Chapter Three – The Road of Shadows
The night swallowed them whole.
Sarah ran blindly through the tall elephant grass, Timo bouncing painfully on her back. His arms clutched her neck so tightly she could hardly breathe. Behind them, the village burned—flames rising into the black sky, smoke trailing like a curse. Gunshots cracked in the distance, each one a reminder of how close death lingered.
“Amma…” Timo whimpered, his small voice trembling. “Where is Akena? Where is Nyara?”
Her throat tightened, but she forced her legs to keep moving. “Hush, my child,” she whispered, though tears streamed down her dusty cheeks. “We will find them. Just hold on to me.”
The grass tore at her arms, her feet bled from sharp stones, but she did not stop. She couldn’t. Each step carried her further from the gunfire, yet deeper into the wilderness she barely knew.
Hours passed. The moon sank low, the night grew colder. At last, when her body threatened to give way, Sarah collapsed beneath an acacia tree. She eased Timo off her back, his face streaked with tears and soot. He shivered violently, and she wrapped him in her torn wrapper.
The boy’s eyes searched hers. “Will they kill us, Amma?”
Sarah pressed a finger to his lips, though her own fear nearly choked her. “Not if we keep quiet. Not if we keep moving.”
Somewhere in the distance, a hyena laughed—a shrill, mocking cry that made Timo bury his face in her chest. She stroked his hair, murmuring a prayer under her breath. Lord, give me strength. Do not let my children be scattered forever.
At dawn, the sun rose red over the wilderness. Sarah hoisted Timo once more and began to walk. They crossed a swamp, the water rising to her waist, leeches clinging to her legs. She waded forward, one step at a time, her child clutching her shoulders. The reeds whispered around them, and every ripple felt like danger waiting to strike.
By midday, hunger gnawed at them. Sarah dug into the soil with trembling fingers, pulling out wild roots. She chewed a piece first, spitting the bitter part, then gave the softer strands to Timo. He chewed reluctantly, but it was all they had.
As the second night fell, Sarah and Timo lay hidden in the hollow of a termite mound, listening to distant voices—men shouting, dogs barking. Rebels were near. Sarah held her child close, her hand over his mouth to silence his whimpers.
Her heart beat so loudly she feared it would betray them.
She closed her eyes, whispering into the darkness: Akena, Nyara…where are you? Hold on. Your mother is still breathing. I will not stop until I find you.
And with the stars burning cold above, Sarah kept her silent vigil—torn, but unbroken.