We hiked through a small patch of forest with trees so dense they blocked out the sky. Vines wrapped their tendrils around gray, scaly bark and moss grew like a carpet under our feet. I had to squint when we emerged from the dark canopy, even though a blanket of cotton wool clouds obscured the sun. The dirt track we were on veered and merged with a wider road up ahead.
“One more check,” said Jack, turning his phone on. He searched for a signal and shook his head. “We’re still out of range.”
I adjusted my backpack as we marched on. It wasn’t as heavy as Jack’s, but the load was starting to take its toll.
“Do you hear that?” Jack shielded his eyes and peered behind me. “There’s a car coming. We might be able to hitch a ride.”
I turned and followed his gaze. A white van was rattling down the road, music blaring.
“Is that adala dala?” I asked.
“No. Looks like a private vehicle.” Jack stood in the middle of the road, flagging it down.
It was hard to see anyone through the dirty windshield, but there was yellow text emblazoned on the side—something about repairing air conditioners. The van slowed as it approached, but just as Jack lowered his hands, the driver suddenly hit the accelerator. The wheels spun as he came at Jack, head on, at full speed.
It was a blatant, deliberate disregard for his life, almost like he was road-kill trophy to the lunatics in the car who were cheering to run him over. I caught a glimpse of them—grinning and banging the sides of the car, windows down, as they hurtled toward him.
“Jack!” I gasped as they zoomed past me in a flash of dust and hot metal.
He dived to the side of the road, dodging the front bumper by a hair’s breadth. The van careened down the road, and I heard the loud, raucous sound of laughter.
Keh keh keh keh.
The driver gave a blaring victory honk, celebrating his dangerous, infantile prank.
“Fuckers!” Jack got up and dusted himself off.
“Are you all right?” My stomach was in knots. “Who runs a person off the road for fun?” I stared after the van as it disappeared around the bend, the beat of heavy bass fading with it.
Jack rubbed his shoulder, rolling it forward and then back. His eyes had a burning, faraway look. “I hope we never see them again.” His gaze refocused on me. “The sooner we get to Magesa, the better. Come on.”
My fingers threaded through the warmth of his outreached hand. They were shaky and stiff.
“Frightened for me, Rodel?” Jack raised my hand to his lips.
“No.” I swallowed. His hot lips on my skin were breaking down my brain-to-mouth connection. “Just wishing we’d packed the oh-shit handle.”
“Here.” He laughed, hooking my finger through one of the belt loops on his jeans. “Hold tight and don’t let go.”
He might have meant it as a joke, but I took him up on it. We must have walked another mile like that when a rusty pickup truck came into view.
“Don’t even think about it,” I said, as it approached.
“Chicken,” he muttered, under his breath.
“Really?” I stopped, hands on my hips. “You would chance it? After what just happened?”
“Really.” He grinned. “Chicken.”
The truck bounced by, wheat colored chickens squawking at us from its cargo hold. We stood by the side of the road, staring after it in a cloud of exhaust fumes.
“Come on.” He nudged my elbow. “You know you want to laugh.”
I kissed him then, suddenly and without warning, standing on my tiptoes to reach him.
“What was that for?” His mouth quirked higher.
I wanted to know what your lips taste like after a smile.I shook my head and grinned like I was holding a big secret.
