Side Story: Hell on Earth
Chapter 98
Number 17
The convoy of trucks headed to the gathering place for the evacuees. Except for Maria's family, everyone else happily rushed onto the trucks, hoping to return to the capital. Maria calmly registered, clearly stating her name and the number of people in her household.
After the procedure was completed, they were searched and had their belongings confiscated again. Maria's family was no longer surprised to see items without wings flying into the soldiers' pockets. One rebel found a photo album, threw it to the ground, and said in a judgmental voice:
"There's no need to recall your old life. It must be erased, completely forgotten!"
Maria cried and pleaded with him:
"Those photos are my parents' last keepsakes!"
The soldier looked at a photo of Maria's father wearing the medal awarded by the King of Floating Kingdom, surrounded by smiling children and grandchildren. He hesitated for a few seconds, then said briefly:
"You may keep the photo, but only this one!"
After saying that, he threw away all the other photos and left. Maria did not understand why this soldier was so careless. He only carried out a routine inspection, even somewhat perfunctory toward her family, unlike the strict checks on others. Perhaps he had once been in a similar situation, which explained his actions.
Whether intentional or not, Maria secretly felt grateful that he had given her the chance to retrieve a keepsake. She stood by the pile of photos, letting the children secretly pick them up and hide them carefully.
Everyone was crammed into the trucks like animals, with the words "Origin of the Cross Kingdom" written on them. The truck's cargo bed was covered with waterproof tarpaulin.
Maria was surprised; she remembered that during the temple meeting, the Hive had firmly declared that the country no longer needed foreign aid. Truly, they said one thing but did another. Yet Maria no longer had the heart to think or analyze this problem. What mattered most was the situation at hand.
Maria had no watch; she could only look at the shadow of the sun and guess that the departure time was around nine o'clock. She peered through a gap in the waterproof tarpaulin, trying to see where she was being taken.
After passing Kolam Danau (Pond Lake), the truck did not head straight South to the capital but detoured past Sungai Kecil (Small Stream) Westward, following the road along Sungai Dan and Anak Sungai (River and Creek) into the city. When they saw the first house, everyone was ecstatic, believing they had finally returned to the capital.
The truck entered a deserted city. The streets were empty, with only rebels in black uniforms walking or riding bicycles. The truck passed through the city, drove past the empty central market, and circled around fruit trees heavy with fruit. Later, Maria learned the truth beneath each tree: the monsters had buried the corpses of those executed when they occupied the place.
The truck reached the northern part of the city. The evacuees thought the soldiers would settle them there. But the truck continued onto the boulevard, slowly heading toward the hexagonal embassy building. Maria's heart pounded; recognizing the familiar street filled her with emotion and melancholy.
About ten meters to the left of the embassy, the church had already become ruins. On the right, the Kerajaan (Royal) Hotel and the place where Maria had studied for her bachelor's degree at Putri Raja (Princess) High School still stood firm.
The embassy was empty, and in front of it lay a cornfield. They wasted no time, carrying out the slogan: "Cultivate every piece of land." They wanted to erase everything connected to the old era, forcing everyone back into agricultural life.
The truck did not stop but passed by empty houses. Maria glimpsed the closed Murni condensed milk factory in the distance. She angrily recalled the rebels' speech at the shrine: the Hive needed evacuees to work in the factory. It had only been a lie to make the evacuees surrender their past.
The capital had no life, except for a few rebels. The truck left the Northern district and continued along the highway. The shadow of the city disappeared, smoke and fire spread everywhere, like the curtain falling on an ending: from then on, the miserable ones would never see their homes again.
The sun rose high, signaling the start of the afternoon. The truck had circled since morning without stopping once. The elderly, the sick, and the children could no longer endure and had to relieve themselves in the truck.
The suffocating air was thick with a nauseating stench that seemed to reach down every throat and yank everything out, already killing two elderly people. But the rebels did not care, as if they were transporting animals instead of humans. Everyone grew furious and screamed together.
