Free The E Utopia Project by Kudakwashe Muzira Page B

a
man as if her life depended on it.
    “The gunman must have a car
and we have to jump off before he overtakes the truck.”
    “Jump off,” Sara said, panting
more from adrenaline than from lack of oxygen.
    “Yes. We jump off on my
count.”
    “I’m scared.”
    “Sara, you can do it. If we
stay on the truck, we’ll run out of oxygen and fall. You let go of me on a
count of three.” He closed his eyes, feeling like he was about to faint from
asphyxiation. “You must land on your feet, facing the direction of the truck
and when you land you must run a few steps to reduce the force of the change in
momentum. Do you get me?”
    “Yes.”
    “What did I say?” he said breathlessly.
    “You said I should land on my
feet, facing the direction of the truck and I must run a few steps when I touch
the ground.”
    “Good. Try to jump as far
away from the truck as you can... one... two... three... jump!”
    Closing her eyes, Sara pushed
herself away from him and swerved in mid-air. She landed facing the direction
of the truck and the momentum made her run for three steps before she lost her balance
and tumbled. George jumped off the truck two seconds later. His head spinning,
he unslung his breathing machine and put it on. He breathed a few deep gasps
before he ran to her.
    “Are you alright, Sara?”
    “I think so,” she croaked,
panting.
    He took off his breathing
machine and extended it to her. “Put it on as fast as you can. We’ve got to
run!”
    He pulled her to her feet as
she put on the machine and dragged her into the woods. They sat behind the
trunk of a huge American beech. 
    A black car whizzed past them
at maximum speed.
    “I bet that’s our guy going
after the truck.”
    Sara breathed hungrily. The
oxygen from the breathing machine felt as sweet as honey in her lungs.
    “We’re going to have to share
the machine. It’s now my turn.”
    She took off the breathing
machine and he quickly put it on.
    “Let’s get going,” he said. “When
your friend finds out we jumped off the truck, he may call for reinforcements.”
    “Reinforcements? You make it
sound as if we’re in a war.”
    “What do you think this is, Sara?
Do you think this is a game?”
    “This must be a mistake.”
    “Mistake or no mistake, he
wants to eliminate you. Let’s get moving.” He sprang to his feet and walked
into the woods.
    “We must get in touch with
the police,” Sara said, following him.
    George took out his phone and
switched it off. “Do you have a phone, Sara?”
    “Yes.”
    “Switch it off. He might use
your phone to track you.”
    “But we need to call 911.”
    “We’ll not use our phones
before we know what we are up against.”
    Sara felt dizzy. The
adrenaline had increased her heartbeat and her need for oxygen.
    “It’s now your turn,” he
said, taking off the breathing machine.
    She swiftly put on the
machine and inhaled its delicious oxygen.
    “It’s my turn,” he said when
they had walked for over forty meters.
    She took off the breathing
machine and he yanked it away from her and put it on. He closed his eyes,
enjoying the oxygen.
    “What did you do to him?” he
asked, increasing his pace.
    “Who?” she said, panting as
she struggled to keep pace with him.
    “Who else? The man who wants
to kill you of course. Did you ditch him like you ditched me? This time it
seems you ditched the wrong guy.”
    “Ditched you?” Sara bawled.
“I didn’t know you were so fond of re-writing history.”
    “Did you get promoted, Sara?
You ditch guys when you get promoted. If I remember correctly, you ditched me
when you were promoted from Deputy Director to Director of GEMA. Why did you
ditch our gun-toting friend? Have you been promoted to the UN
Secretary-General?”
    “Shut up, you asshole.” The
word asshole echoed in Sara’s ears. The last time she used such language
was when she was in high school, talking to a boy who had grabbed her and tried
to kiss her without her consent.
    “Asshole?”