Land of Heathens

Chapter 9 - Whispers of the Missing

The morning light crept softly through the dusty streets as the trio walked together, and the peaceful hum of sunlight settled over the area.

However, their thoughts were everything but tranquil. "I still can't wrap my head around it," Mehrak said, kicking a pebble in front of him. "Baasit? Turning into a genius? Overnight?" Nimi folded her arms and knitted her brows. "He wasn't simply focused. He was different. Like something shifted inside of him." She shook her head slowly.

"Remember last month? He skipped half of his classes, slept through the rest." Navir breathed sharply.

"Yeah. He was the class clown, often joking around with everyone. But a week before examinations, something...shifted. And everyone was too busy to notice, I guess." Mehrak nodded.

"What about those sudden disappearances before the exam? That composure, he appeared to have already seen the test." Nimi paused. "Perhaps someone assisted him? Or pressed him? The way he ignored you, Navir, that was not normal."

Navir's pace slowed. The morning had already felt strange, but as everything came together, the unease intensified. "He wasn't stressed," he said softly. "Wasn't terrified. He wasn't even present. It was like he was following orders that only he could hear.”

They walked silently for a bit, each repeating scenes from that morning, attempting to make sense of the inexplicable shift. It had been two weeks since final examinations and a full week since Baasit vanished.

Inside the neighborhood basketball court, the usual noises of bouncing balls, skidding sneakers, and shouted encouragement filled the steamy air. Navir, Nimi, and Mehrak leaned against the chain-link fence, watching the game from the sidelines, their eyes searching the players as their shoulders tightened.

When the ball rolled towards them, Navir went forward and shoved it back to the nearest player. It provided an opening. "Hey," he began, moving closer to the group, "have you seen Baasit lately?" The question shattered the game's rhythm. Dribbles slowed. Several heads turned. One player paused in the middle of a stroke, holding the ball poised in his hands. "Baasit?" he repeated. "Not since a few days following the exam. He just... disappeared." He released the ball in a clean arc toward the hoop, and as his arm raised, his forearm sleeve pulled back slightly, revealing a rough, orchid-petal-shaped mark on his flesh.

Mehrak's gaze remained on the mark. He took a step closer, a smile pulling on his lips. "Wow," he replied, casually yet intrigued, "that's a cool tattoo. Where did you get it?" The player looked at his forearm, expressionless. "Oh, this? It's just a birthmark," he shrugged and resumed the game. Navir's stomach twisted. The mark appeared too purposeful and distinct.

He remembered seeing the same orchid-petal-shaped tattoo on the forearm of one of the hooded figures at Baasit's abandoned house the night he lost his wallet. In that moment, a chilly knot of anxiety swelled in his chest. Baasit's sudden brilliance, unexplained disappearance, and the silent, hidden ties surrounding him all felt considerably more ominous and intentional than they had previously imagined.

Mehrak's garage was alive with the continuous hum of electronics. A solitary hanging bulb swayed softly overhead, casting a warm cone of light across the crowded space, which included tools scattered across the concrete, wires stretched across old paint cans, and a half-built circuit board blinking with a dim, tenacious glow.

Mehrak stooped over the device, soldering iron positioned with precision, sweat forming on the smooth slope of his head. Navir sat on an overturned crate nearby, passing the time by lazily rolling a loose screw between his fingers, but his gaze was always drawn to the sparks dancing under Mehrak's palms.

"So… what are you working on?" Mehrak looked up briefly, a pleased grin forming across his face. "This little marvel? It is a solar-powered micro-relay system. Completely my own design, and believe me, no one else is doing anything like it. It's going to blow the competition away."

Navir inclined his head, frowning. "You really think this will actually work?" Mehrak gave a quick, dry laugh while peering at a difficult wire. "Yes, absolutely, it's flawless… if you disregard the small oddities that prevent it from exploding."

The garage door pulled open, spilling warm daylight across the crowded floor. Mehrak's younger sister, Nayira, who was in her early teens, went gingerly inside, taking note of the scattered tools and half-opened devices. She held a tiny tray near to her chest, balancing nicely wrapped sandwiches and two cartons of iced juice. "Brother," she replied quietly, her voice warm and courteous, "I thought you might be hungry. So I brought something for you both."

She lowered the tray softly, her expression modest yet proud. Mehrak sunk his teeth into a large slice of the sandwich, chewing swiftly before managing between mouthfuls. "Thanks, Sis."

Navir smiled a tired smile, the stress from before still pressing against his shoulders. Before either of them could calm down, Navir's fifteen-year-old brother, Sorvan, stepped into the garage with wide, interested eyes. "Look what I found," he said softly, holding up a small mechanical piece as if it were a valuable gem. His voice was gentle, almost bashful, and carried the naive amazement of someone much younger than him. "Does this… go in your project?" Mehrak leaned forward to have a closer look. "No," he answered bluntly, and don't…" Too late. Sorvan's fingertips slipped.

The little metal piece bounced off his palm, clattered against the workbench, and rolled across the floor in a short, sharp arc. It spun into a dark corner of the garage and vanished behind dusty crates. A faint, unusual tapping sound reverberated back, too hefty for something so small.