MONICA

Chapter 2

Scarlet swallowed hard, trying to think of a way out of this situation. She glanced back at the door, hoping to see Monica standing there, ready to help. But her friend was nowhere to be seen. She turned back to the stranger, her hands raised in surrender. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know.” The stranger didn’t say anything. He just stood there, staring at her with cold, calculating eyes. Scarlet felt a wave of disappointment wash over her. She had warned Monica not to follow her, but her niece had been too naive to listen. Now they were both in danger.

Stepping backward cautiously, she aimed to create a gap between herself and the unfamiliar figure. Yet, his movements mirrored hers, the gun remaining trained on her chest. Scarlet recognized the urgency of the situation and knew swift thinking was essential. Protecting her niece and herself was paramount. “What’s your intention?” she inquired, her voice purposefully steady, despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. A hint of amusement danced across the stranger’s face. “I’d like you to accompany me,” he retorted, his tone laced with a sly grin. “Both you and your niece.”

A wave of unease washed over Scarlet. The stakes were high, and this encounter was fraught with uncertainty. While she couldn’t fathom his motives, she understood the gravity of the moment. Composure was key; she couldn’t let him detect her fear. “Leaving isn’t an option,” she replied, her voice quivering ever so slightly. “I have obligations here.” One of the stranger’s eyebrows arched in skepticism. “Obligations?” he repeated mockingly, his words dripping with sarcasm. “Pray, tell me what they are.”

Caught in a tight spot, Scarlet hesitated, wary of revealing too much. Yet, buying time was imperative—time to devise an escape plan. “I’m employed,” she stated, hoping that would suffice as a reason. The stranger responded with a cynical laugh. “Employment, you say?” he mocked. “Your falsehoods aren’t very convincing, you know.” A flush of embarrassment crept onto Scarlet’s cheeks; his observation was accurate. She wasn’t adept at deceit, but she had to attempt it nonetheless, for the sake of their safety.

“I can’t just leave,” she repeated, her voice firmer this time. “I have things to do.” The stranger sighed, as if he was getting impatient. Scarlet felt a twinge of fear in her chest. What was he going to do to her? But before she could even think about running, the stranger lowered his gun and stepped back. He removed the mask and exchanged glance with both Scarlett and Monica.  Scarlet twisted his arm and took control of the gun pointing it at the stranger. Scarlet’s heart was racing as she held the gun firmly in her hand, feeling the weight of it and the cold metal against her skin.

“how are you still alive Johnson. The convoy blew up,” asked Monica as she continuously poked him . “ first, tell your crazy aunt to get that gun away from me, “ scared Mr Johnson begged. “ Auntie, cool down. Put the gun down.” Begged Monica placing her hand on the rifle and slowly pulling it away from her. Scarlett releases her grip and hands the gun back to Johnson, “ next time,” she took in deep breaths before continuing, “take a shot before a girl defeats you.” She left for the sofa.

“ You still mad about what happened scarlet,” asked Johnson moving closer to her. “ Don’t, take another step closer or you’ll know why am called the hollow,” warned Scarlet pulling out a knife out of thin air. Monica stood there transfixed onto the ground thinking, wondering what the hell did he do to anger her aunt like that. She takes in deep breaths and walks to where Scarlet was and sat next to her. “ what happened Johnson? How are you still alive?” asked Monica again. She maintains an eye contact with him for long before he could answer. “ well,” he said as he walked to the window leaning on it, “ I guess I could say it death wasn’t on my side. Its my lucky day.”



FLASHBACK


Mr Johnson was in the police car. His head bowed down as tears flooded his eyes. He raised his head slowly and looked out as the students began to run outside. Mrs Johnson comes out running to the police car. She taps several times saying, “ my husband is innocent please don’t take him, he is not guilty.” “ Ma’am stand aside please, “ requested one of the offices stepping out of the car. The convoy drove out of sight. He looks through the rear view mirror seeing the students and teachers feeling pity for him.




“ Hey, this is not the way to the station,” asked Johnson as he viewed the two through the mirror. Suddenly, he looks out through the window and sees two SUVs speeding towards them. They missed the police car just by an inch. “ that’s why we ain’t going to the station, you pissed off the wrong crowd,” said one of the officers turning his head to face him.



