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In all my time working for chief this far, I had never taken a life.

Sure, I had seen more than a few lives snuffed out, even ordered quite a few of these executions myself (under Chief's instructions), but I had never actively taken a life myself.

Given my inexperience in the matter, the squelching sound the bikers brain being flattened by the rear wheel of the vehicle made me wince slightly, but that was all.

There was no time to come to terms with it as all my thoughts focused on the pressing need to get Ifeoma out of there and to the nearest safehouse where we could hole up and plan our next steps.

From all indications, it was obvious that the villa was attacked, and from the fact that I met it in flames, then the only logical conclusion to arrive at, was that the casualty rate was high.

An unexpected wave of nausea washed over me at the thought.

With an uneasy squirm, I clamped down on my rapidly growing sense of unease.

Casualties aside, I needed to get Ifeoma to the safehouse, and that singular task (as if on auto-mode) took over every fibre of my thought process as I steadily accelerated the vehicle along the highway.

cassbeat:
Been a while[color=#990000][/color]

Sorry, na acada cause am

Vaguely, I heard Ifeoma mumble something about Coconut water, but my mind automatically tuned it out as background noise. As I successfully executed my vehicle spinning manoeuvre and sped off in the opposite direction.

With the wind whipping past my head from the shattered window, frustrated shouts filtered into my ears, and the aggressive sound of a motor coming to life made my heart skip a beat.

I pushed the vehicle into fifth gear and and floored the accelerator, with no care for clanking sounds coming from the bonnet (no doubt, the bullet barrage had damaged something vital)

Amid the rapid thumping of my heart, my eardrums rumbled as the sound of a rapidly accelerating motorcycle came closer and closer.

Without putting much thought into it, I hit the brakes, allowing the pursuer to get close enough that we were side by side.

I took note of the bikers features, a shaved scalp, a slender frame and multiple facial piercings.

Without much care for the look of confusion that his face melded into, I rammed into the bald idiot.

I had a very basic idea of what today was going to entail.

Nothing very fancy, just a simple affair of consuming disgusting amounts of junk food whilst binge watching from the vast storage of movies I had been saving for whenever I got a day off.

That idea was pretty much buried already with the way things had gone already.

First, my plans for a quiet movie watching day had been rudely terminated by Ifeoma coming to remind me that I had promised to spend time with her today.

Normally this wouldn't be an issue as I had promised to actually spend time with today.

We sat out, and despite my reservations, we actually had fun today.

Now in my infinitesmally small world, I never imagined that we would come back to meet Chief's Villa consumed in orange flames.

Talk more of being sprayed with bullets of all things.
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With an aggressive tug, I felt the vehicle skid across the asphalt in a manner that guaranteed that certain portions of the tire would melt off from the friction.

Amidst the hail of gunfire, a plume of white smoke partially engulfed the car as the tires furiously skidded across the coal tar as I speedily sought to turn the vehicle.

However, none had been bold enough to outrightly attack his place of abode. I was stunned out of my sense of shock my the repeating booming retort of a semi-automatic weapon of sorts. I forced Ifeoma's head down just in time to bring mine down as well to avoid the reckless spray of bullets that reduced the vehicle windows to an uneven cutting spray of crystalline glass shards

Chief had amassed a considerable amount of enemies over the years, and more than a few had had a cold war with him...

To say that I was stunned would be akin to saying water was wet, after spending as long as I had with chief, it would be naive of me to expect that a person like him wouldn`t have enemies. Chief had been immersing his fingers in more than a few illegal pies long before I was born and I had been in his world long enough to know that the longer one spent swimming in illegality, the more enemies one amassed.

When you spend a certain portion of your life dipping and marinating your fingers in not so wholesome activities, you develop an additional sense of sorts.

I wouldn’t go as far as referring to it as a sixth sense… no, nothing as outlandish as that.

You just tend to develop the ability to sense when the metaphorical shit is about to hit the metaphorical fan.

Ifeoma was shit faced drunk, but (somehow) still conscious… okay maybe calling her conscious would be a bit of an exaggeration. Her eyes were open no doubt, but I highly doubted that her mental faculties were functioning beyond their baseline capabilities.

It had taken a great deal of will power to avoid taking a peek at the daringly low neck line of her polo shirt and keep my focus on the fairly idle road.

Chief’s daughter spent a great deal of the journey mumbling semi-coherent, half formed sentences of which I paid no mind as I mentally berated myself for letting us stay out so late and letting her get shit faced.

My mental alarm bells had begun ringing just before I was within viewing range of the villa, and my sense of dread was amplified by the brightness emanating from the villa once I was within viewing range.

