WAR: Third Free Chapter

3

EVACUATION

She stood on the deck of the ship as it slowly berthed at the walls of Marshland. A rope was let down from the parapet as opposed to the walkway, only let down when resources had to be transferred from the ship into Marshland.

Laika had undressed the soldiers, even the guy in the control room, which she had tied up on his chair in only his under shorts. She had parked up all the uniforms and boots in a large duffel. She heaved it over her shoulder and began climbing the ladder with the conviction of meeting Zuka at the top.

She wanted to grin when she saw that she’d been right but Zuka immediately looked down her cloths, questions shone in his eyes.

“War. Cameroon is bombing this place in the morning and Nigeria isn’t going to do anything,” Laika explained urgently, dropping the duffel at his feet.

“What…?”

“I commandeered the ship, we have less than an hour to evacuate everybody before the soldiers at the wall suspect foul play.”

“But, Laika…”

“Hey,” she closed the gap between them, looking up into his eyes, she touched him, not caring if people saw them, “I need you on my side tonight. We can’t just die for something we know nothing about even if we are criminals. There are kids here that were unfortunate to be born in Marshland; they don’t deserve to die in a blast from another country.”

Zuka reached up and tenderly held her cheeks, he kissed her. For the first time since he’d led eyes on her seven years ago, he did what he’d been fantasizing about. But it didn’t last, there was no time to enjoy the warmth of her softness against his body.

“What do you need?” he asked, standing straight and ready to help anyway he could.

“Get dressed in a uniform. Give the remaining to people you trust and as surreptitiously as possible, get the children and willing women into the warship…”

“What about Buga?” he asked in trepidation.

Laika was past being scared. She pulled out the pistol from the duffel and cocked it, “I’m going to talk to him.”

“Talk…”

“Hurry, Zuka,” she whispered urgently, she ignored his concerned expression and leaned in for a fierce kiss before racing towards the stairs that would lead her down to Buga’s quarters.

As expected, the riffraffs who claimed to be Buga’s security and therefore bullied other prisoners because of their perceived importance, stood by his door. They straightened their stance from the lax position when they saw her hurrying forward.

“Hey, sweetness,” their self made leader said in a mocking tone which caused laughter among his crew. “You finally…”

Laika didn’t slow down; she used that momentum to slam her knee into his groin causing the rest of the crew to instinctively shift away from the damage, especially when her gun came into view. While the idiot groaned, she kicked open the door to Buga’s chambers and was shocked to hear him bark from his ragged mattress.

“Another step and she gets it!”

Laika went still. Her eyes surveyed the situation. The ‘she’ Buga referred to was the fourteen year old daughter of the murdered martial master, Kapi, currently dressed in a woman’s lingerie five sizes bigger than her. Tears tracked down her skinny cheeks and the anger in Laika rose so much it felt like her nose were emitting smoke, her hands shook from the furious intensity. It was clear what Buga was about to do, or had he done it already, Laika worried while her eyes ran down the child’s body, checking for bruises or blood stains anywhere near her privates.

“This is disgusting even for you, Buga,” she spat and raised the gun, aiming it at his head. But like the coward he was, he slithered behind the child, holding her hostage with a knife to her neck and managing to make her a target knowing Laika wouldn’t shoot the daughter of her former master.

“Don’t be jealous, dear Laika,” he chuckled sickly, “She was only warming the bed for your return.”

“She’s a child!”

“Not really, her breasts have sprouted and I got bored of her,” Buga pointed his left hand towards a corner of his chambers.

Laika refused to follow the direction of his hand, rather, her peripheral vision picked up the leg of a body and a pool of blood slowly soaking into the rough cement floor. Apparently, Buga had killed his Marshland wife. She hated to imagine herself filling that detestable position on her return, but she would have done it in a blink just to save Kapi.

A ruckus erupted at the door of Buga’s chambers but none of them looked away from their present standoff. Soon enough, the door busted in and Zuka was shoved in at gun point. He had already dressed in one of the uniforms and a glance at his direction showed who the betrayer was; apparently, Simon had joined Buga while she’d been gone.

Simon had on the uniform but must have turned on Zuka the moment he got the chance, which would be the moment he got his hands on one of the guns commandeered from the ship. Her eyes met that of Zuka for a split moment and as though he had actually opened his mouth to speak, she gleaned that the rest of the arsenal was still unknown and safe, except the one Simon held to Zuka’s head and the one she currently pointed at Buga.

