₦airaland Forum

Dackrapper:
Larrysun the great! ride on.

indodon:
larrysun baba... Man wey sabi ride on

queenitee:
What a small world!!!

Eddyella:
Nyc write-up Oga Larry.


Xpecting more......

Anigreat:







Dear LarrySun


I just want you to know that you are the best thing that has ever happened to nairaland literature section even outside nairaland.
I have been praying secretly for you, that you have the recognition you deserve in the world of literature, and i will be the happiest person on earth the day that happened.


"A man’s gift opens doors for him, and brings him before great men" This rare gift of yours must open doors for you... This is not my word, but God's word!

Ann2012:
Thanks for the update

Aniesko222:
[color=#000099][/color]Nice story u have here larrysun more Wisdom from God to you

jayman00004:
well done sir , please update in time ooooo

Vulcanheph:
Hooray ! ! ! This story has made it to frontpage.

rukidanty:
larrysun..this book never finish since..i stopped reading since you stopped sending me my constant update on WhatsApp even though you are still owing me one episodes I paid for..well nice work

chioma8:
Larrysun, you're too talented..... keep it up.

Tolulopefinest:
When will Larrysun become a worldwide celebrated writer? He's just too good to be at this level .

Kaycee9242:
well done Larry and thanks so much for the update

sparta191:
[quote author=LarrySun
I salute you, the chinua achebe of naira Land literature. baba u too much. i can almost visualize every and anything you're talking about through my mind eye.

Eddyella:
Just came across this today.

I must really commend u Mr Larrysun,u re a good writer.

More wisdom nd more ink 2 ur pen..

Kontiniu d good work Oga Larry.I dey 4low u bumper 2 bumper like kilode!!!

francium001:
Black the Black, the brain guy, Larrysun keep it up. Thanks for the update

Fazemood:
king larrysun

arfezces:
Thanks for this update, have been follow this story for so long now, I must say you are such a grate writer, I wish you more wisdom.

jenifer007:
Thank you Professor Larry.....your level of intelligence is undisputed

OlufemiWhit:
Wonderful........ Bless up larry

Update 5

II

Peter held Maria’s hand as they disembarked from the bus. He knew how tired the girl was and he would have loved that they spent more time resting in the bus as it transported them across the cities of Lagos but he knew how unsafe that would be for both of them. One thing he was certain abut was that Basket must have memorised the license plate number of the vehicle; and the police had a way of locating marked vehicles.

It was already dark at this time and there was little chance that the bus would be found out so soon in this night but Peter was not willing to take that chance. Besides, if he knew Basket very well in the past, policemen would be waiting for the bus at the final bus-stop. To avoid that, they had to find another vehicle.

Lagos was a city that never slept; although it was very dark, people still went about their normal day-to-day activities. People walked up and down the roads, traders still displayed their wares; indeed, some were just beginning to set up their shops – these ones had goods that sold mostly at nights. Peter never left Maria’s hand as they strolled past the throng of a thousand different pedestrians to locate the vehicle that would transport them somewhere a lot safer. They found a taxi and hailed it.

“Where are we going?” Maria asked Peter as soon as they stepped into the car.

“First and foremost, we need to get away from here,” replied Black, “Then we find a good hotel to lodge in for the night.”

He saw her gasp in shock.

“Hotel?” she asked incredulously.

Peter grinned at her. “Get your filthy mind off the gutter. I’m not going to do anything to you except dress your wound. That thing needs to be treated fast.”

“You get your dirty mind a bath,” she returned. “I’m not worried about what you would do. We can’t go to a hotel.”

“Why not?”

“Officer JB will find us! Has that not occurred to you?”

Peter shook his head. “I doubt it. That’s not possible. Do you know how many hotels we have in Lagos alone? There’s no way he would possibly find us.”

Maria stared at him. “You really don’t know him as you claim to. If he could find me where I lived, then there’s no way he won’t find us in a hotel room.”

“He won’t.”

“We need somewhere more secure.”

“Where do you suggest? A church?”

“Oh, don’t be silly!” she punched him in the shoulder, “Don’t you have a home?”

