Tọlá Belva

Chapter 1: The Driver’s Code

Chicago wakes before the sun, its skyline piercing the dawn as Lake Michigan shimmers with early light. The Windy City moves fast, a blur of honking horns, L-trains rumbling overhead, and the hum of people chasing something—money, dreams, or escape. Isaiah “Zay” Washington, 36, is one of them, maneuvering his aging yellow cab through the city’s arteries.

Zay knows this rhythm well. From his spot parked near a small café on 79th Street, he watches the city awaken. Zay has spent the last decade weaving through Chicago’s arteries in his yellow cab, ferrying people from one corner of the sprawling metropolis to another. His cab isn’t just his livelihood; it’s his survival, his stage, and sometimes his confessional booth.

Steam rises from his cup of coffee as he listens to the crackling chatter of the dispatcher on his radio. Outside, the streets are slick with the remnants of an early morning drizzle. This ritual—waiting for his first fare while Chicago stretches its muscles—anchors Zay.

The first ding on his meter today is a young musician. He’s carrying a guitar case slung across his back, his hair tucked under a knit cap that screams “artist.”
“Heading to Logan Square,” the musician says as he slides into the backseat, slumping like the weight of his dreams is too much for his narrow shoulders.

Zay pulls into traffic, expertly navigating the rush-hour chaos.
“You been doing this long?” the musician asks, eyeing Zay in the rearview mirror.
“Long enough to know nobody really talks about the city’s quiet moments,” Zay says, grinning.

The cab cuts through the skyline’s shadow, the driver and his passenger silently soaking in the moment. For Zay, this drive is routine, a piece of his larger grind. For the musician, it’s a step closer to a gig that might, or might not, change his life.

When they arrive, the musician pays, nods in thanks, and disappears into a building lined with graffiti. Zay watches him go, wondering for a fleeting moment what it must feel like to carry nothing but hope and a guitar.

As the radio crackles with another request, Zay shifts gears. The hustle of Chicago waits for no one.

Chapter 2: A Dangerous Fare

By mid-afternoon, the city’s energy has shifted. The rush of commuters has given way to a mix of tourists, hustlers, and locals trying to make it through another day. Zay idles near Wicker Park, the cab’s engine purring softly as he scrolls through his phone. The streets here are a collision of vintage charm and modern chaos—art galleries, quirky shops, and food trucks crammed into every available inch.

“Yo! Taxi!”

Zay looks up to see a man waving him down from the curb. The guy is lanky, his clothes just a little too loose, and a duffel bag hangs from one shoulder. He slides into the backseat with an air of urgency that immediately sets Zay on edge.

“Where to?” Zay asks, his voice carefully neutral.
“Just drive north. I’ll let you know when to stop,” the man replies, his tone clipped.

Zay glances at him in the rearview mirror. Something about this fare feels off—the way the man keeps shifting in his seat, glancing over his shoulder like he expects someone to appear out of nowhere.

“You got a name?” Zay asks, hoping to ease the tension.
“Call me Andre,” the man mutters, clutching the strap of his duffel bag.

The cab moves through the bustling streets, but Zay’s mind is racing. Over the years, he’s learned to trust his instincts, and right now, they’re screaming at him to end this ride. Still, he keeps driving, curiosity battling with caution.

When Zay makes a turn onto a quieter stretch of road, he notices a black SUV in the rearview mirror. It’s been tailing them for the last few blocks, moving with a deliberate slowness that sends a chill down his spine.

“Friend of yours?” Zay asks, keeping his tone casual.

Andre stiffens. “Just keep driving,” he snaps, his voice tight with barely restrained panic.

Zay’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as the SUV closes the distance between them. Whatever Andre is involved in, Zay knows he’s now caught in the middle of it.

Chapter 3: The Chase

The black SUV grows more aggressive, its headlights glaring in the cab’s mirrors as it inches closer. Zay’s pulse quickens, the weight of the situation settling heavily on his chest.

“What the hell did you get me into?” he demands, his voice rising.

Andre doesn’t answer, his attention focused on the bag in his lap. The zipper is slightly open, revealing the edges of neatly stacked bundles of cash.

Zay swerves into a narrow side street, trying to shake the SUV. “You running from these guys or stealing from them?”

Andre finally snaps, “Both!”

The revelation lands like a punch. Zay grits his teeth, his mind racing as he navigates through Chicago’s labyrinthine streets. The SUV stays on their tail, barreling through intersections and swerving around other cars with reckless abandon.

“Man, I don’t get paid enough for this,” Zay mutters as he turns sharply onto an alleyway, the cab’s tires screeching in protest.

They burst onto Michigan Avenue, dodging pedestrians and other vehicles. Andre clutches the door handle, his knuckles white as he shouts directions. The cab narrowly misses a delivery truck, the sound of its horn deafening.

“You’re gonna get us killed!” Zay shouts, his heart hammering in his chest.

Andre doesn’t respond, his focus fixed on the SUV that refuses to back off.

Chapter 4: A Desperate Gamble

As they approach Navy Pier, Zay spots an unfinished construction zone up ahead. It’s risky, but it’s their only chance. He swerves into the barricaded area, navigating through the maze of equipment and half-paved roads.

The SUV tries to follow but clips a metal beam, its front bumper crumpling with a sickening crunch. Zay doesn’t stop to watch the aftermath, gunning the engine and putting as much distance between them as possible.

Several miles later, Zay pulls into an empty parking lot. His hands are shaking as he kills the engine. “Start talking,” he says, turning to Andre with a glare.

Andre hesitates, his eyes darting to the duffel bag. “It’s not just cash,” he admits. “It’s their cash. I was supposed to deliver it, but I couldn’t do it anymore. I want out.”

Zay stares at him, disbelief and anger warring for dominance. “You’re telling me I just risked my life for your exit plan?”

Andre nods, his expression pleading. “I’ll cut you in. Help me get out of the city, and we split the money.”

Zay leans back, his jaw tight. The money could solve so many problems, but it could also destroy everything he’s worked for.

Chapter 5: A Final Stand

The cab pulls into a shabby motel on the city’s outskirts. Andre insists it’s a safe place to hide, but Zay isn’t so sure. His suspicions are confirmed when he spots the same black SUV parked across the street.

“Stay in the car,” Zay orders, stepping out to confront the situation head-on.

Two men exit the SUV, their faces grim and determined. One of them, a stocky man with a scar running down his cheek, addresses Zay directly.

“You’ve got something of ours,” he says, his voice low and menacing.

Zay raises his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’m just the driver. The guy you want is inside.”

The scarred man smirks, but before he can respond, Andre bolts from the cab, clutching the duffel bag. The confrontation erupts into chaos, and Zay uses the moment to create a distraction, allowing Andre to disappear into the night.

The men eventually recover their cash, but their target is gone.

Chapter 6: Lessons from the Windy City

The next day, Zay sits in a neighborhood coffee shop, staring into his cup of black coffee. The events of the previous night replay in his mind, each decision scrutinized under the weight of what could have gone wrong.

When the news reports a police raid on a suspected crime ring, Zay feels a strange sense of relief. Andre is gone, and so is the danger.

With the modest reward money he anonymously earns for tipping off the authorities, Zay finally repairs his cab. He even surprises his daughter Tasha with a new camera, her joy reminding him why he keeps grinding.

Chicago moves on, and so does Zay. The streets are still dangerous, still full of stories waiting to unfold. But for now, Zay feels at peace, knowing he navigated one of the city’s storms and came out the other side.