The rusty yellow glow of a flickering streetlamp cast long shadows over the quiet street corner.
Sam, lanky and always slightly disheveled, sat with a toothpick between his lips and a hole in his faded shirt just below his collarbone. Beside him, Wes leaned back with arms crossed behind his head. His mechanic's uniform was stained in grease and sweat like it had become a second skin.
They were both in their early thirties, but time and hardship had carved deeper lines into their faces than it should have.
They sat on a broken concrete bench outside a closed-down barber shop with a half-finished pack of chin-chin between them, and a lukewarm bottle of malt resting near Wes's dusty sneakers.
The night air was thick with the usual Lagos humidity, but they were too used to it to care.
Sam scratched his scruffy beard and leaned back. "Hey… remember when we said we'd be millionaires by 25?"
Wes looked up from his chin-chin with a puzzled expression. "Millionaires?"
Sam nodded with wide eyes. "With supercars, bro. Like, Vroooom! Lambos, Ferraris. And married, with one kid each. Maybe a boy and girl combo if we were lucky."
Wes blinked.
"…We said that?"
There was a beat of silence before they both burst into uncontrollable laughter.
"Haaa!" Sam wheezed while clutching his belly. "Guy, we were so delusional!"
"Nahhh," Wes managed between tears. "The older generation scammed us. Told us we could be anything we wanted. LIARS."
"Bro," Sam sniffled, wiping at his nose with his shirt, "I wanted to be a spaceship pilot. I didn't even know this country didn't have one."
Their laughter roared louder than the traffic in the distance. Two grown men, barely scraping through life, laughing like carefree kids again.
That was the beauty of their friendship... poverty couldn't kill their vibe.
After some minutes, Wes stood, brushing dust from his trousers. "I gotta head out. Early shift tomorrow at that busted cold storage unit."
"Ah, true," Sam stood as well. "Lemme see you off. You know say the night breeze dey help with constipation."
Their shoulders bumped as they walked together, still tossing jokes back and forth. Kids along the block ran toward them, grinning.
"Uncle Sam, Uncle Sam!" one girl with beaded braids chirped while hugging his leg.
"Uncle Wes!" another boy yelled. "You still owe me biscuit!"
Sam bent down and messed the boy's hair. "Go get one from your dad. I am a retired biscuit hawker."
The kids laughed, clinging to their arms as they made their way through the street.
Suddenly, a boy came running barefooted with a look of panic strewn across his face.
"Uncle Sam! Uncle Wes!! The baby home! It's burning!! It's on fire!!"
Their smiles vanished.
"Which baby home?" Wes barked.
"The one down the road! The motherless one!"
No more words were needed before they stormed off in the direction of the motherless baby home.
Smoke painted the sky in shades of red and black. The orphanage was a ten-storey building and its middle floors were already engulfed in flames.
Screams echoed as some adults carried toddlers out. Chaos had spread.
The fire department had been called but no sirens could be heard yet. Apparently, they were still minutes out but no one could tell if this building could hold on for minutes.
Sam charged in first. Wes followed, tying a handkerchief over his nose.
"Let's move fast," Wes shouted. "Bottom floor first!"
Together, they stormed through the fire like lunatics. Dodging collapsing beams, wading through thick smoke with their shirts catching sparks.
They pulled babies from cribs and toddlers from under tables. Sam threw a chair through a jammed door to carry out twin girls barely older than two. Wes found a choking nanny and dragged her out with two infants pressed to his chest.
Minutes later, their faces were blackened with soot, hands blistered, sleeves burnt to tatters but they smiled through it all.
"We did good, bro," Sam coughed while leaning on the wall outside.
Wes panted. "Yeah. Just one hell of a… night."
They were glad that everyone was safe. Now they could retire for the night.
However, a piercing scream broke their chatter.
"Two babies are missing! They're still on the last floor!" one of the nannies cried with trembling voice.
Everyone froze as their eyes darted to the top of the building.
The last floor was all fire now. Cracks already ran through the walls... It looked like an impossible terrain.
But Sam and Wes locked eyes.
Without a word, they turned and ran back in.
"No, wait!!" someone shouted. "It's too late!"
But they were already climbing.
Every stair step seared their skin as they pushed forward without a care for their own safety.
Every breath was like inhaling acid and even as their legs trembled, they kept moving.
When they reached the last floor, it was like walking into a furnace.
However, amidst the flames and smoke, the distant cries of two babies could be heard.
They traced the sound and found the babies at a corner with flames licking the edges of their sheets.
Sam swiftly grabbed the closest one while Wes snatched the other before flames could get to them.
They wrapped them in a pair of untouched sheets, shielding them as best as they could.
Then the roof groaned as they turned around to head back the same way they came in.
However, the way back down was gone.
The stairways had completely collapsed and flames had coated every possible exit point now... except one.
"Only one way left," Wes whispered.
They stumbled to a window.... Ten storeys above ground was at least one hundred and twenty feet high.
Sam peeked down, then looked at the babies.
"…We won't survive this, will we?"
Wes smiled despite his bloody and bruised figure. "Nah… but maybe they will."
Sam nodded. He understood the severity of the situation... the flames were everywhere now and the top floor was collapsing around them. They didn't have even a single minute to spare.
"This is one hell of a way to go out."
"Yeah bro... but I don't regret it. I mean, there's not much to live for anyways. See you on the other side."
They wrapped the babies tighter and held them close. Then, side by side, they turned their backs to the street and fell backwards.
Time seemed to slow as the two descended from the air with the babies carefully positioned above their chest and belly region.
The neighbourhood was in shock as they pointed at the falling bodies with gestures of disbelief.
And then...
Bam!
They landed with a sickening impact on their backs but the babies were cushioned in their arms...
The babies were alive.
People screamed and rushed over. The fire department finally arrived three minutes later.
Paramedics resuscitated the babies but not Sam and Wes.
They lay still with broken bodies broken but looked as peaceful as ever.
Their corpses were soon covered by tarps as children wept and gathered around.
The two clowns... The two jobless uncles... The two nobodies.
Had died saving the most innocent of lives.
And in the eyes of that neighborhood...
They died legends.