“ How fast can you run sir?” inquired the driver eyeing him from the rear view mirror. “ well, I can’t run like the fastest man alive that’s for sure,” he said as he chuckles with them. “ this is no time to joke Johnson, thank the heavens they don’t know you have a family. That sought of information was detached from you,” said Paul the tall hunky police officer siting on the passenger’s seat. Johnson stretched out his hand and the handcuffs are broken off. A rifle was handed to him. “ take this and run,” Paul the driver suggested as he got off the road and went across the country side.

He skid on the road driving round forming skid marks, building up smoke and dust. “ get out now,” shouted the officers in unison. Johnson didn’t haste any moment, he opened the back door and took off fast into the country’s massive plains. As he was running for his life, he turned his head and boom the convoy went up in flames. Smoke rose as the fire engulfed everything in his path. A drop of tear dropped from his eye as his self conscious brought him back to reality.

“Oh, my, God!” Exclaimed Monica feeling pity for him. Johnson took out his gun, held it tight and piece by piece he dismantled it. Johnson leaned against the window, his back to the world outside. His hands were busy disassembling the gun, piece by piece. The metal clicked and clanked in his hands as he expertly removed each component, dropping them on the ground.  As he worked, the sound of the bullets falling onto the ground echoed throughout the room. It was a harsh, metallic sound that made the hairs on the back of Johnson’s neck stand up.

He focused on his task, moving with precision and care as he stripped the weapon down to its bare bones. The gun was a dangerous thing, a tool designed for killing, and he wanted to make sure it was completely disarmed before he left it alone. Finally, he finished, and he surveyed the pile of gun parts on the floor. It was a strange sight, the weapon that had once been so deadly now reduced to nothing more than a pile of metal. Johnson sighed and leaned his head against the cool glass of the window. He felt exhausted, as though he had just fought a battle. But he knew that he had done the right thing by disarming the gun. It was one less dangerous weapon in the world, and that was something to be proud of.

As he stood there, lost in thought, he felt a sense of peace settle over him. The room was silent now, the echoes of the bullets long gone. And Johnson knew that he had done the right thing, that he had made the world just a little bit safer. “ they saved me from the people who promised to keep us safe,” said Johnson in an low dejected voice feeling sorry for the loss of the two. “ I got to ask Auntie,” said Monica turning to face her, “ where the hell did the knife come from?”

“ She really doesn’t know,” asked Johnson facing her. Scarlett did not respond, she just looked at him disgust by his presence in her house. The akward evening at Scarlett’s house was interrupted by the sudden sound of roaring SUV engines approaching the house. Johnson  quickly sprang into action, barking orders to Scarlett and Monica, the two women sitting in the living room. “Turn off every visible light in the house! Quick!” Johnson commanded.

Scarlett and Monica jumped up from their seats, rushing around the house to turn off all the lights. As they scurried about, they could see the headlights of the approaching SUVs illuminating through the windows, casting eerie shadows across the room. Johnson rushed to the window, peering out cautiously. His heart racing, he turned back to Scarlett and Monica. “Stay here, and don’t move until I give the all-clear,” he warned them. “The police are here.”

Scarlett and Monica exchanged a worried glance, unsure of what was happening outside. They could hear the sound of doors slamming and heavy footsteps approaching the house. Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door, followed by a booming voice shouting, “Police! Open up!” Johnson quickly motioned for Scarlett and Monica to stay back as he approached the door. “ back to where it all started,” said one of the cops through the speaker In front of him.  Monica looked surprised, her mind was in a state of turmoil wondering what he meant by that. Scarlet eyes glowed blue as somewhat of a force field domed them in. “ Find them,” ordered the man in charge. They scanned through the whole compound, up down and through every nook and cranny before going in.

“ Mr Johnson, I know you in here. You can not hide forever, you coward. Come out and face me like a man you are,” said the man in charge being proud of himself. “ hey, auntie, what is a hollow?” said Monica looking at her then she was shocked to see her auntie’s eye glowing blue, “ what the hell is going on? How are your eyes blue?”


“ If we go out, we dead, toast , dead meat, kablamo,” shouted Scarlet looking at Johnson, “who did you piss of this time?” Johnson stood up emerging out of the force field and started walking out as the force field diminished. “ thanks for trying Friends,” he said as tears filled his eyes. He raised his hands high and walked outside. He stood in front of them. “ on your knees, Johnson,” ordered the big guy as rifles at shoulder length surrounded him. He got down one knee at a time as he crossed his fingers and placed them behind his head.

