Birth of a Dark Nation (37 page)

I showered, shaved, and braided my long
dreadlocks behind my head so that they wouldn't be in my face.
Babarinde complained that I always styled my hair too flamboyantly,
that I drew too much attention to myself. I couldn't help that I
took pride in my appearance. Dante might be fine looking like an
average corner boy, but when people see me, I need them to know
they are gazing upon royalty. So yes, my hair was always done, my
face was always clean, and my nose was just a little bit higher in
the air than the average person's.

I walked down the steps of our house and
joined Dante and Justin at the kitchen table where they waited for
me.

"Good morning, gentlemen."

"Good morning," they replied in unison.

"So, as you know, Babarinde has given us
strict directives in our rescue of Orlando," I said.

"It's just the three of us against at least a
dozen vampires living in the house," Dante said.

"We can handle it," I said. "Nightwalkers
have their weaknesses."

"So, give me the crash course. I'm looking
forward to taking care of the vampire who tried to kill me." Justin
said.

"Stakes and fire," Dante said.

"Those are the only things that can kill a
vampire?"

"At night. Then of course, the sunlight."

"What about moonlight?"

"Moonlight? Nah, never heard anything about
that."

"What are you thinking?" I asked Justin.

"Just trying to figure out all my options.
Ultraviolet light. Solar energy. All that."

"We haven't tried everything because we
haven't had a reason to. We've had a truce for a hundred
years."

Justin nodded in silence. His face was still
puzzled, but he was a sponge, absorbing every bit of data.

"Victor, here's what I want to know," Justin
began. "Do we just go in there and get our man, police style? Or do
we try to uncover the bigger story? We know he ain't in no vampire
jail. That's not how they roll. We know they're up to no good, but
we're doing ourselves a disservice if we don't try to find out
what, exactly."

"But we tried that," I groused. "You planted
a bug and everything. It's time to just get Orlando."

"I agree; let's get him. But let's get him
and everything else we can find out about them."

"Fine, I can agree with that. But I am not
trying to spend all winter dealing with this."

"I feel you.

So, the dilemma is, do we attack during the
day when they're all sleeping, but guarded, or at night, when they
are likely to be out hunting?" Justin asked.

"Nighttime. They are more vulnerable by
themselves. And so is their mansion," Dante said.

"I think we're missing something important
here," I said.

"What's that?" Justin asked.

"If the vampires know that we made you a
daywalker, we might have a problem. You could end up locked away
just like Orlando."

"Then we'd better get this plan right the
first time around."

"Brothers, tomorrow is the day we realize the
destiny of our people. Today, most of you leave New Orleans and
start new lives under new rules. Stay small and stay unnoticeable.
Cling to each other, but participate in society. And when it's
time, move on into new identities. Be reborn, just as we were here.
Be the seeds that we were destined to be, floating quietly from one
place to be planted in another, softly and gently."

There were no tears in this farewell. As for
me, I was happy to be moving on to a new adventure. I was just
anxious to know who would be in my cell.

"A large group of you will be going west, to
Los Angeles. Sangodare, Akerele, Danguro…"

I fidgeted as Babarinde read the names.
Let's go
, I thought.

"Some of you will be going back to the
Caribbean, but to Haiti, this time. Omidiran, Oriade…"

Good. They're boring.

The other cities were rattled off: Atlanta.
New York. A growing city called Miami. Seven of us would be left in
New Orleans to manage the plantation. That left Aragbaye,
Aborişade, Ogundiya, and me.

"You four will be going to the nation's
capital: Washington."

Yes!

"So that means you're coming with us?"
Aborişade said.

"No."

"What? Why not?"

"I'm going someplace else. By myself."

"You can't do that."

"Yes. Yes, I can."

"It's dangerous by yourself, Babarinde."

"Nobody will know who I am. I'll be fine."
Aborişade wandered off behind the house without another word.

"So where will you be?" I asked, following
after Babarinde.

