Spirit King: Return of the Crown

by Dashiel Douglas

  D’Melo doubled over with laughter.

  “Oh, my God! You’re such a jerk!”

  They crossed the demolished rondeval toward Kavu. Zara checked, just to be sure, “So you don’t really have X-ray vision, do you?”

  “You’ll never know,” D’Melo said with a devilish grin.

  “I hate you.”

  Kavu stiffened as D’Melo approached. He readied himself for D’Melo to finish him. “Just make it quick,” he said, defeated.

  D’Melo and Zara sauntered past, paying him no mind other than a pitying clap on the shoulder.

  As Kavu watched them stroll away toward the summit, he reflected on what had just happened. He thought back to the time he fell off his horse and Milpisi saved his life. He never thought much about it, but in this moment of desperation he realized that the nectar’s healing power didn’t work when the unnatural chemicals were nearby. Can unnatural elements be its Achilles heel? he thought.

  Kavu seized the tranquilizer gun from his belt.

  D’Melo’s eyes began to radiate again, signaling danger. He spun around to see Kavu leveling the gun at him.

  “You should have killed me when you had the chance,” Kavu spat. He fired the tranquilizer dart. D’Melo lifted his hand to redirect it, but it continued unabated. The dart pierced his chest. He immediately became woozy. His legs leaden, he dropped to his knees.

  “D’Melo!” Zara screeched. “What’s happening?”

  D’Melo removed the dart, his eyes already heavy. “The dart. It’s plastic,” he slurred. “I couldn’t communicate with it.”

  Panic threatening to smother her, Zara instinctively smeared mud over D’Melo’s body. “Oh please, let the earth’s natural elements revive him,” she implored the Great Spirit.

  D’Melo felt the energy begin to percolate within him. He teetered to a standing position. Kavu quickly reloaded and fired another dart. D’Melo’s body crumbled, splashing back into the sodden soil.

  Kavu slapped his soldiers conscious. “Get up!” he shouted. “Kill the girl and bring D’Melo to me.” They tried to shake their heads clear, then started firing wildly.

  Zara crouched down as low as she could. Bullets hissed by.

  “Run, Zara,” D’Melo exhorted.

  “I didn’t come back here to leave you!” Zara scooped her hands under his arms. She dragged him, bullets narrowly missing. But with each step, the slick earth bested her.

  “Zara, stop,” D’Melo pleaded, his eyelids fluttering. “There’s nothing you can do for me. You have to go! Tell the world what’s happening here,” he said, his voice tailing off. “You can still take down Dimka.”

  Zara buried her face in her hands, inconsolable. Suddenly, she clutched her shoulder. Watery blood seeped between her fingers where a bullet grazed her. The soldiers were now only a couple hundred feet away.

  She placed a fretful hand on D’Melo’s cheek. “I’ll be back for you.”

  Zara sprinted for the forest. Bullets hummed past, clipping branches in front of her. She leapt into the thick undergrowth, clambered up a tree, and perched on a high branch. She gripped the trunk for balance, her shoulder throbbing burningly.

  The soldiers prowled beneath her. “She couldn’t have gotten far.” Their flashlights probed the dark woodland. Just as they were about to head off, Zara felt a trickle down her arm. In a flash, she realized she had been here before. It was the dream she recounted to the Seer, Ms. Keba. Ms. Keba’s seemingly incoherent response at the time rushed alarmingly to mind.

  “The blood!” Ms. Keba had ranted. “Don’t let it drop!”

  No! No! Zara reached to cup the blood running down her elbow before it dripped, but was too late. A droplet hurtled down and splattered on the lens of one of the flashlights. The soldier swung his light upward. Zara stiffened, making herself as small as possible. The beam climbed searchingly up the trunk. As it neared Zara’s hands, she released her grip. She tottered, then balanced herself. The light halted on the trunk where she stood. She breathed evenly to calm her nerves and fluttering legs. The light continued mercifully upward. A relieved breath seeped from her tense lips.

  The soldier examined the lens just as another scarlet drop splattered on it. He then realized his nose was bleeding, apparently from the blow he endured from the waterball. The soldiers went deeper into the forest to search for Zara but soon returned, again passing under the tree in which Zara was hiding.