Peter was silent for a short time. He was trying to process the question. His home. Would it be a wise decision to take this girl to his place? He had never brought anyone to his home. Since his encounter with Rhoda in Port-Harcourt, he had learnt his lesson. He had almost got caught because Rhoda knew where he lived she had been used to bring him down but he had narrowly escaped. Since that moment, he had sworn never to allow anyone know where he lived. Now this girl, a girl he had just met today, was asking him to take her to his home. It was dangerous. It would be silly of him if he did; he would be going against his own principle if he did, and he might pay dearly for it. The right thing to do was take her to a hotel, but she had disapproved of that due to her own reason, which seemed justified.

“Why are you suddenly silent?”

“I don’t think taking you to my apartment is a good idea.”

“Why do you think so?”

“I’d be exposing myself to a lot of risks if I did.”

“But that’s the safest place for now,” Then she suddenly paused. She held her head gingerly in one hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s the headache again.”

Without thinking further, Peter gave the taxi-driver the address of his home.

“Please drive as fast as you can, I’ll double your payment.”

“I’m so tired,” said Maria, “I feel dizzy. I just want to rest.”

“Careful, don’t rest your head against the seat.” He wanted to tell her to rest her head on his shoulder but he didn’t know how to say it. He didn’t want to sound to her like he was trying to take advantage of her. But before he would even say the thought out, he felt the girl’s head against his right shoulder. The next thing he felt was the warmth; she was burning up.

“You have fever, Maria.”

“I’ll be fine. I just need to rest. Don’t worry about me, Peter.”

But Black was worried. The girl was in a lot of pains; she was only trying not to show it. She had exerted herself too much from running from Basket. She was not supposed to be running in her condition. Now she was not only bleeding from her wound, her illness had also returned. As they travelled in silence, Peter swore he was going to make her well again. He would heal her wound and then treat her fever.

By the time the car stopped in front of Peter’s apartment, Maria was already asleep on his shoulder. He tapped her gently.

“We’re there, Maria,” he spoke gently.

He guided her out of the car and held her firmly to prevent her from falling off. He could see that she was very weak now; she could not walk any further distance. He paid the driver, watched him drive away and disappear from the road before he took the girl to his particular apartment. He had to be very careful, and he ensured that nobody saw them as he took her in.

Peter Black’s apartment was a two-room self-contained bungalow among other apartments of the same design. He turned on the lights as he guided the girl into the living room. He made her sit in the sofa, locked the door behind them and went to the bathroom to get some water. He proceeded to the store cabinet and got some aspirin. Maria was half-asleep by the time he returned to the living room.

“Lie on my legs, Maria,” he told her as he sat beside her.

The girl looked into his eyes before she obliged him. He gently pulled her hair away to reveal the wound more clearly; it was gory to look at, but he was going to take good care of it. Firstly, Peter cleaned the wound with the napkin and the water he had provided. Then he continued to dab it with the hydrogen peroxide he had purchased from the pharmacy. When he was satisfied that the wound had been cleaned right, he applied a healing ointment and the drugs Maria had told him to buy. Finally, he bandaged the wound very carefully. He was certain that the wound would heal up within a week if he continued cleaning it and changing the bandages. But he doubted if Maria would want to stay that long with him, or if Basket would not discover them before that time. He looked at the girl lying on his laps and he felt tears welling up his eyes. She was suffering too much. He wished he had known her earlier; he would have protected her against any harm. He pulled a strand of hair away from her face and listened to her laboured breathing as she slept.

He gently rested her head on the sofa as he rose up and went to the kitchen. He made a quick meal of rice and stew within half an hour. He returned to the living room with a steaming plate of the food. Then he tapped Maria awake.

“Sit up, Maria, it’s time to eat.”

“I want to sleep,” she spoke groggily.

“I know, but you need to eat and take some medicines.”

“I have no appetite.”

“Just try to eat as little as you can. Your temperature is increasing; you have to eat something and take some drugs.”

She reluctantly sat up and collected the food from him. Peter watched her as she ate the food slowly. She was chewing deliberately and steadily.

“Aren’t you going to eat too?”

Peter smiled. “Don’t worry about me. There’s more food in the kitchen for me. You just eat to your fill.”