The deafening noise forced them to stop the truck. The evacuees scrambled out of the cargo bed, seeking places to relieve themselves and breathe fresh air.
Maria's family was hungry and thirsty. Tragically, the basket held only a little cold rice, some salt, and a bottle of cooled boiled water. Those things were for the children. The children said they were hungry but said nothing more; while there was still something to eat, they quietly ate.
A few minutes later, everyone returned to the truck covered with waterproof tarpaulin, packed tightly inside. The soldiers ordered the relatives of the two corpses to throw the bodies on the ground without burial:
"We don't have time for meaningless things!"
The crowd was angry but had to endure silently. The relatives of the two corpses dared not mourn or cry; they quietly laid their parents on the ground. Maria saw them hurriedly climb back onto the truck, hiding the tears streaming down their cheeks. No one dared to offer condolences; everyone trudged onto the trucks in an air that was already suffocating and gloomy, now becoming even more somber and breathless. A few minutes later, perhaps unable to bear the tension, someone boldly asked:
"Where are we going?"
The soldier sitting beside the driver answered briefly:
"We haven't reached the destination yet."
Every town and province they passed was as desolate as the capital. The journey kept going without reaching a destination. Night had long fallen, and the children were tired, hungry, unable to sleep, and began to cry again.
The truck was still moving, and the evacuees still did not know where they were headed. The executioners did not care whether these "animals" needed food. At midnight, the truck arrived at Diantara (the center), the first stop. The place was full of evacuees like Maria's family.
The soldiers announced: "Tomorrow the train will come to pick you up." They pointed to the place where rice and salt were being distributed, and everyone rushed to get some.
After a long wait, Le and Maria received a little precious food. After that, the two of them found a spot to pitch a tent to keep out the wind and dew. The children were so hungry their stomachs ached; they cried until they finally fell asleep.
From the day of confinement in the "Middle Ages," Maria prayed that each full moon night would bring some light. But that night was pitch black, the moon and stars hidden. Maria had to grope in the darkness to approach a woman. The woman was highly alert, afraid of being robbed or attacked. Maria quickly said:
"Do you know where there is water for cooking?"
The woman cautiously pointed toward the pond at the camp gate, where shadows lurked along the shore. Maria felt her way forward and scooped a bucket of murky, whitish water. Le and Maria built a makeshift kitchen with three stones.
After easing their hunger a little, Maria's family laid mats on the ground, hung a mosquito net on four branches, and slept, dreaming of a better tomorrow.
At dawn, Maria returned to the pond to wash. She nearly vomited green and yellow bile at the piles of human waste floating on the surface. Perhaps the entire camp used the pond as a toilet. It was filthy. But without water, survival was impossible. Tragically, this pond was the only source. Maria frowned, covered her nose, and washed herself perfunctorily.
For three days in a row, Maria's family had to live like this: each day only a little rice, salt, and coarse sugar, cooking with the murky, stagnant, foul water.
There was nothing to do, nothing to see. Everyone was confined in a tent camp in the barren fields near Diantara, not far from the railway line. The evacuees could only wait.
Finally, around 5 p.m. on September 18, the "next day's" train arrived. It was a freight train. The soldiers ordered everyone to board immediately.
Each family, including Maria's, hurried up, throwing their bags into the corners of the carriage. The carriage was empty; everyone sat on the floor. The monsters did not bother to explain but announced:
"The train will not depart today. Comrades must wait here overnight!"
Everyone sat close together, trying to find space to sleep, but there was none. Maria held her little daughter in her arms to make her more comfortable. Le did the same. Liberte lay down, resting his head on his mother's knee. Maria's legs went numb all night, preventing her from sleeping.
At six in the morning, the shrill whistle woke everyone. The rebels announced that the train was about to move. The evacuees had only two or three minutes to relieve themselves before rushing back. As the carriage shook, the clanging of metal startled the children awake, who cried for food. After each meal, Le and Maria always saved some cold rice and a few grains of salt for the children. The two mothers had to endure hunger and thirst.