  When they were gone, Zara slinked down and positioned herself at the forest edge. She cleared wiry branches from her line of sight.

  The soldiers returned to Kavu. “You lost her?” he barked. “You idiots! If she gets to Nanjier, she’ll tell everyone what happened here. Go find her!”

  Kavu hoisted D’Melo over his shoulder and trudged toward Malunga. Zara trailed, navigating the dense brush. The drubbing downpour and thundering sky drowned out the noises made by her untrained feet. After nearly an hour, Kavu emerged from the jungle to a clearing just inside the Malungan border.

  A boxy compound stood in ominous contrast to the tranquil natural environment surrounding it. Formidable wooden pillars, linked with webbed wire fencing, enclosed the overgrown cage. Four guard towers topped the pillars. From the towers, aggressive floodlights illumined the grounds, sliding mechanically to and fro. The only guard-controlled floodlight settled on Kavu as he approached the gate. Guards in the west and south towers targeted their rifles at him. Kavu waved a hand nonchalantly. The gate swung open.

  Zara surveyed the compound from the jungle. Two decrepit L-shaped cement block structures faced each other in the center. Farthest from the gate, on the east side, there was a horse stable. Soldiers attired in distinguished military fatigues and maroon berets led horses from the paddock into the stable. To the south was the grandest and most modern of the buildings. It appeared to have been modeled after the heavily fortified castles of medieval times. At each corner of the edifice, a cylindrical tower rose above the tan block walls. Above its cone-shaped roof, the Malungan flag flapped sluggishly in the soaking rain.

  Zara’s mind harkened back to Wilem’s interview. That must be the prison that Pharma was bragging about building.

  Kavu hauled D’Melo into the vacant fortress prison. Moments later, a light went on in a window on the west wall. Okay, at least I know where he is. But how do I get him out before they find the boyz? Think Zara! she urged herself, daunted by what she was up against.

  Her searching eyes halted at a temporary construction shed not far from the lighted window. She scrutinized the compound, trying to devise a way in. Squinting upward through the driving rain, she concluded fearfully that scaling the twenty-foot-high fence was her only chance.

  Zara studied the roaming floodlights crisscrossing along the ground and fencing. She observed momentary blind spots, but they didn’t follow any discernible pattern.

  I can make it. She tried to convince herself. I have to make it.

  She steeled nerves, then scurried clandestinely out of the jungle to the fence. She peered to the top, which suddenly seemed a lot higher than she had estimated. Her pulse raced as she grasped the metal links, slick from rain. She climbed quickly, stopping just below a passing floodlight.

  “Okay,” she groaned, her shoulder pulsing with pain. “You’re halfway.” She proceeded, scrambling to beat the next light. It passed beneath her, as she mounted the top. She flipped one leg over, then the other. As she tried to secure her foot, it slipped from the links. The sudden jolt of weight made her lose her grip on the rail. Her body swung and slammed against the fence with a resounding rattle. Clinging desperately with one hand, she spied wide-eyed for any movement in the nearest guard booth. There was none. She was once again saved by the hammering storm.

  But her relief was fleeting. A floodlight slid along the fence toward her. She scrambled to secure her footing, then started down frantically. A force tugged
against her. Her T-shirt was snagged in the jagged ties atop the fence. The light was now within a few feet. Wild with fear, she looked at the long drop to the ground.

  Just as the light was about to reveal her, she let go and yanked her shirt, tearing it from the fence. She careened to the soaked earth, biting back a scream. Landing with an emphatic thud, it felt like an electric shock was zapping every nerve. But there was no time to register the pain arcing through her body, as another floodlight moved in her direction. She staggered to her feet and hobbled to the shed. She cracked open the rickety door and slipped in. Passing floodlights flashed between the wood panels. It wasn’t ideal, but it was enough for her to spot what she needed—two buckets and a brick.

  On the cold concrete floor, D’Melo teetered on the edge of consciousness. He focused on the sound of the rain battering the window to keep his mind awake.

  A soldier bumped clumsily into the room carrying plastic drop cloths. Kavu ordered him to tape the cloths along the walls and ceiling. The soldier was bewildered by the order. “Just do it!” Kavu barked.