She paused and said, “Take a bite with me.”

“The food is for you.”

“I can’t finish it.”

“Just eat as much as you can.”

She scooped a spoonful of rice and brought it to Peter’s face. “Here, take it.”

Peter looked in her face and a smile crossed his lips. He opened his mouth and Maria fed him. She gave him another spoonful and he accepted it. Then another, and another. Black was wise enough to know that what she was doing had nothing to do with romance; she was only worried that he was trying to starve himself because of that, and she would not have that, so she decided to feed him. Her intentions were far from any form of intimacy but he liked her gesture all the same. At least, she cared about him; it might not be as much as he cared about her but it was something. Love is sweetest when it’s requited; an unrequited love is a torturous feeling, especially when you discover that the one you genuinely love is in love with another person – even more painful when that person she’s in love with does not share her feelings. In this case, however, things seemed to work for him, although he wasn’t entirely sure. He knew nothing about this girl’s past except what she had decided to tell him. What if she was in love with someone else in her past? What if that person was still around somewhere wondering where she was? Peter was beginning to feel insecure and he didn’t like this feeling. He was scared, scared of losing her to someone else.

He knew there was nothing he could do about it if Maria was in love with someone else. It was just something he would not be able to control. If she had eyes for any other man, then he had lost her already. He knew how the mind of a woman worked. If they loved a man, nothing in this world could take their affections away from that man. Experience had taught him so much in that discipline; Rhoda Gold had done everything she could to have him to herself, but unfortunately, he didn’t share the same kind of love she had for him, and everything had ended in disaster.

Somehow, he felt that everything that had happened to him so far, what had brought him here to this moment, was as a result of the unrequited love between him and Rhoda Gold. Although Rhoda was no longer here, she had been responsible for everything that had happened to him, to Basket, and even to Maria. It was a kaleidoscope, it was a butterfly effect. The decisions the three of them had made about a decade earlier had somehow resulted in what this girl, Maria, was going through. He knew how hard it was to explain but he believed strongly in it. The resultant effect of him, Rhoda and Basket had affected Maria’s life. It had caused her to be jailed, it had resulted in the injury she had, it had cost her the freedom she deserved, it had made her a fugitive. If that was not the case, how did Basket suddenly enter the case after five years of both of them losing touch? How come Basket was willing to arrest Maria whereas he was ready to save her? Everything was connected, he believed.

“You’re not eating enough,” said Peter. He took the plate of food from her and began to feed her.

A few spoonfuls later, Maria shook her head and refused to accept more. Peter did not force her to take any further as his mother always begged him to do whenever he was sick as a child. Instead, he gave her the aspirin and some other drugs to take. After making sure she took the drugs, left her to lie back on the sofa as he went to the bathroom to have his bath.
After a few minutes, he returned to the living room and gently tapped her awake again. Without any explanation, he took her by the hand again and led her into the bedroom; she did not resist him.

He laid her on the bed and pulled the sheet over her body. He would have preferred that she had her bath but he knew how terribly weak she was. The following morning when her strength returned, she would have a thorough bath. Right now, the most important thing for her was to have enough rest. He grabbed a second blanket, turned off the light and returned to the living room. He laid on the sofa and covered himself. It was not long before he slept off too.

***

Maria woke before him the following morning; and by the time Peter rose from the sofa, the girl had already taken her bath. She had regained her strength. He found her in the bedroom dressing her own wound herself.

“Good morning, sunshine,” she greeted as he stepped into the room. “Help me with this bandage, will you?”

Peter smiled. Truly, this was a very strong girl. It was almost unbelievable that this was the same girl who was dying last night.

“How are you feeling now?”

“I feel a lot better,” she replied, “I feel safe.”

“Are you strong enough to go out?”

She stared at him. “Where are we going?”

“You need a change of clothes.”

“I don’t want to expose myself,. You know I’m wanted. Every police officer out there will be searching for me. They will want to take me back to prison.” she said, “Why don’t you get it instead?”

He nodded. She made sense. If she went out now, people would notice her, especially considering the conspicuous bandage wrapped around her head.

“What kind of dress would you like?”

She smiled at him. “I’ll wear anything you buy.”

