She Dies (short story)
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Written by AKOGWU JOSEPH CHINONSO…
The Inspector General of the Gennanian police
force, Destiny Noel, strode leisurely down the
stairs, his fingers making quick, fussy
movements on the rails. Many things dwelt on
his mind. His legs buckled and he suddenly
stopped. A pulsating headache overtook him
and his heart palpitated with the rush of
adrenaline. After a while, he summoned a little
strength and hastened to the sitting room.
Soon, he was lying stretched out on a couch.
The previous day, his doctor had called his
attention to his rising blood pressure and
advised that he found sufficient time for rest.
When his doctor said that, he had stared at
him with utter defiance. Was he not aware the
nation was in a dire and complex situation?
He thought. “I’m the Inspector General of
police for goodness sake.” He told his doctor,
“The nation looks up to me to get her out of
this mess.” He said with a note of finality. The
doctor looked up at him and suggested, “Why
don’t you ask the president to give you some
days off. Your health is at stake and you can’t
help the nation if you break down.” The IG
smiled, “Thanks for your concern.” He
squeezed his shoulder gently, “I’ll not
breakdown, not now.” And he had dismissed
him. Though the IG was glad when he was
appointed the Inspector General by the late
President Williams Bruno, the current security
condition of the nation was seriously weighing
down on him. To compound his misery, he
now lived on his past glory but was
determined to resurrect as the savior the
nation once knew. Even as he made up his
mind on this, he knew his chances were lean.
After a while, he shut his eyes and
concentrated his thoughts on the late
president. He remembered with pains how he
was murdered right under his nose and how
the police were still up to the moment kept in
the dark about the person behind his death.
At this point, he felt his headache increasing
and immediately swallowed some pills he took
from his Bosom pocket. Reaching for a can of
water on the stool, he poured some quantity
into a glass and drank it. Feeling somewhat
relieved, he allowed his mind to drift and he
remembered vividly how he came to become
friends with late President Williams Bruno,
many years back, when they were still
undergraduates of Federal University of Efotu,
Genna.
*** It was a bright Thursday morning in the
Federal University of Efotu. The time was 7:45.
The campus was warm and caressing and
there was a cloudless sky above. The campus
buzzed as usual with students and lecturers
going about their daily routine. At the gigantic
campus gate stood a couple of armed military
men screening long line of cars that drove in
and out of the campus. Among the cars
driving in was Williams’ Honda Prelude. The
school gloried in being the oldest university in
the country and the only university built by
the British before they allowed Genna
independence. The dilapidated buildings
scattered all over the compound attested to
that fact. This particular morning, the
atmosphere of the campus seemed calm but
all was not normal. It was the month of the
first coup in the country, the month Major
General Robert Smart struck. Cultists cashed
in on the tension and confusion, which
engulfed the nation and terrorized both
students and lecturers with their nefarious
activities. They connived with the soldiers
working in the school and made the campus
hell for both staff and students. It was the
turn of Williams to be screened. He edged his
car to the gate and put a foot on the brakes,
“Williams Bruno,” he said, “a fourth year
student of law.” He pulled his ID card from his
pocket and showed the soldier who was now
leaning on the window of the passenger’s
seat. The soldier examined it scrupulously and
nodded.
“What’ve you got in the boot?” Williams shook
his head, “Nothing.”
The soldier regarded him, “Let me have a
look.”
Williams shifted the gear to P, got out of the
car and moved behind the car, to the boot.
The soldier followed him. Williams unlocked
the boot. The soldier looked into it, nodded
and handed him his ID
“You can now go.” He waved him on.
Williams smiled, entered the car and sent it
forward. He drove up the main avenue,
slackened brakes and turned left, en route for
his classroom. He was only few miles to his
classroom when he saw them. Two cultists
rushed from under a yew tree to the road,
blocking him. They were holding pistols.
“Pull over here.” One of them said, pointing to
the side of the road, “You know the drill.”