The train ran nonstop for ten hours. Some elderly people relieved themselves again inside. Only misery enveloped Maria's family in the cramped carriage, filled with the stench of urine and filth.
Time dragged on endlessly. Maria gazed out the window, occasionally reading the names of the stations the train passed. The rebels had not yet changed them into Mountain-Sea language; the station names still bore hexagonal script. Around four in the afternoon, they reached the second stop: Danau Kecil (Small Lake), a town in a small province.
The place was crowded like ants, full of evacuees from other provinces. At the station gate, everyone had to gather. Every ten households formed a group, with one person assigned as supervisor.
Each person had to fill out a declaration form with their full name and family size, then hand it to the supervisor. That man gave each group a number, registering Maria's family and Le's family as one household, even though it was obvious they were two different families.
They did this in order to merge the rations, so that they could save according to the laws issued by the Hive. Maria did not know whether it was intentional or accidental, but her family's group carried the number 17—the number of the Grim Reaper.
The rebels collected the declaration forms and provided rice and dried fish to the evacuees. After the procedures were completed, they ordered the people to move to the town center, where each household received a wooden shed for the night.
Everyone waited in Danau Kecil for a whole day, not knowing what would happen next. Vague information had already eroded their spirits. Waiting in the voiceless silence of emptiness, the parents could not play with the children, and the children themselves no longer wanted to play either.
The children were tormented by hunger and thirst, having been exiled for half a year without understanding why. Their eyes held nothing but despair, yet they dared not, and did not want to ask. The adults could only look at each other in silence, waiting for the bleak future to decide their ill-fated destiny.
At dawn on September 20, tractors transported the evacuees to another place. Maria had never been so far from home in her life, though this was only the beginning.
Each tractor carried two groups, equal to twenty families. At that time, the evacuees were like livestock penned and driven by the Hive, left to those monsters to decide their lives and deaths, taken wherever they wished. Afraid of retaliation, without weapons, no one had any intention, no one dared to make up their mind to resist.
Two hours later, the tractors reached the mountains, surrounded by three hills no higher than six hundred meters: Bukit Hitam (Black Hill), Bukit Putih (White Hill), and Bukit Merah (Red Hill). The tractors threw countless people into the yard of Bukit Hitam Hospital, where ox carts were waiting.
People threw their belongings into the carts and, under the blazing sun at eleven o'clock, walked barefoot three kilometers to the temple. The children, hungry and exhausted, struggled to walk and slowly cried as they followed behind.
It was heartbreaking, but the parents did not know what to do. They could not comfort or help the children ease their suffering. No one dared to defy the Hive's orders.
Burning thirst in their throats came with the ravages of hunger, and the miserable people were further taunted by… countless fruit trees swaying in the wind, releasing their sweet fragrance.
In the past few months, the evacuees had not eaten a single mango, a banana, or half an orange. Each one drooled with longing, but if they begged, the soldiers would mock and insult them. In the worst case, the evacuees would suffer terrible punishment.
The soldiers only allowed adults to carry the youngest children while following the schedule. Maria carried Ange, and Le carried Yi. The crowd arrived at the shrine gate. Three village chiefs were waiting there: Ta Ken, Ta Say, and Ta Kach. "Ta" was a title for men, replacing the old "Sa," which meant gentleman, now abolished.
Ta Ken randomly selected fourteen families and Maria's family. In the past, Maria had heard people talk about Ta Ken: he was stingy, greedy, ruthless, the chief of the poorest village, a place where all the villagers were filled with greed and envy.
Maria silently cursed the misfortune that clung to her family more tightly than restless specters. After the dwellings were assigned, the soldiers announced:
"Comrades must walk another three kilometers to reach the new settlement, still barefoot, trailing behind the ox carts."
The crowd set out again, walking toward the tragic end of their fate, all guessing that it would be worse than their previous place of residence, and that it was not the final destination.
Countless fears still awaited ahead…