“I’ll be back as soon as possible. Lock the door as soon as I step out. Don’t answer anyone who is not me, okay?”

“Okay. Please don’t stay too long. I’ll be worried.”

“I won’t.”

Peter left the house. He was dressed in a flannel shirt, a face cap and jeans trousers. He wore a pair of black shoes to match the black spectacles that shielded his eyes. He did not go to the boutique immediately. Instead, he returned to the spot of chase the previous day. He was very careful. He walked to the spot he had parked his car when he was trying to get away from Basket. He wasn’t trying to get it back, he just wanted to know what had become of it. The car was no longer there; he knew exactly what had happened. Basket had had the car taken to the police station. They would take it apart and try to find anything that would lead them to Peter. Black was not worried about this; he knew they were never going to find anything.

He bought the clothes and returned home. He knew exactly what he was going to do next. Maria had already prepared breakfast when he returned. She made yam and egg sauce. Then she fried plantain to go with it.

Before the meal, Peter allowed her to wear the clothes he bought her. They all looked perfect on her; she looked stunning, and every time she returned to the living room to ask him how she looked, he was always speechless by her beauty. He wanted to tell her how he felt about her but the fear of rejection held his tongue in place.

“Now what next?” Maria asked as they sat behind their meals.

“How do you mean?” asked Black as he shoveled a forkful of yam into his mouth.

“What do we do next? How do we totally get Officer JB off our back?”

“I’ve not come up with a solution yet. What do you suggest?”

“Let’s leave Lagos for good. We’ll be safe in a faraway state.”

Peter shook his head. “No, that won’t work. Basky is determined; he will chase us to the end of the earth. No matter where we go, he will find a way to get us. Besides, I can’t just leave like that.”

“Why not?”

“I have a friend I am taking care of.”

“A friend? Where is he?”

“The same hospital you escaped from.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I wish I were,” replied he, ‘He’s an old man I found. He was dying in his home. I had to take him to the hospital. It turned out he had appendicitis and the doctors had to perform an operation on him.”

“Is he still in the hospital?”

“Yes.”

“What about his family members?”

“I don’t know them.”

“But does he have?”

Peter nodded. “He once told me his grand –” he suddenly paused.

“What’s wrong?”

“Tell me, Maria, what ward were you kept in in High Cross Hospital?”

“Ward 37.”

“He was kept in Ward 32, along the same corridor as yours."

“What has that got to do with me?”

“You don’t understand!”

“Please make me do.”

“Old Cargo once told me he met his grandson in the hospital. Although the grandson didn’t recognise him but Old Cargo knew him. Everything is connected now. He told me his grandson had come to check a patient in the hospital. You were that patient he came to check. I didn’t realise it at the time but it’s now very clear to me.”

Maria continued staring at him. “I still don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“The grandson Old Cargo was telling me about, the same one who didn’t recognise him, was Basket.”

“Basket?”

“The same one you called Officer JB.”

“Wow! What a small world! What are you going to do now?”

“I need to talk to Basket.”

“How are you going to do that?”

He smiled. “Leave everything to me. I now have leverage over my old friend.”

Update 4

***

OJB, Officer John Balewa, did not know how to navigate the tendons of his legs to make him run faster, but he sure knew how to navigate the gears of a motorcycle to speed a lot faster. However, his effort seemed futile because of the person he was chasing. As he was good with a vehicle of two wheels, so was Blackie good with vehicles of four wheels. He knew exactly who he was dealing with; and for a moment, he had forgotten totally about Maria and was now bent on catching Peter Black. What he was going to do with him, he had no idea yet but he was surely going to make him pay for what he did to him five years earlier. Peter had stabbed him in the back, and he was going to repay that cruelty, this time, however, he was going to look him in the eyes as he stabbed him in the chest. Only cowards attack from the back, and he, John Balewa, was not a coward; he had never been.

