First of all, I want to apologise to all who waited for this final instalment. The delay, and any others previously experienced were not entirely my fault. The rumours concerning my incarceration at a certain State CID cell are nevertheless, not entirely untrue. That haven been said, please read on, enjoy, have fun and uhm..yes, this episode is gonna be quite long..but then, it’s the last episode!
#np Skyfall – Adele
This is the end.
‘All things that begin, end, all flowers that grow, die..’ I read that somewhere once. I write it down now, so I shall read it again.. The writer scribbled on, the words coming in bits and spurts. The dim light from a Nokia Torchlight phone illuminated his orange diary, leaving his face in shadow. His mind churned, the gears whistled, and as the ink flowed, the characters lived and did and died.
These events occurred simultaneously between the seconds of 12:15:24pm and 12:15:49pm.
Paul dropped the i-Pad on the bed and twisted to get a cup of water from the bedside table. A cold and yet hot shaft of pain suddenly tore mercilessly through his back like the steel edge of a wicked blade.
“Arrrrgh!! Nurse!!” He screamed.
The car swerved suddenly.
“What’s wrong?” Tony asked sharply.
“I don’t know,” replied Rebecca. “If I didn’t know better I’ll say my baby kicked.”
“Let me go!” She screamed, but all that came out was a muffled sound, the words choked behind the mouth gag. She squirmed in her bondages, he hands and legs well trussed and lashed to the burglary proofing on the window. The muslim man continued what he was doing.
It is advised that you read the previous stories that led up to this if you haven’t before. And here are their links..
Tangles! – a tale of twisted emotions.
The great Noetic scientist and crank billionaire Paul Temple, believed that thought processes rule the world. Freud also theorized that emotions are key to our individual and group psychology. He qualified this under sexual urges and quantified the force as libido. In the Bible it is called Faith. In this world I call it Fate.
He was frozen in place. To lean back was to invite excruciating pain, to lean forward any further was to suffer mind-numbing aches.
“NURSE!” He hollered again. He was out of breath. He couldn’t take in a single breath. To breathe was too painful and he could take no more. Two nurses rushed in, shocked and pale as white sheets. Somewhere in his pain-wracked mind, he realised it was the pretty one with the nice massages that entered first.
“15ccs Demerol,” the second nurse cried. “And call for Dr. Akpan.”
The injection was jammed into his neck and immediately he began to feel woozy. The pain vanished and then, all feeling went too. Before his eyes the faces of the nurses swam and his last coherent thought before he blacked into void was, Am I going to be paralysed?
“Your baby..” murmured Tony.
Rebecca glanced at him, her hands on the wheel. “What..?”
Tony grinned. She didn’t. She knew that grin. That was the grin for when he wanted to say something essentially foolish and he wanted you to think it was a joke.
“So you really wanna keep it?” He grinned.
“Of course I wanna keep my baby! And don’t call my baby a it.”
The car was in silence for a few minutes. Rebecca took the Oshodi turnoff.
“I’m sorry,” Tony apologised.
“It’s alright. I’m pregnant you know, all emotional, like PMS,” she smiled.
“So have you told the Senator?”
“Hell no! Not yet. Dad would kill me.”
“You do know you have to tell him sometime..”
Paul doesn’t know either, thought Rebecca.
Tony was thinking the same thing. How on earth did she plan to do this? Take her ex-boyfriend in tow while she broke the news of her pregnancy to the father of her unborn child as he lay on his sick bed. He would fall into a coma.
“What did you say?” He asked.
Rebecca trafficated. “Where is your mind? I said, I really wonder who Sharon is.”
“Sharon na! The girl I told you called me with Paul’s phone. I spoke with her a couple of more times. Her name is Sharon.”
Tony laughed. What are the odds?
“What is it?”
“Oh nothing,” he replied. “Don’t worry your pretty head. She’s probably his sister.”
Rebecca sped up as the road cleared. That’s exactly it. As far as she knew, Paul had no family.
Dr Akpan pored over the charts. What had they missed?
The patient lay on the bed, the tortured expression on his face detailing that despite the sedative induced sleep, Paul was definitely fighting demons in that head of his.
There had been some strain on the spine as the patient was retrieved from the crushed vehicle, but the swelling had reduced.
Oh God! He should have ordered an X-ray.
Where the hell was this man’s girlfriend at a time like this? The visiting needed to be called off! Not today!
There are certain paths to life. Each man is born at the fork of the road. The path which he takes is his choice and his alone. But a man must be decisive and choose his path or with the flow of other travellers it would be chosen for him.
Silver Cross Hospital
“Shh..” He murmured even though he knew she could make no noise. “Stay still, you don’t wanna ruin this do you?”
Sharon’s eyes widened as she saw what he was holding.
2 hours earlier…
The thought had been paramount in his head.
We are who we are. We do what we do because we must. This is who you are. This is what you must do.
Then she stepped into the vehicle.
“Silver Cross Hospital,” she said.
She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Her hair glistened in he sunlight as the strands wafted in breeze as the taxi zoomed down the streets.
He had muttered prayers under his breath, seeking answers to his weakened resolve. And finally the voiced heard him.
“Silver Cross Hospital,” he heard himself say.
Perhaps it had been the way he said it, but whatever it was, she had become spooked. He could see it in her eyes; distrust had suddenly begun to radiate off her being.
His new life had begun a few years ago with a bump to the head. Not everyone can claim they joined a fascist militant group after being hit by the car of the benefactor, but that was his story. Two years into the group and it was his first mission. The Muson Centre. 2:00pm. But that was before he met this girl. It was a sign. He would be used as an instrument to return the sick souls to his bosom.
