Fifty-one

“Look—Tafiki! We're heading towards a boundaries, the guards are too plenty for us to maneuver past them!” shouted May, her voice were strained and stressed, fright mixed with worry etched on her face.

“Shit!” cursed Tiki. “I've told you countless times, my name isn't Tafiki—” said he, before a fly sputtered into his mouth, he had a hard time spitting it out. While sweats slid down his skin, he felt the soreness from riding the horse too intensely on his butt cheeks.

“Now is not the time, Tafiki!” cried May, she didn’t understand why he’d pursue that right now. “What do we do?!’

“I don't know. If they catch us, we'll be done for,” replied Tiki, he was now out of options, he searched his mind for constructive ideas, but none came up, he knew then that he was screwed.

“Stop!—Stop!” screamed May, there was no way out now, she saw soldiers at the boundary forming a human-barricade, with their scythes lunged upwards, Tiki knew going near then would surely end their lives quicker.