17.2

Charminar

Charminar.

Max charged into the night, blasting through faint whiffs of negativity like a jet through filmy wafts of cloud.

Just get away as far as possible from your money, your passport and your life as you knew it.

Bury the past… and push through to the end.

Max had always believed in God. But it was a weak and uninformed belief – no more, really, than a vague hope. He had never questioned it because it had never seemed particularly relevant.

Now it was relevant.

This is your chance to know….

17.3

Charminar.

Charminar.

In the silence of the night, Max settled into a natural, sustaining rhythm – the pounding stick marking the stride – the initial energy of renunciation so overwhelming that any lingering doubts about what he was doing and how he was supposed to be doing it were left unannounced.

But the initial boost was exhausted quickly.

In no time he found himself barricaded in a bleak area of deserted factories and dilapidated mills, lost in a dark, eerily uninhabited maze, completely isolated – like the last man on earth.