Girl Divided Page 10

  In her dream, she was in a forest. The antelope she had seen so many times before was looking at her from a clearing. She approached it, yelling.

  "What do you want from me?"

  The antelope blinked its big brown endearing eyes. It only made her angrier at it. So many times she had talked to it at night, but what was the use?

  "You're nothing but a dream," she said to it, then tried to drive it away, moving her arms frantically, but the animal didn't move.

  Jetta sat in the grass. "I miss Nanna," she mumbled as she plucked some grass and threw it at the antelope.

  "She misses you too," the antelope said. "But she can't go where you are."

  Jetta looked up and met the antelope's eyes. For a second, she was certain she saw it smile, but then it was gone.

  "Where is she?"

  "Follow the wind," the antelope said.

  Jetta woke up. It was dark in the room and Jetta blinked her eyes. She could still see everything in the room. She could see books on the shelves, even read their titles and see the lamp under the ceiling. There was no window in the room, which she had found odd from the beginning.

  "What do you want from me?" she asked, thinking about her mother. Why was she keeping her here like this? It certainly wasn't because she loved her. It couldn't be. No, this woman wanted something from her and was determined to keep her in this place for that reason.

  "Well, I ain't sticking around to see what it is," she mumbled, then walked to the door. She felt the heavy wooden door. Could she break through it somehow? But what was the use? Lo's soldiers were on the other side and they would just stop her. She had to find a way out of this place. Tyler was in danger and she had to get to him before it was too late.

  What if it's already too late?

  She had to believe it wasn't.

  The images of Tyler running from the fire appeared in her mind once again and she felt an overwhelming sadness. The fear he experienced, the distress she had sensed when seeing the world through his eyes, was devastating. She sat on the floor, weeping, pulling her legs up underneath her, her body trembling while the emotion grew inside of her. She cried and lifted her face up towards the ceiling. Her body was shaking heavily in anger when suddenly the entire room shook with her. Jetta hardly noticed her fingers were drumming rapidly on the stone floor, not even when the shelf tipped over and all the books tumbled onto the floor, or when the lamp was torn free from the ceiling and fell on the bed. Then lightning struck the wall at the end of the room, cracked it, and opened it up, revealing the daylight outside.

  Jetta stopped shaking, sniffled and looked at it. She walked to the crack, peeked outside, and realized she could squeeze herself through the hole.

  Jetta stepped outside and found herself close to the highway leading to Stull City. She turned and looked back at the small building that housed the gift shop that now had a huge crack in its side. Jetta smiled, looked at her hands, then up towards the sky and felt the wind on her face. She took in a deep breath, then ran where the wind wanted her to.

  Part IV

  Chapter 43

  "Where are we going?"

  Tyler had been walking with Shango for days. His leg that got shot was in deep pain, his feet were hurting, his shoes worn out to the extent that his toe kept peeking out, and he felt so tired. Tired and hungry. They had lived off nothing but mangoes and rum that Shango, for some reason, had an endless supply of in those red pants of his.

  Tyler had asked the question several times, but so far Shango hadn't answered. Still, Tyler followed him since he had nowhere else to go and, for some reason, Shango seemed to know how to stay out of danger, or at least how to find his way out of it. While wandering with him, he had realized the guy was quite charismatic and very entertaining. He was also an exceptionally skilled drummer. Tyler had never seen anything like it. Not even when growing up in New Orleans.

  What he hadn't gotten were answers. Answers to why he had saved Tyler of all the people in the ghetto or why he wanted him to follow him. Tyler's only concern was the fact that Shango seemed to be drunk most of the time and had a hard time walking straight. How was he supposed to find anything? Was Tyler just wasting his time?

  All Tyler knew was that he wanted to go north. Chicago was known to be one of the cities controlled by Black Liberty. He was certain he would find his brother there.

  If he was still alive.

  Tyler couldn't quite escape the images of the fire, the people screaming and crying, people jumping out of buildings, trying to save their lives, yet ending up finding themselves trapped.