"Denver."

"Denver? Ain't no black people in Denver!" I
exclaimed.

Babarinde laughed and slapped me on the
back.

"There are a few. I'll be fine."

Dozens of wagons assembled outside of the
plantation. We loaded them up with our belongings and said our
farewells. The mood was jubilant for most of us and melancholy for
only a few. By and large, we were ready.

Babarinde gave each of us boxes of important
documents and wallets full of cash. The textile industry had been
very good to us over the years. Babarinde also had other
investments of uncertain origins that ensured our financial
stability. I didn't know much about trust funds and investments,
but I knew there were homes waiting for each of us at our
destinations.

The box accompanying us to Washington had
passports with our new names on them. He had also written detailed,
one page documents for us to study on the journey. They were our
histories—forged biographies to match the names he had created. We
had done this time and again in New Orleans, but this time it was
far more serious that we know our stories since we would only have
our small groups to rely on.

"Eşusanya, please take this seriously,"
Babarinde said to me as we walked to the field beyond our
house.

"I do, Baba. I'm just happy. Can't I be
happy?"

"Yes, you can be happy. Just try not to revel
in your happiness too much. We are destined for great things. Not
for ourselves, but for the glory of our people. For Africa."

"For the Razadi nation," Ogundiya said. He
was as quiet in his walk as he was in his speech.

"Indeed," Babarinde said. We continued
walking to the edge of the field and Aragbaye caught up to us.

"I worry about you being in Denver by
yourself," I admitted to Baba.

"I need the time alone," he said.

"How will we reach you?" Aragbaye asked.

"My address is among your papers."

We stopped at the edge of the field where the
forest began. Aborişade was already there, kneeling.

"I put the best of you together," Babarinde
said.

"Obviously," I said. Babarinde smiled at me
and continued.

"There are some things I believe, that I've
always believed. And I know you all may not believe as I do. We
have our traditions. The Orishas. Our crowns. And then there are
the scrolls that we came over with. The ones that survived. We know
that one of them is lost to the ocean. And we know another was
stolen by our kidnappers. But two survive. And I am taking them to
Denver. Maybe I can make better sense of them there in new
surroundings."

"You'll never give up the old ways, will you
Baba?" I asked.

"Of course not," he answered. "The one thing
I can decipher from the scrolls is The Key. The Key will deliver
us. We have to be patient."

Here we go again,
I thought.
Babarinde has got to be the youngest crazy old man ever.

"You think The Key is in Washington?"
Aborişade asked.

"Maybe. I don't know. The scrolls suggest
something like that. And I figure if it's true, I'd better have you
all there, ready. Are you up for it?"

"I am," I responded. "Not that we have a
choice. But yes, yes I am ready to find The Key."

"You don't have to look for him. He might not
have even been born yet. Just keep your eyes open and he'll find
you."

"We will," Ogundiya said.

I looked down at where Aborişade knelt.
Sectioned off by white stones were the graves of Armand Forestier
and Dominique Rabaut Forestier—our beloved Ariori and
Dominique.

"We cannot lose any more of our brothers and
our loved ones."

"We all miss them, Baba. But as we move
forward, we can and will protect ourselves. Razadi comes first. All
others wait," I said.

"We protect ourselves, yes," Aborişade added
as he rose from the ground. "But we have to protect the most
vulnerable, also. I don't think our destiny is just survival. It's
the protection of our kindred here in America. We failed terribly
at Bernoudy. But we can succeed elsewhere, and in other ways. I
don't know how, exactly. But I know we can. We're smart. We're
strong. And if we can survive all that we have so far, we can
survive anything."

"That, dear brother, is why you will be in
charge of the Washington cell," Babarinde said.

"What! I am the eldest out of all four of
us!" I argued.

"Baba, I can't. Not me. But Aragbaye! He's
Mama Abeo's chosen one and he's been your right hand for all these
years." Aborişade said.

