Chapter 2: Moving On
They were moving now. There were more people, coming down from another hill. It looked like they were already with the soldiers. The group, larger with my village's survivors, headed back into the hills.
I sat up, debating what I should do. There was nothing but death in the village. And I was in the middle of the jungles of Nigeria, alone, and without my passport, but not that it would do me any good. I doubt the new government would honor my citizenship anyway. I couldn't bring myself to go rifling through the village to dig it out. I didn't want to see anything there now.
I coughed. If I stayed, I'd die. I wasn't completely stupid. Rebels, new regime, ethnic cleansing—I was in the middle of it all, and I doubt the dead rebels in the village were the only ones nearby.
Staying wasn't an option. But my conscience wouldn't allow me to just up and join the Americans and survivors. I was pretty good at navigating my way around in a city, but the jungles were all green, and beyond the hills here, I had no idea which way was up.
"Where would I even go?" I said aloud to the foliage. The closest embassy was days away by foot, and I didn't know how to get there. Cameroon was closer, but—
I glanced to the group moving up the hills.
"That's where they're going," I whispered to myself. And that was really the only place I could go.
I swallowed. The plan wasn't perfect in my head, but it was a start. I crawled to the dead rebel, ignoring the blood and . . . other parts. A pistol was holstered on his leg, and a rifle in his hands. I held my breath, blocking the scent of blood and sweat on him. I yanked the pistol from its holster. There was a knife in a sheath, and I undid his belt to take it as well. I noticed a canteen too.
Might as well. I grabbed it. Shakily, I stood. I draped the canteen by its strap over my shoulders, and then strapped the knife and sheath to the waist of my cargo pants. The gun I stuffed into a pocket.
And then I thought of all the horror stories of people accidentally shooting themselves with their own guns. Hurriedly, I pulled the gun out, and checked the safety. It was off, I think. I wasn't really sure, so I clicked it to be on. Then I pointed at the trees, and pulled the trigger.
No shot. I let myself breathe a little easier, and repocketed the gun.
The group was out of sight now. Afraid I'd be lost, I ran towards them. My movements were still shaky, but I tried to stay quiet.
I would just follow them, lagging behind and out of sight. Hopefully, I'd make it to Cameroon with no one the wiser, and would be able to avoid anyone I knew and make it to a transport to some safer republic.
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It didn't take long for me to catch up. I nearly gave myself away, jogging through the brush. A group of survivors didn't really move quickly.
I was tempted to just give up my lone journey, but the picture of myself cowering in the hills during a massacre came to mind.
I stayed back.
Your mind starts to drift when you're alone, and mine was no exception. I thought of college. I finished earlier this year, graduating in social work. It's kind of a hypothetical field, or at least seemed that way to me. I didn't really know what to do, how to really use that degree. But my original idea was to help people.
Looking back on it now, I think an English major would have trained me just as well. But I'm starting to realize the deficiencies are my own, and not really the training. I think the carnage at the village proved that enough.
Nigeria was an adventure, a chance to prove to myself I could make it. I'd been doing well, and I felt I did connect with the people here—most of them anyway. I was still green at it all though. So far I'd only been an extra set of hands at the village. There was a humanitarian there, an English woman, but she traveled to the city last week for supplies.
I wondered if she was still alive.
A crack of wood jolted me from my thoughts. I froze, watching ahead.
"LT," I heard a voice.
Slowly, I moved behind a tree. I sank to the base of it.
"Checking for stragglers," the voice said. There was a tension to his voice that suggested 'stragglers' weren't welcome.
His footsteps were off in another direction, heading away from me, so I peered around the tree.
It was a light-haired American, blonde, but you could tell he was hiding it with camouflage paint. His rifle was raised to his eyes, hunting. For me. I ducked behind the tree and sat tight.
"Red!" I glanced around the tree again, this time from a snake-like position beneath the plants around me. There stood an African American soldier.
"Yeah," Red said. He glanced over the jungle, over my head, and turned back to the group. "Thought I heard something, Zee."
'Zee,' as he was called, looked over the way they'd come, missing my presence too.
"We have a no-go on air support," Zee said.
Red swore. "Still?"
Zee nodded. "Better pick up the pace."
With that, Red half-jogged to a cluster of survivors. I saw one of them was Nmumbu. I was glad he was alive, even if he didn't trust me.
I found that even though the pace was slow enough, it was tiring to dodge being discovered. Red had stopped and looked over the way they'd come three times, and each time I stopped, dropped, and hid.
It worked.
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When night came, I realized this wasn't a great idea. I couldn't see well at night, and the fear of losing the group completely was unnerving. It made me stay closer, but yet I could only be so close.
Red, who seemed to be the designated caboose, kept searching. I knew at night he'd have the advantage.
Especially when I tripped over a tree root and fell.
I nearly swore aloud. I stayed down, trying not to think about what else might be in the jungle, and waited until I heard the consistent movements ahead. I didn't alert anyone, luckily.
I waited five minutes before I got up. I convinced myself if I didn't, I'd have a swarm of American soldiers shooting me in the dark. I doubted I looked like the enemy, but that wasn't comforting.
It started raining next as I was playing catch-up. Rain and darkness were two of a kind, and a bad combination at that. I looked ahead where the group had gone, but there was no movement to see. I could see leaves moving, but it was the weight of the rain rustling them. And the noise was disorienting.
The panic overrode my sense of fear of being discovered. I started to run after the group.
And after running five minutes, I realized I wasn't catching up. Somehow, I'd lost them. You'd think a group of people wandering through the jungle would leave an obvious trail, but to my untrained eyes and senses, they were ants in a cornfield. I ran harder, moving in what I hoped was the right direction. The stupid in me just figured I would find something eventually if I tried hard enough.
It might have been 20 minutes or an hour later when I slipped on the muddy ground, and fell on top of some plants. Something jabbed against my side, and I cried out.
I couldn't kid myself. I was out of my element. Everything my parents had said before I left came to me then, the warnings, the concern about the unstable area, being in the jungle, bizarre diseases, and just being a simple 20-something girl in the middle of uncivilized land.
I closed my eyes and tilted my chin to the sky. The rain streaked down my face, rolling into my mouth. I'd finished my canteen hours ago. I had the presence of mind to unscrew the cap on the canteen and hope for the rain to fill it. I wasn't sure how well that would work, but I did it anyway.
And then I let myself rest.
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a/n: And there's that chapter. Please review--I realize there isn't a separate section for this movie, but hopefully someone out there likes this.
Below is a preview of chapter 3:
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The human body is amazing. Just a slight noise when you sleep, and your mind can call you to consciousness.
Of course, when I woke up and heard the rustling of brush nearby, I almost freaked out. And as I moved, I had to bite my tongue to stay silent. My fall did something to my side, and it was acting up now. I couldn't see either, but that was the darkness, not my eyes. The rain had stopped.
I stared out into the dark foliage. I had no idea what was out there. I had no idea where I was anymore.
Trying to steady my breath, I slid over the ground. I felt a dip in the ground, and maneuvered myself under a fallen tree.
Whatever was out there suddenly stopped. I heard it turn towards me.
I was being hunted.
