A Touch of Reality

Three

THREE

KELECHI FELT LIKE her intestines were struggling to escape. The gray matter pouring from her mouth splattered on the helpless humans lying about, but the owners of the bodies didn’t seem to notice or mind. Not that it changed anything, because she couldn’t have moved even if it meant her freedom. She bent over and held onto her knee for support as she retched.

When she was relieved enough to look up, she found a thin black man looking down at her. At five feet one inch, she got that a lot, which was why she’d developed a technique to match up. Her body reacted accordingly. Kelechi squared her shoulders and stood as straight as her hurting abdomen allowed and stared at the man right in his eyes. Either he didn’t notice her confident pose, or he didn’t care. He just continued to look at her as if he didn’t see her at all. Without realizing it, she averted her gaze and focused on the ammunition slung over his shoulder and the gun hanging from his waist. The flatness of his eyes made Kelechi uncomfortable.

“You’re the new arrival?” he asked.

Hate shone in Kelechi's eyes. She wanted to clamp her fingers around his neck and squeeze until he became limp. They kidnapped her and had just wasted a life, yet here he was talking like she was there by choice. She wanted to state her annoyance at being forced to stay with the smelly dying bodies. She wanted to complain about being exposed all night without food or drink, but common sense told her she might risk making a bad situation worse.

She closed her eyes and counted to ten, a trick that never failed to calm her. When she opened them, she made sure they were as devoid of emotions as his were. “Who do I negotiate my freedom with?”

“Follow me.”

As he led the way towards the lengthy building, another scream tore through the air, short and weak, but as familiar as the sound of the machete slicing through flesh and bone. Kelechi heaved a sigh expelling air she didn’t know she had been holding. She couldn’t walk fast enough as they made their way to the building. She couldn’t even look back at the people she left behind or the activity going on at the other end of the yard, she just wanted to get out of that pit, and fast. She had been afraid that she’d end up like those people wasting there. Those victims probably couldn’t afford their ransom. Thankfully, she could call her secretary and Lucy would oversee the gathering of funds or the mobilizing of her family if the demand was much. Kelechi would never be among those rotting alive or being hacked into pieces. That was why she’d put in so much time and effort in work.

The building was a seemingly endless block of a wickedly high fence that reminded Kelechi of the walls of Jericho, with doors at about five ft from one another going all the way to where she couldn’t see. She spotted figures on the roof, probably sentries no doubt armed better than the devil.

The guard led her to one of the doors, which opened after the first knock. He exchanged a slight nod with the man who opened the door, then entered and took a seat. The chairs in the small room were all occupied and the only space to sit was on a bench… between two men. Both wore black shirts that Kelechi could bet hadn’t seen water or soap in months. As they puffed on the wrap wedged between their fingers and exhaled clouds of smoke, which further added to the choking odor of sweat, smoke and something else she didn’t care to identify, they looked like they were in their first trimester of madness, with their eyes as bloodshot as though suffering from conjunctivitis, their lips so black like charcoal was rubbed on them. One would think that they were chosen because of the similarities in their features; rough hair, bad skin, dirty hands with broken, even dirtier nails.

Of the eight men in the tiny windowless room, only the one who’d brought her looked marginally sane. Kelechi started to suggest that he sit with his friends to free up the chair he occupied, but a door opened at the other end of the room, bringing in much needed fresh air. Only the air wasn’t fresh. It smelled of rotten meat yet was better than the choking confine she’d been subjected to.