He pursued the car at top speed. At first, he lost sight of it, but he soon saw it speeding down the major express-road. He hoped Black would continue down that path, but knowing how smart the boy was, Balewa was certain that Peter would not fall in that trap, except if he was no longer as intelligent as he used to be. And when the car took a right turning, Balewa almost smiled; the bastard still got it after all. He was going to prove to Peter this time around that his cunningness, his cleverness, his smartness would not work on him this time around. For years, he had been cleverly stabbing him in the back because he, Balewa, trusted him. And after his departure, he had sworn never to be a victim of betrayal again. Rather than being the victim, he would be the perpetrator. He had net a lot of devious people in his journey through life, and he had dealt with every one of them accordingly. Peter Black had taught him to be more wary of people, to see their tricks miles away, and he had protected himself effectively with this knowledge. With this wisdom, he had managed to rise high in the police force; but at a certain level of his career, he refused to be ranked. He had his reason; the only single reason was Peter Black.

It was only after he had succeeded in putting Peter in jail that he would allow himself to be ranked. He prayed God help him to achieve that; because if Peter so much as resisted arrest, he would not hesitate to put the thief down. Black might want to call his bluff, but it would be shocking to him to find out that the friend he betrayed five years ago was now a completely changed person.

The various turnings in the streets annoyed Balewa; these was the kinds of streets criminals thrived in. They could easily make an escape by simply taking a turn and they would be gone forever; and Black had chosen this street for that particular purpose. This proved to him that Peter was not new in the neighbourhood; his knowledge of this place was proof that he had been in Lagos for a while. Balewa wondered why they had just been meeting now.

As he turned the corner, he wondered who came to Lagos first between them. It must have been Peter. The criminal had been conceiving the idea of coming to Lagos for a while. He had planned to elope with Rhoda and come down to Lagos; but he, Balewa, had been too trusting and too stupid to see all the bold handwritings on the walls. The days Peter would skip schools for no serious reasons, the moment he would suddenly come upon Rhoda and Peter in a room even when he did not invite her; he had suspected nothing, everything had been screaming to him that both of them were having a secret affair but he was too silly to see it, too trusting to suspect anything remote.

He wondered who other people actually suffered this kind of deception. A husband might trust his wife enough to leave her in the house while he went out to search for the daily bread, but the innocent male neighbour next door always sneaked in to screw her without his knowledge. He might even have caught both of them alone on various occasions but he didn’t suspect anything because he trusted his wife. This deception, of course, might go on forever without the man knowing anything, except he literally caught both of them together in bed. Sometimes, the cheating spouse might play safe, she might not be giving it to the next-door neighbor but to her spiritual father in church; she would kneel before the ‘man of God’ but never bowed before her own husband, because the ‘chosen one’ has more control over her than her better-half.

Discreet cheating can come in various ways; the next-door neighbor, the pastor, the plumber, the husband’s brother, his father, the ex, the university classmate, the secondary school crush, the street thug, the neighbour’s teenage son, even the wife’s cousin, her step-father, her step-brother, anyone, even her father and brother. But the innocent husband would not suspect anything because the wife gives him no reason whatsoever to be suspicious; he would think he was the only one who had access between her legs but he would be greatly mistaken; his wife is just too good in the game of deception, and it might continue without being detected.

The wife, too, can be a victim of cheating. In fact, some will argue that men tend to cheat more than women; but Balewa was not ready to accept that. However, he was willing to agree that some men could be so devious that they were willing to sleep with anything wrapped in skirts, and they were crafty enough to hide their infidelity from their wives. On many occasions, a wife has brought her sister to live with them, to assist in the house-chores, but her husband has always been screwing the girl since the first week of her arrival. And since the girl too is jealous of her sister, will keep this affair a secret. But the wife will not suspect anything because her husband is always complaining of her sister, giving her the idea that he doesn’t like the fact that her family member is living with them; he will suggest she leaves because she is invading their privacy. But he doesn’t want her to leave. He is being an Iago who is always whispering to the ears of Othello about his suspicion of Desdemona and Cassio, and still tells Othello not to take his words seriously because he’s not sure of what he’s saying. Indeed, the husbands have always proved to be the greatest deceivers in some circumstances. He could be sleeping with the next-door neighbour, the next-door neighbour’s wife, the neighbours’ teenager daughters, the pastor’s wife, the street’s most beautiful girl, the housemaid, the wife’s hairdresser, the wife’s fashion designer, her makeup artist, the wife’s friend, the wife’s enemy, her mother, her cousin, both the wife’s older and younger sisters; but the innocent wife would never suspect anything until she catches them entangled in bed, or one of these aforementioned people got pregnant for her husband. Then she would realise that the man she had always trusted was a beast; and the marriage that had always seemed so sweet would suddenly turn sour.