To Be Continued…Links to available episodes
Scroll Down For Epi2 nd 3
Episode 2
Williams pulled over immediately, his heart
hammering violently. His hand was already
shaking as he turned off the ignition. He
closed his eyes for a quick prayer but was
instantly brought back to the reality by a
severe pain that suddenly overtook him. Blood
was dripping down his fine face. One of the
cultists had pushed his hand through the
window and smashed his forehead with a gun.
“Leave the key in the ignition and jump out of
the car this minute.” He fired several shots
into the air and lecturers and students around
the vicinity ran helter-skelter, soon the road
was deserted. No one dared stop them. They
all knew the implication. If you interfere in
their business, you become the next victim. A
story was once told about a dauntless male
student who tried to stop a group of cultists
raping a female lecturer inside a classroom
from the act; who was later found dead in his
room the following morning, his head missing.
Williams clung on to the car key. He wasn’t
going to let them take the car. He determined.
It was his parents’ only car and it had cost a
fortune. He wouldn’t stand the tears that
would streak their ageing faces when he told
them the car was gone.
The cultists grew furious. One of them hit the
roof and said, “We’ve got no time to waste.
Step out immediately.” His voice was a roar.
Williams didn’t respond. He sat still, his body
trembling and his head burning. The blood
was already past his nose and he clenched his
lips tight to stop it from entering his mouth.
One of the cultists, dark with rage forced the
door open and the other helped him to drag
Williams out of the car. They pulled him
across the yew tree to an empty classroom
and began working mercilessly on him. One
was kicking him violently all over his body
while the other was jabbing a gun in the
wound on his forehead. Williams screamed
until his scream became a muffled cry. The
floor was filled with his blood. It was only
when Williams became unconscious that they
decided to leave him. Before they left, they
turned his pockets inside out and took his
wallet. One of them picked the car key from
the floor and they started toward the door.
When they were about eight paces from
Williams, Destiny Noel rushed into the
classroom, panting. He was wearing a black
turtleneck sweater on navy blue jeans.
“Jesus Christ!” He said with a great rage.
“What the hell have you_”
A shot rang out, a bullet making for Noel, but
he was too fast. He stooped immediately and
the bullet missed him, piercing the wall. The
cultists fired four more shots but Noel was
already behind the iron door. He dodged each
bullet with it as he became a bundle of
nerves. They dropped their guns on the floor
and rushed at him. Noel watched them
coming violently toward him and made his
hands into fists. He wasn’t going to let them
kill him without a fight. They got to him, each
aiming to hit him at strategic joints. The first
missed him, blowing the wall and leaving a
crack on it. The second was not unfortunate.
He punched Noel in his ribs, sending him to
the floor. The first, whose eyes now glittered
murderously, whisked out a knife from his
pocket and made to slash Noel’s throat. Noel
saw the knife almost on his neck, made an
acrobatic move to the left and jumped to his
feet immediately. The knife made a deep hole
in the floor and stuck there. The miss sent the
cultist off balance and he tumbled to the
ground. The second aimed his fist at Noel’s
mouth but Noel stopped him halfway with his
forearm and quickly gave him an upper kick,
followed by a knuckle sandwich, breaking his
jaw. A tooth flew out and blood came gushing
out. The cultist felt dizzy but didn’t give up.
He grinned and closed in on Noel, giving him
a hard blow on his cheek. Noel was sent
backwards. He felt the deep cut the cultist
had inflicted on his cheek and the blood
coming out from it. He managed to regain his
balance and looked around for weapons but
found none. In a second, he moved swiftly and
was on the cultist again. Noel hit his elbow at
his broken jaw again and again and watched
him fell on his knees. Blood kept pumping out
of his mouth and splashing on the floor. To
the left, out of the corner of his eyes, Noel saw
the first cultist as he hastened madly toward
him, his knee held in place for a wild kick; his
target was Noel’s g---n. Noel sprinted forward
and the kick missed him and landed on the
jaw of the other cultist. Blood kept flowing
profusely from his jaw and mouth and Noel
gritted his teeth to stifle a laugh. He knew the
young man wouldn’t last the next minute. Like
a rocket, the first cultist rushed for his gun.
