***The Beginning***
Chapter I
Boom. The drumming began, slowly and steadily. The women- with faces flooded virgin white- began to call, then sing. Four men, dressed in nothing but a ring of banana leaves across their scrotum carried the courageous warrior, now washed and wrapped in the richest cloth the tribe had. The forest was deathly silent. The ritual drumming, singing and dancing was the only thing giving off any disturbance. The many communities of silverback gorilla were silenced and the spirits of the forest awakened.
Nwegta stood beating his father’s drum, his believes, the tribe’s believes, made it forbidden to even think about feeling ‘upset’ for the death of someone close, but Nwegta couldn’t hold back the rush of tears that would soon be seeping out of his young, glowing eyes. The funeral would last three days, but that didn’t worry young Nwegta, he could drum for his father for three long, continuous years and never tire. He didn’t see a lot of his father, but what he heard from the many women and fellow warriors of the tribe was that he would do anything to protect the tribe, the forest, Nwegta. However, the thing that Nwegta found most compelling about his father was his dream; he wanted to, eventually, bring ‘Ngemba’- peace- to the forest; peace amongst men, peace amongst machine, and peace amongst the forest itself. Nwegta didn’t quite understand how his father had died, Cérne had told Nwegta that one day his father had ventured into the forest alone and unequipped, he had said to Cérne that he was visiting another nearby tribe to talk peace and so he needed no weapons and no company. Cérne was my father’s sister, she was small and honest, everybody in the tribe admired her immensely and valued her presence with the up-most respect- she was the best cook they had.
Nwegta grasped his father’s pendent; he had given Nwegta this on his deathbed, he had said that the pendent was given to him by a grateful American traveller. On the pendent there stood a proud looking lowland gorilla. Nwegta had never been to America and had very little knowledge about anything outside of the tribe's small, circular village but from what he had heard, America was so far away; to get there one had to travel across a huge river, Nwegta had only ever seen a gorilla once but even so, he doubted that gorillas could even swim.
As the drum got louder and faster, a rush of adrenaline seemed to pump up everyone’s bodies. Then, a gunshot was heard from the east. The ritual suddenly stopped, still, in fear. Then, another was heard from the north, then south. Nwegta’s heart was pumping faster and faster. Then, from the west came the loudest gunshot of all, as a man stepped out of the shrubbery. The man was tall- 6ft 7- and wore an open white, blood stained shirt accompanied with a large gold medallion, ‘levi’ jeans and a smart, deathly black leather jacket, in his hands sat a fully loaded ak-47 and on his face was a deadly, proud smile, further up- a look in his eye, a look that had no love nor compassion for anyone at all just emptiness, coldness and dark. He shot his ak-47 up into the air for a second time before about 6 or 7 other men stepped out of the shrubbery in every direction- cornering the tribe. “What is this!” The leader yelled, whilst walking closer and lowering his gun to his side. All his golden rings and chains began to shine brightly in the daytime sun. “A party and I wasn’t invited?” He asked sarcastically before breaking out into a loud and proud laughter, followed by the other men that surrounded the frozen tribe. “Well?!” He moved nearer and fixed on one man- Kwagta, an experienced drummer- he stared directly into Kwagta’s eyes, that triggered Kwagta to discretely gulp- only Nwegta saw it- and smiled before laughing again. “And who is this?” He walked over to Nwegta, Nwegta also gulped, but far less discretely and clinched his fists, “I have never seen this child before,” He touched Nwegta’s shoulders and pushed him softly, “Stand!” He commanded at Nwegta. Nwegta quickly glanced over at Cérne for her opinion- she nodded frantically- so he slowly stood up. “Good, good,” he paused, “Strong, so strong for a little one,” -It seemed to Nwegta that he was admiring and praising him- He looked up into Nwegta’s eyes, “but the look in your eyes, a feeble, weak boy.” He laughed again prior to landing a hard punch on Nwegta’s shoulder. “But we can change that.”
“No! You are not taking Nwegta!” Kwagta yelled out.
