Ngenhliziyo

⛓Safe House⛓

The chaos still hung heavy in the night air as Lulu moved with a sharp, cold clarity she didn't even know she had. Her second thought after getting rid of the police was simple: They have to get out of here, they have to go somewhere safe.

Her father had taught her about the family safehouses years ago, always making sure they all knew where to go if things ever went south. Usually, this responsibility would fall to Bafana — the big brother, the protector after uBhekinkosi. But Bafana had been transported away by the ambulance alongside his father.

Now it was up to her.

Lulu moved quickly, finding Mandla, the squad's quiet strategist, already thinking the same thing. They were lucky he was here — Mandla knew the safehouses, the routes, how to disappear without a trace. Without a word, the two of them headed for the garage.

A line of cars waited, sleek, flashy, far too noticeable and far too modern and most definitely easily trackable. They needed something no one would think twice about.
Mandla spotted it first: the old white Quantum GL, dusty but reliable. A reminder of a life Bheki once lived.

Before anything else, Mandla shuffled around for a plastic bag from the shelves and he finally found a black one, turning to the family gathered shakily by the garage entrance. His voice was steady but urgent.

Mandla: (Firmly) Lalelani ke....ngicela nonke nifake konke okungama electronics kulo plastiki ifoni amawashi....konke la phakathi.

One by one, MaDlamini, Msizi, Sphiwo, Lulu, and even Mandla himself dropped their devices into the bag.

 Lulu hesitated for half a second. 

Mandla: Lulu...

 She hesitantly pulled her phone out of her pocket and let it fall in with a soft clatter while still holding eye contact with Mandla. tied the bag tightly and shoved it into a storage cupboard near the back.

Mandla: No tracking. No mistakes.

They piled into the Quantum: Mandla behind the wheel, Lulu next to him, the others got into the back. Msizi wrapped an arm protectively around MaDlamini, who was shaking with sobs, her face pressed against her son's shoulder. She had gone through too much tonight — a husband and a son both shot within hours. The pain in the car was thick, almost suffocating.

Mandla started the engine. The Quantum rumbled to life, and they pulled away from the house, leaving behind bloodstains and shot up home.

As they drove through the dark streets, the radio buzzed softly, crackling to life with a news report.

"Breaking news tonight: a violent shooting has taken place at the residence of a known allegedly gang-affiliated family in Umhlanga . Reports indicate multiple casualties and at least two critical injuries. Police have yet to release the names of the injuried victims. Authorities are urging residents to stay clear of the area as investigations continue."

Nobody spoke. Lulu stared out the window, her mind racing with fear, anger, and something harder — determination.

They drove for what felt like forever, taking back streets, cutting through alleyways, dodging cameras. Mandla was careful, always aware, always one step ahead.

Finally, they pulled up to an old, nondescript house surrounded by overgrown hedges and a sagging fence. The place looked abandoned — exactly what it was supposed to look like.

Mandla cut the engine only the sound of his belt clicking made a noise as he turned to the others.

Mandla: (Ina soft tone) Ngilindeni lana 

The night was pitch-black, and without their phones, he had no light. He moved cautiously through the backyard, feeling his way to the old pot plant where the key was hidden. His fingers fumbled through the soil, brushing against dry roots and broken twigs. It took a few heart-stopping moments before he finally found the cold, small metal key buried deep beneath.

He hurried back to the car, the family waiting silently in the dark. he slid the door open and led the family out of the car and to the door. He unlocked it, pushed it open, and waved them inside.

The house was dark and musty, shadows stretching long across the floors. But it was safe.

Mandla knew what he had to do next. He disappeared into the garage, flipping up the main switch hidden behind an old storage cabinet. A soft hum filled the house as the power surged back on, lights flickering to life one by one. Security systems whirred and clicked into place.

Next, Mandla moved to the small office tucked away behind the living room. One by one, he called them in — Lulu first, then MaDlamini, Msizi and Sphiwo — to register their biometrics into the system. A scan of the hand, a picture, and a retinal scan. Now the house would recognize them, and only them, each time they left or entered.

While Mandla worked, Lulu and Sphiwo gently led MaDlamini into one of the bedrooms. They tucked her into the bed, covering her with thick blankets, though she couldn't seem to stop trembling. Her hands clutched at the fabric like it was the only thing anchoring her to the world.

Sphiwo sat on a chair by her bedside, tears sliding down her cheeks.

Sphiwo: (Sniffing) Iphutha lami lonke leli ma....ukube ngimlalelile uBafana ngeskathi engtshela ukuthi ngihambe ngabe ayenzekanga yonke lento kuye.

MaDlamini's voice, though cracked and weary, was firm as she looked over to Sphiwo and they held hands.

MaDlamini: Yazi....umakukhona into engake ngamfundisa yona uBafana....uktuhi kmele ahlezi avikele abantu abathandayo ngaso sonek iskathi....futhi ngiyazi ukuthi uBafana ukthanda kangakanani enganikela ngeyakhe impilo uqobo ukuze asindise eyakho noThimna......okusho ukuthi uBafana ebenza into engamfundisa yona....kphela ngani yami.

Msizi soon came into the room, carrying a steaming cup of chamomile tea in both hands. He sat beside the bed and held it out to his mother and Sphiwo who accepted it with trembling fingers. He sat close, rubbing her shoulder in comfort whispering quiet reassurances only she could hear.

Before settling in himself, Mandla moved through the house with quiet footsteps, checking each room like a sentry on patrol. He stopped first at MaDlamini's door, peeking inside. She was finally asleep, her chest rising and falling slowly, Msizi curled up  besides her like a little boy with his mom. Sphiwo had fallen asleep too in another room with Lulu next to her in the same bed like two sisters.

He checked the front and back doors for red flashing lights indicating the security system is armed, double-checked the garage, and making sure the security system was armed there as well. The house was locked down tight.

Finally, he found an empty guest room at the end of the hall ,he closed the door behind him, locking it out of habit.

Slowly, he peeled off his clothes, dropping his jeans and T-shirt to the floor until he was left in just his boxers and a white vest. The air was cool against his skin, but he welcomed it.

He climbed into the bed, the mattress slightly groaning under his weight. He stretched out, laying on his back, slipping his right arm under his head for support.

Mandla stared up at the ceiling, the silence of the safehouse pressing down around him. He took a deep breath in through his nose, filling his lungs until they ached... and then he let it out through his mouth.

The night was still. The house was still. For now, the people he cared about were safe.

His eyes remained open, watching the cracks on the ceiling, his mind refusing to rest even though his body begged for sleep but eventually his eyes also slipped closed, and he dozed off.

Tomorrow would come.And they would be ready for it.