Soul's Survivor

by Navi' Robins

  The hail of bullets returned, cutting through the soldiers covering the doctor. He could hear them screaming in agony and felt their blood splatter all over his face. The assault went on for over three minutes, and then as suddenly as it started, everything stopped. The young soldiers still alive, yet mortally wounded, were either screaming in pain or whimpering out their last breath. The damaged side door flung open, and Daniel got a glimpse of the shooters. It was déjà vu from many years ago. The men that peered inside the vehicle looked just like the boys that lay on top of him.

  “Where’s the doctor?” one of the men asked a barely conscious soldier. The boy remained silent, holding a large, bloody wound on his side. The attacker didn’t ask again as he raised his rifle and fired several bullets into the boy’s body. He then began to push aside the bodies, looking for the doctor, now buried deeper beneath bodies, metal, and rubble.

  “Is he in there?” asked another voice from outside the vehicle.

  “I don’t see him, and there is so much shit, I can’t tell if he’s among the dead or even in here at all.”

  “I need to inform Mr. Wek immediately,” yelled the voice outside the vehicle.

  “Fuck that! I’ll throw a grenade inside: that way, we know for sure he’s dead. No need to inform Mr. Wek of anything. He’ll become vexed and try to cheat us out of our pay!”

  Daniel began to shake in terror at the thought of a grenade going off inside the vehicle. That would surely kill him. He closed his eyes tightly and held his breath as he prepared himself to feel the heat and shrapnel of the exploding grenade.

  “No! No grenade, you imbecile! If you throw a grenade in there, we won’t get physical confirmation. Just empty another clip into the vehicle, and let’s go. Our job is done here. He was in this vehicle, and as far as I’m concerned, the doctor is dead, and if not, he’ll be dead soon enough.”

  “No, I don’t care about physical confirmation! I just want to make sure he’s dead!”

  “Soldier, I am giving you an order. Do not throw a grenade in this vehicle!”

  Daniel heard the double click and the loud cracking sound of the rifle spewing death throughout the vehicle. The bodies on top of him shook violently as they were torn to pieces by the multitude of bullets that ripped through the damaged truck. Then he felt it . . . The burning, penetrating, agonizing pain of a bullet tearing through his right thigh. He wanted to scream, but he put his hand over his mouth . . . right before feeling another bullet pierced through his left side that seemed to reopen an old wound. The pain was indescribable, but the doctor remained silent, trying to fight back the need to scream out in agony. It seemed like the attacker had an endless number of bullets because he appeared to go on and on without reloading. Then suddenly, the loud cracking stopped, and the attacker slammed the door and ran off.

  Daniel could hear other men yelling and the sounds of several vehicles pulling away in the distance. He listened for another five minutes before he removed his hands from his mouth and yelled out in pain. He placed his hand on his wounded side, feeling his blood pour out of it like thick syrup. He tried to move, but the pain in his side made it difficult for him to brace himself to push the bodies off him, so he decided to lie there silently and wait for the calming veil of death to overtake his consciousness . . .

  Chapter 24

  The Countdown

  Ayana collapsed in Meagan’s arms after the smug and unconcerned Patrick Wek delivered the news that Daniel’s motorcade was attacked, and he feared that he was one of the many casualties. Meagan looked at Mr. Wek searching for answers in his eyes, but all she saw was a coldness that seemed almost inhuman. The courtroom went into panic mode as the news of the attack on the motorcade spread like wildfire. Meagan glanced over at Kronte and his legal team, and the look on Kronte’s face said it all. He was all too pleased with himself, and he couldn’t hide it. The longer Meagan looked at him, she discovered he wasn’t trying to hide his satisfaction with the news. Then in classic Kronte fashion, he smiled while looking in the women’s direction and made a shooting gesture toward them.

  Meagan adjusted herself to contend with the added weight of Ayana leaning on her and rolled her eyes at his antics. Although all common sense should tell her she should be terrified of Kronte, she wasn’t. For a few seconds, she considered trying to reach for one of the security forces’ guns and taking justice in her own hands, but she knew it wouldn’t give her or anyone affected by the man’s evil reign of terror one ounce of justice.