  Had anyone survived that massacre? Anyone at all?

  He doubted it. It made him sad to think about it, so he tried not to. Instead, his thoughts wandered to Jetta. He had last seen her run into the swamps. Had she made it out? Had she found comfort and safety somewhere? He found it to be strange, but his feelings for her ran deep in him. She had to be the strongest girl he had ever met. She could probably survive anything, he thought to himself, comforting his worried self.

  Shango stopped. He sipped from his bottle, then sighed. He spoke with a strong slur.

  "I think we need some wheels, what do you say?"

  He pointed at an abandoned truck in the driveway of a roofless house. The walls were charcoaled, probably from a fire, but the pick-up truck outside had been left untouched.

  Tyler nodded. He rushed to the car and pulled the door open. He peeked inside. It was an old Toyota. It smelled terribly musty, but its condition was otherwise fine. He looked at the engine under the hood, then walked to the driver's seat, pulled out the wires, and hotwired it. The engine coughed a little, then roared to life. He got out and looked happily at Shango.

  "Your chariot, sir," he said with a grin.

  Shango staggered towards it, bottle of rum in his hand. He walked into the side of it before finally finding the door.

  "I'll drive," he said and got in.

  "You don't think I should drive?" Tyler asked, diplomatically.

  "Oh, no," Shango said. "I'm an excellent driver. Besides, you don't even know where we're going."

  Chapter 44

  Jetta ran till she had no more strength. She hadn't seen a car on the road so far, but now she did see one coming up towards her. She put her hoodie back on to cover her face as the car approached her.

  It passed her, then stopped. Jetta held her breath. The car started to back up, fast.

  She pulled her hoodie further up to make sure it covered all of her face. She was in no man's territory now. If they were whites, they might kill her; if they were black, they might kill her too.

  The car came to a halt close to her. Jetta kept walking, not giving them even a glance.

  "Hey there. Need a lift?"

  Jetta shook her head. She would never dare to get into a car with strangers and risk them seeing her face or maybe getting raped.

  "You sure? It's quite dangerous out here," the voice said. "Let's take you at least some of the way. Where are you going?"

  As the person spoke, something hit Jetta. An emotion of some sort, caused by the sound of the voice. She turned her face and looked.

  "Tyler?"

  His eyes grew wide.

  "Jetta? Is that you?" He laughed and looked at the person sitting next to him in the driver's seat. "It's Jetta," he said.

  "Well, what do you know?" The man said, throwing out his hands like he knew what Tyler was talking about. "It's Jetta!"

  Tyler jumped out, grabbed her in his arms, and lifted her into the air. Jetta laughed as the hoodie fell down, revealing her entire face. He laughed, hugged her, then looked at her face, holding it between his hands.

  "You're really here. You're really here. I can't believe it."

  Extreme relief hit Jetta, hard.

  "And so are you," she said. "Alive. I can't believe you're alive. There was a fire, I thought you…I thought you had perished."

  He sighed.

  "I almost did…wait, you need to meet someone
."

  Tyler pointed at the man behind the wheel. He looked funny, Jetta thought, in his red and white clothes and crown on his head. She waved.

  "This guy saved me," he said, then turned his pointer finger in circles at his temple, while whispering, "A little wacko, and drunk most of the time, but…"

  Jetta laughed, then waved again. "Hi there, Tyler's friend," she said. "Good to meet you."

  "Likewise," the man said, almost bowing to her.

  Jetta laughed again. Then looked at Tyler.

  "His name is Shango," he said.

  "What a strange sounding name," she said.

  "Yeah, yeah," Shango said impatiently from inside the car, sipping a big brown bottle of rum. "How about you guys catch up later and we get going, huh? We're kind of sticking out like ducks in a pond here. Now, I don't want to alarm you—well, actually, I do—'cause I see a car coming up further back and I don't think we want to be here when it gets here if you catch my drift."

