✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
FLAMMING LILY ESTATE
Meanwhile, at Flaming Lilly Estate, George’s farm, a disoriented Sinikiwe ran along rocky terrain with no idea where she was. Her breath came in pants, and frustrated tears shone in her eyes.
The skies were dark with rain clouds, making the forest appear even darker than usual. She silently prayed that the clouds were nothing but a false alarm, as they had been over the past few weeks. She couldn’t imagine what she would do if caught in a rainstorm in this dense forest.
She had been running for a while now, yet could not find an exit. Tears blurring her vision, she stopped to catch her breath. Her chest heaved, her heavy breathing punctuating the quiet night. She bent down, staring at the ground, her hands resting on her thighs.
She had no one to blame but herself for her current dilemma.
She had run out of the house barefoot, with no idea which way was east or west. Her only thought had been to get away.
Her kids had suffered enough at the hands of the Njolombas. The thought of them living on the same grounds overwhelmed her and, safe to say, had robbed her of her senses for a while.
She wanted one thing only -to hear the voices of her kids, to reassure herself that all was well. With her purse still in the house and no way of getting in touch, she had run in what she hoped was the right direction.
It had taken her five minutes into her flight to realize she was lost.
Good going, Sinikiwe. What are you going to do now? she reprimanded herself.
She had no idea where she was or how to retrace her steps. She could yell for help, but that was not an option she was willing to take. She wanted nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with the Njolombas.
Especially him.
“Get a grip, Sinikiwe,” she muttered under her breath as she straightened up and surveyed her surroundings.
Now that she was calmer, maybe she could find her way out of the maze of a forest.
She ran her hand through her disheveled hair while scanning the area. Alas, as far as her eyes could see, there were only trees and darkness.
The heavy canopy above swallowed what little light remained, casting long shadows on the damp earth.
The scent of wet leaves and rich soil filled the air. A cool breeze whispered through the thick branches.
A wave of hopelessness and despair washed over her. But then, as her heart calmed and stopped pounding in her ears, she heard the sound of flowing water.
She perked up.
Was it a river or a stream? It didn’t matter. Maybe if she followed it downstream, it might lead her to some sort of civilization.
There must be people downstream, she thought.
Ignoring her injured feet, she limped towards the east where the sound of flowing water was coming from.
Her heart thudded anxiously as she pressed deeper into the shadows. She pushed through the thick foliage despite branches cutting into her skin. All that was on her mind was her escape from George and the Njolombas.
Lightning forked across the sky, followed by a thunderous bang.
“Just great,”she murmured, hastening her footsteps.
In the next second, heavy pellets of rain dropped without warning, turning into a torrential downpour.
“Seriously, what rotten luck is this?” she grumbled, hurrying along the path while staying cautious of the menacing slippery ground.
As the sound grew closer, her footsteps quickened of their own accord.
Just as she reached a clearing, a sharp, startled cry pierced the calm forest.
Birds fluttered and flew away.
The cry came from Sinikiwe.
She had just slipped on a wet, mossy rock and tumbled down the slope.
Her body bounced on the rocks like a ball. The sickening thud of her bones losing the battle against the unyielding ground resonated in the night air. Pain lanced through her side as she struck a particularly sharp edge.
Her face etched in horror.
“Oh no, oh no, God please!”she cried. She tried to grab onto something, but all around her were wet mossy rocks that slid uselessly from her grasp.
No sooner had her descent stopped than she found herself free-falling again, her arms flailing desperately in the air towards an unknown end.
She closed her eyes in desperation, preparing herself for the worst, all the while casting a fervent prayer to heaven.
God, if this is my last day on earth, please let my kids know I loved them till my last breath.
ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *
Spanning 600,900 acres of untamed Zambian land, George Njolomba’s Flamming Lilly eco-tourist farm was a world unto itself. Forests teemed with birdsong and wildlife, while orchards, vegetable gardens, and free-roaming livestock hummed with life.
Solar-powered lodges and cozy cabins dotted the landscape, offering travelers a front-row seat to nature’s wonders.
Guests wandered winding trails, paddled across shimmering lakes, rode horses along hidden paths, or joined in the rhythms of farm life, harvesting and tending bees.
Every corner of the farm whispered sustainability-rainwater-fed gardens, composted soil, and renewable energy.
But at that moment, the tense atmosphere was in contrast with the promised adventure, learning, and the quiet thrill of living in harmony with the land.
