Africa (Complete)

Chapter Twenty-Three

It had been so long since his capture that Kam had lost track of time. He estimated it had been close to a year. Throughout his time at the slave camp and despite what he had gone through, what he had seen, he had not given up his plans of escaping. 

By now, his hands and feet were calloused, his hair had grown out and become twisted into dreadlocks, and he had a sizable beard that he would powder with dirt as a way of absorbing the grease.

He had been on the receiving end of several beatings for not working fast enough, looking in the wrong direction, for speaking to the other slaves, for talking back, and for coming to the defense of others. He had also witnessed his fair share of stuff that he wish he hadn't.

During his time at the enslavement camp, Kam had spoken with as many people as possible. He wanted to know about their skills and commitment to escaping. He met a martial arts instructor from Australia, a nurse from Ireland, and a mechanic from Texas. The one important skill that Seb, the Texan, possessed was the ability to pick locks. The only problem was finding the right tools. There was no furniture, no electronics, no belts, and no jewellry. Finding two small metal objects to pick a lock would be a challenge. Kam put the word out for everybody to keep their eyes open for something they could use.

At lunch, a man approached Kam. He sat next to him, but kept his head down as to not draw attention to the conversation. "I've been giving it some thought," the man whispered. "I think I know where you can get the tools you need to pick a lock."

The man looked up and made brief eye contact with Kam. "About three years ago, I was riding my motorcycle in the rain. The roads were slick and visibility was poor. I was coming around a turn not too far from my house, and a mail truck clipped the back of my bike and sent me flying. I landed some fifteen feet away from my bike and was otherwise unscathed. I would have been fine had it not been for the truck heading in the other direction. It couldn't stop in time and ran over my leg."

Kam kept his head down, focusing on his food, but following the man's story. It wasn't obvious where it was going.

"Broke my femur," the man continued. "It shattered in six places. I was rushed to the hospital and was provided with emergency surgery. You know what they used to put my leg back together?"

Kam looked up at the man, but didn't say anything.

"They used long metal pins," the man said with a straight face. The implication was lost on Kam.

"What good are they to me if they are in your leg?" Kam asked.

"You're going to take them out," the man replied.

"How?"

"I'm exhausted, beaten down, passed the point in which I can endure, but most importantly, I have lost hope. This is not a world worth living for me, especially in our condition. The planet is heating up and soon it will become inhospitable. I have lost my wife, my kids, lord knows if I even have any living relatives. Why endure years of torture if this is all we have to live for? Inside this camp or outside, this is not a life I want to live."

"What are you saying?" Kam asked.

"Today after lunch, I'm going to cause a scene that will get me killed. When they do that, they will have you drag my body to the pigs. All you have to do is sneak out at night, find the bone with the pins, and bring it back."

It was such a crazy idea that Kam wasn't sure how to respond. "I don't get it, you sacrifice yourself for me?"

"If I go out, I want to go out a hero. If I can help you and others escape, then there is honour in that."