  Tyler turned his head and looked down the road.

  "It's a military van," he said. His anxious eyes looked at Jetta.

  "Whites."

  Chapter 45

  Shango stepped on the gas pedal and the pick-up truck rushed off, but they weren't fast enough. The military truck was getting closer and closer, and soon they could hear them yelling from the speakers on the roof.

  "Stop the car. Stop the car immediately."

  Jetta stared at Tyler from the back seat. "If they see you, they'll kill you," she said. "Both of you."

  "I can lose them," Shango said, trying to accelerate, but the old truck didn't really have it in it anymore. He turned the wheel and they ended up on the grass, going off the road and across fields of grass. Still, the military truck followed them closely. A shot was fired, hit the tire, and made the car start to reel.

  "Is it me who is drunk or are we going…" Shango said but didn't make it any further before a tree approached them so fast it made Jetta scream.

  "Turn the wheel!"

  She reached over from the back seat, grabbed the wheel, and turned it just in time for them to avoid hitting the tree. They rushed into the bushes, where the car stopped. Shango stepped on the gas pedal, but the car didn't go anywhere. They were stuck.

  "Hurry," Jetta said. "Switch places with me."

  The military truck stopped behind them, soldiers emerged from the back and approached them, while Jetta took the wheel. Shango and Tyler were now in the back. Jetta turned around, clenched her fist, then slammed it into Tyler's face.

  "Sorry," she whispered.

  Blood was running from his nose, a look of utter surprise on his face.

  A soldier approached the window and she pulled it down, showing only the left side of her face underneath the hoodie.

  "I am sorry, sir," she said. "I thought you might have been rebels trying to liberate my prisoners here. I’m taking them to the ghetto outside New Orleans. They escaped."

  "You do realize you're in Kansas, right?" the soldier said.

  "Yes, Officer. I think I took a wrong turn…I mean, it's hard with no signs anywhere, you know?"

  The officer looked at her, stared into her one blue eye, scrutinizing her. She smiled, albeit awkwardly. He looked inside the truck and stared at Tyler, who had blood running from his nose, dripping onto his shirt.

  "That one has got a mouth on him. I had to shut him up," she said.

  The soldier looked skeptical at her, then at Tyler and Shango. Jetta's heart was pounding in her chest. She hoped he wouldn't hear.

  "Animals," he said.

  "I know," Jetta said.

  "You sure you can handle these two all by yourself?"

  Jetta scoffed. "I’ve handled much worse. I'm a bounty hunter. These two will feed me for the next three weeks."

  The soldier laughed. "Aren't you a little young to be a bounty hunter?"

  "A girl's gotta eat, doesn’t she? Blacks killed my parents. I’m on my own. This is the way I get back at them and manage to eat at the same time."

  The soldier changed his expression. "Blacks killed my mother," he said, nostrils flaring. "Raped her and cut her throat in the middle of the street while forcing me to watch. I was fifteen."

  Jetta took in a deep breath, then said: "That's why we do what do, right, Officer?"

  "It sure is," he said. "It sure is." He paused as if going through the memories once again, then said:

  "Now, you seem to be stuck here. You want me to help pull you loose? Then we can give you an escort to the nearest ghetto. I think we'll have to go to the one outside of Oklahoma City, 'cause the one in New Orleans burned down recently."

  Jetta swallowed hard, while the images from her dream flickered in front of her eyes. Once again, she heard people screaming, saw people jumping to certain death, people dying in the streets.

  "I hadn't heard that, Officer," she lied, her voice cracking slightly. She hoped he wouldn't hear.

  "Well, it's all good anyway," he said. "Less blacks, less trouble, am I right?"

  Jetta swallowed hard, then nodded. "Sure are."

  The officer patted the top of the truck with his hand. The sound made Jetta jump. The officer didn't notice.

  "All right. I'll have my men pull you out of there, and then we'll get going."

