One Blood (21 page)

Karen didn’t get the joke but let it go.

“
That’s nasty, Abby,” Kristopher said, scrunching up his face. “Isn’t that incest? That’s disgusting.”

“
Yes, I guess it was incest,” Abby replied.

“
Incest is nasty,” Karen agreed, wrinkling up her face. She thought incest was a kind of bug.

“
Anyway, Melinda and Isaac was gettin' together fo’ maybe two or three months befoe anyone found out,” Abby continued. “Actually, I tink someone tattled, probably one a’ Melinda’s jealous suitors. You can imagine what happened when ole Luc found out his daughter was creepin’ around with one of his slaves.”

“
He killed him,” Kristopher said in a serious tone that gave Karen chills.

Abby nodded and continued. “Luc had to handle da situation delicately because he didn’t want anyone findin’ out about his daughta’s indiscretions. Poor Isaac didn’t know what hit him. Da angry mob dragged him from da port one day while he was workin’. Dey dragged him all da way to da Lafitte Plantation, beatin’ and cursin’ him—calling him a rapist.”

“
Issac just let them take him?” Kristopher asked. “Why didn’t he fight back or tell the truth about what was going on?”

“
Because he was outnumbered and had his brotha and sista to worry ‘bout,” Abby replied. “Luc Lafitte didn’t even know dem kids was also his chillun or dat dey was related to Isaac, and Issac wanted it to stay dat way. Da lynch mob wanted to hang him right away, but Luc had otha plans. He told da men to tie Isaac to da tree fo’ da time bein’ ‘cause he wanted him to suffa befoe he died.”

Abby looked at Karen and said, “Karen, I don’t tink you should be hearin’ dis part. Why don’t you go play over in da sand pit?”

“
No ma’am, I’m okay. Right, Kristopher? Tell her I’m okay.”

“
She’s alright, Abby.”

Abby looked skeptical but said, “Alright now, chillun, I’ll go on but ya’ll got to promise not to say anything to Missus Lafitte, okay. We got a deal?”

“
Deal,” Karen and Kristopher said in unison.

Abby stopped pushing the swing and divided up the last of the tea. “Follow me, chillun.”

She led them around to the other side of the large live oak. “Dey tied Isaac to dis tree right around da trunk here and proceeded to do some awful, horrible tings to da poor chile.”

“
Like what?” Kristopher asked.

Karen saw a strange look in his eyes.

“
For starters, dey whipped him senseless. Den dey dug up red anthills all around da yard, coated Isaac with honey, and dumped fire ants on him. Dis was after dey had castrated…uhh cut off his…nevermind.”

“
It’s okay, Abby,” Kristopher said. “Karen doesn’t know what that means. Do you, Karen?”

Karen didn’t know what castration meant, but that didn’t stop her from getting a horrible case of the squirmies. “I hate fire ants. Icky, icky, icky bugs…I hate them.”

“
I know, chile,” Abby comforted. “I know.”

“
So what happened next?” Kristopher asked.

“
Well, dey let da ants have dere fun with Isaac fo’ a while, den dey doused dem off him wit’ a bucket of scaldin’ hot water and left him fo’ da night. He shoulda died from da shock of it all, but all da years of labor had made him very tough. Lata dat night, Melinda came to him, feelin’ guilty I guess, and told him dat she would not let him die, dat she had a plan. She said dat she loved him and was pregnant wit’ his chile and would save him.

“
Da next day came—Melinda’s eighteenth birthday, by da way—and Isaac learned dat he would be hung from da very same tree after breakfast. I imagine dat at dis point he couldn’t wait for it to be ova’, but it was far from ova’.

“
Isaac found out about Melinda’s grand plan a few minutes befoe his life ended. Dere was a big crowd gathered here and Isaac was strung up prob’ly right around here.” Abby pointed to the second layer of branches. “He was placed on a horse and made to face da crowd. Luc Lafitte, dressed in his French captain’s wear, stood to da side of da horse and addressed da crowd.

