Izar trembled as he observed his surroundings.
A dark, cavernous room where the damp air reeked of oil and rust, threatening to choke his lungs.
His wrists screamed with cutting agony, bound by icy chains that gnawed into his flesh. Attempting to struggle brought more pain than any likelihood of breaking free.
“Help! Please! Somebody help me!” he yelped, desperate for salvation of any kind. Anything to get out of this monstrous environment. This was a horrid enough situation to be in, locked up in one of 7Katz’s prisons. A horrible dungeon for those in the bad books of the leadership.
“Shut the fuck up, you stupid little motherfucker!”
At the sound of that gritty, unfriendly voice, however, Izar knew the situation was about to get even worse.
It wasn’t long before the owner of that voice appeared, looming before him like a heartless angel of death.
It was Tigris, his cruel face twisted into a snarl, eyes black and unyielding.
And in his hand, a power drill whirred, its metallic screech slicing through the silence like a blade.
Izar’s heart sank and his eyes screamed with terror.
It just could not get any worse. This man wasn’t going to just kill him; he was going to inflict a grave level of pain on him before he died.
“You failed, Izar,” Tigris growled, his voice a low rumble of menace. “And failures like you… don’t get to live.”
Izar’s heart thundered, his pleas spilling out in a desperate torrent.
“Please, I didn’t mean to- please, just one more chance! I beg you!”
Tigris, totally unmoved by the pleas for mercy, raised the drill. Its spinning bit gleamed as it aimed straight for Izar’s temple.
“No-no-no-no-no-”
The whine grew louder unbearable, as it closed the distance…
“NO! PLEASE, NO–”
Inches away from piercing his skull…
“NOOOOOOOOO!”
He jolted awake, gasping, his body drenched in sweat. His chest heaved with the level of fright he had experienced in this nightmare.
“Fucking hell, that felt so real!” he gasped to himself, his hand on his chest as he felt his heart palpitate like it was on steroids. Sitting up, he scanned his surroundings.
The faint glow of dawn seeped through the curtains, revealing the imminent arrival of a lovely Sunday morning.
He looked around. The simple bed, the table, the quiet hum of the world outside…
… it all rushed back.
Of course, he wasn’t in a 7Katz prison. Nowhere near it, in fact.
He was in the Adomako household.
He was safe, for now.
Izar exhaled a shaky sigh of relief, his hands trembling as he rubbed his face. “Oh, fuck, that was one terrifying dream!”
***
An hour and a half passed, and Izar remained on the narrow bed in the boy’s quarters, the morning light now stronger through the curtains. With his feet together and a furrowed brow, he remained deep in thought.
His pulse might have settled now, with the assurance that Tigris boring holes through his brain was simply a terrible dream, but that did not change the fact that he was still in significant danger of falling to such a horrible end.
As long as 7Katz existed, they would want nothing more than to deal with him for messing up the deal. These men and the concept of forgiveness were as far as the ground beneath their feet was from outer space.
His mind churned, racing through options to escape the cartel’s reach.
A week here, then what? he thought. Where do I go from here? A new city? A new name? Will I be able to get away with it? Can I even get the money for it without them tracking my money movements?
The journey to Nigeria had been at the top of his list; it sounded so smooth and simple to go with. But he had to be reminded of an unfortunate reality: the cartel’s network was vast and their memory long. Every move came with a major risk, and one minor slip could easily expose his tracks and ultimately end him.
He sighed and rubbed his temples. “Ugh, how the fuck do I get outta this mess?” he murmured to himself. “How the fuck do I…”
A soft knock at the door snapped him out of his thoughts. Izar stood, smoothing his rumpled clothes, and opened the door to find Lavender, dressed in a vibrant blue dress and a wide-brimmed hat.
It was obvious she was ready to head for church.
She held a tray of steaming breakfast – eggs, sausages, toast, and a cup of tea – before him, her smile as warm as always.
“Good morning, Izar,” she greeted brightly. “How are you holding up? Feeling any better?”
Izar managed a small nod, forcing a faint smile. “Yeah, yeah, I’m… getting myself together, I guess. Thanks for this,” he responded, taking the tray, nodding as the scent of the hot breakfast grounded him for a moment.
“You’re welcome.” Lavender glanced over her shoulder, gesturing to Hector, who stood near the car in a crisp suit, adjusting his tie. “So, we’re heading to church,” she continued. “You’re welcome to join us if you’d like. We can wait a bit if you need some time to get ready.”
Izar’s stomach tightened.
Yeah, that’s a straight-up no.