Scarlet and Monica ran frantically towards the garage, their hearts pounding in their chests as they heard the sound of approaching footsteps. They had to get out of there, and fast. Reaching the garage, Scarlet fumbled with the keys before finally finding the right one and unlocking the door. She and Monica jumped into the car, slamming the doors shut just as they heard the sound of gunshots outside. Scarlet quickly turned the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life as she hit the gas pedal. The screeching of tires filled the air as they sped out of the garage and onto the open road.

But it was too late. The armed forces were already on their tail, and as they approached the garage, guns at shoulder length, they saw that Scarlet and Monica were already gone. A high-speed police chase ensued, the wail of sirens and the sound of gunfire ringing out across the city. Scarlet was a skilled driver, but even she couldn’t outrun the pursuing police cars for long. She swerved left, and the armed forces followed suit. But then, without warning, she veered right, sending the soldiers crashing into each other. Scarlet and Monica sped away, their hearts racing as they left the town behind.

The police were hot on their heels, but Scarlet had a few tricks up her sleeve. She took a sharp turn, and the police cars followed, only to find themselves on a dead-end street. Scarlet and Monica took advantage of their confusion and sped off in the opposite direction, leaving the police cars behind. They drove for what seemed like hours, the adrenaline pumping through their veins.


In the car, “ auntie what was he talking about?” asked Monica scared half to death. “ I’ll tell you everything once we safe.”  “ where we going?” asked Monica looking at her. “ we going to a safe house, your parents build just for the two of us,” she replied. Scarlet grips the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white. The wind rushes past the car as she speeds down the highway, the speedometer ticking up towards 100km/h. Monica sits in the passenger seat, her eyes glued to the road ahead. “Slow down, Scarlet,” Monica says, her voice trembling. “You’re going too fast. They not after us auntie.”  But Scarlet doesn’t slow down. Instead, she presses harder on the accelerator, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. Suddenly, a car swerves in front of them, and Scarlet slams on the brakes.

The screech of tires fills the air as the car missed it by an inch passing through an inclined bed of a truck packed, the impact sends Scarlet and Monica flying forward. The car tumbles severally before the airbags deploy with a loud whoosh, cushioning their bodies as the car comes to a stop. They sit there for a moment, the sound of their breathing filling the car. Outside, other drivers stop to see if they can help, but Scarlet and Monica are too shocked to do anything but sit there, hearts pumping hard in their chests. Fragments of images were blurry in her mind as Monica tried to make out of it. She slowly closed her eyes, Losing consciousness.
As time passed, the once-bustling highway had grown quieter, with only a few Cars hurrying to their destinations. Suddenly, the wail of an ambulance siren broke the silence, and a bright red and white vehicle came speeding down the highway. The sound of the siren echoed through the surrounding streets, and soon, a crowd began to form near the scene. As the ambulance drew closer, the crowd grew more agitated, pushing and shoving to get a better view. The paramedics rushed out of the ambulance, and with the help of some onlookers, they quickly secured Monica and Scarlet onto stretchers. Scarlet groaned in pain as the paramedics lifted her onto the stretcher.

The onlookers watched in silence as the paramedics loaded the stretchers into the ambulance and rushed off down the highway back to the city, sirens blaring once again. The crowd slowly dispersed, and the highway returned to its busy state once more.

As the ambulance disappeared from view, Monica and Scarlet lay side by side in the back. Scarlet stretched out her hand holding onto Monica’s hand for comfort. She was in a lot of pain, but she knew they were lucky to be alive. As the ambulance raced towards the hospital, Scarlet closed their eyes and tried to focus on her breathing, hoping that they would soon be out of danger and on the road to recovery.  The paramedics quickly took them out of the back in a stretcher and rushed them to the emergency room. “ Fatal accident, severe wounds. Lucky to still be alive,” said one of the paramedics handing over the two to the night shift doctors and nurse attendees.


Each was placed in different rooms under critical care. The nurses all worked tirelessly trying to give them the best care possible. They took the vitals of the two which seemed odd to them. “sir,” shouted one of the nurses running towards the doctor, “ have you seen anything like this, she’s not human.” She hands a tablet to the doctor who opens it  checking what bugged her. For a few seconds, everything was quiet. No one made a sound just a pin drop of silence.


