2023:
The thumping in my chest would have normally made me fall to the ground, gasping for air, but jogging round Haven up to ten times a day had made me adapt. Bola jogged beside me in the crowd of campers, not letting one breath escape her nostrils in any form of exasperation. She was like a machine. Many campers had come up with theories on how she became so tough even before she had gotten to the camp. They were either farfetched or close to the truth, but I had never heard anyone get it spot on. She had slipped mid conversation one time and spilled something about serving in the army, but never said more. Explained a lot of her 'attributes.'
As intimidating as she appeared, she was very attractive. If not for her utter lack of affection for any of the campers and her strict "approach me and you'll lose a finger" rule, she would have had boys toppling over themselves trying to get a whiff of her short hair. Her light chocolate skin covered her rough interior perfectly. Her long eye lashes shaded her brown eyes perfectly. Her figure looked like she hadn't missed a day of gym her entire life. She strode with confidence always; made any room she entered cold with silence.
A woman like her could get anybody to help her escape from Haven. But for some reason she chose me.
She saw something in me, she said. But it was clear as day why she needed me. I enjoyed her protection as her "boy boy" though. Kept the wolves away.
"Look. Now is your chance." She whispers under her breath.
"I don't know… I wouldn't want to get her in trouble."
"Don't mess with me Obe. Do it. Now!"
It was too late for emotions to rule my judgment now. The only way was to go on with the not so solid plan.
As we approached the front gate after the fourth lap round the haven, I throw myself unto the ground like I had been tackled from behind. I yelled in pain, grabbing my foot as if in tremendous pain.
"Halt" I hear Ahmed shout from the front of the group. Bola kneels by my side, pretending to be examining my not so wounded leg. Every one gathers around me like a bunch of ants around a dead bug, poking their nose through the crowd, trying to identify the source of the cry.
"Move, move…" Ahmed pushes the campers aside as he makes his way to the middle of the crowds nest formed around me.
"Mai wanan? You think you can fake your way out of morning exercise abi? Get up. Perseverance through the pain is what makes a good soldier" His face was as straight as a bullets path. He didn't look like he was going to let up.
"I… I can't sir" I stutter out as if in pain. The sprain ankle I had brought into the camp had given me the firsthand experience I needed to act this out. I could still feel myself overdoing it. But I just continued to pray it was just me.
I feel Bola's hands press down on my ankle and I understood instantly.
I scream in false pain, using my nails to scratch the dirt ground, gnashing my teeth and pressing my eyes closed.
"haan, what're you doing?" he asked Bola without a rise in his pitch. No show of concern what so ever.
"I'm confirming if the leg's sprained… it is… sir" Bola says with spite dazzled with sarcasm at the end of her tongue.
Ahmed stared directly into Bola's eyes and Bola stared back, unflinching. The cold stabbing stares sent shivers into the crowd around in the hot morning sun. Bola wasn't going to let up. She might've been the only one who didn't fear Ahmed in any way and was ready to face him squarely. They were a match made in heaven.
He grunts in disbelieve then slowly turns his dark glares to me. He squints his eyes as if trying to see if I was pretending.
"Two of you" Ahmed points to two young men in the crowd. "Carry 'am go infirmary."
"I'll go with." Bola states less than ask.
"Why? When did a sprained ankle become life or death something? You jog with the rest of us and they take him to the infirmary. Is that understood?"
Bola looked Ahmed in the eye, his anger growing. He wasn't one to accept disrespect. Although he couldn't dispose of them there, he could discipline her, if that's what he called it.
An act of righteous punishment he had said. He wasn't one to spare the rod and we didn't just take his word for it. He showed us.
A boy had been found trying to sneak out after curfew, probably for a rendezvous with one of the girls. Ahmed wanted to show an example to everyone else the next day. He wanted to show everyone why no one should cross him.
Stripped naked on a metal table, his hands and legs were tied to the legs of the table. His other companions dropped a bucket of cold water on his bare back for the whole camp to see. He wasn't sparing any sympathy. God forbid he did.
With each of his five companions by his sides, they unleashed whips that rose with blood and scream of pain in the air.
They didn't do it out of pleasure. No. At least they didn't show they were enjoying it. He girls cried and hid their faces from the scene. The boys squirmed, almost feeling each strike on our own skin.
I tried to look away, to shield my eyes, or what's left of my innocence, but Bola thought otherwise. She held my arm firmly and pulled me close.
