The Wrong Prey (Episode 13)

The Wrong Prey (Episode 13)

Jide ran into them headlong. He could see them trying to get out of the way. He saw the shock and fear in their eyes just before he rammed into them at more than a hundred and thirty kilometres an hour. The airbag installed in the steering wheel popped out in a split second on impact. He felt his body fly forward but got caught up between the airbag and his seat belt both of which stopped him from hitting the steering wheel.

He was very surprised he couldn’t feel any pain except on his shoulder where the seat belt had bruised his flesh as it caught him back stopping him from hitting the steering wheel, and on his lower right ribs which felt bruised where the seat belt passed down to his right.

He could see the men on the front seats of the pick-up truck in front still moving. He grabbed the rifle from the passenger seat in front, opened the door and jumped down. He supported the barrel of the gun with his left forearm as he opened fire on the pick-up truck firing through the windscreen and hitting both men several times.

He saw one of the doors of the saloon car behind the pickup truck open as someone he believed was the driver was trying to step out. He turned the gun in that direction and let the bullets fly as he moved on foot to his right to get a better view and aim. He kept firing, hitting the person several times before he could step out of the car.

He moved towards his left knowing if the driver was carrying any passenger, the person would want to get out too. The door opened just in time as he reached the edge of the car and gained a better view of that side of the car.

He pressed the down the trigger of the gun, but all he heard was a click. The magazine was spent. He slipped behind the bonnet of the pick-up truck in front using it as cover as the man opened fire in his direction.

He ejected the magazine and fumbled in his trousers’ right pocket to retrieve the extra magazine he was carrying. He struggled to attach it as the gunfire shredded the car’s bonnet. He crept away from the front of the car and around it to the other side because the bullets were getting closer to his position.

Safe for a few seconds, he managed to fix the spare magazine which was the easier part. Cocking and chambering a round was more difficult. He managed it just in time when he heard the click of an empty gun.

“My turn,” he muttered to himself and got up. Before the man had time to duck he opened fire hitting him in the chest several times.

Moving with caution, he moved around the car taking the direction he had taken in the opposite direction when he had run for his life, to see if the man still posed any threat. He rounded the vehicle and found the man lying on the ground in a pool of his blood. He moved closer and kicked his gun far from his reach.

Beside the man was a magazine filled with ammunition which the man had wanted to use. He picked it up and placed it in his pocket. He turned into the road where the pick-truck and the sedan had come from and entered.

He was glad both vehicles were blocking the road so no one would be able to escape in a car. To make sure, he shot the four tires of both vehicles. It was him against them all and he hadn’t come to show mercy. He had come to give them a dose of their medicine. This was judgement day for them all. He was going to be the judge, jury and executioner. They made him a victim and now, he was going to give them his own brand of justice.

He moved down the road and entered the outer road which goes around the parked cars. There was no one there. He continued down the footpath he had used on his way to the car park. He didn’t know which way to take back to the gathering of men around the fetish altar, but he knew if he took the path he was never going to miss his way as there is bound to be a marker and a clear path which would lead him there. He was sure such a path exists and would be obvious and easy to find and follow.

He continued down the path, with the muzzle of the gun pointed in front of him. He was ready to fire on anything which moved or threatened to pose a threat to him. They were all guilty in his book and no one of them deserved to live.

He passed the body of the man he had encountered when he had cut his way through the bush to escape. The body was still lying there just where he left it. He stepped across the body and continued down the path. He saw the place where he had cut his way through the bush to escape and ended up on the path.

He thought of taking that path again, but decided against it because he could easily lose his way. Moreover, he wanted to face them square on. This time he wouldn’t be the victim. They would be his victim. He wanted them to feel the fear he had felt. He wanted them to feel the fear countless numbers of people who had been their victims had felt.

He continued down the path on his way to look for a direct entry into their fetish, evil gathering. After some twenty metres, the path turned to the left. Now this was an area he wasn’t familiar with. From that point on he moved with caution.

 

To be continued…

By Albert Kolawole

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