“Alright, good seeing you! Now that I’ve got your number, I’ll definitely keep in touch,” Joe gushed enthusiastically as he shook hands with the old friend he had just had a long chat.

“Sure thing. Talk to you later, and stay safe,” the old friend said, waving as Joe left the restaurant.

It sure is good to meet with old friends! he thought to himself as he briskly walked the busy streets. It was around 9pm on a Thursday evening, and as always, the streets were lined with cars bustling to and fro, and people walking to the bus stations, looking to get home after a long day.

Chilly as always, he sure was glad he had opted to wear a sweater; the cold would certainly have had no mercy on his arms.

As always, he had a couple of people stare at him in an odd manner as he walked by. He could feel the typical stares of surprise, amusement and fascination as he went his way. He heard a toddler say out loud to his mother, “Mummy! Look! Look at…”

“Hey, hey, hey, keep quiet!” the mother hushed him, giving Joe an apologetic look as he passed by.

Shrugging to himself, he just said, “Normal.”

He was quite used to that sort of treatment. Back then, it would have been a major source of worry and embarrassment. But these days, it hardly bothered him.

As he moved further away from the busy streets and on to the rather deserted road leading to the apartment in which he dwelt, a sudden wave of tense fear washed over him. A wave that had been falling upon him for a few days now.

The deserted road that led to his apartment was truly deserted in every sense of the word. No street lights, nothing. Just a bare road. With a broken down van by the wayside.

There had already been a few robberies on that stretch of road, which made going home for every inhabitant of the neighbourhood a trip the faint-hearted would never enjoy taking. Having moved in about two months ago, every time he had to pass around here at this time of the night was a nerve-wrecking one. So far, he hadn’t witnessed any attack, much less experienced it, but he had heard of some, and a sense of safety and security was far from settling in his soul as he walked along.

“We really need to get these streetlights fixed,” he muttered as he walked past the van. “And I don’t get why this van has been left by the wayside like this. I’ll definitely have to remind some of the neighbours to get some towing service or something to take this thing away.”

He increased his footsteps as he walked past the vehicle, still grumbling about its presence. “It’s so careless how the owner just dumped it here and hasn’t even bothered to come back for it. Pure breeding grounds for armed robbers and the like…”

He stopped in mid-sentence as he heard a sound.

The back door of the van swung open, and out jumped two figures, both clad in all black with masks on.

A first time for everything, goes the adage. A first time nobody ever wants to experience.

Adrenalin poring through his veins, it was either fight or flight at that moment. Joe took the ‘flight’ option, and took to his heels.

The men behind him in close pursuit, he hoped to get close to the neighbourhood as quickly as possible and raise an alarm.

That wasn’t to be. From the moment they started chasing, it felt like Usain Bolt and a clone of him were the ones in those masks. The harder Joe pushed himself to run, the quicker they seemed to catch up.

One of them pounced, catching Joe right by the waist, bringing him down to the ground. As Joe tried to struggle himself out of his aggressor’s grasp, face down on the ground, he felt the second one grab him, and as he was turned over, the first guy let go of his waist.

His first thought was to kick out at the one who had tackled him to the ground, and quickly find out what to do to the second aggressor. The latter, however, had other ideas.

And a seemingly iron fist. Literally.

The impact his fist made with Joe’s nose was enough to knock their victim into unconsciousness.

***

Keti and Moyo, their masks lifted over their heads, held their breath as they waited to see if the unconscious man would stir.

One second… two seconds… three seconds…

Ten seconds passed before they nodded their heads. “Good, he’s out cold,” Keti affirmed.

“Perfect. Nice shot to the face,” Moyo complimented him.

“Thanks, thanks,” Keti responded, a proud look on his face. Having trained as an amateur boxer some time in the past, he usually was the one to throw hands when necessary, and he was always on point.

“Lemme call Yusa so he can pick us up,” Moyo nodded as he took out his phone. “We’ll wait here for him in the meantime.”

Keti looked at him incredulously. “Ah, are you serious? Wait here in the middle of the road with this guy?”

Moyo looked confused. “Ah, but what’s your problem? Yes, wait here and let him pick us up. He’s around the corner. Or you want us to carry him to the van?”

“Of course! Ah, what if someone finds us standing here? We’ll be busted before Yusa shows up.”

“Massa, it’s a waste of time. Yusa will be here-“

Before Moyo could complete his assertion, Keti had lifted the unconscious man onto his shoulders and was already walking quickly towards the van.

He threw his head back and let out a sigh of frustration.

Working with Keti was really something else. On one hand, they both were ruthless and effective in catching their targets and doing whatever they had been assigned to do. But on the other, Keti just seemed to oppose him on every single thing.

He quickened his steps as he followed his stubborn partner to the van.

***

When Joe regained consciousness, he was bound up and chained to the wall in a dark room. A room lit up only by a single candle.

Where the hell am I? he wondered as he winced at the lingering pain caused by that staggering blow to the nose. It didn’t take too long for him to figure out the answer.

He saw the lack of windows in the room. The masquerade masks hung around the room. Faint stains of blood scattered around the floor.

He was in a witchdoctor’s dungeon.

And at the other side of the room, he could see another hostage chained to the wall.

A hostage who was similar to him in a number of ways.

Same golden hair colour. Same pale skin colour.

Same lack of melanin like him.

Typical.

The constant robbery attacks were a thing to be feared, but people like him and the person at the other end of the room had a far greater issue to worry about in the town of Amela.

Their skin pigmentation made them prospective victims of all sorts of superstitions and old beliefs that convinced people that their body parts would make them rich and bring them all sorts of good luck and fortune. So as they lay trapped in that room, it was no surprise.

Some greedy persons had sought their capture and subsequent murder, that they might get more money, more power or whatever it was they had been told about.

For Joe and this unknown person, this was death row, and their crime was being born with albinism.

Oh wow, so Joe is an albino. Well, the stigma against people with albinism is a serious thing. Will Joe be saved, or Mr Nathan’s gonna have his sacrifice for more money?