  D’Melo felt his senses starting to stir. He peeked through quivering eyelids at the soldier hanging the plastic.

  “The tranquilizer is wearing off!” the soldier gulped, backpedaling.

  “Don’t worry,” Kavu reassured him confidently. “He’s as harmless as a baby in here.”

  A burly man decked in military fatigues stalked in. An abundance of shiny medals clanked on his chest.

  Kavu straightened and saluted, “General.”

  General Nyoko browsed the room. “What’s happening here?” he queried in his low raspy voice.

  “Sir, when D’Melo swallowed the seeds from the Tree he obtained extraordinary powers,” Kavu explained. “But I’ve discovered that his abilities are neutralized by unnatural elements, like plastic.”

  “Good work, Kavu.” Nyoko stomped over to D’Melo.

  Nyoko blurred in and out of D’Melo’s vision. Nyoko slapped him. “Wake up!” D’Melo’s eyes darted around, then finally settled on the General. “I’ve waited long enough,” Nyoko said gruffly. “Where are your friends?”

  D’Melo was groggy, but alert enough to revel in Nyoko not having yet found the boyz. He gazed wearily at the general and said nothing.

  Nyoko thrashed D’Melo’s face with the bottom of his heavy boot. Blood splattered from the congealed cut on his lip. He shook it off, then stared obstinately at Nyoko.

  “So you’re a tough guy, huh? Just like your brother here.” Nyoko gestured toward Kavu. “Okay, have it your way. But it’s only a matter of time. Before long we’ll win the battle and wipe those Kipaji cockroaches off the face of the earth. How long do you think your friends will be able to hide after that? All that will remain to make Malunga the most powerful country in the world is slicing you open.”

  Kavu scuttled to join Nyoko on his way to the door. “Sir, you’re not serious about killing all the Kipajis, are you? The mission was only to get the package and the nectar.”

  “Are you getting soft for your fellow Kipajis?” Nyoko said, clutching Kavu’s shoulder. “They abandoned you, remember? They discarded you like they would a piece of rubbish. So you should be happy to rid the world of those filthy insects.”

  “No sir. I’m not concerned about them.” Kavu paused pensively. “It’s—it’s just that, another genocide would bring a lot of international heat on us.”

  A sinister smile crept onto Nyoko’s face. “Kipajis have reserved the healing nectar for their own people, while Malungans and everyone else have suffered. To do this, Kipaji had to keep itself a secret, completely isolated. So in the eyes of the world, it’s just another worthless region of Malunga. Do you see the irony?” he said with an ugly laugh. “With the hands of selfishness, Kipaji has constructed its own coffin. But even if anyone took notice, like that cockroach-loving Kyle Sandersen, we’ll just say the Kipajis were killed in another Shuja uprising.” Nyoko mused, “We’re Africans; the world won’t lose a minute’s sleep over fifty thousand of us dying. They never do.”

  “That’s brilliant, sir,” Kavu muttered, with a hint of melancholy in his voice. “But why wasn’t I informed?”

  “Soldier,” Nyoko scowled, irked by being questioned. “You were told the part of the plan that we needed you for.”

  “Yes, sir!” Kavu shot, stiffening. “I understand, sir.”

  “Door!” Nyoko bellowed to the guards positioned outside the cell. “I’ll return with the doctor when we’ve recovered the package.”

  D’Melo squinted up at Kavu. “You’re not a monster like he is, you know.” Dark red dripped from his mouth. “I’ve seen who you really are. I don’t think it was all an act.”

  Kavu remained silent, his gaze falling to the floor.

  Sensing an opening, D’Melo pressed on. “I know you don’t want harmless Kipajis to be slaughtered. Think about the children. They’ve done nothing to deserve to die like that. They’re just like we were—innocent, playing in the wildflower field. Don’t you even care?”

  “Of course, I care!” Kavu snapped. “But I’m a soldier. This is all I know. It’s all I have.”

  “That’s not true. You’re a whole lot more than a soldier. You’re a human being.” D’Melo demanded, “Look at me.”

  Kavu glanced up momentarily, then lowered his eyes again.