“You stupid bitch!”

Laika didn’t flinch when a spray of spittle cooled her cheek from the smelly mouth of the guard she had kneed in the groin earlier.

“You aren’t so tough now…”

“Shut up, Romeh,” Buga snapped still hiding behind the child. “So, sweetheart, you care to explain what’s going on?” he asked in a tone that would have sounded reasonable but with Buga, reasoning was just impossible.

She had shifted from the door when Zuka had been shoved in so she stood in the centre of the room while her eyes swivelled from Buga’s hand at the child’s neck to Simon who held a small handgun; she wasn’t sure he even knew how to use it but there was no need risking it.

Time was essential at this point.

“Why are all of you wearing the Nigerian army uniform?”

“Your Excellency, they were going to overthrow you, Sir,” Simon replied, grinning at his perceived importance, especially as Romeh slapped his shoulder in acknowledgement of his bravery.

“Is that so?”

“They need to be punished, your Excellency,” Romeh added causing a ripple of excitement among the gathered crew.

Laika realized then that the perceived fear of Buga and his merciless brutality was what kept him as the governor of Marshland; no one would want to go against him, but standing there in his chambers, she experienced firsthand how totally idiotic his crew was. No one was thinking how they’d get the gun from her, everyone wanted the entertainment of a punishment, one that Buga made an event and regularly used in intimidating the inhabitants of Marshland.

“She gets it, Laika, she gets if you don’t drop that gun and then Zuka would…or maybe Zuka should get it first,” his tone was that of contemplation.

Time was running out. Her heart had been on steady acceleration from the moment she had seen the child in Buga’s bed. But now, her heart hammered for the time slipping away, it hammered for the several things that could go wrong, things that were worse than the present situation. For one, the only survivor in the warship could have managed to untie himself and radio the wall for backup and the entire rescue mission would have been a flipping waste of time.

“Drop it, Laika,” Buga snapped.

“Don’t do it,” Zuka spoke for the first time since he’s been shoved through the door.

Simon smashed the butt of the handgun on his head and he staggered forward but didn’t fall. He didn’t deign to look at Simon but his eyes pierced the air to fix on hers, and then he shook his head.

Apparently their telepathy had long since disconnected, Laika thought. If it hadn’t, Zuka would have been able to read her thoughts and the plan she mentally crafted as she slowly put the gun on the ground and kicked it away from her with her hands held in the air.

Zuka sighed in resignation and blatant disappointment.

Romeh rushed over, obviously intending to slap her or something to show power, but she raised her eyebrows threateningly and Romeh slowed his steps, stopped and asked, “What should we do, Sir?”

“Let the girl go, Buga,” Laika said and to her surprise, Buga shoved the girl off the bed, Laika flinched as she fell and obviously bruised her arm on the rough floor, but smart girl that she was, she got up and fled the room.

“Tell me, dear Laika,” he murmured like a kind grandfather would, “How many others are in this scheme to overthrow me?”

She could have told him everything wasn’t really about him. And then she would have told him it was a rescue mission, but the present plan in her head looked better than the initial one.

“Just me and Zuka now,” she replied as she watched him crawl down from his bed, his scrawny legs barely balancing his fat upper body. His gravelly breathing suggested a great collection of phlegm in his throat while his shifty eyes were the windows of an evil soul.

“Because Simon grew some sense,” he completed the obvious.

Buga marched to where she stood, his large stomach preceding him and slapped her quite hard. Laika’s neck snapped to the side at the force of his blow, her ear rang and she blinked to stop the tears that already dripped down her cheeks. She shook her head at Zuka who strained, heaving to come to her defence.

“You can no longer be my Marshland wife. Zuka will be flogged and then killed when I’m tired of watching him suffer,” he declared with authority and his riffraff crew jubilated as he turned and walked to his discarded shirt on the floor, he pulled it on over a really dirty pair of undershorts.

“What about her?” Romeh asked in a tone that suggested he would do something if his master didn’t.

Buga sighed as though in regret, “Take her to the latrine,” he declared and laughed when Zuka rushed to do something, but Simon relished hitting him with the gun again, this time he lost consciousness.

Laika wished she could’ve shared her thoughts with him. She wished she could cradle his head in her lap and made sure he was okay. Her eyes lingered on him as she was shoved out of the room.

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