South of Hell: Part One

By: Lebogang K. Tlou

Kirby had never before now felt so comfortable lying in bed with someone. There was something special about Ronny; she knew this from the second they met three years ago. Kirby had not expected to ever grow so close to Ronny, and had certainly never expected to be in a sexual relationship with him either. He was sound asleep, curled with a knee resting over Kirby’s abdomen. She was lying on her back, staring at the ceiling. It was the early hours of the morning, and the world was asleep too. Kirby and Ronny were both naked – and she felt satisfied with life for the first time in years. Ronny stirred with a grunt.
“Morning, Ron,” Kirby said first.
“Hey, Cub,” Ronny yawned as he squeezed against Kirby’s body. She kissed him on the forehead, and they both burst out laughing as memories of the previous night overcame them simultaneously.
“Gosh, I did not mean to fall asleep on you,” Ronny said. “What’s the time, Kirbs?”
“It’s almost five, fam,” Kirby replied. “What time do you have to go into your office in the morning?”
“Around eight, I guess,” Ronny said flatly, with very little discernible positivity.
It was Ronny’s first day at a new job as a private investigator in the small beach town of Saint Frances in the Eastern Cape. Ronny had worked for the South African Police Services for the past five years, only to be most recently retrenched following a suspicious unfolding of events which occurred the previous month. Following this, he moved back to Saint Frances and tracked down Kirby, who set him up with his new job as a private investigator.
“Ron, are you ready to tell me why you left the Police Services?” Kirby asked cautiously.
“I have to go and shower,” Ronny said curtly. He got out of bed and headed into the adjacent bathroom. Kirby followed him in moments later, and got into the shower with him. He kissed her passionately.
“I’m sorry, Cub,” he started. “Walking off was really rude of me. It won’t happen again. In a nutshell, Crime is really severe in Johannesburg. In a corrupt country, with criminals at the top of the food chain, good guys wind up dead or in small towns. When I was given the choice to live and see you again, I took it no questions asked.”
“You were given the choice of leaving or dying?” Kirby asked, shaking from fear and shock.
“In a nutshell, yes. The how itself is what’s been keeping me up every night,” Ronny said.
“You slept like a baby last night,” Kirby smiled.
“A baby with the world’s greatest pillow,” said Ronny. Kirby frowned.
“Are you calling me fat and fluffy?” she scowled.
“No, Cub,” Ronny thought fast. “I’m calling you comfortable and warm.”
“Nice save, loser,” Kirby chortled. “Did the cops really threaten to kill one of their own?”
“No threats were made, Kirbs,” Ronny said, a grim look on his face. “They promised they would kill me, so I left.”
“They simply let you leave?” Kirby asked.
“Please drop it, Cub?” Ronny said. He walked out of the shower, dried himself off and got dressed for work. Kirby followed him out of the bathroom, and chose to remain wrapped in a towel instead of getting dressed as yet. Ronny’s phone buzzed on the bedside cabinet. He fell dead silent when he saw the name on the screen.
“Captain?” Ronny answered.
“We will find you again,” the Captain said ominously, and hung up. Ronny ran out of the apartment and to his car, much to Kirby’s bewilderment. He sped off towards the beach, where he took his simcard out of his phone and snapped it in half. He threw both phone and sim into the ocean. He fell down to his knees, as the realization of what had just transpired washed over him. He knew that they had probably tracked his phone, and he guessed that they knew he was in Saint Frances. They had the technology to triangulate his signal to a general location, and so he was safe with Kirby for another day. Then, he would have to leave. It wasn’t fair, he thought.
“What’s happening, Ronny?” Kirby asked from behind him. Startled, Ronny drew his pistol and took aim. “Oh, shit, Ronny! What the fuck?!”
“Cub, I’m so sorry!” Ronny spoke fast as he holstered his pistol and rushed over to help Kirby up. She dropped and ducked, in case shots were fired – an old survival technique from living with a trigger happy alcoholic father.
“Tell me what is happening, Ronny!” Kirby sobbed into his shoulder as he helped her up.
“They are coming for me, Kirbs, and they know I’m in Saint Frances. They don’t know about you. Nobody knows about you. They’re coming to kill me, Kirby.”
“Then we will kill them.”