The Wrong Prey (Episode 15)

The Wrong Prey (Episode 15)

Jide turned into the corner where the man had stepped around from and entered into the clearing where the men putting on the red and white attires were huddled together like women in fear. What came to his mind was a group of penguins huddled together for warmth against the terrible, blistering winds sweeping the Antarctic in the middle of a southern hemisphere’s winter.

If he wasn’t feeling vengeful, he would have laughed because in his wildest dreams, he never thought people of the occult who happen to be wealthy and powerful men would be doing the same out of fear for their lives. He was glad they were afraid. He wanted them to feel fear.

He only had a split second to process the situation before one of the men dressed in the hunter’s garb opened fire on him with a local hunter’s rifle directly opposite him from the other side of the clearing with the crowd of cultists between them. The bulk of the shot missed Jide but a few shrapnel from the gunpowder hit him on the side of his body.

Jide groaned in pain. “You want to try the 1800s against the 1940s, let’s see how that plays out,” he thought to himself.

The man was trying to reload when Jide opened fire on him. He missed him with the first couple of shots before he was able to align his aim properly. The amount of fire power Jide was putting down against him forced the man to attempt to run away from the clearing which is on lower ground up into the surrounding bushes which were a few feet higher. Holding the barrel of his gun, he tried to use it as a support, but his legs slipped at that moment and he fell onto the barrel impaling himself just as Jide’s weapon announced it was empty with a click.

Jide had no time to see if the muzzle of the gun’s barrel was able to penetrate the man’s skin or not. He was trying to eject the magazine when someone charged him from behind with a dagger. He had very little time to react but he managed to move out of the way – only Just – but the dagger still cut him on his right shoulder forcing him to drop the gun. The man had been aiming for his neck.

He moved away into space in an attempt to give himself time to steady himself and be ready for the attack when it comes again. But the man charged at him right away, not giving him time to compose himself. The dagger was raised up high and aimed for his head.

He moved to the side as the blade flashed by his head and by his body. He managed to move a foot away but the man slashed sideways at him in the direction of his neck. He went down, moving under the arm. When he came up on the other side, he threw a big forehand which connected with the side of the head of his attacker covering his ear.

The man dropped the dagger as he went down landing on his back like a sack of potatoes which was tilted over. The man lay on the ground feeling groggy as he tried to get his senses back, wondering what just happened to him. Jide moved in and kicked him on the side of the head knocking him unconscious.

Jide trudged as fast as he could to where the AK-47 lay on the ground. He picked it up and was about to attach the magazine when another man appeared from the opposite end on the other side of the gathering.

The man opened fire on Jide who threw himself onto the ground and tried to creep away to safety. He stopped trying to get away and concentrated on fixing the magazine. He corked it and chambered a round in readiness.

He started firing back as he got up from the ground. He stayed in one spot for a few seconds before he ran off to his right. His eyes were locked on a large tree about three metres from his position which stood just to the edge of the clearing. He could hear the men dressed in red garments who were in the clearing and caught between them screaming as they got caught between the crossfire.

Even though he didn’t care for the men, he wasn’t intentionally shooting at them. He was only laying down cover fire to protect himself. It was difficult to take proper aim at a target while you’re running sideways, and even more difficult when you’re running to escape gunfire.


To be continued…

By Albert Kolawole


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