*Chapter 8: Run
254 Words
_"Move,"_ Tunde hissed.
The chair scraped back. David grabbed Ada’s hand. They bolted for the back door.
Tunde was right behind them.
The black car’s engine revved. Headlights flashed through the café windows. Glass rattled.
_"Split up!"_ Tunde yelled over the noise. _"Meet at Yaba bus park in 20! Don’t take a cab!"_
David didn’t think. He pulled Ada into a narrow alley behind the café. Their feet pounded on wet concrete. The smell of rotten food and rain hit them.
Behind them, car doors slammed.
_"Who is that?"_ Ada panted. Her chest hurt.
_"I don’t know,"_ David said. _"But they’re not cops."_
They turned a corner. Dead end.
David’s heart sank. The alley was blocked by trash bins and a tall rusty fence. No way out.
Footsteps. Getting closer. Heavy boots on wet ground.
Ada pressed against the cold wall, breathing hard. David looked around frantically. His mind was blank.
Then he saw it. A small gap in the fence, just big enough for a person.
_"Through there,"_ he whispered, pointing.
They squeezed through, cutting their arms on the metal. On the other side was a busy street. Okadas weaving, buses honking, people everywhere.
David pulled Ada into the crowd. He didn’t let go of her hand.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
Unknown number. Text:
_I see you. Stop running._
David looked up slowly.
Across the street, through the traffic, the man in the black cap was standing still.
Staring right at him.
And smiling.
Tunde was nowhere to be seen.
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- Writer
