Chapter 10: The Weight of Silence
At dawn, the bus to Abuja departed. Adanna sat by the window, watching the city roll away in slow fragments, billboards half-lit by the early sun, quiet streets washed in pale mist, the smell of wet dust clinging to everything.
Tara sat beside her, hood pulled low. Neither had she spoken much since the message. Every vibration of Adanna's phone made her flinch.
"You think they followed us?" Tara asked finally.
Adanna didn't answer at once. She kept her eyes on the road ahead, where the highway curved into a blur. "Maybe. Or maybe they were already ahead of us."
Tara exhaled and looked out the window. "We'll find answers in Abuja. I still know people there."
Adanna wanted to believe her. She wanted to trust that the woman who had saved her more than once wasn't hiding anything. But Kene's recorded words echoed in her mind, "Don't trust Tara".
By the time they reached the edge of the city, her phone pinged again. A new email.
Subject: "VOID continues."
From: [email protected]
She opened it carefully. A single line appeared:
"You are three steps behind. Check the man at the terminal."
Her pulse quickened. She looked around. The bus slowed near the checkpoint where passengers stretched their legs. Near the food store, a man in a brown jacket was watching them for too long.
"Tara," she murmured. "Left side, near the suya stand."
Tara glanced discreetly. "I see him."
They got off with the others, pretending to buy water. The man followed slowly, pretending to talk on the phone. When Adanna turned, he looked away.
"Keep walking," Tara whispered. "We mix with the crowd."
But as they entered the noisy terminal, another alert came through. Same address.
"He's not your enemy."
Adanna's breath hitched. She looked back again, but the man in brown was gone.
By afternoon, they reached Abuja. The city stretched wide under the heat haze, glass and concrete glinting like it had secrets to hide. Tara led her through back streets until they reached a small apartment above a printing shop.
It wasn't much, two rooms, one window, but it was safe for now. Tara locked the door twice before speaking. "We stay here until night. Then I'll take you to someone who can help."
"Who?" Adanna asked.
"An old contact. Used to work in data recovery. He owes me a favor."
Adanna nodded but said nothing. She sat on the edge of the narrow bed, scrolling through her phone's files again. Every image of Kene felt heavier now, every memory sharper.
"Why did he lie?" she whispered to herself.
Tara didn't reply.
KENE'S LOCATION UNKNOWN
The room was dark except for the glow of the small monitor. Kene sat in front of it, jaw tight, watching a live security feed of the Abuja terminal. The camera blinked once he saw them. Adanna, alive. Tara beside her. Relief hit him like a wave, followed quickly by fear.
"They moved faster than expected," a voice said behind him.
Kene didn't turn. "You shouldn't be here."
The man laughed quietly. "You think hiding her will save her? Project Void doesn't forgive loose ends."
Kene rose from his chair. "If you touch her...."
"She's already touched by it," the man said, stepping into the dim light. His suit was immaculate, his smile too calm. Alhaji Suleiman. "You think you can stop something you built?"
"I built data interfaces," Kene said. "You turned them into weapons."
Suleiman shrugged. "Progress always looks like a weapon to the slow."
Kene's fist clenched. "I won't let you use her."
"You already did," Alhaji said softly. "The memory model you coded the one you tested with her interview archives? That was the seed. She's part of the system now."
Kene's breath froze. "What are you saying?"
"Find her, if you must. But when you do, you'll realize she's not just looking for the truth, she is the truth they want to erase."
BACK TO ADANNA
Evening fell hard. Abuja's power lines hummed as rain clouds gathered again. Tara checked her watch. "It's time."
They slipped out into the busy street, moving fast under shared umbrellas. The address Tara had given led them to a quiet estate on the city's edge. The gate was rusted, half open.
Inside, an old man waited, sitting at a desk piled with computers and documents. "You must be Adanna," a hoarse voice says. "Tara told me you'd come."
She nodded cautiously. "And you are?"
"Call me Doctor Bello. I used to work with your friend."
Adanna's heartbeat stuttered. "With Kene?"
He nodded slowly. "Back when Project Void was still a theory."
Tara looked uneasy. "We don't have time for history, Doctor. We need access to whatever records still exist."
Bello typed quickly on an old keyboard. "Records? You mean the fragments he left behind before he vanished. They were encrypted in his own handwriting."
Adanna frowned. "His handwriting?"
"Yes. A strange method, an algorithm tied to personal memory patterns. Only someone emotionally linked to him could unlock it."
Tara stiffened. "What does that mean?"
Bello met Adanna's eyes. "It means her. Only she can open it."
The computer beeped. On the screen appeared an interface, a swirl of coded text mixed with handwritten notes. Bello stepped aside. "Touch the screen, Ms. Okeke."
Adanna hesitated. "What if it's a trap?"
"Everything after love is a trap," Bello muttered.
She reached out and laid her palm flat on the screen. Lines of code flickered, rearranging into sentences, a familiar one. They were from her old articles, the ones she had written during her early days as a journalist with Kene's help.
Then a message appeared:
"If you're reading this, it means I've failed to stop them. Adanna, the void isn't outside, it's inside our memories. They're rewriting what we forget."
Her vision blurred. "This… this can't be real."
Tara whispered, "What does it say?"
Adanna read on:
"They will come for you. But remember the blue thread. Follow it, and you'll find me."
The computer shut itself off. Silence filled the room.
Doctor Bello looked shaken. "The blue thread? That was the core phrase of his research. He said it linked every altered memory."
Rain hit the windows hard. Tara turned toward the door. "We should go. Now."
But Adanna didn't move. Her mind replayed the words, "Follow the blue thread".
KENE- SOMEWHERE NEAR THE BORDER
Kene sat in the back of a moving van, clutching a battered phone. His contact had failed him again; the network was full of dead signals. He typed a short message anyway:
"She's in Abuja. Keep her alive until I get there."
The driver looked back through the mirror. "You think she'll forgive you?"
Kene's eyes darkened. "Forgiveness isn't the point. Truth is."
He looked out into the night, the rain blurring the world outside. Somewhere, in the noise of the storm, he thought he heard her voice; soft, distant, like a memory refusing to die.
BACK TO ADANNA
By the time they left Bello's place, it was midnight. The rain had slowed, but the streets were slick and empty. Tara drove in silence. Adanna sat beside her, still replaying Kene's words in her mind.
"Tara," she said finally, "did you know about the blue thread?"
Tara's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "No. Should I have?"
Adanna studied her face. The wipers brushed water away, then brought it back again, over and over like a heartbeat. She didn't answer.
A flash of headlights appeared behind them, too close, too sudden. Tara cursed under her breath. "We're being followed."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Hold on."
The car swerved onto a side street. Tires screeched on wet asphalt. Adanna looked back two dark SUVs were closing in.
"Who are they?" she shouted.
Tara's jaw clenched. "People who don't like journalists or truth."
The chase cut through narrow roads, the city lights flickering past like shards. Then a gunshot cracked the air. The rear window shattered.
"Down!" Tara yelled.
Adanna ducked. Her heart pounded as glass rained across the seat. Tara turned sharply into a dark service road and killed the lights. The SUVs sped past, disappearing into the rain.
For a long time, they sat in silence, the smell of smoke and rubber thick around them.
Finally, Adanna spoke. "Tara… if you're lying to me, tell me now."
Tara turned her head, eyes fierce but tired. "If I were lying, you'd already be dead."
Adanna held her gaze for a moment, then looked away. The night stretched endlessly outside, full of whispers and rain.