"We will have a look at the area, make sure he has no friends." Frank, the oldest french boy, said. He wore a beard like me and Artcher, and all three of them wore the same green knit caps. I think they were part of a junior militia group in the south. They never specified but they were headed north, lost, when they came across the Compound, half starved and all three sick with dysentery. We let them stay with us in exchange for a chance at passage out of the country. They had 5 winning Ferry Lottery tickets. These tickets were given out in a lottery when shit hit the fan, Cambodia wasn't the place to be anymore. Too much disease, too many warring factions with far too much firepower, And no central structure to make sure things go smoothly.Bullets-The only balance there was. It was chaos, it was painted pretty, but it was chaos. 5 tickets still left us 2 short of all being able to board, but we decided a plan would be developed as soon as the fellas were well. the youngest had just gotten over his sickness, it was the worst. He was in the outhouse at least 5-6 hours a day and constantly dehydrated to a dangerous point. Things began looking up for him, the other two had been well for some time.
They went off and eyed the tree-line, dipped in and out, really combing the place. Though it was grim, this was the boyscout's dream, and we all had a secret smile on about it.
The Thief on the floor began to move a bit and groan, his mouth was still shut closed and tight. The movements became more apparent and he got louder. his eyes half opened, they were swollen, red, lots of mucus around them. He was defiantly sick with something. His jaw was still very tight and he now seemed to bee straining himself to open it and scream or shout something. Our suburban enclaves had quickly become breeding grounds for all sorts of mutating diseases. It was a perfect setting for them to spread and wipe out a whole Protectorate. Not very uncommon. Growing up I only experienced one large scale outbreak scare. Harrison college was populated by a sort of adapted tropical crow, engineered to pick off snakes and rats, any jungle vermin no one wanted around. A digestive enzyme they produced just so happened to mix quite devilishly with the measles and a horrifying strain of the ailment ran wild across the campus. Somewhere around 200 students died before the filth was eradicated. Not uncommon.
"Disgusting, we ought to kill him." Artcher suggested, staring blank face into the coughing bastards eyes.
"Get him some water." I said, we needed to know what was going on outside our immediate chunk of bullshit jungle.
"yeah yeah" Artcher went inside.
It was just me and the intruder , only for a second before Anna Came back outside with one of many bottles of wine in the cellar of the Compound. For that second I felt remorse for the poor guy, but as soon as Anna came out, the very second, I realized he wouldn't have hesitated to slit that innocent girls neck if it meant a few more shells, a tank of gas. I thought of shooting him.
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