The man turned and peered upon Kwagta and nodded slowly. Within a second one of the surrounding men aimed and shot at Kwagta once and then twice. The tribe that had once been hushed and frozen had now broke out into a stampede, yelling and screaming as they rushed out into the forest in fear. Kawi, Nwegta’s uncle, hooked Nwegta up off of the ground as he rushed past, his own son, Sam, clinging onto his back tightly.
In the centre of the mayhem stood the leader, his diamond stood teeth shining as he laughed. Then, he slowly turned his head towards the direction of where Nwegta was previously sat- behind his drum. His eyes suddenly became sharper as he forever turned his head in search of Nwegta. He started to move, shoving the screaming stampede of people to one side as he searched high and low. He looked up at one of his associates, before calling him over. “The boy!” He paused and waited for him to get nearer, “Find him, and bring him to me!”
Meanwhile, Nwegta, Kawi and Sam were sat under a tree, hiding from any unwanted visitors. “Who was that man?” Nwegta asked, still shaking from all the previous havoc.
“Nwegta, that man is Emmanuel Abélard, leader of the Masagny gang. They travel all ends of the forest, terrorising small tribes like ourselves.” Kawi answered angrily, hurling a small stone at a nearby tree.
“But why?” Nwegta asked.
“He’s sick, sick in the head Nwegta.” He paused and sighed, “On your father’s funeral.” Nwegta said nothing; he slowly turned his head the other way and set free a trapped tear in his eye.
“I want to go home,” Sam said standing up.
“No!” Kawi yelled, “We go nowhere, we stay here all night. We head back come dawn, when it is safe.”
“But I’m hungry!” Sam moaned.
Kawi stood in a huff and climbed the tree, “Stay clear.” He warned, waiting for the two boys to move, then shook it his hardest. Nothing. Kawi leaped off of the tree and went onto the next. Still nothing. “It looks like the animals have had a feast!” He joked; no one was in the mood for joking around, however Kawi did not want to show his true feelings in front of the two boys, it would only bring their strength of mind down. He leaped off of the tree and told the boys that he would try later, but first they needed sleep.
“But, it’s light!” Sam moaned once more.
“Then shut your eyes!” Kawi ordered before turning his head rapidly.
“What is it?” Nwegta asked, “Did you here something?”
“Yes, it was probably just a boar.” Kawi answered. However, he knew full well it was not a boar; he had hunted these forests since he was small and he knew a boar when he heard one. “Just close your eyes boys get some rest!” Kawi waited a few moments until the boys had shut their eyes and then he crouched, scouting the shrubbery and forestry in view. Nothing. It must have just been a slight breeze he thought. He turned back to Sam and Nwegta and sat.
A few minutes past and Kawi heard another rustle, this one slightly louder. He turned his head slowly and carefully behind him. He jumped up, grabbed Sam and Nwegta and ran, ran for their lives. Seconds later Kawi looked over his shoulder; it was one of Abélard’s gang members, chasing them. As soon as the boys had realised what was happening, they screamed out and broke the deadly silence of the forest.
Nwegta’s head was spinning, he didn’t realise that there could be so much havoc and disruption in one day; he had never left the village- today he had seen further into the world that he wanted to one day explore properly. The Masagny gang member aimed casually at the three and shot once. Twice. He seemed to be getting further and further away. Kawi had no idea, what so ever, of where he was heading, he had lost all sense of direction and position, he cried out in fear, “Ngemba! Ngemba!”
After running-without any intention to turn for one second- for miles, Kawi stopped. “I think, we, got, away.” He stuttered; all the running had left him breathless.
“Yes. We are safe.” Nwegta responded peering over the shrubbery.
“How far away are we to the village papa?” Sam asked- dried tears glistened in the evening sun.
“Not far.” He paused, “We’ll get there soon.”
The journey back was silent. Kawi ordered the two boys to tell no one of this incident- “It would only provoke the men and worry the woman.” Kawi had explained carefully and thoughtfully.
