Novels by Aaron Chiwaala

Mr. Zero, clad in a pair of new chinos and a lovely shirt and looking fresh, sat behind the wheel of the van that he had brought to a stop outside the local child welfare department. Ruti, dressed in a beautiful black dress, took her place on the passenger's seat. She held a medium- sized envelope in her sweaty palms. She exhaled and turned to Mr. Zero. "Wish me luck." She said, "Pray for me." Mr. Zero smiled and looked back at her and said, "It is well." He reached for her hand and gently clamped it in his hand. Ruti, still keeping her eyes on him, nodded and stepped out of the van. Mr. Zero watched her as she walked quickly to the entrance of the local child welfare department. This was the ninth time the duo was visiting the department in a quarter. Ruti gently knocked on the door of the Department's superintendent and walked in without waiting to be invited in. A fairly old couple sat at the couch by the window while Ms. Marjory comfortably sunk in an executive chair. As so

A swam of armed police officers and special forces arrived at the scene and quickly besieged the train. Guns and all manner of riot gear were at full display. At the signal of the superiors, the units charged forward with caution and a well- oiled intent to assault in self-defence. But, Mr. Zero and his team had already fled the scene. Deacon, the senior most amid the special forces, emerged from the unregistered vehicle and marched to the train. He was the only who seemed unconcerned about his safety. Unlike the team he led, he was not clad in a bullet proof vest. He only had a pistol tucked at the back of his trousers. He walked into the train in search for clues and possible answers. After a few steps that hinged around a careful scan, he saw the helpless figure of Alexis holding on to dear life in pain. Deacon squatted and announced his presence, “My bad. Who did this?” “Zero. He and his friends did this,” She answered. He chuckled, “I thought that son of a bitch is dead.

"The train is coming," Mia's voice echoed through the phone. "I repeat. The train is coming."Mia locked her aim on the train with the sniper's riffle. The train was a little further than two kilometres from her lofty station on the mine's crane."You heard overwatch," Mr. Zero announced on the tele- conference that kept his team in loop. "Bbob, we need that train in the pit."Bbob took in a deep breath. "Just gear up. It's coming."Bbob motioned forward and pulled the lever. This rendered a change on the course of the railway tracks. "We're ready," Big Thom announced. Mia kept a keen eye on the speeding locomotive. "Brace up, boys. It should be there in seven minutes."While the train closed in, Bbob took cover behind a bush and watched on. His part was done.Unbeknownst to Alexis and her team on the train, the railway tracks' monster was deviate into the old forgotten mine.Seconds later, the train lost control sped off the tracks. Thus, it overturned violently. A storm of dust eng

After day had broke, Mr. Zero took his place by the black board in Ruti's garage.Mia, Ruti, Bobb and Big Thom gathered about him. Their eyes zeroed squarely on him."Before we can discuss any of this, what's in for us?" Bobb opened the floor. Mr. Zero acknowledged with a nod. "The locomotive always has cash and valuables. Remember it's a Presidential train. Normally, it is used as a conduit to syphon public funds, drugs and precious stones. You'll split the spoils four ways."Big Thom hoarse voice thundered across the room, "and you?"Mr. Zero replied, "I just want my freedom back.""Sounds good to me," Big Thom was satisfied.Mia inquired amid chewing her bubble gum, "so, what's the plan? how do we get hold of the train?""We steal it," Mr. Zero issued a quick response. Silence swept through the garage."The train uses the same railway the corporation uses to move its locomotives. It must a round across the city once a day. I feel we can derail it," Mr. Zero outlined. "What do you

Morning had broke again. Ruti sat on the trunk of her truck in the garage. Her frame was covered in an oil stained work suit. Three metres separated her from Mr. Zero who stood by a black square the duo had painted on the wall. "What's the plan?" Wondered with a great degree of awe. "I mean, how do we steal the damn train?" Mr. Zero allowed a moment of silence. He was somewhat lost in thought. Ruti chuckled. "We need a few more men," Mr. Zero. "Just a few.""We need an army," Ruti spoke firmly. "We're talking about stealing the most protected locomotive. A few hands and minds will not do." "If a grain of rice can tick the scale," Mr. Zero voice mellowed out. "Then a few men will do. All we need is proper coordination and timing." Ruti nodded her head in agreement. "Do you have anyone in mind?" "Bobb, he once for the railway corporation," Mr. Zero replied. "Uh, we can also engage Mia, Fred and Big Tom.""Can they deliver?" Ruti wondered.Mr. Zero nodded emphatically, "I believe

"How do I look?" Ruti, rocking an old yellow dress with buttons running down on the front and green hat, raised and dropped her hands in a flash. "You look beautiful." Mr. Zero, wearing a greased work suit, smiled radiantly and confessed, "I didn't know you wear dresses." Ruti let out a chuckle, "It's all I have. I keep it just for special days like today." He nodded and advised, "we better be going."The pair walked out of the garage and hopped into the van. Mr. Zero took the wheel and drove off.Three months it had been since Mr. Zero survived Alexis gunshots that pierced his back. He had fully recovered. And the noise about the President’s assassination and false reports about his death had erased in most minds. Thanks to Ruti.During the ninety days, a razor neither touched his head nor beard.He looked somewhat different – he looked old with a pinch of scruffiness. He wore cap and for the first time in his life, a pair of cheap sun glasses adorned his face. All this was to dis

