The Truth that wasn't there

Sixteen

Ears ringing as the rain poured down on her, Owondiki opened her eyes. All the security lamps around the perimeter, even the ones placed on the edge of the valley, had been knocked off, flung off their places, or hit by the shock of the bomb. She crawled to the wall of the building, moving as slowly as the pain in her head, in her body would let her, because she had to move fast.

In the wake of the catastrophe, the rain poured, as if desperate to wash away the disaster that the clans had struck. Jera was gone. Dead. Bombed by the cowardly clans because even they knew they'd never stand a chance against Jera. They'd tried in the past and lost.

And she'd broadcasted her position for the whole world to see.

Wiping sweat and tears and rain from her face, Owondiki got to her feet, using the wall, turning around in time to see the devastated huts, splattered outwards with the impact of the bomb from the fountain spreading and reducing the further away from the cavern it went.

Owondiki was only lucky to have been on the edge of the valley. She was lucky to have been engrossed in Jonathan Mbeteli's diary.

Wincing as she gasped, she remembered that she'd left the diary in the rain, by the tree trunk. Moving as fast as she could, she went back into the house, only to find the diary drenched in water. She knelt by it and picked it up, but there was no need. All that was in the book were the first few pages that she'd already read. Everything beyond the page that had hidden the newspaper was blank.

There'd been nothing beyond the pages she'd already seen.

Jonathan had delivered his message and had nothing more to say. The diary she'd been so eager to get a hold of had nothing but a few pages of notes that promised so much but offered no actual answers to her questions.

Collapsing on the floor, Owondiki didn't know what to do, how to compute what she'd just witnessed. She needed a moment. If Jera was there, she'd know what to do. She'd save Owondiki. She'd tell her what to do. She'd fight for Owondiki. She'd get in the way of danger and make sure that nothing happened to Owondiki.

But she wasn't there anymore.

"Ahh," she cried, clenching her fist against her chest. It hurt. Everything hurt. Jera was supposed to be there till the end.

Soon, the clans were going to converge on the valley.

If they weren't already headed there.

As the thought entered her mind, it occurred to her that they were coming to verify the kill. But in doing so, they were going to raid the place, go from door to door, making sure that every single last one of Jera's followers was gone. Dead. Buried in the wake of Boboyile's destruction.

More than that, they were going to find Jera's home. Jonathan Mbeteli's home. The same house with all the files. The files had every bit of information predicting the troubles of the clans. With that kind of information, they were going to be able to anticipate their enemies and what little liberation Jera had garnered would be for nothing. Because the clans would see them coming.

Getting to her feet, Owondiki fought the pain and ringing. There was no place for it. No place for rest. Not yet. Not until she was done. Because if she was so important, if she was going to help the cause of the common people, if she was going to continue this work, then it had to start in that house, at that moment. When no one else was present to do it.

___

With three large boxes, Owondiki raided Jera's room shelf. Whatever order they'd been put in would be an issue for another day. At the moment, she was more interested in getting every single file to fit in as she pressed the boxes down, zipping them before clipping the straps over them.

Quickly, she pulled the first two into the rain, tripping over wet sand and stones in the ground. She could feel the pinch of a bruise, but she didn't stop. She went back for the last box and found the keys to Jera's Jeep on the desk in her room. After putting the boxes in, she returned to get the small bag which she'd forced all eleven diaries of Jonathan Mbeteli into.

With her heart pounding like never before, she got into the driver's seat, started the car, and reversed right out of the lane and into the main road that led out of the valley.

Of the things you will do, this is only the beginning, Mbeteli wrote in his diary. Only the beginning. Of what? Owondiki didn't have much of an idea. She'd barely scratched the surface of the newspapers. Even then, given her experience, the clans didn't always tell the truth, and the news agencies didn't always know the truth or report the truth.

Either way, keeping the papers out of the wrong hands was a task she was going to do everything in her power to fulfill. Making a silent vow, she knew she'd rather set fire to them all before she let the clans get a hold of them.

Ten minutes later, just as she was turning out of Boboyile, driving off into the rainy night, she heard the first sirens of Clans Authority, as they came speeding down the road. They were headed to the valley. They were going to stand on the remains of rebels and claim victory.

Loudly. Wrongly. Very much like the clans.

Owondiki's path was a silent one. A secret one.

As she watched them drive past her, she let her tears come, once again.

"Don't worry, Jera," Owondiki said, seeing her future clear as day. "I've got this."