He picked it and fired three shots in Noel’s
direction. He almost took Noel unawares but
he was lucky for he jumped behind the one
with a shattered jaw and used him to dodge
the bullets. It was only when this cultist that
was his shield slumped dead that Noel knew
he was going to die. He felt his stomach
quivering and he bit his lips bitterly. I died
saving an innocent life. He thought. The
cultist was now inching closer to him, a smile
that barely went beyond his lips resting on his
face. His short finger was firm on the trigger
and his red eyes were fixed on his lifeless
colleague that lay on the floor.
“Mr. Smart, you’re wonderful.” His voice was
mirthless and he brought his eyes to Noel,
“Your skill is commendable but your time is
up. Tell me, what’ll you miss most when I kill
you?” He was now in front of Noel, the muzzle
pressed hard against his ribs. Noel didn’t
utter a word. He was figuring many things in
his mind, his head slightly bent. The cultist
puckered his lips, “I’m waiting.” He pushed the
muzzle harder against his ribs and Noel felt
an excruciating pain that he felt like
attempting to snatch the gun from him. He
knew what Noel was considering, “Never think
of it.” He said slowly, “Play any funny game
and I’ll make your death painful and lingering.
Macfigure, the comrade you just murdered will
miss his bevy of beautiful girls.” He gave him
a stern look, “I’ll like to know yours. Now, tell
me what you’ll miss most when I kill you. It
won’t change anything but believe me, it’s
going to help.”
To Be Continued…Next
continue
next pls
Ride On
Episode 3
Noel believed him. He knew he would
eventually die, but dying painfully and slowly
was what he didn’t want. He looked him in his
eyes, read the callousness written there and
dropped his gaze. When he finally spoke, his
voice came out in a whisper, “I’ll miss
nothing.” He looked up immediately and
noticed Williams. He was crawling painfully
toward the gun which was some steps from
him. Noel knew he needed to keep the cultist
distracted until Williams got the gun, “Did I
say I’ll miss nothing?” He almost sang, “Sorry,
that was a mistake. I’ll miss everything: my
parents, my friends, my classmates, everyone I
value,” Williams was now holding the gun. He
aimed at the cultist’s spinal cord and fought
to steady his nervous finger on the trigger.
“I’ll miss Jack, my dog,” Noel’s voice grew
louder but slower, “and most importantly, I’ll
miss you.” Williams pulled the trigger that
instant and the cultist dropped dead.In the next fifteen minutes, Williams was
already on admission in the campus clinic. He
looked pale and lay unconscious. He was put
on a drip and was being giving a blood
transfusion. Noel was sitting on a seat at the
tail end of the ward, his eyes fixed on Williams
and a brown plaster was on his left cheek.
Two detectives stood beside the bed. One was
in his forties, tall, with a sensitive face and
hazel eyes. He looked serious minded and had
the habit of blinking non-stop whenever he
spoke. The other was equally in his forties, but
a bit younger. He was an attractive and
avuncular-looking man who seemed to be
smiling always. They were both in casual
clothes. After a brief examination of the
unconscious Williams, they walked over to
Noel.
“I’m Inspector Stephen” the older one said, his
eyes blinking. He placed a palm on his
colleague’s shoulder, “and this is Inspector
Marcus. We’re from the anti-robbery squad.
We need to ask you some questions about the
incident that just happened.” They sat down.
Marcus took out a notepad and a ballpoint
from his Bosom pocket.
“You’re Destiny Noel?” Stephen said, running
his eyes through him.
Noel wondered whether it was a statement or
a question. He nodded, “Yes.”
“A third year student of criminology?”
Noel nodded and adjusted forward.
“How did you become involved in what
happened today?” Stephen’s voice was flat.
Noel inhaled slowly, “I was heading to the
library when I heard shots. The next thing was
that I saw two cultists dragging this young
man” he pointed at Williams, “into an empty
classroom. I knew immediately that something
was wrong and was forced to save his life
though I didn’t know_”
To Be Continued… -
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