  “You can put an end to this craziness. All you have to do is let me out of here.”

  Kavu took a wistful breath. “I’m going to be the president one day. Then I can do whatever I want. I’ll make things right, my way.”

  “How can you make a genocide right!” D’Melo pleaded. “There’s already been one in this country, are you going to let—”

  “Listen,” Kavu shouted. “I can’t help you! Stop talking to me!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Rise!

  Soaked and shivering, the boyz squatted in the ferny vegetation along the Hasira River, waiting for the signal from Chipo. They had become numb to the seemingly endless explosions. The jarring sounds were now almost as natural as the croaking of the tree frogs or screeching of the colobus monkeys.

  They spied six border guards keeping vigilant watch on the bridge. Clearly, the guards were put on high alert. Concrete barriers had been positioned just before the patrol booth and floodlights were sweeping the bridge and river.

  “There’s no way we’re getting over that bridge without Chipo. Where is she?” Marley whined. “It’s been like two hours! I’m freezing.”

  “Cool out, dawg. If you haven’t noticed, there’s some crazy stuff happening,” Jeylan reasoned. “Maybe she wasn’t expecting a war in Kipaji. She’s probably rounding up extra troops in case something kicks off on the Nanjier side.”

  Kazim piped, “Or maybe she had to do her nails.”

  “Man, why you gotta be all sexist!” Marley chided.

  “Really?” Kazim retorted. “That’s your biggest concern right now? Whether I’m politically correct?”

  “Hey, shh.” Jeylan tugged them down. A floodlight lingered over them. “We can’t stay here forever,” he said, angst tinging his voice.

  “Well, we don’t exactly have anywhere else to go,” Kazim pointed out. “Do you want to head back over the mountain and get your butt ripped off by one of those explosions?”

  “Where’s D’Melo and Zara?” Marley fretted through chattering teeth. “They should have been here a long time ago.”

  “I don’t know, man,” Jeylan sighed. “But I’m sure they’re okay.”

  “Chipo ain’t coming,” Kazim grumbled. “She left us for dead. I knew this plan wasn’t gonna work!”

  “Quit your groanin’, dawg,” Jeylan said. “She’ll be here.”

  “Hey!” Marley’s quivering finger pointed toward Nanjier. “What’s that?” Tiny sparks were followed by popping sounds.

 
“That’s gotta be Chipo!” Jeylan said. The boyz craned their necks for a better view. “There’s the signal, the waving light! I told y’all she’d come. Let’s go.”

  They hurriedly crossed the bridge. The patrol booth was pocked with bullet strikes. As they stepped around the lifeless border guards, Chipo appeared under a bridge light.

  “Ah man,” Kazim said. “I told these guys you’d be here. I knew you’d never leave us.” Jeylan and Marley glanced incredulously at each other.

  “We should get you out of this rain,” Chipo said. “Your flight isn’t until six, so we still have some time.”

  Jeylan surveyed the area. “Where are all the rebels who smoked these guards?”

  “Ahhh,” Chipo said. “They did their job. I sent them back to the command post.”

  Chipo headed toward the paltry border security office. The boyz stretched their hoods over their faces to block the stinging rain. They shook off as they entered the meagerly decorated building—four flimsy plastic chairs, a fake plant in the corner, and a framed photo of President Okoye hanging crookedly on the drab gray wall. Chipo gestured for them to have a seat.

  “I’m going to warm up with tea,” she said. “Would you like a cup?” The boyz crumpled their faces, Who drinks tea? Chipo’s expression sobered before ducking into the main office in the rear of the building.

  Hushed voices murmured from the office. Jeylan shushed Marley and Kazim. “Do you hear that? Who’s she talking to?”

  The boyz jerked from the sound of a violent thud. Chipo returned, the skin beneath her eye reddish.

  “Hey,” Jeylan asked, concerned. “What happened to you?”

  She pointed to her muddy boots. “I slipped on the floor and knocked my head.”

  “But where’s your tea?”

  “Oh,” Chipo looked at her hands. “There was none left.”

  Jeylan rose. “Alright, let’s bounce.”

  “Okay. Okay,” Chipo said, flustered. “But first let me use the bathroom.”