Aside the fact that church wasn’t his thing, and never had been, the thought of sitting through a service listening to some deluded guy chat about some sky daddy while his mind screamed about getting out of the range of the deadliest cartel in the country felt impossible.
So he shook his head. “Ummm, I appreciate it,” he answered politely, “but I think I’ll stay here, get my thoughts straight. I still need to figure out my next steps.”
Lavender nodded, her eyes kind but searching. “Take your time, dear. We’re here if you need us.”
“Sure, I appreciate that. Thanks again.”
She nodded again, then gave him a gentle pat on the arm before turning to join Hector.
Izar set the tray on the table in the room and followed them to the gate, his manners automatic as he swung it open for them. Hector gave him a nod, and Lavender waved as they drove off, the car’s engine fading into the quiet morning.
Closing the gate, Izar returned to the boy’s quarters, staring at the tray. He sighed and shrugged. “Chale, make I chop something while I do my calculations and permutations,” he muttered to himself, picking up a sausage and munching it before he sank back onto the bed, his mind picking up where it left off.
Plotting and desperately searching for a way to outrun the shadows of death chasing him.
***
There’s one name above, earth and the sky
Lord Jehovah reigns, rules on high
We bow down before You, Great I Am
We Sing Glory to The Lamb
The afternoon sun filtered through the car windows as Hector and Lavender drove back from church, both singing along to Marvin Sapp’s old timer. It was just past noon, and the streets were busy with the inflow of church worshippers returning to their homes after another day of praising their Maker.
Lavender had a smirk on her face as the song played on. “You know this song always takes me back to those Sunday afternoons when I’d come over to see you and Kwabena, don’t you?”
Hector chuckled, eyes still on the road but a grin spreading across his face. “Of course! As for Kwabena and his obsession with Marvin Sapp… stop! That guy could play this song, ‘Never Would Have Made It’, ‘Praise Him In Advance’ and ‘You Are God Alone’ over and over again. It was serious!”
Lavender laughed. “Oh yeah, I knew I’d hear at least one of those songs whenever I came around. But thank God for all that. Because it led me to you.”
Hector nodded. “Absolutely. Following God’s purpose brought us together. You never thought those visits to your deputy Organizing Secretary’s room would lead to this beautiful union, did you?”
Lavender shook her head. “Not in the slightest, my love. Not in the slightest. But at the end of the day, God did.”
As the song came to an end, there was a brief comfortable silence in the car as it moved along.
Then Hector, with his hands rested steady on the wheel, glanced briefly at his wife, his brow now creased with thought. “So babe, about Izar,” he started, his deep voice measured. “It’s so obvious that boy’s carrying something heavy on his heart. I mean, we know he’s getting abused by his stepfather and all, and it’s obvious how frightened he is. But… I… I’m not sure we’re getting the whole story from him. It’s not like I think he’s trouble or that he deserves it. Of course not. I dunno, I just feel like… like he’s running from more than he’s letting us know. Maybe he’s just traumatized or something, I don’t know…”
Lavender leaned back in her seat, her eyes soft with compassion. “Hmmmm. I get what you mean, but, me, I think he’s just shaken up. Like, when I look at him, Hector, he just breaks my heart. So young, and already so afraid. You saw how he barely touched the dinner I made for him last night? The poor boy’s so stressed and confused to even eat properly. Let’s just keep praying he feels safe with us, even just for a little while. God put him in our path for a reason, didn’t He?”
Hector nodded, glancing at her. “Oh yeah, of course, no doubt about that. But we have to be wise about this. Like I said, he seems genuine, and I don’t think he’s gonna cause us any harm, but we don’t know him. So we still do the needful. Like locking up the house and just staying security conscious at all times.”
Lavender nodded in agreement. “Oh, of course. No doubt about that. You know, I was thinking, maybe we can talk to him about that shelter outreach program Pastor James mentioned last month. They’ve got folks who can help with… whatever he’s dealing with.”
Hector’s face brightened. “That’s a good idea, Lavie. Maybe they can get him some proper help, like counseling or a safe place to go. But you know, he might need time to warm up to the idea. He’s still pretty skittish right now, like he’s afraid to trust anyone. I just want him to know he’s not alone.”
Lavender nodded once again.
“So let’s see. We can get home, pray about it, and probably talk to him tonight. Let him know we’re here, but there’s more help out there when he’s ready. Once God has put him in our path, we must do right by him.”
Lavender smiled, her heart full. “Amen to that. Let’s just keep showing him kindness. That’s what he needs most right now. More than anything.”
Hmm, if only they knew the real story. He is running away from more than they think, but it’s way deadlier than they could imagine…
