She Bleeds for Us: The Galactic Consortium 3

Chapter 13

Growing up in the poorest ghetto of Freetown had taught Gabriel a lifetimes worth of street smarts. He saw a man's shoulders tense up and knew a check point was ahead, even though he couldn't see it through the crowd.

He turned off the trail, hiding himself in the jungle that pushed up to the side. He knew what was coming. How did the others not?

They would be stopped at the checkpoint and then detained. Then taken...

He wasn't sure where the refugees were being taken but he knew they weren't being allowed to continue on towards Guinea. And he had no intention of ending up in a refugee camp this side of the border.

So he hid. There was a sound of voices talking, filled with confusion. Someone had a bullhorn but even with it Gabriel couldn't make out exactly what was being said. Before a long a truck filled with refugees would heading south.

And for awhile the checkpoint would be poorly manned. He slid out of his hiding spot but stayed within the eaves of the jungle. He headed north. He spied the checkpoint and watched it awhile.

He was lucky, the commander must have gone with the truck. Without his supervision the men made coffee on a fire and gathered around. A couple kept watch on the trail itself but they didn't bother paying close attention and Gabriel slipped by just inside the forest eaves, unnoticed.

The trail was empty for a long time afterwards. Then he came to a crossroads and another group of refugees appeared. He waited, letting them pass.He quietly joined the back of their ranks. He kept his eye on the men's shoulders and heads, watching for their first sign of nerves. Then he'd repeat the process.

He's crossed a dozen checkpoints already and was feeling confident with his progress. But the trip was far longer than he'd realized. He'd walked all day and skirted the town of Port Loko, for which the road got it's name. But he'd gathered from a group of refugees that Kambia was at least as far from Port Loko as Port Loko was from Pepel and the ferry.

Soon he'd have to find a place to camp for the night. Hopefully it would be with people who might feed him. He'd gotten scraps, usually from women, as he walked but his hunger was fierce. He'd found an abandoned tin can and bent it out for a cup, so he could take care of his own thirst at any stream or water source. But there was little he could do about hunger.

None of this made him want to stop. If anything it strengthened his drive. He would find her and demand to know why she wasn't do more for his people. Besides, what did Grandma eat? She was trapped in the ghetto, unable to go to the market. Her hunger must be greater than his.

The jungle was giving way to farms, with fields of rice, cassava and groundnuts. The walking path veered away from the road and for a short time was out of sight of it. Not there had been much traffic to see, accept for the occasional military vehicle.

There was a village just off the path. A bonfire blazed in the center. Drums beat and there were dancers. Many of the refugees seemed to be heading that way, but Gabriel hung back, unsure.

A group of men were standing by the path, gesturing the refugees off and towards the village. One cried out in Krio, "we are poor here, but we haven't forgotten our duty to those in need. Come, eat. It is the least we can do."

Gabriel joined the throng. There was a large cauldron of rice and cassava mixed with bits of some meat. Gabriel came away with a double portion, the second for a nonexistent relative he was traveling with. He felt bad about lying to people who were helping the needy, but it kept anyone from getting too curious about a young boy traveling on his own. Besides, his hunger had grown to a palpable thing. He understood now that it could drive grown men to do far worse than lie.

He ate both portions quickly and almost considering sneaking back for more. But he avoided the central fire and the crowd. Some instinct warned him against trusting this place too much. Instead he found a place on the very edge of the village to settle down for bed.

He woke sometime in the night. The fire still burned and the crowd still gathered, but the drums had fallen silent. The village chief was speaking to a military man, all eyes on the two of them.

"These guests of yours," the military man was saying. "Need to return to their own villages."

The chief gave a weary nod and the crowd reflected his resigned expression.

Gabriel belly crawled towards the field, hiding himself between two rows of cassava plants as men in military uniforms closed in around the village and began hauling the refugees away.

Sleep had fled. The moon was rising and the fields held none of the fear that the jungle did. Gabriel rose and headed north.