Chereads / Blood trade / Chapter 8 - Chapter 7

Chapter 8 - Chapter 7

By the time I wake up, it is already sun set.

The algid evening air makes me chitter uncomfortably as chilblains form on my supple skin. The eventide light flits in through the slats suffusing my bedroom in a warm sallow glow that originates from the carinated horizon. The streetlights spring to life blanketing the bustling city with its glory.

ka-ka-ka-ka-ka-kow-kow-kowlp-kowlp-kowlp-kowlp

A yellow-billed cuckoo flurries past the balcony of my room as I jump in fright from the bed. I step on the rug and stretch out my limbs yawning my head out.

I really slept well because all the grogginess that had overrun my entire body not long ago vanished without a trace and I felt light and buoyant. I stand up fighting the urge to jump about in megalomania while I squint at the receding sun half-covered in the distant horizon.

I dash out to the bathroom while humming Ayo by Chris Brown feat Tyga. I take a shower quickly not to catch cold that will always send Catherine in hell mode. Cold is her nemesis and she doesn't allow anyone in the house with it ,that's why she always checks on me if I have it , if I show the signs she will either send me hopping to the Hospital Agency or pile up blankets and duvets on me when I go to sleep at night. Either way, it's clear she dislikes a cold clime.

I exit the shower room and enter my room to change into the most heaviest of the numerous pullovers I had in my swanky wardrobe before settling down on the chair and a square-flat table in front of me stacked with piles of book.

It has been nearly a week since I've ever had proper studies and today I am going to make it up.

Opening the creased Solving Maths textbook , I dabble my fingers with saliva and open the pages skimming through the table of contents my finger stops at the Geometry section.

Yes. I clench my fists tightly as I turn off the verbose jukebox resting on top of the bedside table. The ceaseless tumult of it is truly maddening.

I proceed to pull down the Venetian blinds before switching on the lights overshadowing the evening sunlight that had brindled the walls a while ago , now dyed the checkered linoleum yellow moping it's way in from the west.

I get back to the chair and plunge into studies . I mean business .

After a long period of fruitful studying , I get up from the chair and stretch out my hands. At least the reading used up a bit of the rampaging energy in me.

Hunching my neck , I look down at my wristwatch. It is seven pm. Gosh! Time runs really fast. Before I take a step , the vexing strident voice of Catherine originating downstairs flits by."Chris! Come downstairs, I've called you for the umpteenth time now."

Crap!! She's too naggy.

I curse as I rein in my pent-up adrenaline holding back the urge to jump about . The energy in me seems restrained by propriety because Catherine never stomachs the thought of having someone doing crazy gymnastics in the house branding it as madness. Nevertheless , I always do them secretly when she's not around.

I hear her footsteps thunking up the flight of stairs.

I dash out of the room with celerity leaving the bedroom door creaking behind. With quick light steps ,I descend meeting her midway down the staircase.

"What were you doing ?" She hollers incensed. What's wrong? Besides it's none of your business to know what I'm doing.

"Studying obviously."Suppressing my ire, I say fudging a smile to placate her yet holding back the urge to jibe at her. Anyway I feel something is off. Why would she look for me and even come upstairs out of her own accord? I mean since we moved in this apartment she has never stepped upstairs claiming she had arthritic problems and her bedroom being on the ground floor. What's amiss now? I know not.

"It's good you were studying." She says while I heave a sigh of relief seeing that she has calmed down. I always try as much as I can to avoid bickering with her. I will die of anger if I mince words with her because her words are truly infuriating .

We descend the staircase in silence.

Outside, the streets are still alive and tumultuous. The brindled walls of the sitting room reflects the street light and vehicle lights that streams in through the windows shading them in commingled colours.

" I want to tell you something." She says as her facial features readjust into serious mode jerking me out of my train of thoughts.

"Oh?" Raising my brows ,I look at her quizzically as I sink in the couch while she goes ahead to switch on the television that has been dormant since we moved in this house , before slumping unladylike on the couch that curves inward under her weight.

I turn my eyes to stare at the TV which is gradually coming to life. It still looks new even though Catherine bought it a long time ago - approximately a year - from Sontey Complex.

