Africa (Complete)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The two soldiers spread out to cover multiple angles. They were now within fifteen feet from Kam. After all this effort, he had been caught again. Feelings of fear and hopelessness set in. He did as he was instructed and stood up, raising his hands slowly.

"Who are you?" one of the men asked, shining a flashlight in his face. This caused Kam to squint. He could see who he was speaking with, but he counted several figures, at least a dozen.

Kam immediately took notice of the man's accent. It was not one that he was expecting.

"My name is Kamaru," he said, now embracing his African roots.

"Where are you coming from? Why are you sneaking around at night?"

"My Jeep broke down a mile back. I didn't want to disturb you so I was trying to go around unnoticed."

Kam was surrounded, not by soldiers, but by a group of kids, about twenty in total. As they stepped out from the shadows and into the moonlight, Kam got a better look. They wore face paint and had an unusual way of dressing. They wore western clothes, but they were ripped up and draped off them like creatures from the lost lagoon. They seemed to range in age from 9 – 17. Their leader was the oldest — a chubby kid who was exuding confidence.

"Who are you?" the leader asked, aiming a gun at Kam's face.

"My name is Kam... Kamaru."

"Where are you from, Kamaru?"

"America."

"Are you a soldier?"

Kam looked at the kids, all staring back at him stoned faced. They did not appear to be affiliated with the prison camp, but perhaps they were — a last line of defense. The wrong answer could get him killed.

"No, not a solider," he said. "I'm on my own."

"A runaway slave?"

"I don't identify as a slave, but I was just in there doing some things I would rather not be doing, so call me what you want."

"My name is Tyler," the young man said, lowering his weapon. "I'm from Canada. Toronto."

"Who are you guys?"

"We are the Freedom Fighters of the World."

"The world is gone," Kam said, "you may want to rethink your name."

"Are you in need of help?" Tyler asked.

"I guess so. I'm sort of lost. I came here on a boat, was captured at sea, then taken to a camp a few miles back that way. I really have nowhere to go, no family, no friends... I mean, I have a girl, but I don't know where she is."

"We can help you."

"You will? Why would you... I mean, what's in it for you?"

"Strength in numbers. There is about twenty of us, but in order for us to do more good in the world, our tribe needs to be bigger, much bigger. You look scrappy, and you have an honest face."

"He looks dirty, and you don't want to know what I think of his face," one of the girls said.

"I know where you can get another four-hundred members," Kam said, turning and looking at the road behind him. "Just up ahead is a prison camp with roughly four-hundred slaves. Can you help me free them?"

"We can help you," Tyler said.

"There are just twenty of you," Kam replied.

"Twenty-one," Tyler said, extending his hand.