A warm breeze blew through the hut. The smell hit me. Earthy, stinky, like death. My body shook. I breathed in deeply just to make sure. I’d never forget that smell. I crawled to the opening of my hut and looked out. Men in olive uniforms were entering the camp. One huge shadow stood out because he walked with a limp. The General.
My mind spun. This was my chance. Oba’s hut was hidden in the trees. There still might be time. I grabbed my knife, rifle, and machete, everything oiled and cleaned, ready for battle. Oba had trained me well. I snuck out of my hut and ran through the jungle. When I got to his hut, I slowed down. A figure moved in the shadows. Oba. The warlord knew his village was being attacked. Instead of fighting, he was trying to escape. Coward.
I knew where he was going to hide. The cave. I might be able to beat him there, but I would have to go into the swamp. I ran, using my machete to hack through the jungle. Branches scratched my body, blood all over my arms. The pain didn’t bother me. All I cared about was making it to the cave first.
But I had to cross the swamp to beat him. I hoped the crocs were sleeping. I kicked off my boots and dropped the machete. Slipping into the slimy water, I held my rifle above my head. The water smelled nasty, made me feel sick. I breathed through my mouth and swam straight across.
Fifty feet to land. Forty. Thirty.
A sound. Something moved in the water. I looked right and left. Shadows and strange noises. My hand tightened on the rifle. My legs kicked harder. A soft splash. I swam backward, ready to shoot. I didn’t want to warn Oba, but I didn’t want the crocs to get me either.
Two ugly heads popped up. Then the crocs slid back under the water, disappearing. Scared, so scared. I kicked as hard as I could. Where were they? Something bumped into my back. I turned. Land, I’d reached land.
I stumbled out, fell onto my knees, and breathed hard. That was a close one. I put the shoulder strap of my AK-47 across my chest and checked to be sure that I still had my knife.
Hurrying along the path, I stopped to listen. Silence. I’d beaten Oba to the cave.
I crawled through the opening and reached back to brush away the marks my belly had made. I leaned against the wall and listened. Someone was coming. Oba. I climbed onto a ledge to be taller than him. Waited.
Footsteps. A figure stepped inside.
I cracked my rifle butt over his head. Oba lurched forward, dropped his AK, and fell to his knees. Before he could move, I jumped down, kicked the AK away, and aimed my rifle at him.
“Oh, it’s you, Mzungu.” He smiled, his teeth and eyes all yellow.
He was an idiot if he thought he could still boss me around with the General here. Now I had a way to get out of this hell. “Not Mzungu. I’m Nikos Christos Paris.”
Oba looked at me as if I was crazy. His hand reached for his rifle.
“Don’t move.”
He kept his hands still but didn’t take his eyes off his weapon.
“What are you doing, idiot? We must hide. An enemy is attacking the camp.”
“You are my enemy.”
“Don’t be stupid. I took you in, treated you like my son.”
“You’re not my father. You’re a bully.” I lifted my AK-47. “This one is for Nobo.” I shot his left leg. He screamed and tried again to reach for his rifle. “This one is for Mr. Grantam.” I shot his right leg.
Another yell. He twitched. Blood pooled on the ground. “Leave me be. We needed food.” Spit shot out of his mouth. Oba had no honor. He always killed people weaker than him.
I stepped forward and pointed the rifle at his head. “This one is for Brandon.”
I fired, and Oba was dead.
Noises sounded outside the cave. Soldiers hurried inside. I dropped my rifle to the ground. I’d done what I’d needed to do. The rest I didn’t care about.
The General squeezed inside, holding Kofi by the ear. The skinny man’s eyes were glassy and large. He’d bet on the wrong side after all. The General looked down at Oba, then raised his eyebrows.
“Let’s get you home, boy.”
Home. I wasn’t sure what that meant anymore.
THE REWARD
I was going home today. I’d spent two weeks at the General’s house letting my sores get better and eating boatloads of food. I threw up a lot, sick from fighting my need for the candies. I sweated a lot, and my stomach hurt bad. The General didn’t lock me in the shed again, but I was never left alone.
I think the giant wanted to make me look better before sending me to back to Papa. A local doctor gave me cream to rub on my cuts. My body was covered in marks from leeches, and I had lots of bruises. I looked in a mirror for the first time since I’d been taken. At first I didn’t think it was me. I could count my ribs. My eyes were different, my cheeks sunken in.
The General told me I had been gone nine months. I couldn’t believe it. Was it really that long? I was so angry. All this time, and my father couldn’t find me?
One morning the General gave me new clothes and a shiny pair of shoes. He dressed in his uniform with lots of medals, like he was going to a parade.