I snuggle on my couch upholstered with first-class tapestry. All of them are sparkling new and beautiful. Miss Garie must have coughed up a fortune even though she is filthy rich not adding to the fact that she has a family to feed.

I sense her gaze on me traversing through the semi-dark distance between intersected by streaks of light originating outside , making me start having heebie-jeebies. What's wrong? Why are you staring at me like that? It's as if you've never seen me before. Aargh!! You think I'm not seeing you. Please stop ...

I squirm in my seat as I glance sidelong at her trying hard not to meet the crimson eyes.

The room is now dimly lit by the colorful projections dancing in the TV.

"It's about your friend." Finally a voice douses the tense atmosphere and I can sense her gaze on me shifting away to land on the TV . She pulls a stray of curly hair branding her face before tying it with a hairband.

"Who?" I ask with a nonplussed face as I look askance at her. She is busy titivating her long lustrous hair with a comb.

Hesitating for a span of a heartbeat , I move from the cozy couch and pour myself a cup of coffee from a VK thermos flask on the glass-topped table with wooden legs.

I take a sip confirming if it's tasty or gross before slumping back nearly spraying my self with the coffee. I have to admit that it tastes saccharin. I put down the cup after I have guzzled half the contents - sparing a fleeting gratitude to whoever who made it - before proceeding to switch on the lights which invades my vision with a blinding radiance.

"Rodgers." She says as she presses the remote control pointed at the TV changing the channel into BBC - her favourite TV channel.

"What about him?" I ask wrinkling my nose as doubts sprout on my mind.

" You saw that woman who came in here?" Catherine says as she points to a seat which I guess Mrs Lorenzo sat on in the afternoon.

" Yeah." I nod still unaware of what she is trying to insinuate.

"That's his-"

"Mother." I gasp interrupting her as I see through the crux. I am still in disbelief. Did I just despise my best friend's mother this afternoon? Why does reality have to play pranks on me? I even thought she was an anathema to me...

"Exactly, Anna Lorenzo. She's an old friend of mine , Rodger's mother." Catherine says before pausing to rub her eyes , "She told me what happened to his son , he died while saving us ." Her face drools dolefully as intense sadness gush through me.

"I don't understand." My heart aches and tears threaten to spew out.

I still can't believe that Rodgers is dead. How can he be dead ?

I had thought that maybe he was in a coma but reality strikes as Catherine confirms my worst fears.

Why?...Why?...Why?....Why?

The anguish that I have long suppressed comes bursting forth in warm tears cascading down my face as sheer vertigo overwhelms me .

The white lithopane cup in my hand plummets on the floor spraying searing drops and skidding fragments on my feet but I don't feel pain. My body is numb.

" Sorry for that but he's dead." She crosses the distance and smothers me while I cry my heart out. After a few minutes, I recover and wipe my eyes.

"So what happened to him mom?" I say looking at her mope eyes.

"He was killed by the Jakachinja-" she pauses mopping her face as tears brew in those crimson eyes "-and dumped in the highway to make it seem as though he was rammed into by a car." She appends as her voice croaked with restrained sobs.

I hold back the urge to cry instead I stand up to retrieve a mop and a dustpan from the corner of the room.

" How did he get killed." Pausing for a space of a heartbeat , I supply , " I don't understand mom."

I groan as I crouch to mop the sticky floor.

" You have to understand Jeff.... He was cornered chokehold by the Espionage Mercenaries and ....they...they demanded from him the direction to our apartment thank God he refused to tell them. However he was gagged and dumped by the roadside." She stammers her face dyed in horror as tears now spill forth from those large and crimson eyes.

"Why didn't anyone report mom? At least he would have been saved and avenged...Or were there no witnesses." I say as my face crunches up in thought.

"They silenced the witnesses." Catherine says in a pinched voice, face cupped in her handkerchief.

"Then how did Rodgers' mother know?" I ask my mind in pell-mell.

"A surviving witness." She says , disbelief brewing in her doleful eyes as she removes her face from the handkerchief.

