Murderville 2: The Epidemic (13 page)

NINE

THE SOUNDS OF PROPELLERS AND PLANES TAKING
off on the runway sounded as Po and Liberty stood outside of the airport. Rocko unloaded Liberty’s luggage and rolled it to her at the curbside. He slapped hands with Po, and they embraced.

“You sure you don’t want to roll?” Po offered to Rocko as they released the hug.

“Naw, I’m good, kid. I got to hold it down here while you’re away. I can’t leave these knuckleheads here by themselves anyway. They wouldn’t know what to do without me,” Rocko admitted as he looked around, completely aware of his surroundings.

“Yeah, you right,” Po responded thinking about the war that they had just ignited. “Lib, why don’t you go grab us a spot in line,” Po said as he looked inside of the airport. He wanted some private time with Rocko before he left the country.

“Okay,” she said as she grabbed the handle of her luggage. “See you later, Rocko,” she smiled and waved good-bye. Rocko nodded his head acknowledging Liberty and stepped closer to Po so they could talk. Po waited until Liberty was out of earshot and began to discuss business.

“That was a wild move you put down. When I said send a message, I didn’t mean to the world,” Po said through clenched teeth.

“Listen, bro, we have to show these mu’fuckas we not playing out here. We got now, we don’t care who got next. This is our turf,” Rocko stated, meaning every word that came out of his mouth.

“I understand that, but we have to move smart. The whole city is on fire now,” Po said as he looked around.

“I sent a message to them Mexican mu’fuckas and to anybody else that want to step on our toes,” Rocko said as he noticeably got heated.

“Okay, just lay low until I get back. After you run through the bricks, stay out of sight. We have to let things cool down, and on top of that we need a plug so keep your ear to the streets. We have to start shopping,” Po said. If he didn’t find another supplier he would be out of business.

“I got you,” Rock said. “You just enjoy your vacay to the motherland.”

“Yeah, I’m going to try. Liberty is really excited about going back home, and this will give me a chance to get my mind off the bullshit and relax. But when I get back, it’s back to business,” Po said as he extended his hand. Rocko shook his man’s hand.

“Say no more. Have a good trip, bro,” Rocko replied.

“Peace,” Po said as he grabbed his luggage and headed into LAX. He was on his way to Sierra Leone and away from the madness with his new love interest, Liberty.

*    *    *

After a twenty-two-hour flight they had arrived at their destination. Their plane had landed in the beautiful country of Sierra Leone, Liberty’s home. Po and Liberty looked out the window and admired the beautiful landscape. They landed in the city of Freetown, and it had an urban feel similar to any major metropolis in the States, which surprised Po. When he thought about Africa, he thought of open land and a more rural setting. The high-rise buildings and highways weren’t what he had in mind.

“It’s beautiful,” he whispered to Liberty as they both looked on.

Liberty looked at him with an emotionless expression, and then back out the window. She had mixed feelings about the country. Some of her best memories were of growing up in Africa, but her absolute worst memories were there too. She had witnessed her family get slaughtered and also it was where she had been tricked onto the
Murderville
ship many years ago. It was a bittersweet homecoming for her. However, she felt comfort knowing that Po was by her side.

They exited the plane and headed into the local airport. Liberty held on to Po’s arm tightly, feeling secure while in his presence. Po accepted the job as her protector with honor. He couldn’t deny that a part of him was falling for her. They made their way to the baggage claim, and then
through Customs to find themselves just outside of the airport where the cabbies were waiting.

Po flagged a cabdriver, and he instantly popped his trunk and went for Liberty’s bag.

“Where to, mister?” he asked with a heavy accent.

“Dunku Village . . . in Sierra Leone,” Liberty said in a shaky voice. Just saying the name of her family’s old village sent chills through her body.

“Oh no. I don’t think that’s a good idea. That is not a tourist area,” the cabbie said as he stopped in his tracks. The look of fear was plastered all over his face.

“We know. We still need to go there,” Po said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill.

“No, I don’t think you understand. That area is not controlled by the government. If you go there . . . there is no guarantee that you will come back. Let me recommend some great places in downtown Freetown,” the cabbie said as he smiled, displaying his gapped teeth.

“Maybe this will change your mind,” Po said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out another crispy one hundred-dollar bill.

“You don’t understand, sir. I wouldn’t go over there if you gave me a million dollars. It’s a concrete jungle. Let me show you something,” the cabbie said as he looked around.

“Yo, fellas. He wants to go to Dunku!” he yelled. Almost instantly all the cabbies shook their heads no and an abundance of declining offers filled the air. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to take them . . . but they were afraid. Po
looked around and couldn’t believe the protest. He looked at Liberty who looked disappointed. She really wanted to go, but the chances were looking slim.

“Make it five hundred and I will take you,” a voice came from a distance. A tall, slim man stood up from a crate while smoking a pipe. He had on a small top hat that slightly tilted to the right, and his skin was as black as tar. He walked with a cane and had a slight limp as he approached Po and Liberty. Po smiled and knew that he was the man for the job. He knew he had some spunk to him.

