The headland was a tomb of wet shadows.
From behind, a spear moved in a savage, dark arc. It drove into the Bati's face with a wet, bone-breaking chukk.
The unseen person let out a raw, animal shriek—"AAAH!"—as the spear shoved the point deeper, then ripped it out with a brutal, tearing grrr-t.
The hole in the Bati's face was a shattered crater.
The obsidian tip, jagged and glass-sharp, had punched through the cheekbone, leaving a star-shaped rip in the skin.
The edges of the wound were ragged and white, the bone underneath splintered into tiny, needle-like shards that glinted in the torchlight.
The Bone-Hard Knot of the Bati's jaw was gone, the hinge broken. His face was now a asymmetrical wreck, one side sliding down into the mud while the other remained frozen in a shattered, empty stare.
Tambo, pinned beneath the shadow, didn't think. His hands were fused to his own face in a failing shield, one eye already swelling into a tight, purple slit. His lips were heavy, split shelves that tasted of copper and grit.
As the Bati tipped forward,
Tambo performed a violent, mud-slicked heave. He threw his weight to the side, his spine arching in a desperate, rhythmic snap.
The Bati hit the silt exactly where Tambo had been a heartbeat before—a decisive, muddy flump that sent a spray of cold slurry over Tambo's back.
Tambo lay in the dirt, his breathing a high-pitched, hitched whistle that felt like crushed glass in his chest.
He watched the Bati's frame settle into the earth, the once-terrifying warrior now just a hollowed-out heap of cooling meat.
Kanka stood over him, his chest heaving in deep, pressurized gasps. Sweat and fresh blood ran together, dripping into the thinner, grey silt of the headland.
Kanka let the spear fall. The wet wood hit the mud with a heavy, liquid slap—a dead sound that carried no vibration.
He leaned forward, his spine curving into a strained, aching arc.
He reached down, extending one arm toward the dirt. It wasn't a graceful move; it was a desperate anchor thrown into the silt.
Tambo stayed still for a heartbeat,
his face pressed into the cold slurry. Then, his arm began to move—a slow, heavy rise through the dark.
When their palms met, the sound was a wet, sticky suction as skin gripped skin through a layer of sweat and cooling blood.
Kanka hauled upward.
Tambo's weight was pulling hard against Kanka's shoulder. He pulled himself up with a rough, jagged grunt—a sound that felt like grinding gravel in his throat.
As he rose, the movement sent a sharp, white-hot pull through his bruised ribs, making his breath catch in a tiny, airless hitch.
They stood there for a second, two black-silt shadows swaying in the wind, held together only by the clenched-tight grip of their hands.
Tantei slowly sat up with a heavy, ragged grunt. He hunched over, clutching his stomach as if the pressure could lessen the blinded ache in his ribs.
His head didn't drip blood, but his thick afro and torso were completely drenched in cold, slick mud. He rubbed his forehead, his eyes fixed on the ground, then he paused—the silence pulled his gaze up.
He and the brothers exchanged a single, shared glance that bypassed words and spoke only of imminent danger.
Tantei uttered one strained word. "Tolu."
The trio ran up the ladder with a creak-snap.
As they climbed out the outer palisade, Tolu stood by the water's edge, a hand placed on her mouth while the other was folded on under her arm. She darted her head, tears glinting in the light.
"Tolu." Kanka muttered.
Tolu's eyes widened. "Kanka!!" she ran with a thud—splat—thud
The Trio hugged eachoter in a tight, solid embrace, their feet a heavy splat—thud—
Tolu cried against their shoulders. "I thought i really lost you guys. Aah."
"Tolu, just stop. We're fine now. Don't cry." Tambo's voice muttered, a soothing strain.
"I heard yells and punches. I thought you guys were… Aaah."
"But we're okay now, that's what matters."
Tambo held her face with both of his arms, his bruised face dilated his opaque intensity. "hey, Look at me. We are alive in one piece, you are alive in one piece. That's all that matters, okay?"
Tolu shook her head, tears fell on his hands with a warm, wet drip. She wiped the tears as Tambo placed his hands away with a dry, skin-on-skin rub.
Kanka showed a firm finger at the village. "Hey. Look who showed up."
A distant, high-pitched shout—sharp enough to carry above the constant, rhythmic slap of waves—ripped through the night. A mass group of flickering forms rumbled toward the headland far on the headland.
The Chief ran along with the villagers and enforcement. His voice, a deep, resonant roar, cut the air as he screamed toward the sea. "Konto. What are you doing? Come back here, now!"
Konto gritted his teeth, not in anger, but in searing shame. He only gave quick, guilty glances from moment to moment toward the people. The absence of the warm orange haze offered no visibility on the boat.
"if you asked me if Konto's a great person to work with?, i would've used him to mess up someone else's plan."
The Chief's watch fell onto the distant palisade— four figures that walked forward. He shot a quick, desperate gesture to the Bati enforcements.
The Chief shot a firm finger to the four figures. "He's heading for the headquarters. Don't let them get away!"
Thud—thud—thud.
They inclined a firm nod to him. Hnn—hnnn.
The noise of the Bati's quickened gait resounded through the high grass with a wet, screeching shush, and their heavy Gata clubs caught the torchlight with every rhythmic movement on the path.
Tambo's sweaty face gazed ahead, eyes wide. He stretched a finger ahead, his voice rough. "This is really bad. Someone must've found out about his escape." He gave Kanka and Tantei a helpless look, his lips pressed thin. "What now?"
Tantei fixed his eyes to the sea, holding his stomach with a guttural grunt. The wind bit at his mud-caked hair. After a moment, he said, his voice a strained wire, "We swim."
Tambo raised his brow. "Swim? All the way over to Konto?" he pointed a desperate finger to the distant Drua.