  “Ayana, pull yourself together. We have to address the panel in a few minutes, and we need to ask for a continuance until we can confirm Daniel’s death. There’s still a chance he’s not dead.”

  Ayana looked up at her, shook her head, and then continued to wail in agony. Kronte was becoming more excited and aroused by the pain Ayana was feeling, knowing her boyfriend was dead.

  Stupid bitch. Should’ve never tried to cross me.

  He then leaned over and began to whisper in his lawyer’s ear. The lawyer immediately got up and headed out of the courtroom’s massive double doors, into the white, marble-covered hallway. Outside in the hallway, Patrick was addressing a group of reporters, and the lawyer stood by waiting for his interview to be done. Once Patrick addressed the last reporter, he fixed his tie proudly and turned around to address the lawyer.

  “What is it?” he asked in his heavy Sudanese accent.

  Without saying a word, the lawyer nodded and walked back inside the courtroom. Rolling his eyes, Patrick pulled his cell phone out of his grey suit jacket pocket and placed a call. The background noise of a noisy engine and the loud, chaotic chatter of multiple voices shouting and vying to be heard blasted in his ear when the person picked up, and he quickly pulled the phone back.

  “Hello? Mr. Wek?”

  “Report!”

  “Everyone is dead, sir.”

  “I need visual confirmation that the target was silenced.”

  “Sorry, sir, we don’t have visual confirmation. There were so many bodies on top of him, so we decided to shoot up the entire vehicle again to make sure.”

  Patrick gritted his teeth and quickly moved out of sight and hearing of anyone that may be standing at the door leading into the courtroom.

  “You fucking idiot! I told you visual confirmation is the only way you will get paid. Now, take your incompetent ass back to the vehicle and get visual confirmation. Do it now!”

  “But, sir, the area is crawling with government security forces now—”

  “I don’t care! Get it done,” he grunted into the phone and abruptly ended the call. Looking around to make sure no one was nearby, he quietly swore through his teeth before heading back into the courtroom. Once inside, he quickly looked over at the lawyer who was seated next to Kronte and shook his head. Kronte’s entire demeanor changed when he noticed Patrick’s response. Meagan was watching both men closely, and their actions confirmed what she already knew—they were all in league with one another. Once she noticed Kronte’s change in confidence, she quickly moved toward the front of the large courtroom to discuss her options with the court judges.

  “Your Honors, please excuse my intrusion, but in light of the current events, I would humbly request a continuance until we can confirm the fate of Dr. Bennett.”

  Before the head judge, a dark, heavy man wearing an old-English white wig could lean forward to respond, Kronte’s lawyer sprang into action, trying to prevent the judge from deciding before he had input.

  “Your Honor, I move to have this charade stopped now, and my client allowed to go free! Their so-called star witness is believed to be dead, and we can’t wait for him to be raised from the dead. A report from the area says there were no survivors. Without his testimony, the UN Security Council has nothing on my client, and I request he be released.”

  The judge’s face immediately turned sour as he stared at the rude lawyer making his way up to the panel with a calm, yet apparent, disgust.

  “Counsel, I don’
t know how they do things in Europe, but in Southern Sudan, we don’t just blurt out orders to a panel of judges, nor do we call these proceedings a ‘charade. ’ The charges against your client are serious. These are not mere traffic violations or petty theft. Your client is accused of murder, rape, genocide, and a demon’s basket full of other evils. It’s either the miracle of stupidity or maybe intoxication that would lead you to believe I would even entertain releasing that man before this trial is concluded or the prosecution drops all charges.”

  Hearing the judge’s response, the lawyer stopped in his tracks and retreated to Kronte’s side. Meagan looked down at the floor, smiled, and then looked up to wait for the judge to give her an answer for her request. The judge kept his eyes on the lawyer, shaking his head. Then he looked down at Meagan, widening his eyes and shaking his head, annoyed by her presence.