"Look! Don't shield your eyes. Look. This is what we're running away from along with every other damned abomination Jerome is doing to the campers one by one."
She didn't have to remind me. The punishments kept growing worse with every week that passed by. It became less and less of punishment and more of torture. And they made us know it.
Other campers who had been here before us had said it wasn't always like this. The work and cruelty wasn't missed but it wasn't as severe. Not by a long shot. Begged us to wonder what changed? Coupled with the fact that campers started to get missing or dragged from their beds in the middle of the night with little to absolutely absurd evidence of crime against the Commander Ahmed and his crime lord Jerome, it was only natural for everyone to become scared. Some came back, some didn't. Some said they were tortured somehow, as if it broke into their psyche, while others said they remembered nothing at all.
After they were satisfied with the beating they had given him, they raised him up, carrying him across the yard like a dead animal being taken to be cooked. His blood left a trail on the dirt sand, some followed while others who could not stand the sight of it ran back to their rooms. Bola wouldn't let me run, I wouldn't have anyway. I wanted to see what they would do.
They dropped him on the floor, not caring if he was still breathing at all or not. There was a raised wooden structure that we had met there. Almost as if it was formerly used as a guillotine or a hanging post. Its top was so high; it had to be climbed from behind by a ladder to get on it. Ahmed watched as his men raised the half dead boy up. The man atop the post grabs his arms and ties it to the post's top. When they let go of him, he just dangled like dried cloth on a line swaying whichever way the wind blew. They weren't done.
They brought a large brick made out of concrete, solid and heavy from the way Ahmed's minions had carried it. It came with a short rope, which they tied to the bottom of his legs. They weight of the concrete pulled him down, but his tied arms kept him put. He was in pain but was too weak to cry out.
Ahmed didn't even say a word. He didn't have to. His actions were deafening enough.
The two boys carried me like a log of wood, almost as if not knowing where the source of the pain was. If I wasn't faking it, I would probably be yelling much more than I already was. My insistent scream fueled their annoyance faster than their empathy could quench it.
"Sorry na. Sho? Na only you don break leg before?"
"I tire o!"
I didn't care if I was overdoing it. I just wanted to be in the clear.
After they dropped me in the empty infirmary, Grace came running to my aid.
"Obe what happened?"
"He fell down jogging. Come dey cry like —"
"Thank you," Grace cuts my carrier off, focusing solely on my not so sprained ankle "you've done enough ehn. You can go."
They hesitated but didn't have any reason to stay. They had no ties with me and Ahmed hadn't said anything about waiting behind. So they left.
She would tilt the leg to the right and I would cry out in pain. She would tilt it to the left and I would still cry out in pain. She looked compassionate but skeptical.
"Sorry, sorry. Let me get some bandage, ice pack and pain killers to reduce the pain hm?..."
I nod gripping my eyes closed, playing out an Oscar winning performance.
She left for the doctor's office shutting the door behind her.
The room was calmer now with a small radio broadcasting news. Must have been something the doctor got for her to keep her company. But all the radio stations were down, so what was she listening to? The voice of the lady broadcasting definitely wasn't a Nigerian or African at all. How did they get an international frequency?
"The United States, with all its borders shut down for years now, has declared a nationwide lockdown. The president, at a press conference held earlier today at the White house courtyard said they are joining forcess alongside other world leading countries to destroy the threat to humanity.
"'The great United States of America has faced many, many trials over decades and one thing has remained constant through it all. We have overcome. Sadly, the reptilian threat our experts are calling "Dominants" have totally sunk the entire continent of Africa in its claws and teeth. We mourn the loved ones we have lost to these creatures. We mourn as a country and as fellow humans. The Military and humanitarian aid had been sent to assist the survivors but … with heavy heart, we have severed our ties with Africa.' "
The president paused and there was radio silence for over a minute. It was a painful silence and a silence that came with understanding. They have given up on us.
"'But we will not despair! As a people we have fought for our lives no matter what the threat may be. Be it the flu, terrorists, suicidal bombings, wars with Humans or damned reptiles from the depth of hell, we will always fight. And you know what? We will always win. The creatures of the damned have been seen riding the waves of the ocean heading down this path. It won't be long before they arrive at our doorsteps. We have built walls across the nation. We have all round security and observation protocols at our borders with drones surveying their every movement. We are ready for them.
