Awaited Rescue

CW: Physical violence, kidnapping

1.

The boat moved out slowly despite the strong winds and high tides. It sailed away from the land, dwindling away with his only hope of being rescued. John looked around trying to study the faces of men that took him but saw nothing, they had hit him too hard on the head and his eyes hadn’t got its good vision back, he only saw the silhouette of their bodies, four men–or women? He couldn’t tell their sex- crumbled in the little boat.

An enormous wave hit the boat. John almost fell into the sea; his captors just swayed, their legs experienced with the nature of the sea. One man moved closer and sat beside him at the back of the small boat, where he was hugging the transom. He put his hand on John’s shoulder, pulling him up onto the transom.

“Is your mind good?” The man asked; he sounded forced into speaking.

“Yes.” John could now remember the names of the surrounding men, or what they gave him for their names. This one was Hassan, the ringleader.

“Then you will understand that we have already received payment, and you are of no use to us.”

“Yes.”

“Our boat is here; see you when we meet again.” Said Hassan.

John looked towards the side Hassan was facing, and saw it, a much larger electric boat with a good light approaching their wooden, smaller boat moved by oars, and his captors were moving into the newer boat abandoning John.

“Don’t worry, they will come get you,” said Hassan, handing him a small phone. “They tapped this phone; don’t lose it.”

By saying that Hassan jumped into the new boat, disappearing into the blackness as waves from the larger boat shook John’s.

He jumped to the center of his boat, holding tight, hoping the boat isn’t toppled.

2.

Things had happened too fast for John to comprehend how and when they had known he was rich; well he had told his friends and they couldn’t be working with his captors, apart from Steve and Eve nobody else knew of the bet he had won.

The group had come to Bagamoyo as it was customary of them. After a long week of college hustling, they spent the weekends on the outskirts of the city, and this weekend they had decided to come to Bagamoyo.

The five friends were all present, the young beautiful Eve, a girl he dated, light-skinned with a perfect plumpness around her chicks and waist and there was Steve, his best friend a year older and from the same village as John, always together during betting. Steve was with John when he won the large amount of cash.

The other three were Kevin, Michael and Asha the old gang, his college mates, friends he wouldn’t go anywhere without and upon winning he had called them. John told them of Bagamoyo and that he would finance the whole trip which was a customary habit of the group.

In Bagamoyo, everything had gone as planned until it came to going for a boat ride. Steve and Eve had contacted the boat owners, arranged the trip and perfected the vacation, when it came to paying, Steve had suggested John to go alone.

“He had agreed with the sum, 100,000 Tsh in total, go talk to him; we are here waiting.” Said Steve.

The sun was setting on the shore almost five kilometers from Bagamoyo town, where most of the adventurous boats were located, here they were full of hopes.

“Alone?” asked John. “Why?”

“Bargain, and you are the boss.” It was not like them.

Well, John had just smiled and walked to the boat, leaving the others ashore, where they stood watching him. He turned twice, receiving hand waiving from Eve and blown kisses.

“So you are the boss?” Hassan, the boat owner, said when he got into the boat.

“Yes,” he replied.

Something hard hit him on the head.

3.

John’s hope was fading. Time came and time passed, his boat floating in the vastness of the sea, not knowing which side was north and which was south. Hassan and the others -his captors- had left him over twelve hours ago. When it was pitch-black, then the sun rose and now it was at the farthest corner of the sea, setting.

During the waking of the day, he had attempted to row towards the west where his mind had indicated he would find Bagamoyo, a small town from which he had been captured, drugged, and taken to sea. The whole day together with the sun they fought towards west looking for the town or any trace of land, but now the sun had arrived but he was still rowing until his hands turned numb and all hopes dead. Hope brought back by the blunt promises of Hassan a day before, ‘don’t worry they will come and get you’ ‘this phone is tapped don’t lose it.’ The phone was now dead, and nobody was coming.

Hunger, thirsty. When the sun was up, he had found a small sack filled with dried potatoes well stored in the boat. He ate those eagerly, hoping to use the strength it offered to propel him to Bagamoyo. With the dried potatoes was a small bottle of water from which he had drunk to the fullest finishing the bottle just before midday and now with the sun setting and no land at sight he felt the pain in his stomach the dryness in his throat, he couldn’t wait any longer.

John tried to lift up his hands and touch the oars at both sides but a large wave hit, it came from nowhere and threw him off the boat. He struggled to swim with his weak body, trying to hold himself afloat while looking for the boat.

There it was just two legs away from him. He thrust-ed his body towards it but another wave hit tossing the boat much further, panicking he pulled the last bits of strength he could master and swim against the waves towards the boat hoping to get to the boat before his strength died.

Just before another wave hit, John held on to the boat, struggling against a succession of waves to hold it close, and when the sea settled a bit, he jumped onto the boat, and for the first time his heart rested.

John looked around for his phone but couldn’t find it, his hope for rescue vanishing, he had lost it.

He still waited.