Ten
The quiet of the wild mountainous landscape struck me with the irony of unmistakable pain. We had travelled throughout the night to Outer Area Two, the former Lomond National Park. During the day, we made preparations; scouted the area, built the tools. I tried to teach shooting with the sensorial weapons, but this technique took a lot of time and practice. A massive wired fence surrounded the whole area of the camp. Now, the sun hid behind the horizon again, ready to mask our presence with its absence. For a brief moment it would let me believe that what lay behind this fence was not a terrible mistake, a painful failure of human nature, a proof that we were not what we thought we were—civilized, blessed with reason that would always prevail.
The rough fence that violently broke the
