Birth of a Dark Nation

by Rashid Darden

  I had seconds. Out of courtesy, I knew the guard would not be staring at me as I walked out of the bathroom. I pretended to make a wrong turn and entered the dining room, where I planted the first bug on the ground, next to the first grate that I saw. I immediately turned back around to the hallway, took a few steps and looked at the huge painting in front of me. I touched the bottom of the gilded frame, and stuck a bug there, totally unnoticeable.

  My final destination would be trickiest. I walked up to the guard's desk and then turned around to face the sitting room.

  "This house is awesome," I said. "They actually be sitting in this living room?"

  "Yeah," she said, as I tiptoed in, pretending to glance around while I dropped the final bug in a potted plant by the entryway.

  "Damn," I continued. "Look like a museum."

  "Mm-hmm," she said. "They nice people, when I see them. But they never here during the day."

  "I see. Well, thanks. Thanks, pretty lady. Maybe I'll see you next time?"

  "Maybe. Have a good day!"

  "You too, love."

  I exhaled and hurried out of there. When I got to the van, I called Victor on the burner he gave me for the occasion.

  "Yeah?" he said.

  "It's done."

  "Good. Very good."

  "Yeah. You're welcome."

  I clicked off the phone and threw it into the woods when I got to the corner.

  Admonition

  The next morning at work, I sifted through a stack of Memoranda of Understanding from our potential community partners. Now that Magdalene House was under new management, other community organizations and health providers were bending over backwards to have formal relationships with us. It was a great problem to have.

  My intercom beeped and I picked up the phone.

  "Good morning, Jennifer!" I said cheerfully to my executive assistant.

  "Good morning, Justin! Mr. Oliver is here to see you."

  "Thanks, send him up."

  I continued to look over the MOUs, but within seconds, Dante was at my desk.

  "So you goin' on missions now?"

  "What?"

  "You know what the fuck I'm talking about, nigga."

  "Yo, who do you think you're talking to?"

  "Somebody who almost got himself killed, that's who!"

  "I didn't almost get myself killed. Everything's fine."

  "Everything is not fine! You went into the heart of the Anubis Society and planted bugs in they house? You really think that's a good idea?"

  "So I guess Victor told you?"

  "Of course he did."

  "He just told you to get under your skin."

  "This ain't about him, this is about you."

  "Calm down. I went in the daytime."

  "Daytime my ass! They got cameras."

  "I was in a UPS uniform with a hat on, they couldn't see my face on film."

  "You think they can't smell you? You think they can't tell when a human they don't recognize has been in their house?"

  "I did this for you."

  "You didn't do this for me, sir. You did this for Victor. I didn't ask you to do this and I would never ask you to do this. What you did was incredibly stupid."

  "They have your brother, Dante! If you were going to get any closer to finding him, you needed somebody—a non-Razadi—to somehow get on the inside. And I did. I don't even understand how this wasn't even on your radar."

  "Are you suggesting that getting my brother back wasn't a priority? Because it was. But I follow the protocol of my tribe, and at the end of the day, I know what my prime directive is."

  "And what's that?"

  "To protect you!"

  "I am not a fragile flower, Dante, so stop treating me like one."

  "And you are also not invincible!"

  Steve knocked on the door and poked his head in.

  "Everything okay in here?" he asked. "Sounds like…"

  "We're fine," Dante said, immediately looking Steve in the eyes. "Everything's fine here, you may leave."

  "Alrighty then!" Steve happily said, as he closed the door.

  "Did you just hypnotize him?"

  "D'uh."

  "Well excuse me. I didn't know you could do that. Anyway, don't hypnotize my staff!"

  "I needed privacy!"

  I turned around and looked out of the window.

  "Justin."

  "What?"

  "Please look at me."

  I turned back around and faced Dante, looking him in the eyes.

  "Yeah?"

  "You will not return to the Anubis Society."

  "Is that an order?" I shot back.

  "I said…you will not return to that mansion."

  "Dude. You are totally trying to fucking hypnotize me!"

  "Yeah, so?"

  "But you can't?"

  "I guess not."

  "Ha!"

  "Don't mock!"

  "Ha, ha! That's what you get!"

  "I'm just trying to protect you, Justin, shit!"

  "Listen. I went to that house because Victor asked me to and because it was the right thing to do. Victor just wants Orlando back and I don't blame him. I was never in any danger."

  "But you might be now. That's all I'm saying."

  "Well. Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not. Listen, how about this: I'll promise you no more solo missions if you can promise not to bully me or lock me away in a tower for my own good."

  "There's shit at play here that you just don't understand."

  "Then help me understand. Let's do this as partners and friends, not as a master and slave, okay?"

  "I ain't mean to make you feel that way, aight?"

  "I know. Let's just do this differently moving forward. Deal?"

  "That's a deal."

  "And if you ever try to hypnotize me again, we're gonna have a fuckin' problem."

  Proof Beyond Faith

  "You want to go for a walk?" Dante asked me out of the blue one Sunday morning.

  "Sure," I said. "Why not?"

  "And we can grab some breakfast or something while we're out?"