Abdul spliced two wires together and plugged them into a socket. The digital readout came on. It was armed.
Silver Cross Hospital – Upstairs
The tunnel pulsated with an eerie light and the sound of rushing air and water, such as one hears when listening to a sea-shell. He couldn’t see his feet, maybe he had no feet, maybe he had no body, but somehow he knew, somehow he was aware. Childhood flashed by in a blur and he was reminded of all achievements, all joys, all losses. Love, guilt, fear, sadness and triumph flowed through him as one and his heart beat rapidly. Or maybe it didn’t. He had no heart. But there was a severe pain in his chest and he suddenly felt breathless.
Dr. Akpan pounded his chest again.
“He is flatlining!” yelled a Nurse. The pretty one.
The doctor was flabbergasted, but he kept his cool. Already, the patient’s face was beginning to look gray and pasty. Recognising the signs of suffocation, the doctor opened Paul’s mouth, tilted the head at an angle and blew air down into the man’s lungs. The EKG whined.
Warris all this?
Mile 2 – Badagry Expressway
“We’ll pass this way,” announced Rebecca.
Tony nodded. His phone rang.
“It’s me.” It was her. The pretty girl.
“What’s up? I don’t have this number.”
“I know, I’m calling from a payphone.”
“Okay…” Tony frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Don’t go with her Tony, I think something is about to go wrong.”
“I don’t understand.”
“If you go with her, your ex, something bad will happen.”
Tony rolled his eyes; jealousy.
“Nothing bad would happen, okay? I think I wan control myself reasonably enough. I’ll talk to you later.”
He ended the call.
“Who was that?” asked Rebecca.
“A jealous chick,” he replied, staring out the window at the Festac boulevards.
Abdul strapped the vest on Sharon. The bands of wires twisting from every corner, red, blue and green, ending in circuits which were connected to fused diodes. The fuses in turn encircled the two sticks of dynamite and plugged into the 20g C4 explosive. The satchel lay on the floor, empty.
The tears flowed freely out of her eyes as she contemplated the end of her life. Oddly in those moments, she didn’t think of Paul or of Tony or of any of her previous boyfriends. She didn’t think of GOD or Jesus or attempt any prayer for salvation. Despite her hardy outlook on life, she didn’t even envision escape or make any such plans. And it never crossed her mind to wonder at the loss of life that would be evoked in the hospital, or the carnage which would ensue as her body exploded. Sharon thought of her father, the Bishop. For no reason at all.
As the tears slowed down her face, her misty eyes imploring the muslim man, her hands tied helplessly behind her, her thoughts bent to her father. For no reason.
She didn’t remember him playing with her, or dancing or even talking. She just remembered him. Frustration tore at her very fabric, she was helpless in her fate. She would die this day.
Abdul saw the tears. They didn’t move him.
“Tears are a part of life. They are the last proof we are human. When we cry we cleanse, when we cry we purge, but most importantly, when we cry we regret. You are past human, my son. You have been mandated by God. You cannot regret. You do not know tears.”
Taking out the gun, he checked the magazine. It was full. Twelve rounds. It was enough.
The patient snorted. Dr. Akpan sighed in relief. One of the nurses fainted. Another nurse blurted “Halleluyah!” But Paul was back online and breathing, although shallowly.
The door opened and an orderly wheeled in the respirator machine. Dr. Akpan just glared at him.
“No more morphine!” the doctor barked.
Until the understood the reason for the crash, this patient was staying off all barbiturates and painkillers.
The lights of the tunnel had vanished. All seemed calm now. For some reason though, he felt he had to wake up. Wake up from his dream. There was something to do. Someone to see. But who?
Sharon regretted. Instinct had warned her right from the can, but she had ignored it. As she stepped out of the cab at Silver Cross, he had followed her. She had heard his footsteps closing in as she walked down the corridor behind the staircase. As soon as the corridor was empty he had grabbed her from behind, clamping his hand over her mouth to cut shut the scream. He then dragged her into an empty room. Her head had crashed against the door jamb and she blacked out. When she came to, she was lashed hands and feet to the burglary proofing with a gag over her mouth. Try as she might, no one could hear her scream. The door was locked and he was making a bomb.
The doors opened and Tony and Rebecca strode into the lobby of the hospital. The air was saturated with disinfectant and the sickly smell of drugs. Upstairs, Dr. Akpan watched his patient breath raggedly. Suddenly a woman screamed. Tony looked up and saw Sharon wearing some sort of bomb vest, a bearded man in a small prayer cap stood beside her, holding a gun. The sight of the bomb on Sharon and the image of the gun had barely registered when the muslim man raised the weapon and fired at the orderly beside the door. The report was deafening. In the ensuing silence that followed, broken only by the sound of the orderly sliding to the floor, his body leaving a trail of blood across the wall, three things happened at the same time:
Dr. Akpan cursed and ran for the door; the patient, Paul, jerked suddenly and in Rebecca’s stomach there was a violent jolt as her baby seemed to kick.
All this while, Tony stood transfixed, staring across the lobby at Sharon’s tear-streaked face, her mouth gagged, her eyes imploring.
The muslim man shouted; “Allahu akhbar!”
TO GOD BE THE GLORY..hehehe
(In no particular order)
And every other person who might have helped one way or the other with the creation of this story so far.
* I never really knew what I was doing with this piece. The characters just seemed to grow by themselves and well..I hope we had fun.
Thanks for reading!