.

"No moving! Move? I shoot!" It was heavily accented Sundish. Huang understood it barely better than the other option.

It would've taken hours before they got anywhere. Occasionally, somebody moved, more than likely because of the awful ride, and they were beaten for their troubles. He thought he heard the four others he'd brought on this expedition yelp in pain at least thrice by the time they reached their destination. Unceremoniously, they were dragged out again, the noise of vehicles quieting as the lingering stench of animals entered his senses. They hit the floor soon after.

Beginning with Huang, the bags over their head were removed, a dilapidated shack filled to the brim with rifle-toting men entering their vision. "Pl-" A timid voice squeaked from behind before Huang turned to shush her. Somebody walked over to bash her face in anyways.

"You are now prisoners of Guþsharjis!" The terrorist in the lead shouted as he cleaned the blood off his hands. "We know what your murtad country has done! Mikils af Guþ, repent and pay for your sins!"

The gags shoved into their mouths snuffed out any last chances at negotiation. Huang's brows furrowed in concern when he saw a camera stand being brought into the shack. Eyes collectively widened in alarm as the apparent leader called out to the men to his flanks, and two stepped in to drag Jing from the huddle. A dagger was drawn. He tried to fight back, but a boot to his liver brought him to the ground. Yanked by his hair and held in place by the rest, the blade dug into his cheek, then drew into his eye. He screamed. Yao and Bai gritted their teeth and shut their eyes. She screamed too.

I didn't think they were that close, was his final thought before he joined in the silence, trying to drown out the howls of suffering by thinking up some semblance of an escape plan. Nothing came up in the hours it took for the screams to stop.

How long has it been? Huang arose from a fitful sleep, pained eyes scanning the cramped quarters of their holding cell. Sunlight peered from the gaps in the sheet metal roof, casting a harsh glow across the grim surroundings. The man was gone now, but the browning patch of blood on the dusty floor remained. He looked to the rest remaining. Bai was muttering incoherently into his legs. ''That isn't good. Though... okay, at least she's resting now.'' Done with the two, he looked up.

Yao was trembling - not out of any fear for the dismal circumstances, but a righteous fury he hadn't expected from the taciturn woman. Ignoring the blood seeping from her wrists, Huang locked eyes, offering nods as she seethed muffled words from behind her gag. He didn't know what she was saying, but the message was clear.

The rays above turned orange, then faded into nothing. The time passed like seconds, yet the anticipation clawed at him all the same. He tensed at every stray noise he heard from beyond the shack's thin walls, but he finally got the signal as the noise of crunching sand echoed in, and Yao shifted into a running start. Huang followed suit. A shadow crept from below the door. Then, a man strolled in. He didn't look too concerned with the rifle in his hands, and as he turned to leave, she pounced.

Adrenaline flowed. Two grappled with one another on the ground. In the next split second, Huang leapt too. He caught a stray kick and crumpled onto the man. Against the pain, he tried to leverage his weight to hold him in place, though there wasn't much to begin with. Something inside him cracked when he caught a knee. He struggled nonetheless. Yao managed to get her legs around the man's neck, tightening the chokehold as Huang pulled in the opposite direction. In all the chaos, they didn't notice others scrambling into the shack.

A shot rang out.

Huang awoke from a pained daze. Gazing above, blinding light poured into his eyes, the same set of rays peering through the roof he'd become unwillingly accustomed to. He tried to get up, but failed. He could barely catch his breath as it was, as the vivid pain of what felt like - and probably were - various things stabbing into his insides stopped him from doing all but the simplest of motions. He shifted his chin. Bai, the bastard, was sleeping. He caught the worried stare of the only other person awake.

"Dad..." She had to lean close for her words to be intelligible. "...are you okay?"

He opened his mouth, but only a pained groan escaped him. That was enough of an answer. He looked away, sparing the sobbing Huang from a witness.

