Irin remained inside the cart for a long time before he finally climbed out of it and landed on frozen ground with a dull thud.
He lay there for a second before he rolled onto his side and vomited until his stomach cramped.
The unbelievable idea of his plan's success made him laugh.
"I made it out of the prison."
He was free at last. The thought felt unreal.
Irin stood up clumsily and took off the layers of clothes. One foul-smelling cloth after another dropped to the ground.
Out of sheer luck, the remaining two layers of clothes left were clean and unstained by poop.
He winced while removing the pebbles from his ears, feeling sensation return to his eardrums. Suddenly, his world became noisy. He felt the cool air on his skin, accompanied by the sound of wind in the trees.
He took off another layer of cloth and used it to scrub himself as best he could.
He straightened up and then glanced around.
Except for the scattered pine trees, a vast snow-covered wilderness stretched out all around.
"It won't be long before they figure out I'm gone," Irin muttered. "Assuming they haven't already."
He ensured he didn't waste more time and kept walking to evade search parties who would undoubtedly track him once they realized he'd gone missing with the cart.
He picked a path that deviated from the prison and started walking.
To Irin, it was an exhilarating feeling to walk further and further away from the prison he had spent his whole life in. He would have escaped from prison years ago had Barak not constantly dissuaded him because of safety concerns.
Irin took a deep breath of the pure, refreshing air. Passing by, he touched the bark of trees and brushed snow off branches, enjoying the view as they fell.
Prisons, in reality, served as a kind of hell. Without leaving that place, he would have missed out on all these experiences.
He continued walking until he reached the mountain's steeper terrain. More than once, Irin lost his footing and slid several meters down icy slopes, sustaining bruises on his palms and face.
Despite this, he kept pushing on.
He had been walking for hours when his stomach ached with hunger.
"Food," he muttered. "I need food."
He looked around. Snow covered everything, burying any signs of life. He knew nothing about hunting animals for food, nor anything about identifying edible plants that were not poisonous. He had no guide or map that pinpointed safe locations, or at least helped in navigation.
Barak had taught him many things, except surviving beyond the prison walls.
Irin had nearly lost all hope until he spotted a tree.
The tree was large, and bright red fruit covered its heavy branches, contrasting with the snowy surroundings.
Irin stopped. His mouth watered instantly.
"Is this real…?" he whispered.
He approached cautiously. The fruit appeared even more appealing upon closer inspection. With smooth skin and a plump form, the fruit was rich in color.
Irin used a fallen branch to knock several fruits down. One landed near his feet. After a brief pause, he picked it up and took a bite.
His mouth filled with a rush of sweet, watery juice.
Irin softly sighed and settled under the tree, eating so many that he found it hard to slow down. Some of the fruit juice dripped down his chin, and soon Irin felt he was no longer hungry.
After satisfying himself completely, he had a thought.
'Why was this tree the only fruit-bearing tree I could find in the mountains and in the middle of nowhere?'
Irin frowned, glancing around. Everywhere was quiet and chilly. There were no signs of birds or footprints that showed something else had been eating from this tree.
Something seemed amiss, but he couldn't figure out what it was.
"I'll think later," he said.
Rising to his feet, he climbed the tree, plucking many fruits and letting them fall. When he climbed down, he gathered twigs, dried bark, and the broad leaves from the fruit tree. He wove them together until he had formed a crude pouch.
He stuffed most of the fruit inside and slung it over his shoulder. He would eat them later when hungry. It was only after that he sat under the tree, intending to rest.
At that moment, unknown figures sprang out from their hiding places among the trees.
They were men and women dressed in animal hides, and they smeared ash and dried blood on their faces.
With knives, axes, and clubs in their hands, they ran towards the fruit tree at a ferocious pace.
"What—?!" Irin shot to his feet.
They all stopped running and started walking slowly.
"Look at him!" one of them shouted, laughing wildly. "He's not afraid to wander this far!"
Another smiled, showing yellowed teeth before pointing a long sickle at Irin. "You love getting eating I assume? Yes?!"
Irin realized these people were cannibals.
Barak had told him to be wary of beasts and monsters. But never cannibal!
Irin ran without hesitation.
The snow made a crunching sound as he ran through the woods. The cannibals whooped and laughed behind him as they relentlessly chased him.
"RUN, LITTLE MEAT!" one shouted.
Irin ran past some trees and forcefully braked himself to a stop.
Ahead of him was a wide river with its surface frozen in ice. Its pale blue water was barely visible under the ice layer.
A dangerous idea formed in his mind.
Seeing how close they were getting, Irin ran out, intending to cross the frozen river.
As Irin ran at his top speed, the ice surface cracked slowly. He almost panicked that his worst fear of sinking under the water might happen; fortunately, he crossed the river, making it to the other side of the bank safely.
When Irin looked, the cannibals had already begun to run across the frozen river.
The cracks expanded more quickly due to their combined weight. They ignored the warning sign and placed their focus on the 'prize' across the riverbank.
Irin stood there and waited.
The cannibals slowed down in confusion and stopped running too.
One laughed. "Look at him! Brave little thing!"
"He has resigned to his fate. He knows it's so over for him."
"Then come get me!" Irin shouted back.
Anger replaced their amusement, and they walked faster towards Irin.
Irin grabbed a log of wood lying nearby and hammered it repeatedly on the ice with everything he had.
The cracks on the ice surface broke further, connecting and deepening across the whole river.
By the time the cannibals realized what was happening, it was too late. They tried to run faster, but the ice surface caved in and they all sank into the cold water.
They resurfaced above the water, struggling to keep themselves afloat and screaming with their might.
"Stupid boy!" one of them shouted. "Your tricks failed! You're as good as dead."
"You'll taste better in a pot of boiling soup!"
Smiling at them, Irin squatted near the water's edge.
"You're already in the pot of soup," Irin dipped a finger into the water. "Just the cold one."
Something large in the water began to move behind the group of cannibals.
Unknown to them, the ice shards had wounded them when they fell, causing their blood to leak into the river. And that blood had attracted a creature that lurked beneath the river.
The cannibals' rage turned to panic as they struggled to swim faster, but the coldness of the water had already made their limbs numb, making them swim so slowly.
One by one, they disappeared beneath the river's surface until no one remained, and the pale blue water slowly turned red with blood.
Irin took a step back from the riverbank and picked up his bag of fruit.
"I suppose your meat was tastier than mine."