A little while ago, the first truck stopped right under the bridge, with a feeling they had an external burden. The driver was the suspicious type with this sort of conviction that he felt all things were not right.
He got down and checked the tyres on the road. He moved around with his torch and after he got nothing to hold on to, he moved on.
He got close to a military check point and stopped.
He was checked clean. Then he proceeded to moving towards town.
A tall guy came and jumped off a moving truck, lights came on him and he was covered in dust. Then he vanished like his presence never occurred. Anyone who saw him would have doubted they saw anyone.
He came out the dark again, this time clean with his hood on. He moved swiftly across the pedestrian, his hands in his pocket as he moved quicker than his feet could take him.
He was with the speed of a ghost and soon, he was off the road.
A cut here and a dash there, he was down the street taking another route, was on another busy road.
His hood still on, and with a few more cuts, he avoided direct contact with light and was facing a bar.
He took off his hood in relief as he read the moving illustration displaying on a colourful board.
His brown eyes shone. He flicked. Satisfaction and relief were showing in his reflex.
He walked in and pulled on his hood once again.
He made it to the order table and passed a note to the barman. The barman checked it and looked at the guy in the hood. His eyes came back to the sheet again and gave a long nod and direction. The guy in the hood looked away and got the direction. He left a thumbs up sign and was off the table in a minute.
A table was staged in one side of the bar with two fat bespectacled men behind it.
The one with the grey shirt on was pouring a bottle of drink into a cup.
He took up the cup and raised it.
The guy with the hood got to the table and pulled back the last empty chair. He sat conveniently as he watched them freeze. Their blood shot and their eyes weakened. They never expected him to be back so soon.
He pulled off his hood. This time, his glossy Afro hair was thick and compressed.
He held a dead smile and poured himself a cup of drink.
"How did it go?" The man who was in a roundneck body hug asked, desperately.
"I missed him!"
"What?" The guy on grey was shining his eyes. His jaw dropped next. "Nothing "
His teeth had gone off with the alcohol- What you would expect.
He gulped a cup quickly down his throat. He rushed the back of his hands against his lips and dropped the cup again to listen.
"They didn't get back. I was hidden too long. I have a time limit. I can't stay out in the street for too long. It's not part of the deal."
"We know." The man in roundneck replied. "It's just this. The boss wants him dead like now." He continued.
"Same boss would rather have me alive." The guy in the hood replied.
"Can you pick up on him again?" The man in grey asked.
"New license for my car. Licence to use the tinted glass and full protection."
"Why all that again?" The man in grey protested. He looked away. His gaze locked into that of the other man. They nodded at each other and looked back at the guy in the hood.
"In case you forgot..." The guy in hood turned on the torch of his cell and made it face the roof. He adjusted his hood and brought the face to the light.
"Because I have the same face with the man the government believes committed three murders," he said angrily.
Ayo heard about the accident that happened downtown.
Late at night, he was still at his dining table seeing what could be done to the mountain of eba his wife had laid down for him.
This was a bit unfortunate. A morsel had just gone off the mountain down his throat when the call came through. He washed his hands in the soup and didn't know when he began to wash in his bowl of stew.
He stared noticing his errors and mopped his hands dry with his trouser.
He was at the hospital in a minute.
He could have made it in a second if he wanted to. He really wanted to, but that was impossible, so he was skipping the traffic in his head, imagining a safe trip where no car would have to block the major road. No! Truck.
Nothing stopped him actually. A smooth ride that ended when his car's engine knocked out as he pushed past the clinic's gate. Then he stopped and got down wanting to tear his suit and scream 'The devil is a liar.'
He stopped. The idea was not necessary. He rushed to get along with his assistant who was down.
"What happened? What happened? What happened?" The questions came like a rush for the hour.
It was clear; an animal attack.
The bruises on the side of his face made it no lie.
A wide whatever, quite short, powerful and indescribable, came off the bush for the side window, stopped on his face and went off through the windshield.
The fact that Daniel still drove his car down there made Ayo have a chill on his nerves.
A guy in a hood popped out of nowhere. He paced the street from one end to the other and stopped again right in front of a clinic, Boyac Clinic.
He watched the tall buildings in the compound and spent the next minutes scoping the fence.
He removed his gun from his pocket and counted how many bullets he had next. Then he fixed the silencer at the end of the gun, pulled on his hood and moved across the road for the fence.