  Chapter 46

  No one spoke while they drove, being escorted by the soldiers. One truck in front of them, one behind them. Having never driven a car before, Jetta focused on the bumpy road that had been destroyed by grenades and bombs. She was following the military truck, with the heavily armed soldiers in the back, while worrying how to get them out of this mess.

  "How do we get away?" Tyler finally whispered like he was afraid the soldiers might hear.

  They were getting closer to Oklahoma City now. Some old half overgrown sign on the side of the beat-up highway told her they were. Jetta wondered what had happened to the people living in all those abandoned houses and ghost towns they drove through. She hadn't known anything other than this chaos, but her grandmother had often spoken of a time when blacks and whites lived together in the same towns or even neighborhoods, where they worked together and went to school together without fighting. People were even married and had children, interracial children. In the world they lived in today, that was impossible. It was enough to get killed for. It was hard for Jetta to imagine that things could be that different.

  "Jetta?"

  "I don't know. I’m thinking," Jetta said.

  "You better think fast," Tyler said. "Or we'll end up back inside yet another ghetto."

  "How about we give them some rum?" Shango said. "That'll make them forget why they were so angry in the first place. I know it always makes me forget things."

  Shango sipped his bottle with a big grin. Jetta couldn't understand how he could be so cheerful in a situation like this. It was actually annoying. The guy had saved Tyler's life, and for that Jetta was grateful, but other than that, she wouldn't mind dropping him off somewhere.

  "I don't think getting them drunk will help much," Jetta said.

  "Sure, it will," Shango continued. He kept drinking.

  Jetta wondered if he had been drunk this entire time and figured he probably was. She had a feeling that he was going to get them all in trouble.

  "We need to lose them," Jetta said.

  "I usually lose a lot of things when I drink rum," Shango said. He laughed at his own joke.

  No one else did.

  Jetta bit her lip as they passed another sign. It was filled with bullet holes, but Jetta could still see that they were less than thirty miles from Oklahoma City. The ghetto would be placed outside of the city walls and couldn't be far away.

  "We gotta think fast," Tyler said.

  "You could still go for the rum," Shango said.

  "Enough with the rum," Tyler said.

  Shango shrugged and sipped his bottle again. "Suit yourselves."

  "Okay, I’m going to take a sharp turn down here," she said, "and take the ne
xt exit, then make a run for it. It'll probably only be the truck behind us that will be able to follow."

  The exit sign came closer. Jetta turned the wheel drastically, forcing the car onto the ramp, then stepped on the gas pedal of the pick-up truck, tires screeching.

  As suspected, when looking in the rearview mirror, she saw that the military truck behind them had followed.

  Chapter 47

  At the end of the exit ramp, she took a sharp right turn, floored the gas pedal once again and rushed down the road. The military truck followed them closely, and now they were shooting at them. The first shot hit the window in the back and it shattered.

  Tyler screamed and ducked down. Jetta looked at them in the rearview mirror and realized that while Tyler was hiding his face in his arms, Shango was whistling.

  Is that fire coming out from between his lips? No, that's impossible. He's just drunk. Don't waste your time on him.

  The truck of soldiers bumped after them, soldiers firing at them. Tyler screamed again.

  "Faster. You've got to go faster," he yelled, ducking down, hands covering his head.

  "I'm going as fast as I can," Jetta yelled back.

  Silence. Only the sounds were the truck's engine and Shango's whistling. He sat leaned back in his seat, looking out the window, hands behind his neck, like he was enjoying the scenery on some guided tour.

  Why isn't he terrified?

  Jetta found a smaller road and took a sharp turn, throwing Tyler into the lap of Shango, and they ended up on some small dirt road. The car skidded sideways until she finally got it back on track. She panted as she looked in the rearview mirror, but the truck with soldiers was still right behind them. Another shot was fired and this time it hit inside the car and went out through the windshield. The window cracked and shattered, throwing glass everywhere.