It was midnight. From the hill on which our cottage stood, I saw the eyes of an incoming bus dilate with delight as it peeped through the fog that had pinned itself to the wet, virgin forest.

Everything around the cottage had taken on the the greyish look of the moon stuck against the indomitable sky.

As the approaching bus bumped and thumbed the potholes on the road, I listened carefully to see if I could make sense of the driver’s carelessness.

When the bus finally made its turn around the cottage into a nearby village, I saw the correlation between the size of the bus and the driver’s wisdom- rickety and smallish.

I climbed down from the roof, took a little lamp and sneaked out of the cottage. I had an agenda in mind- it must be carried out tonight to the last detail or bust.

A few twists and turns in the woods and I found myself on the main road leading to town. I walked for so long that when I finally got to the centre of the town where I was to meet the blacksmith, I still felt my legs moving even though I sat down.

It was drizzling. I glanced around. In a dark narrow lane stood two lovers, umbrella overhead – repelling both rain and observers’ inquisitiveness.

I gave the signal and waited…

* * * * * * * * * * *

Crucified against the couch, the blacksmith puffed on his cigar. Upon hearing the signal from the town centre, he glanced at his watch. It meant in exactly twenty minutes, the other men would be through with the first part of their plan and would be joining him. He puffed on his cigar again, shutting his eyes for a while and allowing the inhaled smoke to pepper the frustrations bottled within him. Slowly, he released it all into the air, staring at the smoke as it ascended.

It was an unusually quiet night. He listened to the silence which was occasionally broken by the splashing of water against the rocks below his storey building. A song that was very popular during his childhood days would not stop singing in his head. It made him tearful as it brought back memories of the good old days.

Suddenly, a little stone flew past his open window, hit the ceiling and fell into a bowl half buried under a sofa in his room. The men had arrived.

He rose to his feet, made the sign of the cross and let down the ropes through the window to join the men below on the rocks.

* * * * * * * * *

The river contemplated whether or not to sink us and its dilemma had a telling effect on our boat’s steadiness. Despite the turbulence, everyone in the boat trained their eyes on the hill ahead, no one saying a word to the other.

Slowly, the distant hill zoomed in, heightening the tension on the boat. The moon hid behind a cloud, unable to watch what was about to happen.

Soon, the boat stopped moving and only feet could be heard wading in water. Following each other closely in the darkness, we made our way to the mouth of the cave. The blacksmith led the rest of the men into the cave while I stood at the entrance.

Out of no where, nocturnal birds started chirping wildly and stopped abruptly after some seconds, as if to usher in the dark figure that now approached me some distance away. It initially looked like a giant dark ball with a pair of red, evil eyes.

The moving shadow got smaller with each step. For a while it seemed to have disappeared, forgetting to take along its footsteps. Slowing, footsteps became a headless body. Now its head caught up with its body while its face was still masked in darkness.

And darkness played games with my mind- switching faces on that neck: a bull’s head, then a chicken’s head, then a baby’s face, then a reptile….I wondered if it was a puzzle of the genesis of mankind that played before me.

Even the moon was curious to see the true face of this looming doom. Moving clouds uncovered the moon slightly and covered it back. And in that flash of moonlight, the dark figure shot itself from the distance and now stood in front of me in the form of a naked woman with a pistol to my forehead.

Priest Wilo had prophesied that Amba Talia would visit me. I just didn’t know she was going to come in this form. Looking around her body and finding the green beads she wore on her hips, I grabbed the beads with my teeth and tore them with all the courage I could muster.

Weakened by the breaking of her beads, she fell on me. I pushed her aside just in time to meet our men that were now coming out of the cave with the treasure that had been transported there by the mini van. We hurried back to the river. If the moon came out of its hiding, Amba Talia would regain her consciousness and we wouldn’t be dead men alive, but dead men dead.

At the river, we dipped the tip of our guns into the water and fired seven times into the air before crossing, just like Priest Wilo had instructed. Never had we ran for such a long time through bushes, rivers, mountains and valleys, narrowly missing gunshots from night hunters mistaking us for wild animals.

By 4am we reached the outskirts of the town where the masterminds of the mission were waiting. We were filled with tears of joy that we made it before the reappearance of the moon.

The treasure was divided up and each man took his share and for the safety of everyone, we were never to see one another again for life…

THE END.