The Wall

84

The two guards and the referee reached a cross street, and hastily disappeared around the corner. Whatever had just happened over there, the three of them weren’t all that far away from it. Moses imagined how the street under his feet curved slightly as it moved forward. The shooting had to be happening along there. In any case, it had just stopped. Maybe everything was already over.

He had to be careful. Two more properties on both sides, and then he would also reach the cross street. He glanced around. The coast was clear. Nobody at the intersection. Another look over the houses he wanted to pass. Nothing.

Stop. He looked back one more time and saw a woman standing at the edge of a window. She had straight, blonde hair and was wearing large glasses. Older than him, though not by much. Standing stock still. Staring at him. He greeted her with a nod and then ran to the next wall.

One more yard, and he’d be able to see down the next intersection.

Now. Moses sprinted as fast as he could. As fast as he still could after all the previous running. The shooting started up again as he made a beeline for the next wall, dove across, and crouched down on the other side. He had no idea how far away the bullets were flying, but he was close enough to feel panicked.

Calmly inhale. Exhale. In. Out. Stay down for just a few more seconds, then take the next step. The gunfire broke off again. This didn’t make him feel any better, though.

“Hey!” a voice called, one he knew all too well.

Shit, he thought and automatically rolled himself up tighter, one eye peeking over the top of the wall.

A figure came running up to the intersection, looked around and took off again, almost stumbling. Moses couldn’t believe it. The man looked like him. Okay, somewhat older. He was almost the same height, but the jeans he was wearing were the same shade as his. His yellow t-shirt was a few degrees darker, but was also tight-fitting. His hair wasn’t quite as bushy as his, but was still a typical afro. Moses saw the man running his way and had the feeling that he was looking into a mirror.

Behind him was the jackass from earlier. His nemesis. Club in the one hand, something else in the other. He was drawing closer.

“Hey!” he hollered again. And: “Stop, you bastard!”

Then, he himself stopped. And Moses could now see exactly what he had in his other hand. He threw his club aside and steadied the object in both hands. Aimed.

One second ticked by before he fired a shot.

The other man was almost up to his location. Moses saw him lurch, then fall. Less than two meters separated the man and himself. The white man’s steps came closer.

Moses flattened himself as much as possible against the wall. Be invisible. Don’t even breathe.

And then somewhere else, the great shootout began again.

Keep breathing.