Squatting next to the dozen German Shepherds, George stretched out his hand toward them.
In his palm lay a brightly colored chitenge purse-worn smooth by time and worry.
The SAR dogs quivered with anticipation, their wet noses twitching in the dusk.
A single, deep, deliberate sniff, and the scent seared into their memories.
George rubbed the head of the nearest dog.“Go on, boy, find her for me,” he whispered, his voice tinged with worry.
Tail wagging, Rex, the dog whose fur he had just stroked, lunged forward with a sharp bark. Pulling his trainer toward the forest where Sinikiwe had disappeared, Rex led the search and rescue team as the rest of the dogs followed closely behind.
George looked up at the sky worriedly.
The November skies, which had been blue and bright a moment earlier, had turned menacingly dark.
Standing next to him was Mrs. Mulenga, the housekeeper, who couldn’t help but fiddle with her hands, she glanced toward where the dozen-plus teams of rescuers had disappeared with the SAR dogs.
“Oh God, I hope the poor girl is fine. She’s not familiar with the grounds. I will never forgive myself if anything happens to her.”
Her husband, the gardener, placed an assuring hand on her shoulder.
“Let’s not assume the worst. The girl will be fine,” he said, though even he couldn’t help but stare toward the forest worriedly.
George clutched the purse tightly as he shot another disapproving look toward the darkening skies, as if in reprimand.
He turned to the elderly couple.
“Go back to your tasks. Sinikiwe is tougher than she looks. She will be just fine.”
The edge in his voice, though he tried to sound nonchalant, was unmistakable.
The couple exchanged curious glances.
“Eh, boss,” the elderly woman began hesitantly, “should we inform her family?”
“There’s no need. I’m sure she’s fine,” George replied.
Mrs. Mulenga frowned, raised her brow puzzled, and opened her mouth to say something, but her husband nudged her with his elbow.
Mrs. Mulenga huffed in disgruntlement.
What are you acting nonchalant about when you are the one who spared no effort-land or air-to find her?
They turned at the sound of helicopter blades beating in the air.
The chopper emerged from behind the mansion, dipped, and landed on the helipad on the green lawn.
Someone shoved open the Sikosky-92 chopper doors open, and a young man jumped out, trotting toward them.
George met him halfway.
“Boss.”
George acknowledged him with a curt nod and jumped into the chopper’s co-pilot seat.
“Boss.”
A chorus of voices greeted him. There was the pilot and four other men in the back: the farm manager, who had met him outside the chopper; a doctor and his assistant; beside the assistant was a medic box. Next to the farm manager was a nerdy-looking man operating a set of tablets.
Next to him, another man peered outside through binoculars, carrying a military air about him.
“Get us airborne,”George ordered as soon as he acknowledged their greetings.
“Sure, boss.”
George grabbed a pair of headphones, put them on, and accepted the tablet from the young manager.
“What’s the situation?” George tapped on the tablet.
A dozen open windows showed live feeds of the forest from drones.
“It’s not looking good,” the nerdy man replied.
“We have to find her ASAP. Her getting caught in the storm is a tragedy you don’t want on your hands,”said the military-looking man.
George’s hand tightened around the tablet.
The men’s faces turned solemn, well aware of the dangers. Though most parts of the country had yet to experience rains, it was a different story for them.
Since mid-October, not a week went by without a torrential downpour. It rained like the heavens had a score to settle with the land.
Goddamn it, Nikkie. Where are you? George mumbled internally as he looked outside the window worriedly.
The chopper flew over the forest just as lightning struck, followed by a rumble of thunder.
George frowned just as the pilot maneuvered the bird toward a specific direction after listening to feed from the men on the ground.
“Rex and the other SARs might be onto something, northeast of the forest.”
George unconsciously reached for the worn-out chitenge purse and clutched it tightly as if that would magically make her appear.
Rain began to drum on the chopper’s roof-steady at first, then turning into a serious downpour in seconds.
The military-looking man, though there was zero visibility, had his eyes trained on one spot.
“Something spooked the birds. Might be your girl,” he stated.
Too worried to correct his assumption, George picked up his binoculars.
Lo and behold, a flock of birds was flying haphazardly.
“That should be near Masozi Creek,”the pilot stated, turning to look at George worriedly.
✧:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *･ﾟ✧
React to this chapter:
Be safe Nikkie😢
I feel like I missed a chapter. How did Nikiwe find herself here?