Barely a day after his arrest, Serge walked between two armed Police Officers. Both his lower and upper limbs were fettered with a chain cuffs respectively.He was led to the visitors room.The strong door to the secured room opened and Serge was shoveled in.The door was pulled back and secured with lock and key.He absorbed the pressure with a few staggering steps before gaining composure.A man, wearing a black suit, white shirt and black tie, sat alone. His face was adorned with a pair of glasses. He seemed to enjoy the silence that swept through the room. "And, you are?" Serge inquired while walking towards the table.

James walked out of the Police station with a jacket in his hands. He had been released from custody. After a couples of hours behind bars, it sure felt strange to breathe free air again. The sun, as though joining- in in his release, shone brightly amid the expansive blues in heavens. As he motioned towards the highway, with hopes to catch a taxi, Pola who sustained bruises and a black eye ran after him. “Priest!” James halted almost immediately and turned around.Pola continued with her thought, “I just wanted to say, thank you for your cooperation. You were of great help in our investigations.”James nodded gracefully but said nothing in return. Pola, with a pinch of shyness, “above all, I'm sorry for detaining you.”“'And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.'” James smiled brightly after making a quotation from the bible.Pola effortlessly spoke, “Romans 8: 28”James nodded. Smiled again, looking

Hopkins sat on the wheel chair staring at Ivy's portrait on the wall. As per his odd custom, the room was dimly lit and an awful silence kept him company. It was such a perfect setting for meditation and thought. The door opened and Kilogram, wearing a stern face, walks in with a pistol in his hand.Hopkins, expectant, inquired immediately, “Anything for me?”Kilogram, for the first time, made himself at home on the couch behind Hopkins. “Here's the thing... I walked into the house. And, there was Ivy unconscious on the floor. Serge stood over her with a haggard face. I tossed him the sharp- long pin and like a mad man, he pierced her through the armpit. All the way… to the heart. I enjoyed the sport. I love that guy, you know,” He chuckled softly. “Back to my story, we patched her up. I staged her death in the tub, implicated the damn Priest and got you to kill him at fee. And now, you die. Perfect plan.”“It was you two fools. Your hands are stained with my daughter's blood,” Hopkin

Moments after the induced confession, Serge packed his bag in a haste at his residence. He kept on pulling the curtain gently and peeking through the window in the light- starved room. The door to his bedroom slowly opened and Kilogram emerged with a gun in his hand. For a jiffy, he stood there and watched Serge as hurried on getting essentials together. The gunny was stealthy. It was as if he was never there until he made mention, “Boss.”Serge, without looking back, responded promptly, “We have been made. Some lady blew my cover at the hotel. By now, the police should know that I killed Ivy. They should be on my tail.”Kilogram gave a nodded and wondered, “Any intel on the lady?”“Nothing. Nothing I can put a finger on,” Serge said. “I suspect she's Ivy's friend. But I don't have any information about her. I have never seen her before. Yet she knows a lot about me.”Kilogram probed further, “Do you still have Ivy's phone?”“No.” Serge shook his head gently. “It’s still with the damn

The door to the dimly irradiated five- star hotel suite swung agape. Micah, barefooted, walked backwardly in the dark room. Serge advanced after her, step by step - Kissing and caressing each other. They both burnt with passion. Serge helped Micah take off her dress and lowered her gently, like a perfect gentleman, to the beautifully decked bed. With quick fingers he took off his shirt and belt and charged forward for more kisses on top of Micah.Winnie, sitting on the chair by the window, lit up a cigarette and took a puff. A revolver and handcuffs were on the side table stationed by her chair. Serge and Micah startled by her presence and immediately plummeted into fear, disengaged from their romantic clutch.Winnie established coldly, “Your wife is barely a month old in her grave and there you are snogging another woman.”“Who are you? What do you want?” Serge queried gnashing his teeth.“Who I am not is important." Winnie gave quick feedback. “But if you must know, I'm the Shepher

At a beautiful restaurant whose ambience spoke so much of cleanness, lovely décor and spaciousness, Pola sat alone feasting on a Greek salad. Soft music oozed through a few hidden speakers – much to the pleasure of both the staff and the patrons.WINNIE, in her late twenties, standing tall on her heels, emerged from the main entrance and took a seat on the other side of the table where Pola was enjoying herself. The latter kept her eyes on the plate.Winnie looked at Pola and without blinking opened up the conversation, “The devil roams about freely at the expense of an innocent man. Crazy world, huh?”“Are you talking to me?” Pola wondered.Winnie with a serious face answered, “No. But you can listen.”“Who are you?” Pola probed her further.Winnie struck back, almost instant with her gaze still resting heavily on the unconcerned law enforcer, “Who I am isn't important.”“What do you want?” Pola inquired softly but in a firm- weighted tone.Winnie demanded lucidly, “Freedom for the p