SUB ROSA

3 ~ The Foreigner

She sprinted toward his wooden apartment, its structure slowly succumbing to time. Fear clung to her like a relentless shadow; her life hung in the balance. She couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that her mother sent her away from home earlier that day because she knew something was bound to happen that day.

She had witnessed the entire horrifying scene: how the cruel assailants restrained her father, took turns on her mom, and the chilling act of slitting her throat with a gleaming dagger afterward. She had been exposed to an array of brutalities that had, over time, numbed her to the suffering inflicted on others. But this time, it was her own flesh and blood, and the pain and anguish was unbearable. She felt an intense heat coursing through her body.

She hesitantly rapped her knuckles against the door, glancing anxiously over her shoulder to ensure she hadn't been followed. She couldn't bear the thought of dragging an innocent soul into trouble. Time seemed to stretch as she waited, but there was no response. Just before she mustered the courage to knock again, a disheveled woman, her clothing in disarray, hastily emerged from the makeshift wooden apartment.

Her weary eyes met those of the woman, and she immediately recognized her; it was Nimo's girlfriend, her face etched with anger. Within moments, Nimo himself appeared, about to call after his irate girlfriend who was now rushing down the bustling street. However, his attention swiftly shifted to the young woman sprawled on the ground. His initial intent to reconcile with his furious girlfriend dissipated in an instant.

Without hesitation, Nimo reached down, helping the girl to her feet. He scooped her up gently and carried her into his cramped room and with a firm click, he locked the door behind them, well aware of the potential consequences.

"Kadie," Nimo called out to the girl, who lay there on his bed, her body limp, and tears streaming down her cheeks. His voice quivered with emotion as he anxiously asked, "Where are your parents? What happened to them?" He couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible had occurred, and the questions tumbled out of him in rapid succession.

Kadie's voice was trapped by the vice of fear gripping her heart, unable to utter a word. The horrifying scene she had just witnessed replayed in her mind like a haunting echo. She couldn't forget the way her mother had looked at her from the window, her face etched with pain and sorrow, just moments before she drew her last breath. Her mother didn't deserve that fate.

She had turned her gaze to her father, whose eyes were locked in shock on her mother as she closed her eyes for the final time. Then, one of the men spotted her, and in an instant, Kadie bolted away. Her years as a track athlete in school served her well as she sprinted through the terrain. Her agility and speed had brought her to this secluded place, offering a temporary sanctuary. Yet, she knew she wasn't entirely safe, not until she could escape the country she had grown to love.

For a decade, she had called Senegal home with her parents. Now, she was forced to flee from the very place she had cherished to preserve her own life. Her mother was gone, and she had no news of her father's fate. All she could do was hope that he had somehow survived, for he was now the sole family she had left.

"Kadie," Nimo called once more, this time gently shaking her shoulder. "Talk to me, dear. What happened to your parents?"

"T-they kill-killed my-my mom," she stammered, her words breaking like fragile glass, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks like relentless waterfalls.

Nimo nodded, his heart heavy, trying to maintain his composure for the distraught girl before him. "What about your dad? Did they take him away?" he asked, his voice filled with dread at the potential answer.

"I-I don't know," she replied, her voice quivering, unable to fathom why they would have taken her father. Yet, she lacked the strength to delve into that painful uncertainty.

"Were you being chased?" Nimo attempted to piece together the unfolding chaos. Kadie nodded, confirming his worst fears. "Fuck!" he cursed, rising abruptly from the bed. His movements were frantic as he hastily gathered his most valuable possessions into a backpack, a whirlwind of anxiety driving him.

"Where are you going?" Kadie questioned, her voice tinged with worry, a small part of her fearing abandonment.

"We're leaving Senegal. You can't stay here," Nimo declared firmly, leaving no room for debate.

"But what about my father?" Kadie asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty and fear.

Nimo stood there, his gaze locked onto Kadie, as if grappling with the weight of her question. Just then, his phone rang, and he immediately answered it without checking the caller ID. Kadie observed as Nimo's demeanour stiffened momentarily, only relaxing when he noticed her watching him. He took the phone away from his ear and resumed packing, as if nothing had happened.

"Nimo, what about my father?" Kadie asked once more, her fear growing palpable.

"Dead," he replied matter-of-factly, as though they were discussing the weather. From under his bed, he retrieved a gun. "Get up, and let's go. Time is not on our side."

Kadie, anticipating this grim news, nodded timidly. She wiped away the tears that now flowed freely and stood up from the bed. Her head felt heavy, and her eyes were swollen from crying, but they had to leave as Nimo ordered. She understood that he was the only person she could trust now, the only person she had left. While not a blood relative, Nimo had been a close friend of her parents for as long as she could remember, sharing a special bond with her mother due to their shared Ghanaian backgrounds.

"Where are we going?" Kadie asked, seeking at least a vague notion of where she would spend the next few days, hoping it would be somewhere safe.

"Ghana," Nimo replied, securing the gun into the waistband of his jeans and draping his shirt over it.

He gently placed a cap on Kadie's head, partially obscuring her face, and cautiously opened the door to check for any immediate threats before they ventured outside. Satisfied that the coast was clear, he swung the door wider, allowing Kadie to step out first, and followed closely, securing the lock to his weathered wooden apartment.

"But we'll spend the night in Dakar. From there, we'll make our way to Liberia and, ultimately, to our destination," he explained, his voice a hushed assurance in the midst of uncertainty as they walked down the dimly lit street.