“ Don’t worry I’ll look into it,” he replied back handing the tablet back to the nurse. He turns around and walks in Scarlet’s room. The doctor locks the door and rolls the sheers to the side closing up every visual from the outside. Scarlett turns her head to face the doctor. She tries to picture the doctor in her mind but all was just a blur. Suddenly, she feels a quick push to the side then back again to her original position.

“Hey, please stop that. You’re making me feel nauseous,” Scarlet implored, her voice carrying a mixture of desperation and unease. Stuttering slightly, she spoke in a subdued tone, clearly affected. The doctor retrieved a small device from his pocket and ignited it, producing a soft light that danced in front of her eyes. The sudden burst of illumination triggered a rush of memories, memories of the accident as she visualized the car’s headlights colliding with them. Her thoughts jolted back to reality when the sound of an alarm bell chimed from the doctor’s phone.

Gradually, her hand began to realign itself, her fractured bones adjusting as if responding to an unspoken command. A quiet sigh escaped Scarlet’s lips as the doctor’s image sharpened in her mind once more. “At last, you’re on the mend,” the doctor remarked, his attentive examination ongoing. “Your heart rate is stable, and your reflexes aren’t too shabby.”

“ its good to see another hollow in my presence,” he said  protruding out a flashy smile,” You don’t know how lonely  it is. How sudden it was to learn that am the only one. Before my granddad passed on, he once told me there were others like me, others more powerful, more resilient. He told me to have hope that one day I’ll find at least one but now they were two.”


“Only one, she has not yet bloomed,” she replied back stretching her body before getting comfy in a sitting position. “ I don’t think so ma’am , look,” Said the doctor pointing out to her niece.  Monica’s body was starting to heal itself. The wounds on her head, her hands, her legs closed up as her bones protruded back into her body. She opened her eyes slowly, looking at the bright light illuminated by the room’s bulb. “ take me to her,” commanded scarlet running to the glass window separating her from Monica.

“Alright, hold onto me,” instructed the doctor, his hand finding its place on Scarlet’s shoulder as he assisted her in walking. Opening the door, he guided her to where Monica was. Monica’s eyes lit up as she spotted her aunt entering the room. “Auntie!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with relief and happiness. Scarlet took a seat beside her niece and embraced her tightly. “Everything is going to be alright, darling,” she reassured in a soothing tone.

Suddenly, the nurse rushed in, her demeanor fraught with urgency. “Sir, we have a problem. An armed gang has just entered the hospital compound,” she informed, her distress palpable. “Wait here, you two. I’ll go and see who these people are,” the doctor declared before exiting the room. Just as he began to leave, Scarlet’s voice reached him from a distance. “Wait,” she called out, and the doctor halted. “What’s your name?” she inquired. “I’m Harman Jones,” he responded before resuming his departure from the hospital.

“Gentlemen, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” Jones asked as he stepped in front of the armed group, his arms outstretched in a show of apparent openness. The leader of the group responded, stating their purpose. “We’ve discovered that you’re harbouring two dangerous fugitives within your hospital. Our mission is to apprehend them and take them into custody.” Jones glanced towards the rear of the vehicles, witnessing officers arming themselves.

“This is a hospital. Lower your weapons,” Jones ordered, his irritation evident as he surveyed the array of firearms, rifles, grenades, and bombs in the hands of the group. The leader continued, enumerating the charges against one of the fugitives. “The older one is facing numerous charges. She’s responsible for the deaths of hundreds during the Sapp raid. She orchestrated the theft of nearly 60 million dollars from the JOMBO bank. Attempted coup against the republic government. Worst of all, she’s connected to the bombing of 10 residential buildings, resulting in the deaths of over 3000 innocent lives.” With the chief of the group moving to the back, Jones swiftly re-entered the hospital and stood resolute at the entrance, preventing their entry.

“I’ll reiterate: this is a hospital. Lower your weapons!” Jones’s voice boomed, his resolve unwavering as the group steadily advanced, their arms poised for action. The chief took confident steps toward Jones, locking their gazes in a tense standoff. “Step aside, or you’ll be charged with obstructing a federal criminal arrest,” the chief commanded, closing the distance with unwavering determination.

Jones instinctively retreated, his arms slowly lowering. “Get them out of here,” he gestured to the nurse, who was still within Monica’s room. “We need to move, now,” the nurse exclaimed, her urgency evident as she dashed towards Monica and Scarlet. “You’ve stirred up trouble with the wrong people,” she warned, her eyes flickering and turning a menacing shade of red in an instant. “Wait,” Scarlet interjected, a sense of confusion and concern surfacing, “I thought he said he was the only one.”

