The Message That Shouldn't exist
1156 Words
The rain had eased, leaving Cape Town’s streets slick and glimmering under the dim glow of streetlights. Zanele’s boots splashed through puddles as she and Lerato rushed toward the harbor, following the faint coordinates embedded in the metadata of the photo from the mysterious unknown number. Her mind was a storm of fear and disbeliet.
Thabo… in a black SUV… ten minutes ago… She repeated the thought like a mantra, hoping it wasn’t real. But deep down, she knew it was.
“Lerato,” she panted, skidding to a stop at the edge of the quay. “How is this even possible? How can someone… somehow ” Her voice faltered. “It’s like… like the messages are coming from the future.”
Lerato frowned, scanning the empty docks. “If that’s true, Zanele… we’re dealing with something bigger than just Thabo disappearing. Someone or something is trying to warn you. But why your voice? Why not just a text?”
Zanele shook her head, shivering despite her wet coat. “I don’t know. But I can’t ignore it. If I do… if I wait… Thabo…” Her voice broke. The thought of losing him made her stomach twist painfully.
They stopped at a corner where a single streetlamp flickered, illuminating the black SUV in the distance. Zanele froze. The vehicle was empty no sign of Thabo inside but the timing was too precise to ignore.
She pulled her phone from her coat pocket, hesitating before opening the next file the unknown number had sent. Another voice note. Her own voice.
“I can’t… I can’t let him, he’s gone…”
Her hands shook as she played it. The recording was raw, tearful, full of panic she didn’t remember expressing. But the timestamp made her blood run cold. Tomorrow morning.
“See?” she whispered to Lerato, her voice trembling. “Tomorrow… this will happen. I will… I don’t know what I’m saying. But it’s real.”
Lerato stepped closer. “Zanele… we have to think. If these messages are predicting something, then we need to act, but carefully. Don’t just follow your gut. We need a plan.”
“I don’t have time for a plan,” she snapped, panic creeping into her tone. “Thabo’s out there, and he could be ” Her words caught in her throat.
“Listen,” Lerato said, voice low but firm. “I’ll help you. But panicking will get you nowhere. Show me everything the messages, the photos, the timestamps.”
They huddled under a covered dock, and Zanele handed over her phone. Lerato scrolled through the files with careful precision. Photos of Thabo appeared in locations she hadn’t visited with him in months Kalk Bay, Sea Point promenade, even an alley in Woodstock. Each photo was timestamped hours or days in the future.
“I don’t understand,” Zanele said, clutching her coat tighter. “These are… memories that haven’t happened yet. How is that possible?”
Lerato’s eyes darkened. “I’ve heard of predictive tech… advanced AI mapping emotional patterns and movement. But I never thought… not like this. Someone’s… projecting events into your perception. You’re seeing fragments of the future.”
Zanele’s stomach churned. “The problem is… it’s all connected to Thabo. He’s missing. And these… these fragments… they’re warning me about him. If I don’t act ” She swallowed hard. “ “he could disappear for good.”
“Or worse,” Lerato added, eyes narrowing. “You could be walking into a trap. Whoever’s doing this… knows you’re going to follow the Echoes. They’re counting on it.”
Zanele felt a chill creep up her spine. “A trap? For me?”
Lerato hesitated, then nodded. “It’s possible. Someone wants Thabo or the tech he’s working on. And if they know you care… you’re their lever.”
Her mind raced. Thabo had never spoken about his latest projects in detail, only hints and casual mentions when they met for coffee at the V&A Waterfront. But now it all felt like pieces of a puzzle she didn’t understand.
“I have to find him,” Zanele said, determination hardening her voice. “I can’t… I can’t just wait and watch. I’ll follow the messages. I’ll save him.”
Lerato sighed. “I’ll come with you. But we have to be careful. Cape Town is big, and if someone’s monitoring him, or us, we can’t afford mistakes.”
They started moving toward the first location in the folder: an abandoned warehouse near the docks. The city was quieter now, the storm having passed, leaving only the echo of waves crashing against the harbor. Zanele’s heart thumped in her chest, the anticipation nearly unbearable.
As they approached the warehouse, Zanele’s phone buzzed again. Another voice note. Her voice. Desperate, trembling. This time it described an accident that hadn’t happened yet,Thabo falling into danger near the harbor cranes.
Her fingers froze on the screen. “Lerato… this one… this one says he’s going to”
A sudden noise behind them made them spin. Shadows moved near the warehouse entrance. Lerato stepped in front of Zanele, protective. “Stay here,” he whispered, as he crept forward.
Moments later, a figure emerged, someone small, soaked from the rain. Zanele’s breath caught. It was a street kid she recognized from earlier walks along the waterfront. “M-Miss Zanele?” he stammered. “Someone… someone told me to find you. They… they said you need to come to the harbor, now.”
Zanele glanced at Lerato, who gave a small nod. “That’s all we needed,” he muttered, motioning for her to follow.
The kid led them to the edge of the water, where the reflection of a massive crane towered in the moonlight. And there, suspended in the shadows, a black SUV idled, its engine off, windows dark.
Zanele’s heart seized. She took a step forward. “Thabo?”
No answer. Only the echoes of her own words seemed to respond: “Don’t let him go… he disappears tonight.”
The wind picked up again, carrying the sound of distant sirens and the faint, metallic creak of the crane. Somewhere, Thabo was out there, and the next move could be the difference between saving him or losing him forever.
Zanele turned to Lerato, voice barely a whisper. “We don’t have time. We have to get him before it’s too late.”
Lerato nodded, face tense. “Then let’s go. And Zanele… be ready for anything. Whoever’s behind this… they’re not playing by the rules.”
As they crept toward the SUV, a faint vibration in Zanele’s pocket made her jump. Another notification. Another photo. Her blood ran cold. It was Thabo inside the SUV. And timestamped… five minutes ago.
The Echoes weren’t just warnings. They were now instructions. And Zanele realized, with a surge of terror and determination, that tonight, nothing would ever be the same.
- Writer
