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Part 11.

Chapter 4.

Focusing on looks alone, despite the saying that beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder, everyone would agree that Ian would rank top in the gang. Perhaps if he had walked a different path after running away from home and pursued acting, he alone without the movie would have made the country popular by simply existing, but sadly, he had other goals.

His looks had somewhat gotten her attention the night they had first met when she had been straddling Bekho's back, and her youthful heart might have leaned in his direction, the same way any person would acknowledge and desire a beautiful piece of art. After all, her heart didn't have anyone in particular, who is to say they wouldn't look good together.

However now, with her feet cuffed on the train track, waiting to be chopped off when the train comes by, she realised just how malicious this person was.

This terminal had been inactive for many years, left to rot and closed off from the public in the meantime, but the place had only attracted local gangs to fight for the territory. A few years back, the gang that had taken control over the place was led by a young man known by the name Moshi, who with his guys, disguised as graffiti artists, had transformed the place into something quite eye-catching. All the abandoned trains despite being old were an explosion of colour, beautiful every day you looked. This might have been but a disguise to hide their dealings, but they were really good at it nonetheless.

When Bekho and Ian were still but street urchins who only looked forward to surviving another day alive and unscathed, they had happened to stumble upon this place. Ian was always a forward driven person and had ignored the fact that the territory was marked, dragging Bekho along with him. The two of them being together was rare, let alone rooming around, but this day, they just happened to be. Even more, it looked like Bekho being part of his group was starting to rub off on Ian, so they were on good terms.

Who knew that they would be captured, and only Bekho was able to fight his way through. From a young age, his body had always looked so delicate at a glance, so being malnourished then he had looked even weaker, as if he would fall if pushed, and thus they had underestimated him. Those left to guard him had teased him, only for them to be left groaning on the floor in pain, and he had escaped, leaving Ian behind. He didn't come back for him either.

Ian wasn't so lucky. When the other escaped, his feet were tied the same way Nyota's were at the moment. Not all the train cars were useless, some could still move. He had begged to be let go as they watched, but they had found his pain amusing and entertaining to watch. Those watching from the highway wouldn't make up what exactly was going on or even hear his cries for help no matter how much he yelled. Not to mention, the area was abandoned and restricted.

In the end, when he realised there was no use in crying, he had relied on his own strength to free himself. As everyone watched, just as the train car approached, his feet slid off the cuffs, gnashing and cutting through his skin. Blood was oozing from his ankles as he rolled away just in time, but the boy, as he turned to limp away, had shot them a glance filled with boiling fury.

No one had thought much about it just then, they had laughed, satisfied with the little show, who knew that they had made an enemy of themselves who would later seek vengeance.

That would explain why now, Moshi who stood with his group watching as Ian did the same thing to Wema had his hand chopped off at the wrist, and was also limping, a permanent condition it seemed. He wasn't a boy anymore, no one dared stop him from walking in and out of this place whenever he felt like it.