“ ‘
Ladies and Gentlemen,’ Luc began. ‘This slave has been accused of raping my beautiful daughter, Melinda. As the owner of this land and founder of this township, I am exercising the authority vested in me by God, and am hereby punishing him to death by hanging for his crimes.’ “

Karen giggled a little at Abby’s angry Frenchman impersonation.

Abby wasn’t smiling, however. “So da story goes dat Luc Lafitte turnt roun’ and looked at Isaac, his illegit’mate son, and asked, ‘do you have any last words?’

“
Isaac looked down on da fatha dat was never dere for him and said, ‘You may kill me today, but da stain of yo’ guilt will burn in yo’ soul foreva. He who kills his own shall be cursed ‘til his death.’ “

“
Luc had messed wit’ da wrong one. Isaac’s motha was what dey call a
mambo
in voodoo. She had taught him da way of da left hand.”

“
What’s a
mambo
?” Kristopher asked the exact question on Karen’s mind. She hoped Abby would explain what voodoo was, too.

“
Sorry, chillun, I forgot who I was talkin’ to for a second. Voodoo is a religion, just like bein’ Catholic, but it’s practiced by people from Haiti. Haiti is an island south of Louisiana, Karen.”

“
Oh, okay,” Karen replied, trying to imagine where it could be. She resolved to look it up on Daddy’s maps as soon as the story was over.

“
What’s the ‘way of the left hand’?” Kristopher asked.

“
Well, it’s what you would prob’ly call black magic. But magic don’t have no color, and if it did, it wouldn’t be black. Isaac’s motha was in touch wit’ da earth and da spirits, and taught Isaac in dese ways as well.”

Kristopher nodded with understanding. Karen was lost, but wanted to hear the rest of the story.

Abby continued, “When Isaac said dese words, Luc Lafitte looked at da bleeding, condemned man atop da horse, saw his own eyes starin’ back at’m, and hesitated. Den a blood-curdlin’ scream from da roof of da big house broke up dat father and son moment. Everyone turnt to see what da commotion was, and what a sight it must’a been.

“
Melinda Lafitte was screamin’ at da top of her lungs from da roof. Screamin’ and standin’ naked as da day she was born. Obviously, Luc Lafitte had no idea what was goin’ on, and rushed closer to da house.

“
Melinda screamed, ‘Father please, I love him, don’t kill him, I love him!’” over and over. She was threatenin’ dat if Isaac was killt, she would kill herself.

“
Luc quickly yelled for servants to get her down as he stared up at his daughter, scared to deaf. Da man who had been holdin’ da horse steady all dis time let go of da reins to see what all da commotion was about. While Luc was tryin’ to calm Melinda down, da horse, startled by all da action, bolted. Isaac let out a short scream dat was cut off by his neck snappin’.

“
Melinda watched in horror as Isaac swung and twitched in da wind. Den she threw herself from da roof—killin’ herself and her unborn chile.”

“
Wow!” Kristopher said with noticeable admiration. “I can’t believe all that really happened right here!”

“
Yes chillun,” Abby said solemnly. “Da descendants of Luc Lafitte are doomed to be haunted by Isaac and Melinda. Dere first victim was actually Luc Lafitte. You see, he killt himself exactly three days after Melinda’s suicide. Da servants found him lyin’ naked at da foot of dis tree one mohnin’. He was holdin’ a revolver in his right hand and a tear-stained slip of paper in his left.”

Abby touched the old tree gently and said, “Come on chillun, dat’s enough for today.”

“
What!” Kristopher exclaimed. “Come on Abby, you gotta tell us what that letter said. Pleeease?”

“
Okay, okay,” Abby said after more pleading from Kristopher and Karen. “It was some kinda weird suicide note. On da back were two words: Melinda Weeps.”

Karen backed away from the tree as if she might get infected if she got too close. She didn’t think she would ever think of that tree the same way again.

Abby must have noticed the concern on her face because she quickly said, “It’s a good ting da curse died off well befoe ya’ll was born, cuz you see dere’s something strange about dat house, a pattern of sorts. Many Lafitte chillun dat lived in dis house never lived past dey eighteenth birthday.”

