Nyambura woke up with a start.
The cave was quiet. But not the peaceful kind of quiet it was the kind where even your heartbeat felt too loud.
Her body ached from sleeping on the hard rock. Her back was stiff. Her legs, sore. But her mind was sharper than ever.
She looked around. The others were still sleeping. Some curled like babies. Others sprawled like they had no bones left. Even in sleep, you could see the fear painted across their faces.
She sat up slowly.
Her eyes caught Chebet's she was awake too.
"You dreamt it again?" Chebet whispered.
Nyambura nodded. "Yeah. The night they took us."
Chebet shifted, coming closer. "Tell me how it started. Maybe we need to speak it. Remove it from the chest."
Nyambura breathed in deeply.
It was a Thursday. Games day.
Everything felt normal. Too normal. Like calm before a heavy storm.
Nyambura had stayed behind after PE to help a Form Two girl who had sprained her ankle. Then she went to the computer lab she had a new blog post ready. Amina had helped her edit it. It exposed how three girls were missing from school rolls but no one had reported it to parents.
She typed fast. Time was short.
Around 5:30 p.m., as the sun lowered over the school field, Nyambura left the lab.
That's when she noticed it.
Too quiet.
No students.
No teachers.
Just three men standing near the staffroom door. Not in uniform. Not parents. Not even teachers. Just strangers.
One of them looked at her and spoke softly:
"Nyambura Wairimu?"
She stepped back.
Then a hand covered her mouth from behind.
She kicked. Fought. Scratched. Bit hard. But someone hit her neck and the lights inside her head went dark.
When she woke up, she was in a moving pickup truck. Her hands tied. Her mouth gagged. Around her, the others were there Chebet, Wambui, Faith, Amina, Sharon, Mwikali. All gagged. Eyes wide with terror.
The pickup drove deep into the night. Past forests. Past rivers. Into hell.
"Let's move," Nyambura said softly.
The other girls woke slowly. Mwikali checked the outside carefully. "No movement. No dogs. But we shouldn't waste time."
They tied Amina's foot with a cloth from Wambui's skirt. Then they moved out of the cave like shadows quiet, alert, hearts pounding.
They followed the riverbank for some time, barefoot and freezing. Chebet had made a small map in her head if they followed this path, they could reach an old railway line. From there, maybe a market. Maybe people.
"Even a drunk mzee with a kabambe is better than this darkness," Wambui joked.
But no one laughed.
Amina's leg was slowing them down, but no one complained.
Each minute felt like a gamble.
Every sound a bird, a snapping twig made their blood run cold.
But they didn't stop.
Back in the school Principal Mwakazi stood behind his desk in his office, breathing heavily. His shirt was half-buttoned, sweat lining his forehead. He stared at the file in his hands a report from one of his men.
"Three of them escaped the compound. We suspect they've hidden somewhere in the forest area south of Njoro River."
He slammed the file shut.
Behind him stood Deputy Principal Kirimi and a tall man in dark glasses. Mr. Kosgei, a private "fixer" brought in from outside Nairobi. No one knew his real job. But everyone feared him.
Mwakazi turned. "I told you to handle this! How can Form Four girls escape trained men?"
Kosgei didn't blink. "They're not ordinary girls. They planned this like a militia. We underestimated them."
Kirimi spoke nervously, "Sir… if they reach the media… or the Ministry...."
Mwakazi pointed at him sharply. "Don't even say it. You want me to lose my job? My pension? My land in Ruiru?"
Kosgei cracked his knuckles. "Give me two days. I'll bring them back. Or silence them. Your name will stay clean."
Mwakazi sat down slowly. "Do it. And find out who else knows. That blog… it started in my school, but if it spreads…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
And He didn't have to.
Back on the Trail the girls found a footpath.
Chebet squinted ahead. "Looks like a farm road."
They followed it.
Soon, they heard something a bell. Then cow moos. Then a bicycle ringing.
Amina's eyes widened. "Someone is there."
They ran or limped toward the sound.
At the corner, they met a herdsboy with a faded Arsenal jersey and a herd of cows. He froze when he saw them dirty, bleeding girls stumbling from the forest.
"Eh! What happened to you watu?" he asked, shocked.
Nyambura stepped forward. "Please… do you have a phone?"
He looked around. Whispered, "I have. But si yangu. It's my boss's. You people look hunted."
"We are," said Mwikali. "Please. Just one call."
The boy gave them the phone.
Chebet dialed.
One ring. Two. Three.
Then a voice.
"Hallo?" It was Miss Mukami, their former English teacher.
"Miss… it's Chebet. We escaped. But they're coming."