Legacy - Prologue

Aatami tears through the forest. Every so often he trips over the roots sticking out of the ground. The branches hurt his face. He doesn’t pay attention to them; all he concentrates on now is not falling over and not slowing down.  His legs are shaking but he keeps running pushed by the overpowering fear. The men are right behind him, he can hear their laboured breathing. Even though he is not turning back to check, he knows they are going to catch up with him any moment. The thought of giving up flashes through his head like a lightning. Equally quickly the will to survive pushes him forward. Orange sunset shines through the branches straight into his eyes. All shades of yellow, red, orange and brown merge into one blurred colour. Something prods him in the back. He realises that he tripped over and is now rolling down the slope. Heavy boots are right behind him; they are sliding down the hillside in big strides. He knows he won’t get away now. Before he manages to stop and recognise the sky from the ground a man closest to him grabs him by the jacket and lifts him up.

            Aatami is now looking in the big, dark face. This face is covered in grey and black stubble, coal of the evil eyes sparkles over long and slim nose. These eyes are looking through him; Aatami turns his head away and closes his eyes, his heart stops for a moment. Big, hard hand turns his head towards the man’s face. The remaining men caught up and formed a circle around them. The boy cannot see their faces, they are blurred; but he senses that they are as evil as the one he has to look at. The sun has almost set and it is getting grey; the wind raises and moves the leafless branches. The men light their torches. In this light bad eyes of the man are hiding under the shade of the big eyebrows but Aatami knows that the man is looking through him. The bad man’s lips start moving, Aatami, however, doesn’t hear a word. The man keeps talking faster but no sound reaches the boy’s ears. The man shakes him very hard and clenches his hand around Aatami’s neck. The boy recalls a young deer he killed that summer while hunting with his father. His first kill. He clearly remembers its helpless little legs wriggling and the eyes fading away after he cut its throat. And the blood, blackening paddle on the grass. The man’s face is now so close that the boy can smell stale stench of alcohol and the skin immersed with tobacco. ‘He is going to kill me now,’ Aatami thinks. Something heavy hits him in the back of the head. Aatami feels pain, his nostrils fill with the strong smell of lilac and soon after that he falls into the darkness.