* * * * *

Chapter Thirty-One

Monday

Lake City, LA

Trapped, Amir ducked and ran back into the supply room to get more weapons to make his last stand, but there was no ammo anywhere inside the closet. The masked attackers were inside the school. Amir heard the unmistakable hiss of teargas grenades going off, as glass shattered all around him.

Gas filtered through the door.

Shit!

Amir slid his cell phone inside a hidden compartment in his cargo pants and fingered the seven-inch stainless steel switchblade he kept for emergencies. His reaction to the gas was violent and immediate. He ripped the sleeves off his t-shirt and covered his mouth, already tasting metal in the back of his throat. His nostrils burned, as if he had snorted ethyl alcohol.

Moving from the direct path of the gas, Amir closed his eyes, started spitting, and blowing his nose like he’d learned in boot camp. He panted, taking in short shallow swallows of acid air. Soon doubled over, he vomited up his breakfast.

Four masked men charged into the room and in moments he was disarmed, handcuffed, and being marched through the ruins of his failed operation. The men moved with military precision. Once they made it outside, Amir surveyed the destruction through sandpaper eyes.

The air was thick with smoke, the old school completely obliterated. The yard was littered with scattered bodies. His captors stepped over the corpses of their fallen comrades and Amir’s men without batting an eye. At least Zire and Reem had taken some of the motherfuckers with them.

Two men standing before a camouflaged Hummer H-2 led Amir out of the compound and shoved him into the backseat of an unmarked black Crown Victoria.

Who the fuck are these guys? Who sent them?

The handcuffs were the only thing preventing Amir from choking one of the men in the front. If he could just get one arm free.

One of the masked men spoke through an earpiece and microphone, presumably to the others. “Timber Pack…this is Red Wolf…Jackal acquired. Proceeding to drop-zone.”

Drop-zone? Jackal? What the fuck is this, the Nature Channel?

Amir discretely struggled with the plastic, double lock cuffs, most likely made by Monadnock, national sponsor of police brutality everywhere.

The only reason I’m still alive is because they need information.

Red Wolf mumbled a few other words and signaled the troops to move out. Abrupt car movement tossed Amir backward, temporarily derailing his escape efforts.

“
Sit up,” Red Wolf demanded without taking his eyes off the road.

Amir righted himself. The caravan drove by the abandoned train district. Each car followed two vehicle lengths behind the other. He wondered again about the identity of these men. They were clearly not cops, and were too precise to be Feds.

Who does that leave? SWAT? Snake?

The answer became readily apparent.

They got to Jhonnette.

She was the only person who knew Amir was in Lake City, although she didn’t know where they’d been keeping the girl or how to get to the money. That’s where Red Wolf and Anvil Head came in.

Did she give up Snake, too?

If so, Lincoln was in for a world of trouble.

How could I have been so stupid?

Doubt crept into Amir’s mind for the first time since embarking on his mission to save Lincoln. Why hadn’t he been able to move on after his mother’s death? Why hadn’t he contacted the authorities instead of rounding up a gang of thugs to bust Lincoln out of prison by any means necessary?

The answer was obvious.

Dad.

His father had preached his entire life about how a black man in America had to live by his own laws and create his own rules because the “system” was built for the black man to fail. Amir had grown up with a romanticized vision of what his father and the Black Mob stood for. Now that the veil was lifting, he could see his father for what he really was—an angry black man who’d taken the eye for an eye mentality to insane lengths. This revelation surprised Amir as much as it hurt.

Now, here he was, ringleader of his own Black Mob, attempting to prosper on the pain and suffering of others. He had kidnapped an innocent teenage girl and turned her into a monster. If his mother were still alive, Amir would not be able to look her in the eyes. On top of that, he was probably going to end up dead or in jail for his trouble. What a way to honor her final wish.

Red Wolf’s chatter brought Amir back to his predicament.

He listened intently. Something was going on at St. Mary’s Hospital in the center of town.