"Fuck that!" I shouted. "I am the eldest and
we've always followed the laws of deference around here.
Always!"

"Aborişade is the leader of your cell. There
is no further discussion."

I shut up immediately.

"Brothers, I believe in you. Go to
Washington. Enjoy Washington.
Be
Washington. When the time
comes, we will be reunited again. May Olódùmarè smile upon
you."

He embraced each of us tightly. He got to me
last and whispered in my ear.

"You'll be glad I didn't put you in charge.
Mark my words."

I rolled my eyes as I patted his back. Before
he left us, he knelt down before Ariori and Dominique's graves and
said a silent prayer. He got up and walked back to the house with
Aragbaye and Aborişade, his two obvious favorites.

I looked at Ogundiya and he stared back at
me.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing."

"Yes, it's something. What are you staring
at?"

"You."

"Why?"

"Because…you're so easily angered. You didn't
even stop to acknowledge that you and I didn't have to be in
Washington together. But we are. Does that even make you
happy?"

I scowled and walked toward him, clenching my
fists. I stopped two inches from his face until he could feel my
breath hitting his chin. He was a good five inches taller than me
and twice as wide, but I wasn't afraid of him.

For good reason.

I smiled and threw my arms around him.

"You know 'happy' is not my default emotion.
Ogundiya, I'm ecstatic to be going to Washington with you."

He wrapped his massive arms around me.

"Me too," he said softly. "A new adventure,
but it's still me and you."

"Always," I said. "No matter what, no matter
who, it's always back to me and you."

By the morning light, Babarinde's wagon and
our wagons were the last ones out. The journey would be neither
easy nor short, but we would be at our destinations before we knew
it. The Razadi were releasing ourselves from the trauma of our
pasts and claiming our own pieces of the American dream.

"You're up first, lover boy," I announced to
Dante at our kitchen table. "Your target is Chiyoko Kobayashi. Made
a vampire in the 1970s. Sole heir to the Kobayashi Gaming Company
fortune. She's the Anubis Society's tie to business interests in
the Far East. Make a statement, Dante. Get all the information you
can out of her and then take her out."

"Got it," Dante said.

"That's funny," Justin said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I've only heard the name Chiyoko once before
in my life. We had a fundraiser at a bar on U Street, and this
Asian woman came in and gave us a donation. Turns out she was the
bartender. And it was funny because it turned into a swinger's bar
at night."

"That's her," I said.

"She's a nightwalker?"

"Did I stutter? Shit!"

"I just never thought I already met one."

"You've probably met several. You just didn't
know."

"I remember something she said to me. I shook
her hand and it was cool to the touch. She said she had poor
circulation and laughed it off."

"Yup, that's a nightwalker for you."

"She was nice. Do we really have to kill
her?"

"The only good nightwalker is a dead
nightwalker, especially when it comes to Anubis! So put on your big
boy fangs and cut out this sentimental bullshit. This bitch is
going down tonight."

This was the dirty part of our job and Justin
needed to get used to it. His precious
ipsaji
was every bit
the cold-blooded killer that I was and he had to see death over and
over again if he was truly going to be one of us. I wasn't from
Babarinde's school of thought, not since the white man murdered
Ariori.

We rode out to the bar in my favorite mode of
transportation: our inconspicuous white van. Chiyoko's gig at the
swinger's joint on U Street was a pretty good way to have a steady
supply of food and fun. I was a little mad I'd never considered
that: a place where uninhibited people trusted their discretion
with the bouncers and the bartenders every single night.

It was late, but the club wasn't quite closed
yet. The bouncers were still out front, letting people out but not
letting anyone in.

"We need Chiyoko
alone
in the club," I
told Justin. "So I want you to hypnotize the bouncers."

"Can I do that?"

"Of course you can."

"What do I need to do?"

"Look into their eyes. Deep. And tell them
what you want them to do. But don't just tell them. Push that
emotion onto them. Like…
push
it. Visualize them
wanting
to do it."