Now, Chief pumped a lot of funds into powering up the villa on a daily basis (I should know, I was the one that saw to it that the money was used for what it was meant to be used for after all), and as such, it wasn’t an usual occurrence for the villa to be so bright at night.

No.

My unease stemmed from the memory that the last time an incandescent bulb had been used in the villa was three years ago and even then, those were in the smaller buildings well beyond the villa fence.

My rapidly growing unease metamorphosed into full-grown horror as the thick plumes of smoke billowing into the night sky from the blazing inferno that rapidly ascended the walls of the buildings in the villa in a swarm of fiery all-consuming tongues of flame.

I raised a brow at the unexpected request before giving her a wry look.
“I take it that the Arizona induced hunger has kicked in?”
She shot me a dirty look.
I sipped my Monster energy drink in return.
We chatted idly and dug into our meal as we waited for the second batch of Nkwobi to arrive, with Ifeoma regaling me with stories of funny/interesting things that happened on her campus and I listening and chipping in a comment or two in reaction to her narrations.
Most of her experiences were nothing new to me (I had passed through a higher institution after all) and as such, I had a lot to interject/add to keep the narrative going.
But it wasn’t a common occurrence for Ifeoma to open up and vibe freely. Sure, she was an unrepentant flirt eight times out of ten whenever I was around, but she did so suggestively, with one liner innuendos and such.
Her opening up like this gave me the opportunity to figure her out and as such, despite my experience in tertiary level shenanigans, I fought down the human instinct to butt in with a relatable story of my own and listened, saying just enough to keep her engaged in the conversation.
I was half way done with the pot of my Nkwobi when Ifeoma polished off the last of hers. She licked her fingers in a way that didn’t seem all that innocent and I (figuring that another set of Nkwobi was on the way) pushed my pot to her to get her to quit slurping on the broth that ran down her fingers.
She took the offer with a bubbly ‘Thank you’ and began to make quick work of it while I guzzled down the last of my energy drink and lit another Oris to pass time.
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Time went by fast and before I knew it, it was a few minutes to midnight.
I had partaken in the consumption of the additional two plates of Nkwobi as Ifeoma had underestimated her own hunger and as such I didn’t mind her clearing the two pots.
I figured it was time to get her home, so I called for the bar maid to get the bill.
“How much?” my voice came out parched and I considered buying a canned drink for the road, before quickly perishing the thought.
If I knew Ifeoma well enough, she could capitalize on that to make us stay longer… did I forget to mention that the bush bar had an affiliated guest house a stone throw away?
The bar maid responded once she was done typing away on her phones calculator.
“Nine thousand, eight fifty sir”
Before I had the chance to reach for my pocket, Ifeoma was already going through her purse and thrust out some notes at the bar maid.
I pursed my lips.
“Give me change” Ifeoma added with a slight slur in her voice.
Here’s to hoping that Chief would be asleep when I got back to the villa.

How una dey?

Had to borrow a friend's android phone to make this longer... enjoy.

A bar maid approached our table with two wooden bowls filled to the brim with steaming hot Nkwobi. A previously forgotten hunger resurfaced as i took note of the thick pasty broth that ran down the sides of the bowls in thin, slow moving rivulets and i felt saliva pool in my mouth and stopped myself from openly salivating at the prospect of consuming that quantity of meat as the bar maid set the bowls down. Ifeoma gave the bowls a disdainful look before stopping the already leaving bar maid with a hand gesture, "Get two more bowls" she stated blandly. The bar maid blinked, obviously befuddled, before mumbling a barely decipherable 'okay' and beating a hasty retreat.

"Kodak Black or Lil Pump?" Ifeoma asked with a glint in her eyes as twin plumes of smoke left her nostrils in streaming bursts. I flicked my spent cigarette stub away and took a sip of my energy drink, "Neither... I'm a 21 Savage kind of guy" i retorted, mentally deciding to give myself some time before lighting another tobacco stick. Ifeoma stifled an giggle, settling for a derisive snort, "Didn't take you to be a fan of the wannabe gangster types" she snarked. I cracked a knuckle, "First of all, I'm not a fan, i just like the blending of his lyrics with his beats..." I took another sip of my drink, "... Secondly, all that talk of his persona being an act is just what it is. Talk. We have no means of confirming it. Or do I need to...". Ifeoma cut me off, "Oya i don hear, i don't want a lecture on 21 Savage abeg..." her look became smug, "...The fact that you're defending him shows that you're a fan though" she finished in a sing-song tone. I hid my embarassment at being exposed behind a sip of Monster.