Discussing their plight Chapter 2
“Pythias, warned us," Paul said, still rolling some of the gravel in his hand." His uncle Joseph. That hyena would sell his mother for a shilling. Thats the only thing important to him." Paul pick up one of the logs and poked the fire with it. Sparks flew up like the bullets that had torn through last week's protest. She interrupts him - affirming. “Yes,” she nods, “During the riots, I saw Joseph get paid; I think he was extorting that Indian shopkeeper.”
Paul continues, “Greed is that one's God. He is sly as a jackal, and cruel, as a drought. If he comes for us, it's either fight or hang.” She gives him his cooked ugali and meat while sitting down opposite him with hers. “Wow! Let them come, she hissed, jabbing at her tumbo with a thumb - the universal fuck you of the slums. I will fight, won't go down easy like an Impala chased by a Leopard.”
Munching on his meal, he nods and answers. “That's the way to go. Now we are both of the same mind. The odds are not wholly in our favor, but if we stay vigilant, we might stand a chance.” Lifted her head she nods, her understanding. It was still relatively light enough after they'd finished dinner. Paul pulls Nimonia to him. Love oozes out of every pore of his existence for her.
Though she's a tough girl, he fears for her safety. However, he also knows that once she's made a decision, there's no way to change that.
While kissing and cuddling, his thoughts sought out ways to keep them safe. She pulls his head down, sensing he's not mindfully within the moment, and kisses him passionately. Within the kiss was the intention to draw him into the moment. Succeeding, she whispers. “We're all alone; let's use this time wisely; we might not get another chance soon.”
Looking down at her with a frown, she pulled at him and instructed. “Open our bedding; while she starts shedding her windbreaker, tonight belongs to us; I need you right now.”
Detective Odhiambo, known as a cruel mother fucker in the slums of Nairobi for his cutthroat ways. Cornered his nephew Pythias to extract information from him. Wanting to know the whereabouts of his acquaintances. He pressures Pythias Ogongoro with his part in the uprising. “I can make that disappear so that no other cop will ever look at you twice again.” He insisted. “I know you warn them. So tell me, where they're vanish." Pythias looks him in the eye and answers. “I don't know anything about Paul's plans; he always does what's on his mind without telling what he intended.”
Joseph's fist drove into Pythias tumbo, a wet crunch of knuckles on malnourished flesh. “Ooth!” Pythias spat, air leaving through his mouth. As he folds like a sack of ugali flour. "I'll keep going with this if you prefer. Tell me, where they are? Where did they disappear?”
Bend over, clutching his stomach, Pythias remains quiet. He' still trying to catch enough breath, that punch was meant to disable. Growing up in extreme poverty, with lack of proper sanitation, and living in filthy squatting situations. Contributed to the fact that they mostly had to get drinking water from open sources, where mosquitoes and other insects laid their eggs. Bilharzia haunted the slums like a jini - a curse of dirty water and politico's empty promises. Pythias slowly straightens just to catch another punch.
"Ooth!” He goes again, bending over. “Just lift your hand if I should stop, and you're willing to talk,” Joseph said, patting Pythia's head. Tell me, where they went," Joseph crooned, wiping his hands on his stained tie. The day he, Pythias nearly died of hunger, this carrion eaters was nowhere. Paul was the one sharing his last mandazi with him. What did these fucking pigs know about loyalty? From the corner of the room, Constable Damon watched, not liking this, his fingers twitching toward his rungu. Useless against a gun - he knows, but the urge lingered.
Forty-five minutes later, Joseph wipes his hands disgustedly and gives his lackeys a sign while he walks out of the building. He gets into his old Land Cruiser SUV. Before driving off, he dialed, grunting quietly inside the mouthpiece. “I know where they're off to. We leave tomorrow morning at sunrise, get yourselves ready.” Then he drives off. That same instant Joseph drove away, a leopard screamed in the nearby park. The same cry that had haunted his dreams since the riots began.
An hour before sunrise, the next morning four big men in a Land Cruiser left Nairobi en route to Mount Kenya National Park. Joseph Odhiambo was behind the wheel, humming softly to himself. Next to him was his partner, Detective Amos Ekali, a rogue - the same attitude as Joseph. That's why they fit so nicely together. Like the one read the other's mind. It's as if they're minted from opposite sides of the same coin.
On the back seat sits Constable Damon Karuiki and rookie Tempo Maina. They're dragged along because the two top dogs need workers for camp duty and to serve as overall handymen. They were briefed about the hunt, just enough of what they ought to know to assure cooperation. Another skill that's needed is that of tracker and the Constable possesses it.
The information they have, say that the prey had gone off into the wild. They love rock climbing. The place to look for is Kirinyaga.
The love birds, rise early for the continuation of their quest. Packing the used gear they make sure to wipe all signs of their passing. Even though there was only a one out of a hundred percent possibility of their spoor being picked up there.
Paul has made sure to choose a path less traveled. “We must get a move on.” He told his partner. She answers by beginning a stretch and warm-up exercise routine. He follows suit. They begin the climb aiming ever higher. Briefed about the weather, and the mist that may hamper progress. They also took it into account as usually the mist rises by 10:00 - 11:00 am. By then, they must be at the next elevation.
While climbing, the weather gradually changes. It changes from mild to snappy, as they progress higher. Being aware, they've covered up snugly.
Joseph and his crew did two stopovers en route to Kirinyaga. Their second stop was in the town of Sagana. Paul and Nimonia were seen at a fuel station cum bus terminal. Joseph feels like gloating at the luck of his decision. The whole information might as well have been a falsehood. His partner next to him was sipping from a foam paper cup his coffee. He addresses him.
“The information we have say they were heading this way, must be true then.” His partner, draining the cup of coffee, answered. “Yes, seems we're on the right track. Hope we'll take them soon. Don't like wandering about the bush for too long.”. He affirms. “Yes, I hope it will not take too long. Don't want to be in there for too long myself; I have some better things to attend too attend to.”
Constable Damon, in the back seat, snorted back a healthy laugh and giggled while saying. “The bush is so soothing, better than the city. For my part, I wish we stay longer.” Joseph glared at him through the rearview mirror. Thinking. 'Wait till we get there; I'll work you so hard that you wish to be back in the city.’ Damon hid his grin behind a calloused hand. Let these city mabwana scoff. The mountain would humble them soon enough As a tracker and since recently working as a tour guide, he likes the bush life. He’s aligned and rooted in Nature with a sharp intuition
