Connor decided to gather more information from Mafala.

He looked around the small, cosy hut. There were old electrical appliances scattered around the living room. Mafala was fixing them up so that he could sell them at the market. Nabulungi's typewriter sat on the table in front of Connor, a half-written paragraph of one of Arnold's stories on the paper.

Mafala reappeared from the kitchen and handed Connor a cup of hot tea, "Here you go, Elder McKinley."

"Thank you," Connor accepted it with both hands, "Where's Nabulungi?"

"She is still at school," Mafala sat down opposite Connor, "So, what is it that you wanted to talk about?"

"Nabulungi told me that The General is coming back?"

Mafala shook his head and sighed, "Nobody knows for sure. We can only hope that he does not."

"There must be something that we can do? Can't the authorities help?"

"The only thing we can do is to lay low, and try not to attract too much attention," Mafala advised.

Connor scoffed, "It's kind of difficult for us to not attract any attention, don't you think?"

"You boys did a good job at not attracting too much attention before," Mafala shrugged.

Before Kevin and Arnold came to Uganda. Before Kevin confronted the crazy warlord all by himself. Before the two of them insulted him in front of the whole village.

"Are you sure we can't call the police or something?" Connor tried.

Mafala mocked, "The police. I wish it was that easy, Elder McKinley."

"So you think that we should just hide away and pray that he doesn't find us?"

"I am afraid The General already knows where you boys live."

Connor threw his hands up in frustration, "Then what are we supposed to do?!"

They could leave.

They could leave before The General arrived.

Connor's conscience argued that they couldn't just up and leave the villagers to their own devices at the frst sign of trouble? He was not a coward, was he? The logical part of Connor's mind noted that it wasn't their fight, and they didn't owe the villagers their lives.

The door of Mafala's hut opened with a creak.

"Elder McKinley!" Nabulungi greeted cheerily, a bag full of books slung over her shoulder, "What are you doing here?"

"Hey," Connor waved, "Oh nothing, I just had something to discuss with Mafala," Connor turned to Mafala, "I better be getting back. It's almost dinner."

"Elder McKinley," Mafala called out as Connor stood up from the table, "You boys be careful, alright?"

"Yeah," Connor nodded, "Thanks, Mafala."

—

Poptarts was the first person Connor came across since he left Mafala's. They met on the way back to the mission hut.

"Is everything alright?" Poptarts queried.

Connor shook his head, "Nothing's alright, Pops."

"What is it?"

Connor stopped walking, "The General. He may be coming back to the village," he ran a shaky hand through his hair, "I'm really scared, Poptarts."

"Are you sure? That's- What are we going to do? Do you think he'll come for us?"

"I don't have a clue," Connor blew out a breath.

They didn't even have the support of the LDS church anymore. The nearest US embassy was in Kampala, half a day's drive away. If anything happened, they were on their own.

If his parents knew the situation Connor was in, they would freak. All of their parents would, maybe with the exception of Mr and Mrs Price.

"Are you going to tell the rest?"

"I have to," Connor sighed.

—

"I mean, Oxford and Cambridge are obviously great schools. But then Imperial College's in London."

"What?" Connor's head snapped around to look at Kevin, who was laid against Connor on the couch, computer on his lap.

"Were you even listening?"

"Yeah, yeah. They're great," Connor agreed blindly.

"Connor!" Kevin complained, "You should care more about where you're going to get your degree from. Education's really important. I shouldn't be the only one concerned about our futures!"

Their futures.

Their futures could turn to dust in an instant.

The General could obliterate all of their future hopes and dreams with just a pull of the trigger.

"I just don't think this is the biggest thing to worry about right now."

"It isn't?" Kevin frowned, "Then what is?"

Poptarts put down his book and tuned into their conversation.

"Uhh," Connor didn't realise he had said that out loud, "It doesn't matter where I get my degree from, I'm not planning to perform surgery."

"Of course it still matters!" Kevin insisted.

"Well okay, maybe it does. But I still won't be able to get into any of the schools you're looking at right now."

"You haven't even tried, and you've already given up?"

Kevin was right, they haven't tried. But was the price of failure worth it at all? Connor couldn't help but feel that the odds were stacked against them.

"Sometimes, giving up is the wiser choice," Connor muttered under his breath.

"What have you got to lose?" Kevin said, thinking that Connor was still talking about college applications.

Everything. They could lose everything.

"Kev, I need to tell you something," Connor sat up straighter.

"Umm okay?" Kevin looked worried.

Connor held Kevin's hand, "The General. He may be coming back to the village."

Kevin yanked his hand away from Connor's, "What?"

"Kevin, hey. Hey, look at me," Connor soothed.

"How- How do you know?" Kevin stood up from the couch, his eyes wide with panic.

