ON THE RUN (EPISODE 6)

Gosh! Five thousand naira vamoosed just like that, she almost said as she pressed, from afar, the security on her car-key. She mumbled and grumbled, frowning at every LASTMA official that walked pass her. She never thought she’d have anything to do with traffic wardens, let alone giving them a dime to keep their mouths shut and eyes, blind to her offense. She entered her car, ignited the engine, then paused for some minutes to muse.

“I should have said no sef and perhaps the useless boy wasn't that fine at that time.” She said, thoughtlessly hitting the horn of her car. “Dele is not the serious type, wonder how many ladies he has slept with sef. Chinedu can’t go pass two rounds, always saying ‘I’m going home, I’m going home.’ Chai, I must get back Dede from Salewa by all means. I swear.”

The several honking of Ireti’s car caught the attention of the LASTMA officials who passed by. And to be security conscious, a delegate was sent to confirm what the problem was. The knock on her window caught her attention, she rolled her eyes at the personnel, hissed at him, stepped on the gas and zoomed out of their compound. She wasn't ready for any interrogation nor pay any fine. The roads in Lagos, busy as usual, vehicles joining the long queue caused by the deadlock, street hawkers running helter-skelter in the traffic jam, trying to beat the competition raised among themselves. Having had her share of the traffic in the morning, Ireti couldn't afford to hit another this scorching afternoon. So she wheeled her car to Salewa’s house, postponing all she had to do to the next day.

Everywhere seemed quiet, too quiet for a place that had an unrepentant marriage with noise. Salewa played her music loud always, plus the mooing sound of her air conditioner condenser said all about her presence. Salewa wasn't home. Still, Ireti doubtably pressed the doorbell to be ascertain. She turned around, then groped for her phone in her bag to reach Salewa.

Gbam! The gust of wind slammed Dede’s door close. Ireti jerked in fear. She dialed Salewa as she walked quietly towards the BQ. Dede, whose ears had been engulfed in a music-playing headphone, lay on his bed, fanning himself with a long forgotten sport newspaper. Ireti got in front of Dede’s door, with her hand holding her phone to her ear, counting in silence to ten before knocking. Though his hand was swift in blowing air, still it wasn't enough to get him comfortable, Dede stood up, and walked to the door.

“Hello? Ireti, are you there?” Salewa’s voice protruded out of Ireti’s phone as she stood, dumbfounded, staring at Dede who just opened the door.

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Pow! Another gunshot, tripling their pulse rate. Was the scout shot? Or did the scout encounter an impromptu defense? Sanmi’s brain, like Google, ransacked all possible answers to these bugging questions. He reached for his binoculars which hung idle on his neck. Not too far, he saw the scout scampering back. And with deep relief, Sanmi smiled, laying aside the binoculars.

In no time the scout got to them. Breathing heavily, he sat on the ground, placing his rifle on his widely stretched thighs, his hands behind his back, serving as a pivot to support his body.

“Young man, calm down. What happened over there? What did you see?” Sanmi squatted before him, hoping to get a quick response.

More of breath than words, the scout said, “they killed both of them.”

“Who killed who?” Sanmi leaned forward, jostle the scout by the shoulder. “Come on talk to me.”

“Kazeem and Clement, sir.” The scout said, cleaning his sweaty face, then pointed to the west. “They are there right now on the tree, shot by some masked gunmen.”

“Where are the men?”

“They ran away. They went northwards in a white SUV.”

As Sanmi stood to his feet, the soldiers, who had been eavesdropping, scurried into their ranks, including the scout who took five.

“We are going to check on our soldiers, whom the rebels killed over there. We going on a tactical pace, four up six down.” Sanmi pointed out four soldiers, the scout inclusive. “You’re going with me. The rest of you must stand at alert to give us covering fire.”

“Yes sir!”

“Ok. Let’s go.”

Sanmi with the four soldiers tiptoed northwards in an extended file, fifty meters ahead of the remaining six soldiers, who also advanced behind them. They reached the scene of the death which prompted them to be more careful. The six soldiers, fingers on trigger, laid on the ground to conceal themselves. While Sanmi and the four moved ahead to the dead that hung on the tree.

It was an headshot, and with a note hanging around their neck. The message in the note wasn't written in English, so Sanmi couldn't read it let alone understanding what it meant. He brought out his bayonet, then cut down the dead soldiers from the tree.

“Wrap them up.” Sanmi instructed.

And almost immediately, the tall grasses, sighted from afar, began to bow, an unknown number of fast moving beast dashed towards them.