Yao was still there, but barely. Her legs were now bound, not that she could do much in her state now. Blood marred her uniform in a deep scarlet, though it appeared the wound in her gut had at least stopped spilling. He stared into her glazed eyes. Her shuddering breaths confirmed she was still alive. He questioned why she was even alive, after everything.

His question would be answered as the dreaded crunching of sand returned, and the scarved men entered the shack again. Lights, camera, action.

"Imma Kauriss, the murtads are punished for their wicked deeds! Now we send another to face His judgment!"

A bucket was plopped onto the floor, a disgusting stench wafting from it. Dragging the barely conscious Yao from her stupor, a blade came again and carved shallow channels across her skin. They rubbed pigshit in afterwards. ''Where did they even find pigs? Didn't all of them get slaughtered after the swine flu?'' It was a minor distraction against her agonized wails.

Huang thought it a mercy when the machete eventually came down.

At least he knew where the everpresent stench in the shack came from now. He couldn't be sure how much time had already passed since then. Days? There was a week, at least, probably. Weeks? He'd spent all his waking hours whispering nominal conversations - goodbyes mostly - with his daughter. Much of the rest was spent trying to sleep the days away, though even that was hard with the still-throbbing pain. It hadn't faded even after all that time, and in the heat, thirst and a creeping hunger threatened to kill him first.

He was in his final moments, certainly. He accepted his fate with grace, but what of the others?

First to go was the strong and brawny Jing. Then, his comrade-in-arms, Yao, followed. He looked to the two remaining survivors in his team with an indescribable finality in his mind. Bai was a cowering scoundrel, but he appeared fit enough from the outside, he reasoned. Then, himself. Then... his daughter.

At least he'd go before me. A mirthless smile crept up from the corner of his lips. The divine wrath of the Phoenix would inevitably fall upon the barbarians outside, but would it arrive soon enough, before they finished their cruel fun here? He resolved himself to survive, despite himself, despite his pain, despite everything. Perhaps the delay will work out in her favor.

Huang looked to the entering terrorists with indifference. It was a camera and a dagger, as per usual. It looked like they cleaned the dagger after the last one. Blade in, screams, jeers. He saw tears flow from her shut eyes. Was it pity for the man or fear for herself? As the screams turned into whimpers, scarved men dragged the two remaining Fengese to watch, removing their gags for the fateful moment.

"We know of the sins of the West! They sing praise to their false idol, and eat their fellow man's flesh in her wretched idol's name! With Kauriss watching, will they sin again?"

The two Huangs looked at one another. One, fearful. The other, acceptance. They soon shared the same look. She sank in. He couldn't move with his wounds, so she helped.

Like a mother crow to her babies.

The night was cold, and the clothing of the two remaining Fengese were tattered by their abuse. Both huddled together, sharing bare warmth between one another the best they could. Fingers were numb, half from cold, half from the loss of circulation. They both wished they could embrace one another in these last moments, but they had to make do with what little they had. She still wept even in her slumber. He whispered soft consolations into her ear.

Sand crunched. Huang looked up with tired eyes. There was just one man. No camera, no theatrics. Just a stained machete in hand. He strode forwards with arm outstretched.

''No, what are you doing? You're supposed to torture me first!''

All burned when the Fengese finally descended, bringing retribution of biblical proportions upon those who had presumed to harm those under Her embrace. Escorted out, the lone survivor left the site of their month-long captivity. Screams sounded from around the camp, louder than anything that had been uttered in the confines of that shack now behind everyone. It was a return to the times of the Great War. For old times' sake.

The survivor limped over to a campfire. Women and men sat around the ablaze pit, chatting, laughing. One noticed the new arrival, and stood up in warm greeting.

"Ah, Huang. Sorry about the delay. Bureaucratic nonsense, you know it. Wanna join us?"

"Why am I here... still alive? It doesn't make sense. It should've been me."

"Ai, they do things differently here. Barbarians, yeah?"

The campfire heckled in contempt. Huang looked into a puddle of blood nearby, his eyes lingering on the wisps of white hair on his scalp.

"Right. The male elder."