  “What is it?”

  “The continuance, Your Honor?”

  “Oh, that,” he responded while throwing his hands in the air. “You people are asking too much today. But because the defense was so rude, I will grant you seven days to gather whatever evidence you can against Kronte.”

  “Your Honor, that’s not enough time to find out if . . .”

  “Ms. Quinn, there is very little chance your Dr. Bennett is alive, so let’s not go over that again. Seven days and not a day more. Come back here with a solid case, or we will have to call it a mistrial and, unfortunately, release the accused. Am I making myself clear?”

  “Yes, Your Honor,” she responded, exhaling deeply.

  “Good, now have a good day,” he yelled, slamming his gavel.

  Back at the hotel, Ayana went into her room and closed the door without saying a word. Meagan sat down on the couch and looked off in the distance in a daze. Then an aggressive knock jolted her out of her daydream.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s Sergeant Edwards, ma’am.”

  “Are you alone?” she yelled from behind the door while looking through the peephole.

  “Ma’am?”

  Rolling her eyes, she opened the door and forcefully pulled him into the room, then looked down either side of the hallway before closing the door.

  “What are you doing here, Sergeant?”

  “The Canadian and French ambassadors sent me and three platoons of Special Forces personnel, ma’am. They heard about what happened to the doctor, but when the UN Security Forces went to search the vehicle, his body wasn’t there. It appeared someone dragged him out. We tracked a vehicle headed toward the west side of Juba. We believe he’s alive and in the company of friendlies, but he’s not out of the woods yet. If we know he might still be alive, so does Kronte’s men.”

  “Listen to me, Sergeant, Patrick Wek is a rat, and he’s on Kronte’s payroll.”

  “How do you know that, ma’am? Do you have solid intel you can share to back that up?”

  “No, I don’t,” she replied angrily.

  “Then we can’t use that, but we will keep that in advisement while we move out to go search for the doctor. You and Ms. Burundi should remain at the hotel. I am leaving a platoon here for your protection.”

  “You can leave whomever you want, but we are not staying here.”

  “Ma’am?”

  She moved aggressively toward the soldier and began to whisper in his ear. After about a minute, he nodded and immediately left the room without saying a word . . .

  * * *

  The smell of blood, alcohol, and an unfamiliar, earthy, and organic smell filled Daniel’s nostrils, causing him to jerk and shake. His eyes shot open; then the pain from his wounds caught up with his consciousness, and he began to cough and squirm. He looked around to take in his environment, which appeared to be a red mud hut with a burning fire on the far right side of the structure. A pile of bloodied white towels lay near the fire, as well as a couple of empty bottles of rubbing alcohol. The roof of the hut was made of small tree branches sewn tightly together that effectively kept the storm raging outside, where it belonged. He felt exhausted, thirsty, and starved, but he closed his eyes, thankful that he was still among the land of the living.

  The sound of movement behind him startled him, and he called out to find out who was sharing this hut with him. A strained and deep accented voice answered, “My name is Barry.”

  “Your name is Barry, and you are Sudanese,” Daniel said, trying to twist his body so he could see to whom he was speaking.

  “Yes, Barry. Don’t worry about how misplaced my name is. Barry, Barry, Barry, Barry, Barry,” the man kept repeating while clapping his hands. “My name is the least of your troubles, Dr. Bennett.”

  “You know who I am?”

  “Of course. Otherwise, I would’ve left you out there to die.”

  “That’s kind of cold,” Daniel whispered while clearing his throat.

  “Ha! I have a village and family to think about. The last thing my people need is for Kronte’s men to come here and set it—and us—on fire.”

  “You’re the chief here?”

  “Correct.”

  “Why would you risk your village and family for me?”

  “Because whether Kronte’s men come here today or tonight or next week, they will eventually come, and so far, you are the only person that has the power to stop him. So I brought you here to heal you and then help you get to the courthouse so that you can do what you came here to do.”

  “Are you the village doctor?”

