The Last Bus episode 6

Chapter Three
The Forest
(Episode 6)

The bastard was about getting down to the business when we heard gunshots. Two of the robbers screamed and fell to the ground. The ladies they flung over their shoulders scampered into the bush. The others dropped the women they were carrying and returned fire. The don turned around in a scurry, trying to pull up his trousers and picking up his gun at the same time. In a surprise attack, Fiona swung to her feet and buried a sidekick to the idiot’s stomach. She followed through immediately with a hook kick to his jaw. The don fell backwards but regained his balance quickly. He dived for his rifle and fired straight at Fiona. She jumped behind one of the drums the robbers had used to barricade the road, and the bullet wheezed past.

Blood gushed over my head as a bullet lodged itself into the neck of one of the robbers restricting me. The other one left me and ran to join forces with his gang members to ward off their attackers.

“Maggots! Maggots!!” the don yelled as he unleashed fire at their attackers. His rifle danced nonstop. Bullet shells made clattering sounds as they dropped to the ground in their numbers. It seemed the rage inflated his muscles, making his macho physique more pronounced.

I dropped to the ground and started crawling as fast as I could. Sweats covered my whole body and my clothes gummed to my body as if they were another layer of my skin. The other passengers scampered in all directions. Bullets flew all about. The smell of gunpowder permeated the air, and smoke blurred my vision. Discordant screams of panic were all over the place as well as the muffled sound of metal sinking into flesh. There was this particular robber that I noticed had been laid back about the whole operation from the beginning. I perceived that robbery was not his thing. He might have been a victim of circumstance.

In the hazy vision, I saw one of the robbers charge towards where Fiona and some others were hiding. He cornered Fiona and squeezed the trigger. The gunshot was loud, but I was surprised and relieved to see the robber dropped to the ground instead of Fiona. I was further surprised to see who fired the shot—it was John Doe, the hesitant robber. “You might want to find your way into the bush,” I guessed he told Fiona and rushed to join his gang members. I soon got to Fiona and took cover behind the barricade too. Mother-in-the-Lord was also there, continuously chanting, “Blood of Jesus! Blood of Jesus!!” I managed to scan where Biggie’s body was lying some minutes ago, but it was no longer there.

More soldiers of the Nigerian Army arrived, and the fierce battle raged on. The robbers, especially the don, were not ready to back down. I had never seen such a gung-ho band of robbers in my life. Their sheer number and heavy arms might have elevated their confidence. With the increased shooting, we discovered that our cover was no longer safe. Bullets were already tearing our shield apart.

“We need to get out of here!” Fiona yelled. She had hardly finished talking when a bullet brushed past her ear. I scanned trepidatiously for an escape route.

At that moment a bullet hit the fuel tank of the robbers’ getaway van, and it erupted in flames. The breeze blew the heat in our direction, making us squinch our faces and grind our teeth in response. Then, I spotted an opening to escape. “Over here,” I motioned to Fiona and the others.

Mother-in-the-Lord hesitated, crying at the top of her voice, “My son,” and was pointing in a particular direction.

Fiona and I stopped dead in our tracks and turned to the direction in which she was pointing. Behold! On the ground in the heart of the shooting was the small boy sitting and wailing! He covered his ears with his palms and was calling his mother. Tiny stone particles splashed at him as bullets danced around him. There were bloodstains on his face. Without a second thought, Fiona jumped out of our hiding and headed for the boy. I pulled her back and dashed forward instead, ducking and dodging the bullets the best way I could.

Immediately I picked him up, throngs of bullets ravaged the very spot he was seated seconds ago. I heaved a temporary sigh of relief. I carried him and began running for cover. Bullets chased after us, dropping at my heels each step down the way. I sang Hallelujah in my head when, thankfully, we made it back alive. Mother-in-the-Lord pulled the boy to herself and kissed his forehead and hugged him several times. She kept thanking me amidst her cry. There was no time to waste. So, I hastened everyone up. We then ran into the bush. The raging battle—with all the terrifying sounds, smell, and sight that came with it—continued in the background. We didn’t know how long it would last.

As we made our way into the forest, I couldn’t get the scene of lifeless bodies littering everywhere and the nauseating smell of blood out of my head. I prayed I was dreaming, but this was no dream. As the forest welcomed us into its cold embrace, we weren’t sure of what dangers laid ahead of us.

To be continued … Watch Out for the Next Episode!

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