The white Toyota Prado speeds towards the Tshikwarani bridge two kilometres ahead. As they round a bend they see the police van at the bridge.

Davida clicks his tongue in disgust. “Pinky, quickly take the phone from John. Let Mr Seema know that we are done with his child.”

“He needs to hear the sound of the gun as I blast open his daughter’s head,” John screams, the cold barrel of his gun pressed hard just above Lebo’s right ear.

Pinky punches the digits into the phone. After a few seconds, Pinky speaks: “You invited the cops into our deal? Don’t say ‘no’!”

The phone is on loudspeaker.

“But–” comes Mr Seema’s voice.

Pinky: “You told them to come!”

“No, I swear…”

“I want that fool of a father to clearly hear the sound of the fired bullet enter his child’s head…”

Then Davida hits the brakes and the car skids and spins. It’s facing back the way they came now.

“Tell those police that we will shoot the child before they can get their hands on her! Tell them, stop them!” Pinky shouts.

Mr Seema tries to tell the policeman who is standing beside him, but he is talking excitedly into his radio to his colleagues in the van.

“Let them see her!” shouts Davida.

John pulls the cloth off Lebo’s eyes. She blinks her eyes until they get accustomed to the light. He shoves her head out the window.

Davida swerves and the cellphone flies out of Pinky’s hand.

A white Isuzu van and two police sedans are chasing the Toyota Prado now. Davida is racing back towards the farm. Davida changes gear and the engine screeches. He curses.

Pinky lifts her hands and puts her arms around her head. “Please, God! I never thought it would come to this!” she screams. “Remember how we lost Calvin? He was shot in the head by the police.”

They drive wildly on, and overtake several cars along the road.

The others are silent. Lebo is yanked back inside the car.

“Mara police station is up ahead. Shit.”

“Now what do we do?” Pinky yells.

They hear the whirring sound of helicopter blades; a white police helicopter is overhead. They all see it. It swoops down. It’s just ahead of them now. Menacing. It is getting a little lower and it faces the Toyota Prado menacingly.

Davida turns onto the farm road. They are thrown from side to side in the car as he speeds back to the house.

“We still have the girl as our hostage. They won’t shoot if they know we will kill her if they do!”

The Toyota Prado screeches to a halt near the big tree in front of the house. Davida flings the door open, leaps out and plunges into the bushveld. Pinky opens the door too. She wants to dash into the bushes as well, make a run for it. But she hesitates too long – the police have surrounded the car now. They leap out, their firearms ready.

“Raise your hands!” one officer barks through a loudspeaker.

The helicopter blares overhead and goes in the direction Davida has run.

“Get out of the car!”

John is grabbing at Lebo’s back on her dirty school tunic with one hand while he is pointing his gun against her head with the other. He kicks the door open and pushes Lebo out first, and he follows with his gun at her head. He leans behind the young girl’s back for safety and presses his back against the car.

Lebo’s body is shaking; she is so scared.

“Put down your gun,” the officer says.

Mr Seema’s bakkie stops a few yards away. The police have warned him to stay back. No sudden movements.

“I am gonna shoot her now!” John shouts.

Then Pinky says, “Please, John.” She begs him: “Please, don’t do that.”

“Why? It’s part of the deal. He cheated us. We’ve got to kill his daughter!” he says.

Hands still raised, Pinky shakes her head from side to side. “Don’t. We will be put away for murder then. For the rest of our lives.”

Slowly, hesitantly, John’s hand loosens its grip on Lebo’s tunic until she is free. He closes his eyes and bends forward to put his gun on the ground. Slowly he raises his hands up.

Lebo sprints towards the nearest female police officer who accepts her with an embrace.

Now a policeman appears with a handcuffed Davida. John and Pinky are chained and hurled into the back of one of the police vans, together with Davida.

And then Lebo hears her father’s voice and turns. He is running towards her. His outstretched arms are ready to accept her. Father and daughter are locked in a warm embrace for several minutes.

“I want to go home,” she whispers.

She walks arm in arm with her father to his bakkie. Her legs are shaking. He hands her his phone to speak to her mother.

Later, much later, after debriefing at the police station, they sit together on the couch, a family again, and listen to the news.

“Grade 9 school girl Lebo Seema has been reunited with her family after an ordeal in the hands of kidnappers…”

*****

“Ndi masiari vhomme, (Afternoon mothers),” the girls greet the fruit-sellers as they pass.

“Avhudi (Good one),” the fruit-sellers reply.

It’s a sunny day and Lebo, Lufuno and Tshilidzi walk along through the market. They have just bought some juicy apples. The fragrance of fresh bananas, oranges and lemons fills the air.

“My transport will be here in thirty minutes,” says Lufuno.

“Mine in forty-five minutes,” Lebo says and, with a smile, adds: “I don’t need a lift. Not today. And never from…”

“Strangers!” they all shout out.

***

Tell us: It’s common for older teens and adults to ‘hitch-hike’ with strangers. Do you think it is safe? Would you, or do you, do it?