“Move, move! I’ll explain everything in the car,” the nurse instructed, her attention riveted on a wall. With a powerful surge, she smashed through the wall, creating an opening. As they ventured into the corridor, they found themselves encircled, the opposing group with weapons poised and ready. Above them, a helicopter circled the hospital. “Go, run!” the nurse shouted, her voice urgent, “I’ll hold them off.”

Without hesitation, Scarlett took Monica’s hand and swiftly led her back into the hospital. Monica stood frozen, absorbing the surreal turn of events. In the wake of the nurse’s return, blood-soaked and transformed, Scarlet’s disbelief was palpable. “A grey back,” she marveled, her gaze fixed on the nurse’s shifting form. As the nurse reverted to human form, Monica’s fear-ridden voice rang out, demanding answers. “What’s happening here?” she cried out.

“My name is Misty, and we’re running out of time. He won’t be able to hold them off for much longer,” the nurse, now identified as Misty, urgently stated. Peering through the door, she outlined their escape plan. “Our only way out is through that glass window. We have to move quickly before it’s too late.” Swiftly navigating the hallway, Misty led the way, with Monica and Scarlet closely following, aware that their escape hinged on each fleeting moment.
“Will he be alright?” Monica inquired anxiously, her gaze fixed on the valiant struggle Jones was putting up against the armed officers. “My brother? Yeah, he’ll be fine. We’ve faced tougher challenges than this,” Misty assured, her voice steady as she sprinted towards the glass window, shattering it with determination. Retrieving a car key from her pocket, she pressed a button, summoning a car that rapidly approached. The vehicle executed a swift U-turn, its door opening invitingly for Misty. “Come on, get in,” she urged, her voice trembling with fear. They swiftly boarded the car, locking the doors.

“3... 2... 1... you’re late,” Misty exclaimed as her brother leaped from the window and landed in the car. “Drive, Misty, drive,” he urged, his eyes fixed on her. Releasing the handbrake, Misty floored the accelerator, propelling the car forward and leaving a trail of smoke in their wake.

The echoing screech of tires reverberated through the streets as the black sedan raced around the corner, pursued relentlessly by a convoy of police cars, their sirens blaring urgently. Glancing at the rearview mirror, the sedan’s driver saw the flashing lights, the symbol of impending trouble. Pressing down hard on the gas pedal, they accelerated with the aim of outpacing the pursuing officers. With precision, the sedan navigated the narrow alleyway, narrowly avoiding the dumpsters that lined its path.

Taking a sharp right turn onto a bustling avenue, the driver honked their horn to clear a path through the pedestrians. The police cars maintained their pursuit, inching closer. Undeterred, the sedan’s driver swerved onto the sidewalk, causing pedestrians to scramble for safety. The police cars followed suit, their tires screeching as they mounted the curb in pursuit.

The sedan surged forward along the bustling street, a blur of motion as it weaved between vehicles, executing daring manoeuvres that left other drivers wide-eyed. It cut off cars, dodged obstacles, and swerved with calculated precision. Behind it, the pursuing police cars struggled to maintain pace, their drivers frantically communicating over their radios, urgently requesting backup.

The sedan’s driver executed nimble evasive actions, teasing the boundary between escape and capture. Just when it appeared that the sedan might successfully elude its pursuers, a police car surged forward, colliding forcefully with the sedan’s rear bumper. The impact sent the sedan into a frenzied fishtail, dangerously careening towards the path of a descending helicopter. Swift reflexes saved disaster as the sedan’s driver jerked the wheel to the right, narrowly averting the collision with the helicopter’s landing skids. However, the sedan’s fate was still uncertain, as it careened out of control and crashed into a storefront instead.

Amid the chaos, the driver hit the emergency brake, the screeching tires painting a frenetic symphony of tension. The car skidded and came to an abrupt halt just inches from the storefront’s shattered glass façade. As the dust settled, the scene transformed into a standstill of eerie quiet. The gravity of their predicament was palpable.

“We have you surrounded!” the voices of officers, armed to the hilt, rang out from all directions, creating an unyielding circle of enforcement. Jones’s voice suddenly broke through the tense air, laced with resignation and defiance. “Oh, f*** it,” he shouted, lifting his hands in reluctant surrender.