Pokot: The Sacred Path to Warrior-Hood Page #3

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then it spreads to the house.

Better go. It's getting cold.

Thanks.

What are you doing here?

F***ers turned me down again.

Six times! It's no accident.

What are you talking about?

- My brother. He's in an orphanage.

I want custody.

My dad's a drunk and abuses him.

Mother cries all day.

I almost got him,

but someone told the cops that I'm unfit.

What?

- My lifestyle, drugs, no place to live.

Nonsense. You're a good person.

It's true you have no place to live

but why don't you move in with me?

I'll confirm. Show me where to sign.

Thanks, but I can manage.

You're right, it was him.

Wnetrzak reported you twice.

I'll kill the bastard.

We can't talk here.

Stop by my place tonight, for cake.

I expected to see a policeman,

but it's you.

Well, it's nice to see you.

How's your dad? Very interesting man.

Get to the point, Ms. Duszenko.

- Duszejko.

Did you see anything suspicious

at the crime scene?

Yes. Tracks.

- What kind of tracks?

I already told the police.

Hoof prints from roe deer.

Barely visible when the policemen arrived

because of the sleet.

But I saw plenty of them.

Small, round prints.

What do you make of it?

Who might have left them?

Animals, who else?

It's a shame they can't be questioned.

I'm sure they would tell us quite a story.

I'm interested in astrology.

As a hobby.

I did a birth chart for the police chief.

Revealing stuff.

- Any footprints?

Not that I noticed.

The police chief's animal sign's in Saturn,

his ruling Ascendant in Aries.

That means death by a blow to the head

caused by an animal.

Come on in!

Hi.

This is my place.

I bought three glasses for the occasion.

Thank you.

Where do you sleep?

On this sofa bed.

I'm a minimalist.

Living a vagabond life has taught me

not to own too many things.

Just eighty items, no more.

It makes me feel free.

- Only eighty?

And what are they?

Please sit down.

I have an electric toothbrush,

a dental guard in a box,

a bar of soap, soap dish, nail clippers,

a fast-drying towel...

- I'm a magnet for stuff.

I keep everything I find.

The more useless, the better.

And Matoga is a collector.

- Who?

My neighbor. I call him that.

You all right?

- I'm okay.

He keeps his things well-organized

and knows what each one is good for.

For instance,

he has a strawberry stem remover.

Can you imagine?

And a lemon slice server. Stuff like that.

He may have

testosterone-related autism.

What?

Men develop it as they age.

They isolate themselves,

stop communicating,

lose their social skills.

Start reading about WWII and Hitler.

Yeah, that's quite common.

- That's right.

Tastes good!

Thanks.

I made it myself.

My grandma's recipe.

She taught me this rhyme:

"When I was a tot,

my hands smelled like snot..."

Good people, like Dyzio,

they grow up slowly.

Later from an extended childhood

they pass directly into old age.

That's the effect of Mercury

in their charts.

They are active, curious loners.

Is this what you do?

Wow, even my store's here!

I'm working on a remote control system

for the town's street lights.

It saves energy,

over 30 percent a year.

Let me show you something.

You have the world in your control!

I can even activate an alarm...

Wait! Zoom in on this.

...two meters of snow,

5 AM, cold as hell...

Wait, Duszejko's coming.

Watch, this'll be a riot...

I'd like to report a murder.

Murder?

- It's a young wild boar.

Off-season hunting.

- Some coffee?

Have a look.

This is March.

Boar hunting is forbidden.

Although logically it makes no sense:

You're allowed to kill someone

on February 28th,

but the next day you're not.

It's absurd.

He died an agonizing death.

Had been shot through the lungs.

Calm down.

What do you expect us to do?

Track down the perpetrators,

punish them, ban hunting.

They even shoot dogs.

Stray dogs can kill animals too.

It's legal to shoot dogs

if they are on the loose.

You have dogs, too, don't you?

Last year we had complaints about them.

I don't have them anymore.

I always wonder why old women, I mean...

why women your age are so

worried about animal welfare.

Don't they have enough people

to take care of?

My grandma has seven cats,

but she still feeds

all the strays in the area.

What's this?

What the hell are you doing?

These are the remains.

I keep them... in boxes,

neatly labeled.

Fur and bones.

One day it'll be possible

to clone all those murdered animals.

And that could be a form of reparations.

Holy sh*t.

You're a real trip, lady.

The sight of blood puts you off?

But you don't mind blood sausage, do you?

In the middle of the road?

Hello!

Ms. Duszejko? Wnetrzak has disappeared.

His guard called me. He moved his foxes.

Or someone stole them.

He'd never let them out himself.

Maybe he had no choice.

He should've been at the store

to do inventory this morning.

When he didn't show up

I tried calling him, but his phone was off.

He'll be back.

Maybe he's off hunting.

It's not like him to just disappear.

Maybe someone was after him?

JUNE - hunting season for roe deer,

wild boar, fox, raccoon dog

They printed it! Look!

Let me see.

What happened?

Oh, just too much sun.

A full-fledged translator!

Great!

Unfuckingbelievable!

I found a body.

Dead man in the forest.

Stay away from me!

Who are you?

A Czech entomologist.

I study the Cucujus haematodes...

What?

- Never mind. There's a dead man over there!

Cucujus is a kind of insect.

You have a phone?

We must call the police.

My battery died yesterday.

There's an old corpse in the forest.

My name? Boros Schneider.

Where am I? By the fox farm.

Off the road, in a ditch.

We'll wait. A woman is here too.

We have to wait here.

Do you want to see it?

Gladly.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Are you from the Valley?

I'm from Olomouc, from the university.

It looks like it's been here

a few months.

I know because I study insects

that eat saprophytes,

organisms that feed on dead matter.

Quite a profession you have!

Crushed to death.

Wild boars trampled him.

Did you know that you live

in Europe's southernmost habitat

of the Cucujus haematodes.

Really?

What does it look like?

Like this.

I've seen them before.

- Just imagine,

your state forest officials have no idea

that article 12

of the EU Habitats Directive

calls for all member states

to protect reproductive habitats.

They permit the logging of trees

in which insects have laid eggs.

Later, those eggs will hatch into larvae.

The larvae end up in a sawmill and die.

And all this destruction passes unnoticed.

Every log around these forests is full

of Cucujus haematodes larvae.

They log the trees,

then burn the branches

which are full of larvae!

It's a holocaust.

And nobody knows about it.

Call me Duszejko.

Schneider. Boros.

Hi.

Boros.

Well...

I'll come some other time.

What happened?

Nothing,

I'm going to pour

a concrete floor

and may need a hand.

No problem, we'll help you, Boros too.

Schneider.

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