TWILIGHT LOST

Chapter one
FRANK had always enjoyed the thrill of athletics, but the ambiance of this reality was unimaginable. The forest was dark and would have had perfect silence except for the faint howls. Frank was in a race for his life. He had stuttered on a tree stump but sprung back to flight, panting and forging. Despite no destination on his mind, he was sure to limp and race for as far as his feet could go. He could feel the pressure getting intensely nearer; the faint howls of the hounds are more audible and figments of torch rays reflect unsteadily along his path. A bullet from a modified colt .45 semiautomatic pistol had cut through his lower limb and the trail of blood kept them on his trail. He knew he had to stop the bleeding, but their proximity kept him on the run.

Two Mercedes vans and a black sedan pulled over at the entrance of the old forest reserve. Over the years, government poaching had rendered the reserve redundant, with no wildlife, so commoners go there often to collect wood after tipping the guard, who was now lying lifeless on the ground. A hefty man, six feet tall and fierce looking dropped off the first Mercedes with a cigarette in his mouth and a rifle on his left hand. He cocked his rifle and started barking out orders, immediately about 10 men dropped off the vans and Sedan. They started gathering around the hefty man who was now walking towards the black sedan. ‘’open the boot” he sneered at the Sedan driver, who immediately opened the car trunk and got off the car. The trunk was filled with various sorts of assault rifles and upon the hefty man’s nod, all of the men possessed a rifle each. ‘’He is in here somewhere. Joe and Judy are chasing after him already’’ barked the hefty man ‘’scatter in groups, don’t return without him and the drive.’’ ‘’yes sir’’ they dispatched.

The hounds loitered around a big mossy rock where the blood trail ended. Joe and Judy soon caught up with the dogs and guided them in all directions in the bid for them to scent something. “Joey, the men are in there with you. Do you have him?” “Nah boss’” Joe replied the voice on the radio, “we no see am again, the blood don stop and the dogs no fit scent am” “find him Joey. No story, find him” barked the voice. “This fucked up mehn, this bastard, over some stupid flash drive” Judy murmured angrily. “’Take am”, Joe said, offering one of the hounds, now tethered, to Judy. “go tha way, we meet back here”

Frank remained motionless on a tree branch. A patch of sock was now hanging around his leg to stop the bleeding. A few hours ago, his hunters were his comrade, they’ve dined, wined killed and even shared women together until he decided to pick that phone call, that damned phone call. But he needed the money and there is no going back. He will get the money and get out of the country. He had hoped stealing the files will be much easier but a failsafe had triggered the central system and now Emeka is on his tail. Emeka, hefty and fierce looking, six feet tall man, runs The conglomerate. No one, except Emeka and employers, knows all the ramifications of the conglomerate. The conglomerate is notorious for organised crimes and boys like Frank are recruited and subjected to the Conglomerate in their early twenties. There are rumours that “the conglomerate” wields strong political influence within various states across the country; however these are unconfirmed as those with tales don’t live to tell them.
Frank’s 5.7 ft tall, unkempt hair, tanned skin and his weight of 250 pounds was no unbearable for the branch that gave him solace after two hours. Frank noticed and hopped on another branch. The architect of his misery had promised to call. “I’ll do the calling” he had told Frank from the first contact.
Joe, Judy and the boys began rallying around the rock after a futile search. They had gone to all ends of the reserve, even the hut where they pile their dead and the river that marked the end of the forest. Not a sign. “Oga nothing” Joe radioed. “nothing? Ten men and you all see nothing?” he radioed back. “sorry oga, but he’s not yhere.” Emeka lit another cigarette “its late, gather the men. We’ll back tomorrow. He can’t get far.”

Even in the deepest afflictions, it is not uncommon for the human mind to slumber; it is one of nature’s daring gifts. After three sedentary hours, Frank was in a mild slumber when his cell phone vibrated. It was the same voice that initiated his ordeal and had promised to guide him through it. “do you have it?” said the electronically manipulated voice “yes and where the hell are you? They are after me you know that abi” “walk down to the river, deliver the package to my man. There’s a ride waiting” “what about the money? I’m charg—“ the phone beeped twice and the line was off. Frank ran with all the speed he could glean, limping. There was a boat and in it was the silhouette of a stocky man biding Frank aboard. He leapt in the rescue and they launched into the dark.