7th Episode
Nuckaya peered under the hood as the old man slid into the driver’s seat.
The Hilux had no doors — just a rusted-out shell of what it once was. The only thing still resembling a “door” was the hood itself.
“You sure this’ll work?” Nuckaya asked, skeptical.
The mechanic spat, laughing through betel-stained teeth.
“Work?” He shook his head. “It’s a miracle I got this thing running at all.”
With his foot pressing the clutch, the old man twisted two wires together. Sparks flew. The Hilux sputtered, choked—then roared to life.
Nuckaya grinned. “Hell, old man, with you around, we could bring the whole damn world back.”
The mechanic chuckled. “Don’t push your luck.”
Nuckaya barely heard him. He had prayed for this moment. Weeks of scavenging, hours of fixing, and a lifetime of suffering were about to pay off. Tonight, he would escape.
“I’ll go tell your boss it’s ready. Stay put and don’t touch anything.” The old man hobbled off.
————————–
The cage was cold, but Amanda had learned not to shiver.
For weeks, she dreaded being “taken up” like the others. The screams from upstairs had long since become a part of her.
A sweet little canary trapped in hell.
But even in hell, hope found cracks to slip through. Notes hidden between slices of bread, messages scratched into the dirt when no one was looking.
“Don’t worry, Pookie. I’m coming for you.”
Signed Ayyia — her brother.
Tonight was that night.
She jolted awake at a noise.
“Bhanuka?” Her voice barely carried.
“Shhhh. Keep it down.”
Amanda crawled out of the cage, her legs weak, her heart pounding. Bhanuka dropped the bolt cutters and pulled her into his arms.
For the first time in forever, she felt warm.
Without a word, he peeled off his leather jacket and wrapped her in it.
No more waiting. It was time to go.
————————-
The courtyard was eerily quiet.
Nuckaya bundled Amanda into the Hilux’s backseat and jumped into the driver’s seat. He crossed the wires.
The engine whined.
Again.
The engine choked.
“Come on,” he muttered, hands slick with sweat.
One more try.
The Hilux roared.
A grin split Nuckaya’s face. Top Gear was right—this was the toughest truck in the world.
He threw it into gear and floored it.
Lights flickered on in the compound. Shadowed figures moved behind windows. The Scorpions were waking up.
Nuckaya didn’t care. He barreled toward the gate.
“Freedom, here we come.”
Then — Charlie stepped into view.
An Uzi in his hands.
The windshield exploded.
Muzzle flashes. Thunder in the night.
Nuckaya kept driving.
The Hilux smashed into Charlie.
Something crunched. A broken body flew through the air. Then silence.
The truck kept rolling. Free at last.
Nuckaya didn’t look back. Not for the first 20 kilometres.
He drove through shattered highways and rusted-out skeletons of cars that had died two decades ago.
He just wanted to leave it all behind — the depravity, the slaughter, the past.
“Amanda?” His voice was light, hopeful.
No reply.
“Amanda?” Panic crept in.
He glanced back.
Amanda didn’t stir.
The backseat was a mess of blood and bone.
Charlie hadn’t been aiming for him.