  “Oh no, Gregory is the village doctor. But after everyone finds out I brought you here, I might end up being the village idiot.”

  There go those out-of-place names again.

  “So, Gregory and Barry saved my life?”

  “Correct.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Aah, don’t thank us yet, Dr. Bennett. We have yet to figure out how we are going to get you to the courthouse alive.”

  “Why take me there? Just get me to the hotel.”

  “To be a doctor, you aren’t very bright.”

  “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Doctor, the hotel is a private establishment with people that work there for a very small salary. It’s clear Kronte has eyes everywhere. One sight of you there and his men will come there to finish the job. At the courthouse, you have a better chance, because that’s a government building that also houses the UN Security offices. Although Kronte is an evil man, he isn’t a stupid man. He knows attacking any UN soldiers or personnel will be displeasing to his sponsors. So, going to the hotel would end in your death and anyone that’s with you. Therefore, it’s the courthouse, so you can put that monster away for good and free my people from his treachery.”

  “Then are you are basically using me?”

  “It’s no different than how the Western world treats Africa and Africans. They use our land, resources, and the people. If we have no value to your own advancement, you toss us away like garbage.”

  “Not all people from the West are like that.”

  “Maybe, but none of you stand up to your politicians. You sit by and watch your governments destroy entire civilizations as if it’s trivial entertainment. So, excuse my coldness toward your situation, outside of you testifying against Kronte.”

  “Then what’s next?”

  “Well, the word is your woman Ayana and Ms. Quinn were allowed seven days by the courts to either find you or bring more evidence against Kronte. You’ve been out for forty-eight hours, so we have five more days to get you healed enough to move you. You lost a lot of blood, but our doctor Gregory was able to stop the bleeding and remove the bullet from your side. He used some natural herbs that should speed up your recovery.”

  Hearing Meagan’s name made Daniel subconsciously reach down for the device that he had strapped to his thigh, but he quickly discovered it was no longer there.

  “If you are looking for that tracking and listening device, it’s no longer operational. When the bullet went through your thigh, that device got damaged. Good
thing, because it took most of the force of the bullet. Had it not been there, I’m afraid you may not have been able to walk again.”

  “To be just a village chief, you seem to know a lot about a lot.”

  “You Americans look at what a person has as a measurement of their intellect or self-worth,” Barry chuckled.

  “That’s not who I am.”

  “Oh, you don’t have anything to prove to me, Doctor. The fact that you are here, trying to rid us of Kronte, shows the kind of man you are. That’s why you are in my home and not out there rotting on the side of the road. Enough talk. Get some rest. Someone will be along to bring you water and something to eat. It’s not McDonald’s, but it’s all we have,” he joked before walking out of the hut.

  Daniel lay there, trying to gather his thoughts about the events during his ride to the courthouse.

  All those young boys . . . dead.

  At that moment and thinking about their sacrifice, Daniel decided that no matter what, Kronte wasn’t going to stop him from testifying. Even if it meant his life, he would testify, and whatever he needed to do to get to the courthouse, he was willing to do it. Then his mind wandered to thoughts of Ayana and the pain she must be feeling, believing he was dead. Exhaling, he placed his hands on his head and tried to calm himself and prepare his body for an interesting trip in the next five days.

  Chapter 25

  The Comeback Kid

  Patrick Wek, sitting in the backseat of his Mercedes, screamed obscenities to one of the soldiers-turned-assassin on his cell phone. They discovered that the doctor’s body wasn’t at the site of the attack, and, therefore, there was a good chance he survived.

  He’s like a fucking “cocka” roach.

  They’d searched the area for any signs of the doctor, but couldn’t find him, so they concluded someone might have helped him get away. Patrick knew that if the doctor were allowed to live and testify, he would be exposed, and Kronte would make sure his family would pay the ultimate price if he didn’t close the loop. He turned his attention to his surroundings and noticed that the driver was driving much too slowly for him, so he reached forward, smacking the driver across the back of the head, screaming, “Step on it, you idiot!”