“What do you mean by that?”
“This is the ceremony made over the dead. They call it the Lazarus ritual. You probably died when something hit you on your head, maybe in an accident, or somebody attacked you and knocked you down. You can thank whoever performed this ritual on you for bringing you back from the dead. It’s all because they put that smoking stuff into your mouth.”
The man’s words echoed meaninglessly through Julie’s mind. It was a sentence without any significance.
“Where and how did you find me?” she asked suddenly. She was fed up with the uncertainty, and she wanted to find out everything she could about the past events.
“Few kilometres to the north, on a stretcher fabricated from wood and lianas.”
“Uhum …” said Julie, nodding. The explanation didn’t help her, bu