Connor stood up too, "You need to calm down, Kevin."

"You can't tell me that he- he's coming back and ask me to calm down, Connor!" Kevin's voice was strangled, "What the fuck? What the fuck?! What- I'm- I need to-"

Kevin sprinted to the bathroom and slammed the door shut before Connor and Poptarts could follow.

"Crap," Connor tried the knob. It was locked.

Connor could only knock on the door, "Kevin, please open the door."

Poptarts pressed his ear against the wood, "I think he's sick."

"Shoot," Connor cursed, "What are we gonna do?" He knocked harder, "Kevin!"

"Whoa whoa, hey," Poptarts caught Connor's hand.

Elder Church stuck his head out from his room, "What's the commotion?"

Connor turned to Elder Church, "Can you run and get Gotswana?"

"It's midnight," Elder Church raised his eyebrows.

Connor snapped, "It's an emergency!"

"Connor calm down," Poptarts stepped in between the two of them, "It's too dangerous to go out now, you know that."

Connor knew that. Of course he knew that. He shouldn't have asked that of anyone.

Elder Church patted Connor's shoulder in reassurance, "What's wrong with Price?"

Poptarts answered, "Connor told him that Butt-effing-naked is coming back."

"Why the hell would you say something like that to him?"

"Because it's true?"

What did he think? That Connor liked to make Kevin panic for kicks?!

"Oh," Elder Church did a double-take, "Wait, WHAT?! He's coming back?!"

"Didn't I just say that? It doesn't matter right now," Connor dismissed with a frustrated wave, "Can you pick a lock?"

Elder Church stared, "Why would I know how to do that? I'm not a delinquent!"

"You just seem like you would know stuff like this," Connor shrugged, and resumed his frantic knocking.

Poptarts had to stop Connor before he broke the door down, "Maybe you can go wake Arnold up."

They heard the toilet flush, and the click of the lock.

"Kev? I'm coming in, okay?" Connor turned the knob.

"Should we go?" Poptarts pulled Elder Church along with him, away from the bathroom, "Call if you need any help."

"Thanks," Connor nodded at them and slowly pushed the door open, "Kevin?"

Kevin was on his knees on the floor, and his face hidden in his arms on the closed toilet.

Connor placed a hand on Kevin's back, which was soaked with sweat, "Why don't we get you cleaned up and then you can go to bed?"

Kevin, looking thoroughly exhausted, let out a shuddering breath, "I can't move."

"I'll help, c'mon."

Connor helped Kevin up sit up on the toilet, "Stay here."

Connor busied himself with helping Kevin to wash up and change. Kevin wasn't talking, and Connor had nothing much to offer but useless platitudes about how things were going to be fine. Things were most certainly not fine. After a while, Connor stopped trying to fill the silence with his rambling.

By the time he got Kevin tucked in bed, it was nearly two in the morning. Arnold was snoring away in his side of the room, and Connor had no idea how Kevin could actually sleep in here.

"Do you want me to stay?" Connor asked, despite being ready to collapse face-down on his own bed.

Kevin looked torn for a moment before shaking his head 'no'.

"Are you sure?"

"Just go to bed, you look like you're about to fall over."

"Okay. We'll talk tomorrow."

—

"There's nothing to talk about," Kevin shrugged over his morning coffee.

Connor was just about to drown himself in his bowl of cereal at that.

Both the stress of the impending disaster on the horizon and dealing with Kevin had triggered the start of Connor's nightmares again. As a result, he had less than three hours of sleep last night, and his tolerance for Kevin's antics was practically non-existent this morning.

"I mean," Kevin elaborated, as if sensing Connor's irritation, "What's happened has happened. I can't change it, I can't forget it, I can't help how my brain and my body reacts. There's nothing that you or anyone else can do to stop whatever this is. So yes, there's nothing to talk about."

It wasn't all wrong, what Kevin had said. There was nothing much that Connor could do about Kevin's...condition. But that doesn't mean that he wouldn't want to try.

Kevin continued when Connor didn't reply, "What are we going to do about...you know, him?"

Connor very much rather Kevin have nothing to do with The General at all, "What are you thinking?"

"I'm trying very hard not to think about it, to be honest," Kevin stated.

Connor nodded. He was too sleep deprived to ruminate on how he was going to protect everyone from the crazy warlord at the moment. He rubbed at his eyes tiredly, "Well anyway, I'm sorry to have sprung it on you like that yesterday. I didn't mean to make you panic."

"There probably isn't any easier way to break news like that, is there?"

"No, I don't think there is," Connor sighed.

Maybe if he understood Kevin's episodes better, he could know what to expect in the future and how he could help.

"Was that also what happened at the clinic?"

Kevin drained the rest of his coffee in one long gulp, "You have to ask Arnold about that. I don't remember what happened at the clinic."