09 Aug 2009 |
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Something familiar was back. It was hunger and this time it was not being subtle. Far from it, arrival was like the sting of a rotten tooth or better still the bite of a MOPOL's whip and Nkiru this time realized she could no longer hold out and reached for her last Udara wedge. She carefully pried it open separating flesh for now, and skin for “Ojukwu Goody Goody” for later. Chewing carefully she enjoyed the tartness of the fruit while frugally applying the last of its sticky milk from her fingers on her wound knowing it would help the congealing process. Precisely at that moment she saw the reptile slide into her trench its forked tongue now serving as an antenna tasting the air for the source of the blood that had piqued her interest and made her come calling. Horrified Nkiru stopped chewing and swallowed prematurely. Who could blame her? After all she had just recognized the snake as a Gaboon Viper - feared by her tribe that they named it “Echi Eteka” meaning “forget tomorrow” if ever bitten. Well f%3k that ! Nkiru had never lost at “Snakes and Ladders” in her life and had no intentions of starting now so using the stock of her gun for leverage she first of all pushed her self upright, and then bringing the nuzzle upright depressed the trigger so that it coughed a soft controlled burst. In one singular motion she hit the Gaboon twice and then her second target- namely the soldier on the left – three times, watching both disintegrate. Then she was up and hobbling out of the trench turning around only once to hurl another short burst at the middle Commando but not to her surprise he was no longer visible. He however made his presence felt just as she slipped behind an uprooted palm tree as something hot and angry imbedded itself in the soft rotting underbelly of the tree.
Pushing herself up by her elbows she peered around the stump and at the bigger Nigerian who had now worked his way behind one of the sheds that once housed the exotic pigs (now eaten) but then used for the myriad of cross breeding programs then conducted at both Agricultural Schools in Nekede and Umudike. He was fumbling with the ammunition belt for what looked like a real mean looking weapon and hopefully she would prevent him from making it functional. She clicked her weapon into single shot mode and inhaling deeply took a bead on where she had last spotted his helmet. Creating an imaginary spot circa six inches to the right she let out two shots and the quickly moving circa another eight inches but this time to the left let out another series of shots. The result not only left Olu maimed from the knees down, but Achilles in awe....for it was the finest shooting he himself had witnessed in the last year and there was no doubt the he was dealing with a fellow sniper. Using the Sun as reflective mirror to blind them the shooter flawlessly pulled a very difficult shot by taking into consideration that most humans when confronted with danger tend to veer off to the left. This wiring can be traced all the way back to the first time when monkeys left the tree tops in the Rift valley in search of meals with higher protein content only to be confronted with the many predators on the ground only too happy to use them as their new source of protein. By shooting intentionally a little to the right and making Olu veer to the left instinctively right after seeing her first muzzle flash, she has goaded him right into her second burst and he now lay like a broken “Humpty Dumpty” both patella’s smashed to smithereens moaning like an infant as wave after wave of pain racked his body like an electric shock. “Olu shut up…..You want make dem mark you well well ?” Achilles barked in pidgin since his Yoruba was limited to haggling rates with prostitutes. “Oga I no fit….everything don Skata” Olu whimpered back moaning into the mud and trying to muffle the pain that was now cloaking him like an envelope. “Olu which kind big man dey cry like small pikin?” he replied trying to shame the other into silence. “Wait small make sun go down and I go come help you”. Silence. “Olu !!!!” More silence but this time with the backing soprano of crickets. “F#$K…Olu is the Radio Okay?” And then there came a sound that made the skin on the backs of both Nkiru and Achilles crawl in stereo as if their minds were fused by some unseen telepathic umbilical cord. It was a mix between a reckless yelp, a snickering laugh and a hysterical howl and it pierced the other sounds of the evening like an alto sax. All of a sudden there were replies, more muted but identical in ferocity and then they both smelled the foul open grave smell of the arrival of the newest player to the cast of the up till then unfolding game. The “Crocuta Crocuta” was huge and obviously the Alpha female of her Klan and as she trotted into the opening she bellowed again calling to the sorority of hunters made up of her sisters and daughters notifying them not just of prey, but of wounded prey ready to be taken.
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