PROJECT LIVING-DEAD 5

PROJECT LIVING-DEAD 4 HERE

“You incompetent fool! You made a mess of the whole thing! Your lust for power and recognition might have ruined this project! That’s if it hasn’t already! What do I tell the General? ‘Cos I’m damn sure he knows already. Infact, we are screwed!” Dr. Bayo screamed, as he frantically moved around the lab while throwing dart-like stares at his assistant, Tunde, who looked terrified and remorseful.

He had always known Tunde was ambitious and yes, of a truth, the idea for the project had been his. But, that didn’t mean anything in the real world! He modified the experiments, expanded it, got people to volunteer as lab rats and more importantly, he had got the funding, something Tunde could never have been able to achieve. Now, his stupidity might have just ruined the whole thing. The General would certainly be pissed and worse of all, TYPE-C was coming for them. That alone terrified him shitless.

“Umm…your phone, sir.”

 “Will you get that thing off my face!” Dr. Bayo barked.

“But sir, it’s the General,” Tunde whimpered. 

Turning abruptly, he lunged at the phone, being careful not to let it slip through his hands. “Hello sir,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Do you know how much mess you’ve made, Bayo? This whole project was supposed to be under wraps but what do I get? Headline news on national TV talking about seven special ops team members, being found dead in the apartment of a student! This project is over! Wrap up everything you seem to be doing there because, project TYPE-C or whatever it is you call it, has been called off!”

“But General, we only
just started making progress after 3years of continuous testing and research. You can’t do this, sir.”

“Are you questioning my orders?”

“No, sir. I am just asking you to be patient with me. Three more weeks and we’ll be done. No more mistakes, I assure you!” Dr. Bayo crossed his fingers, hoping his words had been able to convince the General. After a period of silence that seemed like ages, the General responded. “Alright three more weeks and that’s it. I’ll have the girl brought back. No more interference. Am I clear?”

“Very sir! You won’t regret this I assure you!” He had to stop himself from doing a dance, right there and then. The air suddenly felt lighter than it had been for hours.

“I better not. Because I would really hate to see what will happen to you if I do.”

Ending the call, Dr. Bayo released the pent-up air he hadn’t realised he had been holding in. The General was out of the way and hopefully, with his help, TYPE-C would be put under check before she could get to them.  Now more aware of his surrounding, Dr. Bayo realised his assistant had been in the room all the while. It infuriated him so much he flung a hard, disapproving that could melt an ice.

“You’re still here?”

“Ummm..ye….ye…yes sir,” Tunde could feel almost the heat of the stare all over him.

“How long has it been since you saw your aged mother?” Dr. Bayo asked.

“Three years, sir.”

“I think you should go visit her. Take as much time as you want. I won’t be needing you around here.”

“But sir, there is so much to be done. I’m more useful here than I would be at home.”

“I insist you take the break,” Dr. Bayo said as he walked out of the room without giving his assistant any more room to whine or protest.                                                  

Diya sitting in a restaurant, looked around. For the past couple of days, she had been hopping from one cheap guest-inn to the other. Now, she was low on cash. She thought about going home but quickly put the thought off as she didn’t want to involve her fragile mum in the drama she was facing.                                                Her mum! If the missing three months of her life was anything to go by, that meant she had not spoken to her mum for three months.  She would be worried sick, Diya thought.

Staring at the phone she got from a shop across the road, Diya contemplated placing a call through to her mum. She wasn’t sure if she should. While she tried convincing herself, her thoughts were disrupted by the voice of a man sitting just two tables away from her. Picking up on his conversation, the man seemed to be threatening the lady he was having lunch with. It sounded more like blackmail, with a threat to kill the lady if she didn’t comply with his demands.

Diya stared at the two of them long enough to notice the man grabbing the lady’s wrist, causing her to moan in pain. Diya knew it was none of her business but somehow, she knew she wouldn’t just leave the lady and walk away. Standing up from her table, she made a move like she was headed for the door but stopped abruptly once she got to the table where the man and the lady were seated.

“Yes, can we help you?” the man questioned her, looking highly displeased.

Not taking regard of the man, Diya smiled and asked the lady; “Are you alright, ma?”

Now visibly angry, the man stood up and grabbed Diya by the shoulders. “I’m going to teach you to mind your business, you little brat!”

“You really shouldn’t have done that,” Diya said calmly as she used her other free arm which to grab the man by the neck, lifting him off the ground to the utmost shock of the lady who sat still, too terrified to move. The restaurant was soon deserted as people scurried out in fear.

Smiling with an unnerving calmness at the man still suspended in the air by her hands, Diya said to him, “You shouldn’t be rude to ladies you know, or even go as far as threatening to harm them. You’re not a very good man, mister and I am going to teach you a little lesson on how to be good to the female gender.” Facing the lady, she said;

“You really should make new friends; men like this are not good for you. Do you understand me at all?” With so much fear, the lady nodded in affirmation. “Very good then,” Diya said while returning her attention to the man who now was slipping into a state of unconsciousness.

Dropping him like a sack of potatoes, Diya watched the man long enough as he tried to catch his breath before she punched him hard in the face, causing him to be knocked out completely. Satisfied with what she had done, she flexed the hand she had used in punching him.

 “It was nice meeting you, ma’am but, I have to run ‘cos I think I might be having some company soon,” she said to the lady, now still as a statue. With that, she stepped out of the restaurant with a grin on her face. “I could get used to this,” she thought to herself.

Just outside the restaurant, two lanky men dressed in worn out police uniforms headed towards her. Diya was quite sure they were coming for her as she had earlier heard the manager of the restaurant making a call to someone she felt was the police. She walked calmly while trying not draw their attention towards her.  Just as she was about to walk past them, the manager of the restaurant came out shouting, “Officer hold am o! na she be that, e be like say she don kill the man sef!” (Officer, hold her! She is the one. It appears she has even killed the man!)

The officers turned around swiftly and held her hands. “You are under arrest!” the two officers said at the same time. Diya’s primitive instinct kicked in and she was abo