CHAPTER 10
Andy had told me to stay inside and lock the car. "Lock it from inside. No matter what you hear, don't come out. You wait for my knock. Two knocks." His voice was low, serious, not the playful Andy I knew. Then he took my phone from the dashboard and put it in his pocket, like he didn't want me calling anyone, or like he didn't want anyone tracking me. That was twenty minutes ago.
The darkness here was not normal darkness. It was not Nairobi darkness where there is always a light somewhere. It was bush-dark. True darkness that swallows your car headlights. No streetlights, no houses, just tall grass hissing in the wind and crickets so loud they sounded like they were inside my head, inside my ears, screaming. Inside the car, my own heart was the other sound. Loud and out of control. I could hear it in my throat.
I didn't know where we were. He had driven in circles for an hour after telling me not to sleep. "They moved her. The deal changed. They want to meet now," those were the last words I heard before dozing off. He kept looking at the rearview mirror, checking if we were followed. We passed the same kiosk three times.
For ten minutes there was nothing. Just wind. Just grass moving when there was no wind, which was worse. I kept the windows up, doors locked, hands on my knees, sweating in the cold.
Then there were voices. Low, angry, arguing. A man's laugh, harsh. Then shouting. Andy's voice, sharp, cutting through the night, "She was never part of the deal!" Then another voice I didn't recognize, inaudible Swahili mixed with English, "You knew the price, Martins!" Then a scuffle. A thud. Grass tearing. Someone fell hard. Someone groaned.
I had my hand on the door handle, every part of me screaming to run out there. Mel was out there. My niece, my baby, was out there in that darkness with those men. My legs were shaking so bad I could barely move but I wanted to open the door. I whispered, "Don't open. Don't open. Two knocks. Two knocks." Like a mad woman.
Then silence again. That kind of silence that is louder than shouting.
I was breathing so hard the windows fogged completely. I couldn't see outside anymore, just my own scared face reflected. I kept whispering, "Mel, Mel, Mel," like a prayer, like if I say her name enough she will appear.
Then, two knocks. Soft but...