'Most importantly we have been building, with the aid of allied nations, machinery that can stand its own against these creatures. Experts call it the D.O.O.M. Brave men and women from the army will be placed in the D.O.O.M bot suit and will fight for the safety of you and I. It is still being tested and will be ready before the Dominants reach our shores. We will keep you all posted but for now that is all we have for you. We will not stop fighting till we're all safe and sound. God bless the United States of America and May God help us all.' That was the president reassuring…"
Grace at that moment comes out of the doctor's office with the bandage on one hand and pain killers and ice pack on the other.
She gets a chair and places it beside my foot. She slowly starts rubbing the ice pack, observing my reactions. When I noticed she squeezed certain areas I would wince in false pain
"You know you can just come and see me anytime you want ba? You don't have to fake an injury or anything of the sorts." She said slapping my legs playfully.
"How'd you know?"
"Acting isn't your strongest field." She giggles before looking straight at me with a smile and bright eyes.
"Next time stick with knocking on the door."
"Ahmed watches over us like a hawk. Plus since they caught Jared past curfew, the restrictions became tighter. No one can go to the clinic except the person's actually ill. Can't go to the girls quarters for obvious reasons. And I needed to talk to you alone. I noticed Jerome heads to his quarters early to freshen up before heading back for the clinic during the morning jog. This was my best shot."
"So you missed me that much?" her smirk was teasing.
Over the couple of years I've been here, Grace had been like the big sister I never had. We grew close and she made me open up to her like a flower blooming in the morning sun. Might have kept something's hidden, but it still felt like she knew every part of me. She took care of me. She was kind. That was just Grace. So this might be the same story for every camper here, or I might be selling myself short. If it was the same for everyone Bola wouldn't have forced me here.
"I guess." She bursts into laughter. She might've been the only light in this place.
"Let me put the bandage around your leg so that it won't be like you entered the clinic and magically left here healed."
"Where are the other patients?" The clinic wasn't ever just empty. I can't remember it ever being so.
"Jerome doesn't really want anyone here anymore. He ordered me to give drugs to go for those that can still walk and for others that actually need help, he's converting the conference hall to the new clinic. Actually you met me packing up some supplies."
"Why?"
"I don't know. I've learnt better than to ask."
"It's getting worse out there Nurse Grace. Ahmed and his goons are drilling us hard." I dress myself up, sitting upright.
"Yeah I've seen." She said not raising her head up from the bandage she was wrapping around my leg.
"Worse, people seem to be disappearing. Ahmed's guys would come and take some campers to God knows where and never come back."
"I heard that some of them are being transferred to another camp."
"That's total bull!" I exclaim. She turned her head to look at me in confusion.
"Haan. Obe what is it? You're more agitated than normal" she stops wrapping the bandage and looks me in the eye as if trying to find something in them. It was just her second nature to be ready to help. With a sigh of frustration, Obe continues.
"We both know that's not true. Something's happened to them. And who is to say I'm not next? Or you?"
"Obe…" she relaxes her face muscles, placing her hand on mine trying to calm me. "Nothing is happening to anyone. You will be fine."
"And Jared? Jared that was freaking persecuted in front of the whole camp. We're prisoners Grace. We're being tortured every day in pretense of being trained. I'm tired Grace, aren't you?"
She let go of my hand and goes back to tying my leg in bandage. She didn't say a word for a moment, thinking of what she would say next.
"They brought Jared here after they brought him down from the post. Honestly it was a miracle he survived. He only…" her voice drifted off, getting lost in the sad recollection and the anger that came with it.
"Let's leave Grace. We can be free again."
She scuffs at my optimism, although my words hit her like a fast moving projectile. She seemed to have expected me to say it but still didn't want to hear it. Like dust on her shoulders she brushed the thought of freedom outside the walls off of it.
"There is no freedom outside these walls Obe. Only death."
"I was alive before I came here and I will live after I damn well leave. So will you. You're fighting the feeling off. It's possible. We have a solid proof plan, but it can't work without you."
"We?" She looks up at me with a bit of surprise. "Getting along with others aiy? That's good. I just wished they weren't filling your head with all these premonitions."
"It's Bola. Long story, I know, but trust me, it'll work."
I didn't trust the plan as well as Bola did that was for certain, but I didn't want Grace to notice. If she did, she wouldn't hesitate to throw everything out the window. But what I saw in her eyes was a glimmer of hope, flickering in the wind of despair. I held on to that.
She sighed. A heavy sigh that dropped the bondage and doubts and let in fresh air with new ideas.
"What do you need me to do?"