  "I'd like that," I said.

  After showering and putting on some clean clothes, we left my apartment and stepped into surprisingly cool summer air.

  "It feels amazing out here," I said.

  "Doesn't it?" Dante asked. We took the back door out of my building and took the long way down to Kennedy Street, through the alley and around a massive vacant lot. Just prior to my move in, there had been an apartment building much like mine standing there, but it was a notorious tenement-a slum where the real dregs of Kennedy Street lived. But for some reason, rather suddenly, the building was haphazardly demolished, and a pile of rubble sat there in its place. It was only as a result of many complaints from the neighbors and a sassy neighborhood activist appearing on the local news that the owners did finally clean up the refuse. Now, it was just a flat mound of dirt and rocks that grass and weeds were rapidly overtaking. It might turn into a nice green space if the city would do something with it.

  I paused at the corner of the vacant lot and waited for Dante to pick up his leisurely pace.

  "I'm here, man. I can see you."

  "But I can't see you," I laughed. "You walkin' behind me like secret service. Come on. Walk with me."

  He bashfully picked up his pace and joined me. I smiled at him and looked away.

  As we walked, we heard the loud argument between the two drug addicts I always saw walking up and down Kennedy Street: a black lady pushing her child in an old, ratty stroller and her partner, a sleazy white guy in need of a haircut and a bath.

  She pushed her child along with no regard for the bumps and cracks in the sidewalk. The conversation was so inane, so loud and rambling, that even the kid himself seemed to beg Dante and I for a rescue.

  As I stared at the baby, Dante stared at the couple with the slightest look of contempt.

  Their argument was about money. It sickened me to know that they were off t
o score some dope with their baby in tow.

  Dante and I looked at each other and shook our heads in silence.

  As I looked further down the street, I saw a small herd of little old ladies in white waddling down the street toward us.

  "That's precious," I said. We got closer to them and saw women of different ages, from their 40s all the way up to a wizened women of about 90, all taking their time to get up Kennedy Street, presumably on their way to church.

  "Good morning, ladies," Dante said, nodding to them.

  "Good morning!" they replied cheerfully. We stepped to the side and let them all pass.

  "Must be on their way to communion," I mused.

  "Why you think that?"

  "Because they were all dressed in white. I don't know. Either that or they were the missionaries."

  I sighed.

  "What's wrong?" Dante asked.

  "Nothing. Those ladies make me miss my grandma."

  "What happened to her?"

  "She died a few years ago."

  "Oh. I'm sorry man."

  "It's cool."

  We walked in silence for a few more paces, passing several corner stores and closed liquor stores.

  "You don't go to church, do you?" I asked Dante.

  "Nah, I don't. You?"

  "Sometimes."

  "Why only sometimes?"

  "I was raised in the church. Sometimes I miss it. The music. The message. But then again, I don't suppose I ever really identified with it."

  "With Christianity?"

  "Yeah. I find religion to be really hypocritical, especially Christianity."

  "That's true. Jesus wasn't like most Christians at all."

  "You say that like you knew him. Wait. Did you know Jesus?!"

  "I'm not that old," he laughed.

  "Well then, why you don't go to church? Because of the hypocrisy?"

  "No."

  "Then why not?"

  "Because I don't need to."

  "Why not? You got a free ticket to heaven already?"

  He laughed. We turned left on Fifth Street and began walking north, up a slight hill. A Metrobus passed by us, spewing black pollution and noise into the quiet air.

  "Church is for people who have faith. I don't have any."

  "You don't have any faith? That's depressing."

  "Why?"

  "You're too young to give up on humanity."

  "Humanity? Oh, no, you ain't feelin' me," he laughed. "I don't mean I don't have faith in people. I mean I don't need faith. Faith is what you hold onto when you can't make sense of the mystery of conception, the complexities of life, and the senselessness of death. Faith means an acceptance that everything happens for a reason and that it's vaguely good. It's a belief in a higher power that we presume to be benevolent. We have faith because the opposite of faith is nihilism, and maybe even insanity. I mean, what would you do if you knew for a fact there was no God? For a fact? That when you cease breathing, there's nothing else? That there is no white light or heaven or reunion with your friends or loved ones?"

  "Well, I'd be really sad, to say the least. Depressed. I might not have a reason to get out of bed, maybe."

  "Right. Justin, I don't need faith. I know that there is more than just humanity, that there is a before the before, and that there will be an after the after. I have proof beyond faith."

  "Proof beyond faith."

  "Yes."

  "An interesting concept."

  "Not a concept at all. It's just a fact. There is more out there. And somebody once wrote-a long time ago-that one day, everybody is just going to know. They will all have proof."

  I paused for a long moment.

  "If everyone has proof…beyond faith…that there is an afterlife, or God, or whatever higher power, then wouldn't everyone lose their free will at that point? Wouldn't that make right and wrong irrelevant?"

  "Maybe. Or maybe it could just be the most beautiful thing in this world. Something we've been waiting for since the dawn of time."

  "You should know. You were there."