In some cases, both the husband and the wife were incurable cheats, hiding the truth from each other. The cheating husband might trust his wife to be faithful, and the cheating wife her husband to be faithful too. The result of this is usually disastrous. There are some marriages that are so broken that both spouses only share a roof, they both go out to screw whoever and then return to live as families. They know each other’s deepest secrets and they are willing to live by that. It is an unwritten agreement. At least, these ones know where they stand, they are still a lot better off than the cowards that cannot be honest with their spouses.

To Balewa, Peter Black and Rhoda Gold were such cowards. He was more hurt by the actions of Peter than of Rhoda. He had never expected that he would be betrayed by his best friend. This was why he was able to easily forgive Rhoda; Peter, however, he would destroy. He wondered again why he forgave Rhoda. Maybe even after everything, she still had a hold over him; he had never stopped falling in love with her, and that was why he took the ultimate decision. He loved Rhoda enough to be able to forgive her but he just couldn’t bring himself to let what Peter did go unpunished. This seemed like his best opportunity to exert his revenge on the traitor.

Without thinking whatsoever, he was taking every fist turning he found. Oftentimes, this was the best form of movement; if you followed all the first turning enough, and they all led to one exit, you would have exhausted all available turning before you got to the exit. He had come up with this theory by learning about the riddle of the maze. A child had once found his way out of a maze simply by making sure his hand did not leave the wall as he followed the tracks. And so he hoped that he would be able to see Peter’s car soon enough if they had not yet left through the exit. As he moved around with his motorcycle, he never failed asking people around if they had seen a black car with two people in it drive by. Some had shaken their heads and others had pointed him toward the right directions. Eventually, he came upon the car. It was parked in a street corner. As he rode closer to it, he knew that the car was empty. He dismounted from the bike and checked the interior of the car. There was a patch of blood at the headrest of the passenger’s seat. He knew what had happened. Maria was already bleeding again from her wound.

Only if Maria knew that her condition was critical. Balewa was sure the two would be nearly; the bleeding showed that the girl needed medical assistance, so she would not be able to run as fast as she had been running before. Balewa was no longer interested in arresting Maria; the girl had suffered enough, all he wanted for her was just make sure she got the treatment she needed. He needed not to drag her back to prison. It was not even his job to bring her back; other policemen would be tasked with that. If she was able to elude them – after getting treated, of course – then good for her. Balewa now had his mid set on Peter Black. It was only so unfortunate that Maria allied with Peter of all people. He wondered if she would still have gone with him had she known the grievous crimes the seemingly innocent young man had done.

When he eventually arrested Peter, he would prove to her and the rest of the world than Peter Black was a monster, he was a plague that she always be avoided. The world would feel a lot safer if he was locked up in some prison where no one knew whether he existed or not. Then, only then, would Balewa have a rest of mind.

Once again, he asked people around there if they had seen a black-skinned young man and a fair girl come out of the car. Some of them were staring at him weirdly, only a few pointed him in the right direction.

He followed the directed path. It was a straight road, tarred but undivided. It was long, unbent. At first, he saw only cars and sellers of wares, but the road was not as crowded as the one around the National Arts Theatre. There were only a few traders on either sides of the road; indeed, traders are more than buyers, this showed that pedestrians were only few. He rode faster down the road, looking around, searching for his preys. His initial fear was that the two might have taken another turning, but he didn’t seem to notice any turning as he rode past.

Then he saw them.

They were still quite far away from him. They were like a dot on the horizon, a smidgen of existence. He was overjoyed. They had made a grave error by ditching the car; they probably thought he had been pursing them with other officers in patrol cars who would be searching for a black Mercedes. He increased the speed of the bike.

Then he made a grave mistake that cost him a lot. Knowing the kind of person Peter Black was, he shouldn’t have made that blunder; he was supposed to know better.

