CHAPTER 4: THE ROAD BACK HOME
784 Words
John kept moving forward.
But deep in his heart, he knew one thing...
He was not safe yet.
Those three men had not given up.
From the way they were following him, John knew they were not ordinary killers. They were people who planned everything carefully.
He placed his hand over his wound.
The cloth wrapped around it was soaked with blood.
He clenched his teeth.
"I can't let this blood keep leading them to me."
He looked back cautiously.
There was no one following him in sight.
But that did not mean he was safe.
John knew experienced people did not just run after losing their target.
They searched for signs.
They looked for mistakes.
And he did not want to make any mistakes.
He spotted an area with piles of discarded trash nearby.
He quickly moved toward a small pool of dirty water nearby.
He washed his hand quickly to reduce the blood traces.
The pain was so intense that it made it difficult for him to breathe.
But he did not make a sound.
After that, he tore another piece of his clothing and wrapped the wound again.
He stood up.
His legs were trembling.
But his mind was still strong.
"I need to get out of here."
"I don't need to win this battle today..."
"I need to survive."
He slowly began moving toward the other side of the dump.
Meanwhile...
Inside the same dump, the three men were still searching for him.
The tall man stood near the fading blood marks.
He bent down and examined them.
"He knew we were following him."
The thin man looked at him.
"What do you mean?"
The tall man touched the mark with his finger.
"He tried to erase them."
The short man laughed angrily.
"So he still has a brain."
The tall man remained silent for a moment.
"That's the problem."
"This man is not ordinary."
They looked at each other.
For the first time, even they seemed cautious.
"Let's go."
"We have to finish the job."
After walking for a long time...
John finally saw a main road.
He stopped at the side.
For a few seconds, he felt like he had won.
But his body reminded him of the truth.
He was exhausted.
He had a wound.
No phone.
No money.
No one he could trust.
A man who once had everything in the world...
Now did not even have the ability to prove his own name.
He started walking along the road.
People looked at him.
Some avoided him.
Others looked at him with pity.
But no one saw him as a famous person.
To them, he was just a lost man.
John noticed a young man holding a phone.
He gathered his strength and approached him.
"Excuse me..."
The young man looked at him.
"Yes?"
"Could you please lend me your phone for a minute?"
The young man looked at his dirty clothes.
Then he looked at the blood on John's hand.
"Are you hurt?"
"Yes."
"But I need to make a call."
"Who are you calling?"
John remained silent for a moment.
Then he said:
"My family."
The young man hesitated.
But another person nearby interrupted.
"Leave him alone."
"Can't you see his condition?"
John felt anger rising inside him.
"I'm not a beggar."
Silence fell.
He took a deep breath.
"I am John Jacob Diksoni."
A few seconds passed.
Then...
Someone started laughing.
"John?"
"The billionaire?"
Others started laughing too.
John remained silent.
What hurt him was not their laughter.
It was the truth that even he, if he were in their position, might have failed to believe someone like that.
Because his face was no longer the face of a man who stood above the world.
He was a broken man.
He walked away without saying anything.
But every step he took carried one word in his heart.
"Family."
As time passed...
The headache began returning.
John stopped by the side of the road.
He held his head.
And suddenly...
Images started coming back.
His room.
His wife.
His child.
Their voices.
Their laughter.
The last time he was with them...
He had been sleeping at home.
Safe.
But where was he now?
Who had taken him?
Why?
John closed his eyes.
"I cannot die."
"Not before I know the truth."
"Not before I see them again."
Tears fell without him realizing it.
But this time, they were not tears of weakness.
They were the tears of a man fighting to take back his life.
He lifted his head.
And continued walking.
Home was where the answers were.
But he did not know...
That those answers would be more painful than he ever imagined.
- Writer