"What!!!you mean .....you mean...." I croak as words jammed in my mouth. Shock could be seen twinkling in my black , red-rimmed Andrew's eyes.

"Yes! Chris , There was a carnage in Athousand Street but they cleaned the place before the police arrived." She says as if she were merely stating facts before her attention gets drawn by the TV.

" ....manslaughter in Oyugis County. The crime is presumed to have happened Yesterday's midnight and the bodies mysteriously disappeared. Curfew will take effect from nine up to five in the morning for the following week as police investigations commence. Stay tuned with OYUGICITIZEN NEWS for new updates."

The acute womanly voice corroborated with the blasting speakers drifts to me sending shivers down my spine, confirming my wildest fears.

Numbed with shock, I stagger to switch off the TV that seems to nauseates me .

I don't want anymore of these. I am sick of these multiple traumas that I fear if another one springs up again then I will be dead before I know it.

"I see...." I sigh absent-mindedly as I cannot think of anything to say. I am numb with shock and inexpressible grief. So he was killed by this heinous gang. He died bringing with him innocent lives just for me and my mother's safety . Why? Why? ... How can I repay this ? No ! No! I have to do something. I have to avenge him. But how ? A mere boy against a gang that even shakes the entire country at its core.Will I ever repay this ? Will I ? . This gang has walked over us for so long yet no one had the guts to stop it even the government which we had blind hope in.

Tears well up in my sore lackluster eyes as I totter towards the flight of steps leaving. I pause to empty the dust pan in the trash as I squint at Catherine who is weeping restrainedly. A blanket of gloom and silence engulf the house.

"Are you not going to have your dinner?" She asks breaking the silence with sullen eyes gazing into mine.

"No ,I'm ok." I look away and start lumbering up the flight of steps my hands on the railing.

I reach the room and sink into the bed breaking down in fresh tears that dyed the sheets wet the entire night.

Bang! Bang!! Bang!!

A resounding series of knocks on my bedroom door jolts me awake. I open my sore eyes but close them momentarily as the radiant streaks of early morning sunlight stream in.

"What is it mom?" I whine as I move reluctantly from the cozy bed , the chilling morning air attacking the bare parts of my body.

" Open the door!" Catherine's voice booms making me shake unwittingly. Why would she shout like that? Is there something wrong. Hope not.

I soliloquize as I grit my teeth holding back the urge to sink in the bed and sleep for another hour.

The mornings here in West Minster Street are damned chilly. Like everything else except the bed, even the floor feels uncomfortable to step on.

I twist the door knob only to meet with crimson large eyes that stares at me in fright. "What is it?" I ask as my eyes examines her trembling body before landing on a familiar laddish face standing meekly behind her. Wait , Is this not the boy I met at the hospital? Why would he be here?

The last time I saw him was when he informed me about the Jakachinja ruffians coming to me and he really saved me but now I can't help but frown because I've already started to develop the intuition that he carried misfortune behind his back. Something bad must have happened or is going to happen.

"They're coming let's be off ." Catherine shrieks childishly snapping me out of my reverie. I knew it . That they're coming sounds completely familiar but I still ask as trepidation starts to gnaw at me. Have they really tracked us down?

"Who?"I raise my head to look up only to see their figures hurriedly walking downstairs. I get back to my bedroom to tidy up. Luckily I hadn't slept in a sleepwear. I wear my Chuck Taylor shoes before quickly following behind them. "Hurry up , we're going to hide in Anna's house at the moment until they pass by. You'll not be going to school today I've already informed your school's probationary headteacher ." Catherine drones on as she casts me a perfunctory glance . "And don't you dare sneak off to school." I shiver . Having my thoughts spoken out is definitely unnerving. How does she always know my thoughts? Is she a seer?

"Hey." I pinch the boy as we near the steel door." Who are you ?Besides , why do you help us? How do you know that the Jakachinja are coming?" I attack him with a string of questions but disappointingly he just chuckles not answering any of them.

Catherine shuffles to the cupboard and retrieves a padlock clasped with a bunch of keys.

"Let's go." She says before yanking the door open. Suddenly , she stops in her tracks.