The scouting went on. The surroundings were slowly changing; the rocks had given way first to gravel, then to sand.
The valley now smelled of moss and earth. That smell had lifted the group's spirits a little.
Now there was hope in their eyes.
Then Yavuz, as if it had just occurred to him while walking, asked without quite raising his head:
"Um…"
"Up there… on that hill, what did you see?"
The question seemed tossed into the void, but it was clear who it was meant for.
Poyraz took a few more steps. Before answering, he scuffed the sand with his foot.
"A terrifying nothingness," he said at last.
"So it wasn't a view, then."
Poyraz laughed faintly.
"It was a view. But not the way it should have been."
Hak didn't speak. He was walking. His eyes were still fixed ahead.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Sevda jumped in, her patience wearing thin. "Either you saw something or you didn't."
The words hung in the air.
For a moment I thought about what to say. Then I felt my pocket.
It was empty.
"Anyone have paper and a pen?" I said.
Poyraz raised his eyebrows. "Are you serious?"
"Yes."
After a brief silence, Tekin pulled a crumpled sheet from his pocket.
"There's something on it, but it'll do."
I knelt and rested the paper on my knee.
My lines were quick. Not straight. Not to scale at all.
No one asked what I was drawing. They just watched.
After a while Poyraz leaned in.
"…Yeah," he said slowly. "It looks like this."
Sevda looked at the paper.
"Mountains? That many?"
I nodded.
"Our west is completely covered in mountains. To our east there's a lake. And east of that there's the brown sea."
I kept drawing,
"To the north and south, in the distance, the sea continues."
"And between the sea, the lake, and the mountains is the region we're in. It's made up of many hills and small flatlands."
Pointing to a spot near the mountains:
"Assuming we fled westward, we entered the cave somewhere around here."
Yavuz pointed curiously at a spot:
"Why is this part empty?"
"Because it's empty."
He looked at me as if he didn't understand. "That's a completely empty plain. There's nothing inside that circle. Forget a hill or a slope—there isn't even a rock."
Then I added, "I'd advise you to burn this map into your memory. It might come in handy."
Tekin started studying the map, then spoke:
"So was there any sign of people…"
Hak, who'd been silent until then, made a short but pointed remark:
"No structures, no plants, no animals. This is a completely empty place."
The tension that had just barely eased rose again. This conversation gave nothing but despair.
Poyraz must have noticed, because he changed the subject:
"There might be no life up above, but down here we've got our moss. Then again, those eyes and that shadow could count as life. I don't know…"
He thought for a moment, then went on,
"By the way, Tunay, it's admirable you can remember all this so well. In the heat of the moment I don't think I paid attention as closely as you did."
Yavuz cut in, "Same here."
I answered their praise with a grin, "I've got a good memory. I'm like an archive."
Poyraz laughed, "An archive, huh. Hahahaha."
Poyraz's laugh was short, but the conversation that followed didn't end.
As the road went on, people talked more instead of going quiet. Some turned back to the map and asked questions, some put the senselessness of this merciless place into their own words.
As we walked, everyone's mind was caught on a different point. Some wondered whether the mountains to the west would give passage. Others questioned whether the lake was really fresh water, and faces soured when the sea was mentioned. The idea of the brown sea gave no one any confidence.
As the walk dragged on, the conversations branched and multiplied. Even those who refused to admit they were tired had been forced to pace their breathing. We noticed the bottles getting lighter.
Thirst was no longer just a possibility, but a pressure we could feel.
Even so, the talking didn't stop.
The ground was changing again. We were no longer walking on sand and gravel but on soil. With it, everyone felt hopeful.
Because there were shrubs and grasses around. There were even the odd flower here and there.
The valley was no longer just a cave of stone and moss. Now it looked like a paradise beneath the earth.
Rubbing his stomach, Yavuz asked: "I wonder if there's anything edible among these?"
A voice came from behind—it was Tekin, tired and struggling to walk—
"You want to get poisoned? Do you think the plants here could be normal?"
In response Sevda pointed: "I don't know, but that flower over there looked like a plain old daisy to me. Or are you scared of a daisy?"
Everyone except Hak looked where she pointed; he was focused on something. What we saw really was a daisy.
Tekin started grumbling but didn't reply; faint chuckles came from around us.
Hak suddenly opened his mouth. "Quiet!"
He kept turning his head this way and that, as if trying to hear something.
Poyraz: "What is it?"
"Quiet, I'm trying to listen!!"
Everyone pricked up their ears and started to listen, but before we could even focus Hak began to run.
"Where to?"
Hak didn't answer, he ran. We followed.
We jumped over rocks, pushed through bushes. After a two-to-three-minute run Hak stopped. And so did we.
Hak was looking at a rock, a wet rock…
"Drip! Drip! Drip!"
The sound of water…
It was so small that it was stranger he'd noticed it. Thin drops trickling from the rock collected in a small pool below.
Around the pool there were a few water plants, moss, and insects that scattered when we approached.
Sevda was the first to step up. She reached out, dipped her fingers in the water, and brought them to her mouth.
"Seems normal," she said.
The crazy girl had checked the water by tasting it. After that, everyone pounced on the water.
Tekin was washing his face with water, Sevda kept drinking, Duru was filling her bottle.
The bottles were filled. Sips were taken. Everyone drank their fill. It was strange—none of us, myself included, even thought to be suspicious of the water.
Thankfully there was no problem.
After a while we sat down. The conversation had picked up. People were debating where the water came from, whether it pooled somewhere lower down, whether it continued on.
Some argued we should take a short break here. Others that lingering too long wasn't a good idea.
Sevda and Tekin got up, saying they wanted to walk around a bit.
Time passed. No one could say exactly how much. Since the light didn't change, time didn't seem to flow either.
The rest had done us good.
Maybe too much good.
With the ease the water gave us, our guard had loosened.
The conversations were still going on; some talked about the map, some debated whether we should turn back.
That changed with a shout.
I raised my head. The sound came from the direction Sevda and Tekin had gone.
For a while nothing appeared.
Then the bushes parted sharply.
Sevda was running—or rather, fleeing.
Tekin came out after her.
He was running too. But the look on his face… wasn't tiredness or anger.
It was fear.
"RUN!" Sevda pushed her vocal cords to their limit.
Her voice cracked.
For a moment no one understood what we were supposed to run from.
Then we saw them.
First one of them.
The thing that came out of the bushes looked like a squirrel…
but at the same time it didn't.
Its body was swollen, its limbs were altered.
Its skin had split, and hard, shell-like structures were coming out from inside.
Legs were protruding from its body—insect legs…
It was coming at us fast on its six legs.
Then another like it came out: a rat.
Then one more. This time a rabbit.
Tekin nearly crashed into us as he stopped.
He was out of breath.
"They're not animals…" he said. "Like insects… but they're not…"
Sevda kept running without looking back.
"Don't stay here!" she shouted.
"Stay away from the water! Get out into the open!"
In that moment one of the creatures leaped.
The distance between it and us suddenly halved.
We were running.
The rest was over.