“You scared them,” I said, as Jack leaned against the open hatch, rifle slung over his shoulder.
“I took a gamble. Two shots were all I had.”
“So if they get on the train right now—” We were moving at snail’s pace, the engine straining to get the cargo going again.
“They won’t. They don’t know I’m out. They want the children, but not enough to put their selves at risk. Once the train picks up, we’re golden. We’ll be in Wanza long before they can catch up.”
I was about to heave a sigh of relief when the car that had been trailing the first started speeding up. It didn’t look like the driver had any intention of stopping.
“What the fuck?” Jack straightened as it approached.
“He’s going to crash into us!”
But the driver rammed straight into the white van. Then he backed up and slammed into it again.
“Shit,” said Jack, when the clouds of dust settled. Both cars were banked up against the gravel mound by the tracks. “It’s Bahati.”
“Oh God. He must have come looking for us. But what’s he doing? It’s not like him to provoke anyone.”
We watched in horror as three men got out of the van and dragged Bahati out of his car. The driver stayed in the van, an ominously dark silhouette against the tinted glass.
“Scholastica.” Every muscle in Jack’s body tensed as he said it. “She’s not with Bahati. I told him to bring her. They must have her. It’s the only reason Bahati would follow them this far.”
“Jack.” I clamped his arm. He had to go. But I held on a few seconds longer. “You have no bullets. You have nothing.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he replied. “There’s a little girl out there who needs me.”
In a thousand lives, I would die a thousand deaths to save her.
It wasn’t Lily, but Jack wasn’t about to let it happen again.
“Listen to me,” he said. “No matter what happens, you stay on the train. You get these kids to Wanza. You hear me?”
“I don’t . . . I can’t . . .”
“You can. You’re my rainbow-haloed girl, and you’re freaking magical. Don’t you ever forget that.” He took my face in his hands and kissed me like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever tasted.
And then I heard the crunch of gravel as he hopped off and headed for the circle of men who were kicking and hitting Bahati as he lay on the ground.
“Let him go,” he said, pointing his rifle at them. His tone left no room for argument. He knew he had no bullets, I knew he had no bullets, but as far as they were concerned, he meant business.
The men backed away from Bahati and lined up against the side of the van as Jack swung his rifle from one to the other, keeping them in check.
“Bahati, get on the train,” said Jack, as Bahati lay curled up. He was in bad shape, but he staggered to his feet. One eye was swollen shut, and he held on to his knee as he limped toward the train.
“You.” Jack tapped the driver’s window with his rifle. “Come out with your hands up and open the back door.”
At first, it seemed like the man hadn’t heard him, but he stepped out, one foot first and then the other. My heart contracted when I caught a glimpse of his face. There was a raw slash running across his forehead, splitting his eyebrow, and down to his cheek. The blood had just started to clot, a river of jagged purple against his skin. There was something wrapped around his wrist. A red bandana that flapped in the breeze. I’d seen him before.
Where?
When?
And then it hit me. At the police station. When I’d gone with Goma. He’d creeped me out. His eyes had said something completely different from his smile.
K.K. That’s what Inspector Hamisi had called him. I shuddered as I recalled the laughter I’d heard when he’d tried to run Jack over.
Keh keh keh keh. Like a hyena digging around dead bones.
I held out my hand as Bahati approached and helped him climb on board. A trickle of blood leaked from his nose.
“Open the back door,” Jack said to K.K.
K.K. walked to the rear of the van like he was taking a Sunday stroll, slowly and leisurely. “I don’t know what you think you’re—”
“Shut up.” Jack prodded him with his gun. “Let her out.”
“Let who out?” K.K. unlatched the door and stood aside.
I couldn’t see inside the van because it was angled off, but Jack didn’t look too happy.
“Where is she?” he asked. “What have you done with Scholastica?”
“Jack,” Bahati interrupted, nursing his jaw. “Scholastica’s at the farm. Goma wouldn’t let her leave until she got her glasses. I came alone.”
Jack shot him an incredulous look. “Then why are you locking horns with these fuckers?”
“Because they hurt my father. I came to get you, and I found him at the campsite instead. He wouldn’t tell them where the kids were so they tortured him and the morans. If I hadn’t got there in time . . .” Bahati squeezed his eyes shut. “Something in me just snapped, Jack. I didn’t think. I just came after them.”
“They’re scum.” Jack started retreating slowly from the men, his eyes staring down the barrel. “We’re leaving now. We don’t want any trouble. So get back in your car and turn around.”
I had to strain to hear him over the huffing of the train. It was picking up pace.