Daniil Kashin and Ruslan Tushentsov

The car's interior exploded with the icy voice of Dani, Ruslan's enemy and Ilya's friend: "Explain the logic again. Voluntarily going into the forest to feed mosquitoes and eat canned food. This is your plan to save... what exactly?" While driving, Ilya nervously tapped his fingers.

• "Just to talk. I think you need to make peace." From the back seat, from under the pulled-up hood, came the voice:
• "Throw it in the trash where it belongs." "Oh, he's alive," Dania said, falsely overjoyed. "Otherwise he was as silent as a dead man. It would have been better if that had been the case." Ruslan abruptly pulled down his hood.
• "My affairs are none of your concern. At all. Ever."
• "Guys..." - Ilya began. "Shut up!" they barked at him in chorus, not taking their angry glances off each other. "Then just turn around and take me back," Dania demanded. Ruslan chuckled sarcastically.
• "He won't turn around. He promised himself to "bring us to our senses." By the way, Il, is there a connection here? Or are we in your trap?" Ilya was silent, looking at the dirt road stretching ahead. This eloquent gesture was a better answer than any words. Danya leaned back hard in his seat.
• "Excellent, we are hostages of your good nature." “Hostled by my own stubbornness,” Ilya corrected. “Three days of such fun communication lie ahead.” The car rushed forward, taking them further and further from civilization, towards the lake, in a place long forgotten by someone.