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墨書 Inktalez
I was not the least bit surprised by Ah Xiang and A San's decision. I turned to another Lao Person and gestured simply to indicate what I wanted to do. The Lao Person immediately stood up, thumping his chest to show me he would go. Jack had just sat down on the Rain Cover, probably still warming his seat, when he cursed and stood up, saying, "Count me in."
I pulled a portable Walkie-Talkie from my backpack and tossed it to Ah Xiang. "I'll contact you when I find Buasong."
I patted the Lao Person on the shoulder, signaling him to lead the way. He quickly shouldered his backpack and entered the water from one direction. This direction veered away from the bushes, heading northeast; I had no idea what lay ahead, but I was curious about what had drawn Buasong there.
Ah Xiang showed a look of surprise and disbelief at my decision. Just as I turned around, I heard the sound of a bullet being chambered behind me. Slowly, I turned back to see an AK-47's muzzle pointed at me, held by Ah Xiang. He remained seated against his backpack, the AK-47 casually resting on his leg, one hand on the trigger.
"Mr. Zhang, this is my call here; I hope you understand that. Until the mission is complete, you cannot leave me. To be more straightforward, if you want to go die, that's your choice, but it has to be after I get that thing. I'm not going to question why you urged two Lao People to discard the equipment; I won't allow that to happen again, and we need to retrieve those items. So right now, no one can leave."
I stood at the edge of the bushes about seven or eight meters away from him; the Lao Person had already entered the water and was over ten meters away from him while Jack had just stood up and hadn't taken many steps. Our faces appeared somewhat pale under the glow of the Glow Stick. Jack also froze in place but did not turn around; his face twitched as if he were experiencing a spasm from overwhelming fear.
I ignored Jack; in this situation, he might collapse and compromise with Ah Xiang. I focused my gaze on Ah Xiang and spoke to him in as calm and steady a tone as possible: "Whether for our final deal or for my friend Xiao Guolin, I will help you complete this mission. At the same time, I must ensure my teammates' safety; in my eyes, you, me, and him," I pointed at Ah Xiang, myself, and the Lao Person respectively, "are equal—at least when it comes to life. I'm going to find him and bring him back; you can choose to come along or wait, but you cannot stop me. Also, if my friend loses contact with me, I don't think your fate will be any better than mine."
With that said, I turned around and signaled for the Lao Person to continue moving forward. Soon enough, the three of us disappeared into the thick fog without any sign of decisiveness from Ah Xiang. I didn't know which words had an effect on him; however, as we left the bushes behind, a cold sweat broke out on my back—a feeling of having narrowly escaped death.
We advanced in a straight line; perhaps influenced by Ah Xiang's demeanor, no one spoke—just trudging along silently while I felt equally speechless. Jack was relatively close to me; I could see he looked pale; what had just happened hit him hard. I pondered how to comfort him but decided it was best for him to adapt and digest it on his own.
My watch had a compass that could confirm our direction of travel. This was important because in this fog where visibility was poor, it at least helped us maintain our course. The water in the swamp wasn't deep; our backpacks weren't heavy either, and each of us carried a stick for balance—safety was still assured.
After walking for over three hours through thick fog, I was exhausted; every step required immense effort just to pull my legs out of the mud. I called for Jack and the Lao Person to stop once more and checked our direction with the compass again. In my memory, if we hadn’t strayed off course, we should encounter a hill soon. Shaking my watch slightly made the compass dial spin before stabilizing—it seemed fine.
Still doubting whether there was an issue with my compass, I called Jack and the Lao Person over and asked Jack: "Check your compass; is your direction correct?"
Jack and I both extended our wrists, and the two compasses pointed in the same direction. Jack glanced at me and said, "There should be a mountain here."
I nodded. "Yes. It's very likely we missed it. The visibility is too low; you can't see anything after just a few meters. I suggest we ask the Lao people. If we're generally heading in the right direction, we can continue searching ahead. It would be more difficult to go back and find that mountain. We need to find a piece of land to rest."
Jack nodded grimly. He was also nearing his physical limits, and more importantly, his mental state was poor; he still seemed to be haunted by the threat to his life from Ah Xiang.
As I gestured, I repeated Buasong's name to communicate with the Lao people. It was quite laborious; they were insistent on this direction, believing that Buasong was indeed ahead, pointing forward while making sounds like "that, that." When I had been communicating with Buasong during the night watch, I had learned some simple Lao phrases. The pronunciation from this Lao person seemed to indicate that Buasong was in front or in that direction. However, he didn't seem to realize that there should be a hill here based on initial observations.
I conveyed the Lao person's meaning to Jack, who did not object; I assumed it was mainly because he didn't have any better ideas either.
The further we went, the more exhausting it became. The three of us could no longer maintain a relatively distant separation; we had to huddle together. Otherwise, if someone fell into a swamp, the others might not be able to rush over in time to help. More numb than my legs was my brain; I had transitioned from constantly checking my dial for direction and time to only checking it occasionally. The efficiency of our progress had become intolerably low. At that moment, I saw a light ahead.
First, I confirmed that it wasn't an illusion; it was simple—I asked Jack, "What’s ahead?"
Jack replied, "Will-o'-the-wisps."
The Lao person murmured dreamily, "Guman Tong."
Of course, I wouldn't agree with either of their views, but I knew that light wasn't emitted by Buasong or our glow sticks because it wasn't just a point; it was a patch. Although it was far away, I could still clearly see that it was an orange-red glow, like a burning fire. It couldn't be a campfire; the area was too large—it seemed like there was pavement burning ahead.
Our glow sticks emitted a bluish-white light, which contrasted greatly with the light ahead.
The three of us stood still, staring intently at the light ahead as an invisible fear enveloped us.
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