  "I ain't that old, nigga," he laughed. We had reached the park next to Coolidge High School. We turned to the right, taking a pathway through the park toward downtown Takoma Park, just over the DC line.

  "So, what is it?" I asked.

  "What's what?"

  "The proof."

  "Oh, well, it's like one of those things…you'll know it when you see it."

  "Come on! That's no different from any other religion!"

  Dante ran ahead of me in the wooded park and climbed quickly up the side of a tree. More precisely, he ran up the side of the tree with little effort or resistance from gravity.

  "Dante!" I called. "Get down!" I looked around to make sure nobody had seen.

  He smiled back at me.

  "You don't have to believe what I believe," he said. "But I know there is more. And one day, you will know, too."

  "Okay, stop being weird. Just come down."

  He jumped straight down from the branch he sat on and ran directly up to my face, which he kissed.

  "You'll see," he promised.

  What We Learned

  "First thing's first," Victor said, as he settled into his seat at the Magdalene House conference room. "How are things going here?"

  "Things are excellent," I said, handing him and Dante my quarterly report. "Here are all the details. But the major things you'll want to know are that the actual housing facility is now at capacity. Thirteen families are in the building. Each of our case managers has a full caseload. As you know, we've been taking on any client who is HIV positive and needs help, not just women. This expansion allows us to stay busy and stay relevant in the HIV community here. We're quickly overtaking our competitors."

  "Not that you have to compete," Victor said.

  "Yes. You're right. It's not a competition. Still, I can't help but to try to measure our success against the organizations which take government funding. And frankly, guys? We're just able to do more without the red tape of the government."

  "We're happy to be able to help," Dante said.

  "And the training program is taking off, too. People are most excited about that. And so am I."

  "Magdalene is going to do big things. I can smell it," Dante said.

  "Yeah, yeah, okay, now what about the Anubis Society?" Victor said, as he pushed my report to the side.

  "Glad you asked," I replied. I opened up my laptop and pushed play on the software that linked up to the recordings I had collected from the mansion.

  "Now, I've gotta tell you, the batteries on these devices really only last about a week, so I doubt we get much more than what we've already heard. But I think we've heard a great deal."

  At first there was static, but shortly the voices filled the conference room.

  .

  Yeah, they're going to the National Life Lab. Bethesda, like a block from NIH. No, the other side, by the library. Right. No, he's sleeping peacefully most of the time. He only fights when the morphine is low in his system.

  "I'm pretty sure that was about Orlando," I said. Victor nodded.

  .

  What are we going to do about Malcolm?

  There's nothing to do. He's loyal to us. Let him eat how he wants.

  He's going to get us in trouble one day.

  I doubt it.

  .

  "That was about Malcolm. As far as I can tell, he's the muscle. Chief of security at night."

  "Go on," Victor said.

  .

  Try some.

  I'm not going to try any. Nigel will kill us if hears any of that dude's blood went missing before it got to National Life.

  Just take a sip.

  No!

  I heard if you drink it, you can walk in the sunlight for a little while.

  And I heard if you drink their blood, you get addicted worse than crystal meth. No, thank you.

  .

  "I'm not sure who those people were," I admitted. "But the g
uy sounded black to me. Maybe from around here. And the woman had a very slight accent. Can't tell from where. Anyway, we got bits and pieces from a lot of conversations, maybe from ten different people. I'm sure more live in the house. But the key players seem to be Nigel, Cassandra, Malcolm, and the main two servants—the black guy and the girl."

  "This…" Dante began, and then he sighed. "This actually seems like really good information."

  "You sound sad about it," Victor teased. "What's the matter, didn't think Justin could deliver? I had total faith in him."

  "Oh, shut up," Dante said.

  "Can we use this?" I asked expectantly. "Can we somehow use this information to help break Orlando out? He is in there, in the mansion. Like, right now."

  "Yes. He is." Victor nodded. "But you have to understand, if we just go in there with wooden stakes blazing, it could start a war."

  "Fuck war, that's your brother! If there's a war, then they started it! I don't get it, why are you guys so timid around this issue? If it was my brother, I would have been broken him out."

  "There are just some things you don't understand," Dante said. "There's a whole world you still don't know about. An order to things. If we upset the balance, it could mean the end of us."

  "You're talking to me like I'm a baby. I did all this for you—for both of you—and now you're just sitting on the information? Jesus Christ."

  I slammed my laptop shut, stood up, and looked out the window.

  "Calm your nerves, Son of Adam," Victor said. "You've done a lot for us, and we appreciate it. But just try to forget everything and let us handle the rest."

  "What? Oh hell no. Whatchu think this is?"

  "Listen!" Victor's voice grew loud and he came next to me, right into my ear.

  "For whatever reason, we can't hypnotize you into forgetting. And we've put a lot of trust in you so far. This is about as much appreciation as I can show you. But at this point, we have to talk to Babarinde next. I have to follow his instructions. Not yours."

  "Then do it!" I yelled back.

  "Justin, back off," Dante said. "Please."

  "I'm not afraid of either of you," I said, storming out of the room. Victor followed, brushing past me as he sped out of the door. The force of his run threw me off balance and I fell to the floor.