Kanka's face tightened in grim resolve. "He's right. There is no other choice. Either we swim or receive a Totokia on our skulls by sunrise... or maybe something much worse."
Tambo looked at him quietly, worry warring with his desperate resolve. He gave a heavy nod to Tantei. "Alright."
Tolu looked at them in worry. "But i can't swim."
"We will carry you. Don't worry." Kanka muttered in subtle resolve.
With desperate, simultaneous effort, the three brothers went toward the shoreline with a thud-heavy-splat.
Their feet made quick, shuffled sounds as they hit the first wash of the low tide, then quickly turned loud, squelched-patted as they descended slowly. The water was shockingly cold against their bruised, sweating skin.
Their faces were locked in a grimace, as they kicked the water with their legs with such force, it turned into a foamy white splat—splat. The water climbed at their mouths, spitting it for air, their breathing heavy. They kept their high, their lungs burning for air with a pressurized hiss.
The Chief's screams were closer now, broken and sharp as the Bati's enraged yells joined the pursuit. "Kanka, Tambo!!"
As they approached closer with thud-screech-splat—
the Chief cussed under his breath as he looked at his feet and the water. "Damn, these kids!" He snapped his fingers towards the enforcements. "Ready the Camakau, immediatly. Don't let them get to far."
With that the Bati nodded and gestured eachoter. "Let's go." Their steps in screeched-shus faded down the path once more.
The villagers murmured in shock.
One yelled out. "Guys, what the heck are you thinking?!"
The Chief looked at their swimmed away forms. "Tantei. Don't do this. Don't do this!!!!" His voice boomed.
A woman stood at his side. Her face was tight with disbelief and a chilling sense of dread. Her silver-streaked hair, braided meticulously, seemed to stand out against the rising fury of the torchlit shore.
She gripped the Chief's arm with a sudden, vice-like strength. Her gaze raked across the dark water, her eyes sharpening on the awkward, struggling forms.
A low, guttural gasp tore from her throat. Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle a rising tide of nausea.
"They... they are leaving us," she whispered, her voice raspy with shock. "We won't see them again, Vakatale." She looked at the him.
Vakatale held her hand, his thumb pressing down gently, a subtle reassurance. He turned back to the sea, his massive shoulders tense.
The brothers finally approached the Drua. Their kicks were sloppy fractures now, their muscles screaming from the exertion.
Konto came to the edge of the outrigger and extended his arm, his face creased with fear and confusion. "Bro! You guys look.. awful. What happened out there?"
The brothers didn't speak.
Konto pulled Tolu up with a heavy grunt. "There you go. Glad to see you in one piece."
She landed with a shsss of water—drip-drip. And repeated that with the rest in a desperate effort.
The only sounds were the splashing of the waves, the creak of the ropes, and the heavy, tearing grunts that exploded from them as they heaved themselfs up.
He reached an arm to Kanka. "Give me your hand!"
Kanka slapped it aside with a wet-skin slap. "Move." He jumped up onto the boat and fell with a flat, wet thud on his back, breathing heavy.
Everyone's breath were ragged, water dripping frequently, soaking the hull wet with a steady, rhythmic drip-drip-drip.
Konto extended his arms wide with a smile. "I'm so relieved that we're all back together as team. I was starting to think—"
"What the hell was that, Konto?!" Tantei interjected, his voice cutting through the fluff like a razor-sharp rasp.
Konto's smile faded, hands down.
"You just broke our cover when i explicitedly told you what not to do."
Tantei held his stomach, his head bruised and soaked in salt water, his eyes pierced into him with a cold, vitreous stare.
Everything seemed quiet, save for the sibilant hiss of the brine against the wood.
"How did you get seen?" His voice held a confrontational edge.
Konto closed his eyes tightly, then slowly opened one on the left, teeth exposed. "I may have… forgotten to off the lights just a tiny, insy bit."
Tantei held both hands on his face and turned around. "Oh, Kontoooo."
Constant, heavy Thud-Thud-Thud on the hull of a fist echoed from behind, followed by a loud, annoyed Exhale—a sharp huff of air.
Tambo looked at him with a shook of his head, -tsk-tsk-tsk-tsk-.
"Okay. Maybe it wasn't tiny." Konto confirmed comically.
Tolu gave him a slight raise of a brow, then pivot to Tantei's dramatism.
Konto argued, gesturing with his hands in many forms. "I'm sorry, okay. I was hauling the sheets, the sail lines, i even had to check if no one's watching me from the shadows. I was under alot of pressure, and nervous. It just .. slipped my mind."
"Slipped? Slipped?! Your mind doesn't slip in such serious cases, espescially this one!" Tambo pressured, his voice a low-frequency rumble.
Konto raised his arms in a clueless motion. "Fine. I have no excuses. You win."
"No!, you do not get out of this today. We've just been caught. Do you realize what you've done?"
Tantei showed a finger at him, walking close with a wet slipp-shhh of his feet on the deck.
Tolu stepped infront of them, her head darting to each of them. "Guys! Stop it. We can set aside our issues later. Look!"
A new sound ripped through the night. Two Camakau were in the distance, their hulls slashed and ripped through the waves in fluid, high-velocity motions.
The two torchlit silhouettes came into view with their flapping sheets that overlapped each other with a violent, rhythmic thwack-thwack.
THE BATI ENFORCEMENTS stood with their expressionless eyes, their frizzy halo hair and Afro widly moving in the constant woosh of the wind, holding their Bow And Arrows firmly and defensively.
Tambo's voice ripped, loud and panicking. "Damn these men are relentless! They are on top of us!"
The vessels closed in faster, dragging the waves in a hiss and swish—a sibilant-grind of wood against water.