Chapter 8: The chase begins

1158 Words
The next day broke with a blissful morning a calm shared between men and spirits. Harry had taken his car for servicing as early as 4 a.m. He called his mechanic, who was still asleep when the phone rang. The man sighed heavily, but Harry’s calm, urgent tone convinced him to step out to his shop. The silence on the other end was as good as acceptance. By the time the black tires of Harry’s car rolled up to the gate, the sun was barely awake. He stepped out, sliding the door shut behind him. Dressed in gray sweatpants, black and white sneakers, and a singlet, he looked both casual and restless. He pushed the gate wide enough for his car to pass, drove in, parked, then stepped back out to secure the gate. “Honey, are you not ready yet? Please na, there’ll soon be traffic along Agba route. We don’t have to be on that road by night, you should” he started. Before he could finish, Jacy was already descending the stairs. She wore a black mini skirt and a white long-sleeve blouse. Without a word, she stepped outside, opened the front door of the car, and slid in. Harry followed, his hand gripping the steering. He eased the car out through the gate, secured it behind him, and they zoomed off. --- About twenty minutes later, Jacy’s gaze lifted to a towering black signboard almost eight feet tall that stretched across the road on sturdy pillars. Bold letters glared down at them: “BE BRAVE ENOUGH TO SAY NO.” It was one of the signs welcoming travelers into Abeokuta. They had just passed Otta, their place of residence. Since their marriage, Jacy and Harry had been living in Otta. She remembered a dinner from their dating days when Harry had told her about his childhood there. His parents, originally from Benin City in Edo State, had moved to Otta during their later years and lived there six years before giving birth to Harry, their fourth child. Among five siblings three girls and two boys Harry was the first son, while the second boy was the last born. Jacy, on her part, was the second child of three. The car rolled down a steep slope at Losagba town, thirty miles away from Otta, speeding fast before climbing another rise. Jacy leaned against the window, watching the trees blur past, their leaves waving as though they too were passengers rushing somewhere. She touched her face; her skin felt rough. As she glanced at the glass, she caught sight of a pink Land Cruiser speeding down the slope behind them. “Honey, is that not the car that parked near the signboard at Abeokuta’s entrance?” she asked, pointing. “Is that the only car that looks like that? It can’t be the same one,” Harry replied. “That it is it honey, obu ya! Look... there’s a line across the front, like a scratch. Can’t you see?” she pressed, her voice tight with agitation. Harry checked the side mirror. The car seemed ordinary, nothing unusual. “Why are you so bothered about this car, honey?” he finally asked. “I’ve been seeing it since Abeokuta. It’s still there, behind us. Maybe it’s nothing, but it feels strange.” Harry shook his head. “That car is popular. A lot of people drive it. You’re just imagining things.” Jacy nodded faintly, recalling that her father’s friend owned the same model. It was true: the car was trending, everyone wanted one. But wasn’t it strange how people always clung to trends without question? --- By the time they descended deeper into Losagba, the road grew rough and worn, demanding careful steering. Harry slowed down. Jacy kept her eyes fixed on the passing scenery: mountains rising at the horizon, partially hidden by thick trees. She marveled at the houses perched dangerously on the slopes. Why would anyone risk building a home at a cliff’s edge? she wondered. Maybe land was scarce. Maybe they simply longed for a piece of their homeland, even at the gate of hell itself. The road curved sharply. Harry’s eyes never left the windshield as he handled the steering. They had barely reached a straight stretch when Jacy glanced at the mirror again. Her stomach knotted. “Harry, look,” she called urgently. He peeped, then refocused on the road, only to glance back again seconds later. Jacy hadn’t taken her eyes off the mirror. “What is it now, Jacy?” he asked. “The car… I don’t know. It feels like it’s been following us. Honestly, Harry, it hasn’t left since Abeokuta.” Harry studied the mirror longer this time, thirty silent seconds, before turning back to the road. “But why are you this curious? Do you know who’s in there?” Jacy frowned. “What kind of question is that?” Harry said nothing more. The engine hummed. Jacy’s mind, however, spiraled: Could it be armed robbers? Kidnappers? She remembered Mary telling her about a June incident on the road to Osogbo, where a trailing car turned out to be robbers. Her pulse quickened. Or maybe it’s hired killers. But Chief Dantata is still behind bars. No news of his release. So who could it be? Unless… Lost in thought, she suddenly realized Harry had swerved onto a side road. “Where are you going, Harry?” she asked sharply. “Weren’t you the curious one? Let’s find out then,” he said. The narrow road stretched far into the bush. They drove deeper until the Land Cruiser was nowhere in sight. Relief mingled with unease. It's obvious the land cruiser was not following them. Jacy queried on where this new road could lead to. Harry said that he don't even know. They had to turn back towards the main road so Harry did. They reached the main road and no car was at sight. As they sped down,the highway was still empty. A signboard greeted them: “Welcome to Benin City.” Harry's hometown. He drove in. The road was notorious whispered about for its evil history and kingpins. Every motorist who dared take it did so at full speed. Harry pressed harder on the accelerator. --- At a bend, a group of miners blocked the road with chairs, directing cars to slow down so as not to collide with their heavy lorry stationed ahead. Harry braked. Jacy glanced in the mirror her blood froze. The white Land Cruiser was tearing down the road toward them at full speed. She tapped Harry’s arm. He looked, his jaw tightening. In one swift motion, he restarted the car, slammed his foot on the accelerator, and surged forward. The chairs cracked beneath the tires, a scream ripped from one of the miners as Harry’s car clipped his leg, and then they were gone speeding deeper into the unknown
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