Nyambura's bare feet hit the cold mud with every step, panting like a hunted animal. Her hand gripped Amina's wrist tightly, pulling her through the thick forest bushes. The night was dark not just dark, but totally blackout dark. Not even the moon wanted to be part of what was happening.
Behind them, the dogs were barking. Loud. Angry. Close.
"Hurry, Amina!" Nyambura whispered harshly, her chest burning with every breath. Her legs were jelly, but she pushed on. "We don't have time!"
"I can't… Nya… my leg…" Amina cried. She tripped and fell hard on a root, groaning in pain.
Nyambura crouched beside her, heart thumping like a drum in her ears. She looked at Amina's leg blood oozing from her knee. Torn skirt. Swollen ankle. Not good at all.
"I'm not leaving you," she said firmly. "Even if I have to carry you all the way to Kisumu."
Amina gave out a weak smile, then bit her lip to stop from crying. She nodded slowly.
From somewhere behind them, a flashlight flickered through the trees.
"Walikimbia huku!" someone shouted. A man's voice. Rough. Angry.
The two girls froze.
Nyambura's mind raced. If they stayed there, they'd be caught. Beaten. Or worse. If they moved, they risked making noise. Either way, they had seconds.
She grabbed Amina under the arms. "We crawl. Polepole."
Together, they inched forward like wounded animals, sliding through wet grass and low bushes. The cold bit into Nyambura's skin, but she didn't care. She just wanted to get away.
They reached a patch of tall reeds. Nyambura pushed Amina down, then lay beside her, both of them holding their breath.
Footsteps.
Two men passed just meters away.
"She's smart, that one," one of them muttered. "She's been planning this."
The other man laughed. "Let her run. She'll get tired. They always do."
Their voices faded.
Nyambura exhaled shakily, her whole body trembling.
Amina looked at her. "Do you think the others are okay?"
"I don't know," she replied quietly. "But we're going to find them."
A sudden rustle made both girls flinch.
Then a voice whispered from the dark, "Nyambura?"
Nyambura tensed. "Who's that?"
"It's Chebet. Don't shout."
From behind a tree, Chebet appeared, face dirty, eyes wide with fear. She was limping too, holding a stick like a weapon.
"You're alive," Nyambura said, grabbing her in a hug.
Chebet winced. "Barely. They caught Sharon. Wambui and Mwikali are hiding in the old cave. Remember the one near the dry river?"
Nyambura's eyes lit up. "Yes! My shosh used to take me there. Is it safe?"
"For now. But we have to move. Dogs were on our side earlier."
Nyambura nodded. "Help me carry Amina. We'll follow you."
The three girls moved slowly through the bush, careful not to snap any twigs or step on dry leaves.
As they walked, Chebet whispered, "It's not a coincidence they found us so fast. Someone told them."
Nyambura stiffened. "What do you mean?"
"Someone in school snitched. Gave them names. Where we hang out. Even the blog."
Nyambura's chest tightened.
It was supposed to be anonymous. Safe. Just their way of fighting back. They had exposed the things no one wanted to say out loud how Principal Mwakazi was giving top grades to girls who "visited" his office at night, how some teachers demanded favors for exam tips, how bursaries disappeared.
They thought maybe people would listen.
But No! they didn't expect to be kidnapped.
Now they were running for their lives through a forest in the middle of the night.
"We'll talk later," Nyambura whispered. "First we have to survive."
Chebet nodded.
Finally, they reached a hill. Below it was the dry riverbed, and beyond it, thick vines covering a rock face.
"The cave is there," Chebet said, pointing.
Nyambura helped Amina down carefully. The rocks were slippery, and the mud was making everything harder.
When they got to the bottom, a whistle sounded soft, like a bird call.
Nyambura answered with their code two clicks of her tongue, then a short hum.
A moment later, Mwikali's head peeked out from the vines.
"You made it," she said, pulling them in quickly.
Inside the cave, it was cool and dark. The air smelled of earth and damp rock. But it was safe. At least for now.
Wambui was there, her face bruised but alive. Sharon sat in the corner, silent, her arms around her knees, rocking gently. No one asked what happened to her. Not yet.
Everyone hugged. The fear and relief mixing in silence.
Wambui broke it. "Are we going to die?"
Nyambura looked at her friends. Dirty, scared, tired. But alive.
"No," she said. "We're not."
She stood, brushing off dirt from her torn uniform.
"We started this because we wanted justice. Mwakazi thought if he scared us, we'd stop. But we're still breathing. We're still together. And we're still going to tell the truth."
Amina, still holding her leg, asked, "How? We don't even have phones. They took everything."
Nyambura walked to the back of the cave, reached into a hole she remembered from childhood. Her grandfather used to hide things there.
Her fingers found a small bundle.
Wrapped inside was a knife with a wooden handle, an old metal water bottle, and a black-and-white photo of her with her grandfather, taken when she was five.
She smiled. "We still have hope."
Chebet looked at the knife and said, "That's not hope. That's war."
Wambui laughed softly. "Good. Because I want to fight."
Sharon finally spoke. Her voice was low. "They think we're weak. Just schoolgirls. But they don't know we're made of steel."
Nyambura looked around. "Tomorrow, we move. We find someone who will listen. A reporter. A teacher. Anybody. Even if we walk all the way to Nairobi, we won't stop."
They all nodded.
Outside, thunder rolled in the distance.
Inside, they sat close together, warming each other.
The story wasn't over.
It had just begun.