Max Annas - The Wall

Nozipho pulled Thembinkosi’s arm. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Stop!” the officer’s voice flashed. “You aren’t allowed to leave.”

Nozipho turned around. “Why not? It’s all over.”

“You can’t. Orders. Why do you think everyone’s standing around here?”

“Afraid of getting shot?”

“That, too…”

“But that’s over.”

“I’m sorry, but you have to wait until you have permission to move around the neighborhood. I’m waiting on word from the precinct.”

“And if we just leave anyway?” Nozipho put her hands on her hips. Her dress tore a little more.

“Then… then…”

“We’ll wait a few more minutes.” Thembinkosi positioned himself so the world didn’t have a view of Nozipho’s underwear.

“Yes, I’m listening,” the officer hollered into the mic. Silence, as they all tried to vainly listen in. “I understand,” she finally said. “All right… Everyone now, and straight out. Got it.”

Straight out sounds pretty good , Thembinkosi thought.

Before the officer could say another word, everyone started moving. The four garbage workers jammed themselves into the cab of their truck. The engine roared to life.

It wasn’t much farther to the wall’s ninety-degree corner. Leap, land safely, slow down. Look around. The crazy guy was still in sight, though he was hardly in a condition to follow him. The fire had already consumed a shrub.

New momentum. Over the wall, right leg up. Over the next one, child’s play. Then a hedge and reduce speed. Turn to the right. One last glance back. The white man was standing there. Motionless. The fire had reached the branch of a tree. Speed up again. It couldn’t be all that much farther.

It was getting harder for him to swing his legs over the obstacles. Again and again, and then he stopped. Four or five yards away from the one in which he was standing stood a tall wall that seemed to link the house to the outer wall. That was a good sign. He must be getting very close to the exit.

He carefully made his way to the last house. And discovered that his assumption had been on the mark. The connector between the houses and the outer wall ended here. Something was yelled on the other side of the wall. He could hear engine noise. That was the exit. All the curtains were pulled shut in this last house. It looked unoccupied. Leaves and dirt were scattered across the terrace. No threat should come from inside. He very slowly skirted the house to the street.

An entire convoy of police cars was just driving in. Small and large, a police van, then a prison transport vehicle with cells for arrested suspects. Moses ducked down and saw the exit. How long had it been since he had passed through there? He looked at his watch. 3:12. Over two hours ago.

Two Central Alert people, a man and a woman, were standing at the gate, along with two police officers, also a woman and a man. The gate swung open again for a black BMW with a mounted emergency flasher. Police top brass.

From the other direction, a gray compact car drew up. An old woman at the wheel. The policewoman stopped her with a wave. Opening the trunk, she looked inside. Thank you, keep driving. Shit , they had set up a checkpoint here.

The gate stayed open after the car drove off. Another convoy. Ambulances. All the private companies he had ever seen, one after the other. Had to be ten cars. An old Toyota bus was the last one to drive in. Scratched up, rusty, fumes belching from the exhaust pipe. All the first responders were needed here. Attenborough Ambulance was written on the side. Two of the letters were barely legible. He’d never heard of them.

How was he supposed to get out of here? Moses stared after the last ambulance, watched as it attached itself to the column. And for a split second, he thought he saw Sandi’s face behind the wheel.

“Come on,” Nozipho said again. “We’re leaving.” She grabbed Thembinkosi’s hand and took a step forward.

Everyone who had been standing around with them now started to move. The mail carrier checked his shoulder bag.

“Straight to the exit,” the officer called once more.

“Aaaah,” Thembinkosi said. “I thought for a second everything might get difficult.” He wiped his forehead again, this time with his handkerchief.

“Give me that.” Nozipho rubbed it over her forehead and lower arms, then under her arms, before handing it back. “We aren’t out yet, you know.”

One street up, a police convoy was crossing their path.

“But they aren’t looking for us!”

“Not yet. But we don’t know what’s waiting for us at the exit.”

What would Sandi do?

She would look for him. Of course. So he just needed to stand somewhere where she could see him as she drove by. Only problem was that they’d probably catch him before she did that. Standing out somewhere wouldn’t work.

What would?

Look for her himself. But then they might just keep missing each other, end up going down the wrong streets over and over again. They’d definitely catch him then.

At the end of the street, Moses caught sight of a garbage truck turning the corner. A couple of people were running behind the truck and throwing in the stuff sitting on the side of the road. And behind the truck, Moses briefly glimpsed the old ambulance. It didn’t turn, but drove straight ahead. In the general direction from which he had just come. Sandi was looking for him.

Hide well enough that no one will see me. But such that I can see the street that Sandi will have to drive down. To see but not be seen . Moses looked around. A couple was now running around the corner that the garbage truck had just rounded. They dove for cover behind a small wall. Strange , he thought. But that wasn’t his concern.

“I don’t know,” Nozipho said as Thembinkosi came to a stop beside her. “Let’s first see what’s going on up there. Come on. The garbage truck will block us. Let’s go!”

They ran along two front yards and stopped. “Look! They’re running a checkpoint at the exit,” Nozipho said. “Cops. Security.”

“What should we do?”

“Be careful. Let’s keep going.”

She pulled Thembinkosi into a yard and knelt behind a hedge. He crouched next to her.

If she was proceeding methodically, she would have to come down this perimeter street that ran parallel to the wall.

Moses glanced around one more time. Less than a hundred meters from the exit. He crouched behind a garbage can standing on the edge of the street. Checked it. Empty. The garbage truck had already been through here.

But where was the crazy man? He was the one Moses was scared of the most. He seemed determined, unscrupulous, and… well, crazy.

He could now see the garbage truck again. Very close to the exit. The workers were running back and forth throwing junk into the back. He had never seen garbage workers who ran. Maybe they wanted to get home.

Where was Sandi?

“Up there. That’s the last house, and those are the last bags they’ll be throwing into the truck.”

Nozipho hiked her dress high above her hips. She then grabbed Thembinkosi’s hand. Grabbed it hard.

The three workers were tossing bags and cartons into the truck. Two of them vanished for a minute, reappearing with a can they emptied together. They looked at each other and flashed a thumbs-up signal. Done. Together they walked around the left side of the truck. The first man opened the door and hauled himself into the cab.