“Maria stop!” he called from afar; he had already spoken the words before he could stop himself, and he knew it was a grave error indeed.

***

They were not walking. The girl was tired. Peter Black would have loved to continue running but the girl couldn’t go on anymore. She was looking very weak now. The blood that was seeping from the back of her head had started to get conspicuous. He knew she needed medical supplies very fast. He was on the lookout for a pharmacy. He would have loved to take her to a hospital but he wasn’t willing to take that chance. It was because of Maria they were now in the open. Had she been all right, he wouldn’t have exposed them to this road, but he needed to get medical supplies, and it was in this public place he could find a pharmacy.

They had found a pharmacy after many minutes of walking. Peter had bought some band aid, cotton wool, hydrogen peroxide, surgical scissors, thread, and some other stuff and drugs Maria had also told him to get. He paid for the supplies and they left the pharmacy to continue their escape. Now they needed another vehicle. If they could find one, they would be home free. He would take her to his apartment and get her treated. Finally, he was sure they had shaken off Basket.

“Maria stop!” they heard the voice from behind. It was distant and faint but Peter could recognise the voice if it was a whisper, Maria too was too familiar with the voice to not know who it belonged to.

Black looked back and saw Basket speeding towards them on the same motorcycle. He knew running was useless now, and there was no way they could get a vehicle now.

“He’s coming!” Maria wailed, “Save me! Please save me! I don’t want to go back to jail! Please Peter, save me!”

Her words cut through his heart. He was sure he would give up his life for her right there if that would ensure her freedom. He looked into her eyes and said:
“Do you trust me?”

There was doubt in her eyes. Peter could see it.

“I know you are just knowing about me now. But I promise you that you’re not going back to jail. I need you to trust me.”

Her reply came in a soft whisper, a soft painful whisper, “I trust you.”

“I’m getting us out of here. He’s not going to catch us.”

Having said that, Peter looked back again; Basket was gaining very fast. He searched around. His brain working furiously. He lived for these kinds of danger; if he could not escape now, then he was no longer the Peter Black he used to be. He would as well change his name to something else.

He quickly crossed to the other side of the road to meet a woman selling okra. She had a basin of freshly ground okra that she was about to tie in bits in nylons for sale.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” Peter greeted quickly and continued without waiting for response, “How much will you sell your okra to me?”

He didn’t wait for a reply either. He reached into his pocket and counted out money which he gave to her. Then he picked up the basin, poured its content in a bucket and added plenty water. He picked up the bucket and went to the road; he pretended to trip and allowed content of the bucket to splash across the road.

He returned the bucket to the woman who was looking at him as if he had gone mad. “Oops! I tripped.” He placed down the bucket.

The woman was telling him she would not refund him but Peter was no longer listening. He went to Maria and said, “Let’s go.”

***

Although he was still considerably far away, Basket was seeing everything Peter was doing but he didn’t understand why he was doing it. And by the time he realised what was going on, it was too late.

The wheels of the motorcycle glided across the floor and the handle began to wobble in his hands. He tried to control it but it was futile; he lost his navigation and balance. The motorcycle fell and rolled across the road. They both fell in a nearby gutter. He was not critically injured but his clothes and body were soiled with grimes and filths from the gutter; in fact, a few drops of the green algae of the gutter fell on his lips.

By the time he crawled out of the drainage system, Peter and Maria were already boarding a bus. He saw Peter cast one final look at him; the criminal was smiling. Balewa knew what that smile meant.

Peter Black was ready to play the game of cat and mouse with him, and Maria was the trophy.

King2019:
I doff my cap for you sir...you woke my love for literature...when I thought it was dead...now I think your book will be really worth it...

King2019:
yes... thought I sent it wrongly but I confirmed I was right

emonis88:
Nice one.!

Holluwaphlexy:
larrysun abi LSD in short both.. it's a privilege to have you around at this generation I appreciate your writing skills sooooo natural

Hormohwumi:
pls where can I find the full story

queenitee:
Beautiful

IgweBUIKE1:
another story that will take the op one year to update...you would have been done reading like five stories om here before this one will even get to chapter two