Chapter 5

His eyes darted to the storekeeper, napping in the corner, his thick glasses slipping down his nose and a worn cap covering his grey hair. Chinua knew to be careful. The storekeeper was notoriously grumpy when disturbed. He glanced at Doreen, who was glaring at him, dimples visible on both cheeks. “You coming or not?” she asked, twirling a strand of her raven-black hair.

Chinua scoffed. “Coming to where? We’re already at the store.” He feigned ignorance, knowing full well where this was heading.

 “I meant the party. Everyone’s going to be there,” Doreen added, staring at a coloring book. Her art was amazing—sometimes Chinua wondered why he was so talentless. “It’d be a good chance for you to meet people your age, flirt a little, maybe find a girlfriend.”

Chinua rolled his eyes. “I don’t know…maybe. You know I have a thing.”

“Lying on your bed reading some romance novel and crying isn’t a thing,” she shot back, pouting. “And you’ve probably read every book in here. Why are you even getting more?”

“First of all, I told you that in confidence,” he said, his voice low and sharp. He glanced around the store—no one came here anymore. “I was looking for a book about the rifts.”

“No need,” she said, hands on her hips. “Everyone knows about the rifts. They’ve been around for years, pop up randomly, and no one knows where they come from.”

“On second thought, I don’t think I can make it to the party,” Chinua muttered, dropping a book. He hated social events, especially parties. Too much talking, long lines for the bathroom, and the music was always way too loud.

“Oh, come on,” she whined, throwing her hands up, before tugging down her sundress. “Didn’t you have fun at the last one?”

“Ezinne tried to get me high so I’d hook up with her,” he blurted, sucking his teeth.

“She was just really into you,” Doreen teased, covering her face with her hand.

“I’m waiting for the right one,” Chinua replied, setting the bag he was carrying on a nearby stool and picking up a new book.

Doreen froze. “Chinua, you’re probably the only virgin in the whole city,” she said, walking up to him. She placed her hand on his head. “I’ve known you for like six, seven years. You haven’t even made one friend since we started hanging out back in middle school.”

Chinua ignored her, licking his finger after a paper cut. “I’ve got one, Reen. I think we can go now.” He gently peeled her hand off his head.

Doreen grabbed the book from his hands, looked at the cover, and shook her head. “Great, another love story,” she said sarcastically, grabbing her bag. “You’re not going to find love in a book, Chinua.”

“I found you in a library, didn’t I?” he chimed, holding out his pinkie. “Best friends for life?”

Doreen hooked her pinkie around his. “Best friends forever,” she repeated. Then, she pulled out a bandage. Chinua was always getting hurt, so she always carried a mobile first-aid kit.

She examined the cut, nodding, and then added, “But I’m still setting you up with Fanyen.”

“Ugh,” Chinua groaned, twitching. “Anyone but her,” he said, tossing a few cowries on the counter where the storekeeper was dozing off. They walked out together.

The noise was the first thing that hit him as he stepped outside, flooding his ears with the hum of chatter. The air was filled with the scent of food and smoke, and an unbearable odor that made his nose wrinkle. The sun blazed down hard, and the narrow lane was crowded with fast-paced shoppers. His shoes sank slightly into the muddy ground with each step, and he winced as the muck splashed onto his clothes. He hissed and a crease formed on his forehead.

A soft hand wrapped around his arm, and he sighed. He was more relaxed with Doreen around—her calmness soothed his anxiety. They navigated through the crowd, sidestepping hesitant buyers and the carts of goods pushed by vendors calling out.

The moment felt perfect, as if it might last forever. But it shattered with a piercing shriek that cut through the air, sending Chinua’s heart pounding in his chest. Doreen's hand trembled in his as she scanned the chaos around them. He followed her gaze. What was going on?

The crowd swelled, then broke as people ran screaming, a gap forming in the middle of the market. Stunned, Chinua witnessed a rift materializing in thin air, its shape a luminous contour rippling to an unknown rhythm. Darkness swelled at its centre, like a black pit of the abyss. From within it spilled creatures with flesh hung like decaying rags, and spikes and bones jutted out from their faces.

Next to him, Doreen stood petrified, her eyes wide. “What in Chukwu’s name are those things?” she rasped. Only meters away, the creatures scanned the area with vacant eyes. One of them looked at Chinua—looked through him—with soulless white pools. The otherworldliness of that blank stare nailed his feet in place, even as his pulse quickened.

All around, the market erupted into chaos, panic crashing through the crowd. Several of the creatures advanced in a zigzag pattern, their monstrous forms swaying with every step. Screaming people ran to escape. Chinua’s heart pounded violently against his ribs, his breath catching in his throat.

Run. They had to run. He took a step back, but his knees shook, and his feet wouldn’t respond. When he tried to run, he stumbled, hitting the ground hard. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself up, dizziness crashing over him. A sharp pain shot through his side, causing him to falter. He gripped his waist, gasping as he looked over his shoulder. The reek of rotting fish made him gag—the figures were closer now.

Doreen’s hand trembled in his. She stood there, as lost as he was. A creature, finally turning its attention toward them, began to advance. A shock ran through Chinua’s rigid mind. It was coming straight at them. Doreen! He had to protect Doreen.