The Evening Of The Morning

003

That had never been a good sign.
Agbo tightened his grip on his Ak. His Ak had a singular clip, while Goba's had two more clips wrapped with tape around his. They had more clips inside the hut, but if anyone was to have an extra clip attached to his gun, it should be Goba. If not for anything, for his great shooting ability. Agbo was good in close combat, and it was rumored that his punch tore through a bag of cement.

The motorcycle drew closer with increased speed and Agbo was now pointing his gun at it; his finger sat on the trigger like a lazy boy; ready to fire. Goba was still flagging them down with the torch. Agbo felt it before he heard it; a tiny force with an almost supernatural speed hitting his vest. It was painful, but Agbo had taken worse. Vest or no vest, the bullet wouldn't have pierced his skin. He was fully fortified.

Agbo had first doubted it; that with the aid of fetish powers, one's skin becomes bulletproof. The bullet would simply squeeze on contact as though it had hit a wall and fall to the floor. Only the pain of the bullet would be felt.

All these while, Boga who they thought was sleeping, sat behind the thatched hut with a small, but precocious girl. They sat astride on a bench and he touched her through her slacked MTN T-shirt. And she was smiling and making all kinds of pleasured expression. When he heard the gunshot, he quickly rose to his feet and the girl took off, scampering into the thickness of the woods.

"Tani!" Boga called after her. He wanted to chase her, but he heard the loud crash. Boga ran around the hut and saw as Agbo shot two men on their legs. Gabo followed with a kick and cuffed them together. Right hand to left. The men had bruises, and the one by the right had a white stick protruding through his elbow. Boga who rushed closer saw that it was his bone and not a white stick.

"Get the bag!" Agbo yelled towards Goba, who took to his heels. Inside the hut, Goba grabbed a small first aid bag, and as he ran back his barret flew off but he was quick enough to hold it in place. He placed the bag behind the men and unzipped it. Then retrieved two syringes, already dosed with the right amount of rephnol to put them to sleep. He injected half the dose, first, to intoxicate them and maybe extract some information from them. "It would help with the pain." He told the bruised man when he tried to be stubborn. Squad 4or had agreed not to take life that Christmas unless it was out of their hands. That was why Agbo hesitated for long before shooting the rider.

Goba helped in transferring the two men into the hut, where Agbo worked on bringing out the bullet. He had a degree in medicine and was familiar with things doctors do.

The pain went away alright, but the man named Theo was feeling strange waves expand in his head. His head was growing, like a balloon, filling up the hut. "What did you do to me?" The man asked, soggily; fully defeated by the anesthetic.

Goba left the hut.

"Where are you boys coming fr-"

"You don't know what you have done." The man interjected, battling at the edge of consciousness. "You have ended the world."

Agbo laughed. He knew the injection would make him say all kinds of things.

"You don't know what you have done." The man said again.

"What have I done?"

"You have..."

"Hey!" Agbo slapped his cheek. "Stay with me!"

"You have ended the world."

Agbo laughed again. "By shooting you? Common tell me! Where are you boys coming from?"

"You have ended the world..."

Agbo completed the man's dose and started working on removing the bullet. He didn't even bother with the other man, who had a bone protruding through his arm. He had injected him with a higher dose and he fell under the influence immediately. They didn't have the equipment to take care of him, although they had phoned an ambulance, which was at least two miles from their location. And adding the time that would be delayed, it would take a while before they arrive, if they would even come. Agbo calculated the man's time to be short. After taking out the bullet, Agbo cleaned and covered the wound.

Goba returned with the hot knife he was heating outside. He knelt beside the other man, stretched the broken hand out and wanted to chop it off, but Agbo said, "Wait!"

"What?" The hot knife was still up high.

"let us call him." Agbo said.

"And how do you suppose we do that? There is no time. What if he is not close?"

"Let us try."

Agbo said his name inwardly with the hope that he might hear them. But after some minutes Goba reminded him that there was no time. "The knife is getting warm."

Agbo shrugged, then stuffed wet cloth in the man's mouth and held his shoulder down. Goba raised the dagger and had to cut thrice before the hand separated. He placed the hot knife on the open outlet and it shrilled.

"He might not make it." Agbo said as he wrapped the outlet with a bandage.

"That is for his god to decide." Magaga told Agbo, through telepathy.

"Magaga is here," Agbo whispered.

"Yes, he already talked to me." Goba said, "He told me to carry on with the amputation."

Magaga materialized at the door of the hut. He was average, but around the Squad, he was a short man. Like Agbo, Magaga loved to stay shirtless, but today he wore a black T-shirt that hugged his body and was tight around his upper arm and a black combat trouser. His boots were muddy. He entered the hut and sat on a bench.

"Can you do something for him?" Agbo asked.

Magaga shook his head. He had the demeanor of one that was tired.

"What do you mean?"

"I have something to tell you."

"Heal this man first."

Magaga stood up and reached for the men, placing hands on their thigh. "I can only stop their bleeding, I can't do much now." For the first time, Agbo noticed that energy left Magaga's body. Magaga moved back to the bench.

Wonder shall never end, was what Agbo always said when Magaga performed his miracles.

Agbo joined Magaga on the bench and carefully brought out the half cigarette from his pocket and lit it. He inhaled with intensity, allowing his lungs to savour the smoke for some seconds before he expelled it. He passed it to Magaga who rejected it.

"You know cigarette is not my thing... I saw something today. And was on my way to tell you before the gunshot rang out."

"What did you see?"

"Why don't I show you."

This was one of the things Magaga could do that Agbo had thought to be impossible until he witnessed it himself. Magaga was a man, who reincarnated himself through his son. Immediately he had sex that night with his wife, he slept and never woke up. burial rights were performed, and few mourned, and the ones that didn't, only a few, knew he had just transferred his life to a seed in his wife. She gave birth; a child with the brains of an adult. Once he turned eighteen, after absorbing the culture, he wandered off to find new people, culture and love.

He would mingle with them, contemplating whether or not to make his powers known, then born himself into their culture. It had continued like that for centuries, and the more he reborn himself, the more his metabolism adapted to the climate. Magaga had answered so many names, and had had so many careers; he had been a god, dibia, farmer, wrestler, healer, driver, singer, bartender and so much more. But in this life, he was a vigilante named Magaga. Born of a woman named Chidera in IMO state. The life he lived before he met Chidera, was of a soldier who fought the Biafran war. He fought the first and second world war, and during the Biafran war, his already thick skin shielded the bullets, as it had always done, and minimum casualties, which healed up rapidly, came from close range explosion.