“Deal,” Po said as he grabbed his luggage and followed the man as he led them to his Jeep. Po helped Liberty with her bags and then into the back of the Jeep. He hopped in and before they took off the man held out his hand and rubbed the tips of his fingers and his thumb together. Po reached into his pocket and peeled off five hundred-dollar bills.

“There you go, potna,” Po said as he laid the bills in his hands.

“Thanks. My name is Serge, and I’m your tour guide for the day,” he said as he laughed at his own joke. He started up the car and pulled off. Po and Liberty viewed the city as they rode through the streets of Freetown. Beautiful black people were everywhere. They were all shades and sizes. It was a different experience for Po. About an hour into the ride, Serge broke his silence.

“So, what makes you guys want to go into Dunku?” he asked, curious why someone would want to go to such a dangerous place such as Dunku Village.

“That’s where I’m from,” Liberty answered first.

“How long has it been since you have been home?” Serge asked.

“A very, very long time,” she responded.

“Well, let me be the first to tell you: it’s not how it used to be. It’s a red zone now,” Serge explained.

“What’s a red zone?” she asked.

“That is an area where rebels frequent and recruit people to work the diamond mines. Not peacefully either. They force them into modern-day slavery. The government doesn’t interfere so it’s dog-eat-dog. It’s a total war zone with no rules,” the cabbie explained.

Po soaked up the information and began to second-guess going to the conflicted area. He looked back at Liberty, and the look in her eyes spoke a million words. She wanted to go back, and there was nothing that was going to stop her. They had come too far. Po smiled at her to give her assurance, and it was like he sent a warm shot to her heart because she instantly smiled back. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into, but he was ready for anything. He only wished that he had his strap, which would have put his mind at ease.

After a couple of hours the city surroundings began to drop off and what once were paved roads became dirt roads. Tall buildings became trees and fields. They approached an area that had small houses and narrow roads, and it all began to become more familiar to Liberty. They had just entered the village and Liberty was home. Kids were in the streets playing soccer and momentarily stopped their game
as the Jeep cruised through their village. The kids weren’t used to seeing cars so they began to chase the Jeep down the road after it passed them. They believed that the passengers were rich just because they had the privilege of riding in the vehicle. It was a beautiful scene as the kids yelled and pounded on the windows as the Jeep crept down the road at a low speed. Liberty smiled while dropping tears, remembering how she and her childhood friend used to do the same thing years ago. Once they got deeper into the village, Liberty knew exactly where they were.

“Turn right here,” she said as she pointed to the right. The visions of her father getting killed after the rebels bombarded their community appeared in her mind. She grabbed Po’s hand for comfort as she tried to erase the horrid pictures from her thoughts. However, there was no erasing them because they would be forever etched into her soul.

“Stop right here,” she yelled out as she looked at the place she was raised. It looked slightly different from what she remembered. What once was a circle of huts were now small raggedy houses. She waited for Serge to stop and quickly got out of the car, her eyes glued to the spot where her family’s hut used to be. Po followed suit and got out also.

Serge hurriedly retrieved their bags from the trunk and immediately headed on his way back to Freetown, leaving them on the curb. Liberty’s mind was racing, and she tuned everything out as she thought about her dead parents and the memories of growing up in Dunku. She never thought
she would ever see the village again, but there she was. She was home. She wanted to find her cousin, Dahlia. Liberty had no idea if she was even still alive. There was no telling what Dahlia had gone through after that fateful day they were torn from each other, but if she was still in Dunku then Liberty was determined to find her.

“What now?” Po asked as he put his hands on his hips and looked around.

“There used to be a small hostel up the road. We should see if it’s still there so we can get a room,” Liberty said as she pointed up the road and led the way. Po grabbed both of their bags and followed her.

As they made their way up the road Liberty’s sadness slowly left and joy filled her heart. She began to point out things to Po that she remembered growing up: all good memories. Po listened closely and noticed her demeanor changing slowly. He saw a spark in her eyes that he had never seen before. He immediately lost any regret for coming to Africa. That spark in Liberty’s eyes made the trip well worth it.

About a half mile down the road, the same hostel Liberty remembered was still there. It was more run-down then she remembered. In America, it would have been condemned, but in Dunku, it was a luxury. Po and Liberty got a room and dropped off their luggage. Once they entered the bare room, they noticed how small it was. It was a far cry from the Trump Tower, but Po didn’t comment on it, not wanting to be offensive. It had the bare minimum: a bed, nightstand, and a tiny, dirty bathroom.

“Wow, this place looked more glamorous from the outside as a kid. I always wondered what the rooms looked like,” Liberty said as she sat on the bed.

“I’m not complaining. I’ve slept in trap houses much worse than this,” Po lied as he set the luggage down.

Liberty watched as Po went to the bathroom and bent over the sink. He splashed water on his face. She admired his swagger. She didn’t want to, but she was kind of falling for Po. He was so gangster. He was so different from A’shai but equally as intriguing. Po was more street . . . straight from the bottom and moved like a goon, whereas A’shai moved like a boss. However, Po’s roughness was becoming sexy to Liberty. He looked over and caught her staring. “So what’s next, ma?” he asked.

“I would like to look for my cousin Dahlia,” she replied.

TEN

ON A QUEST TO FIND LIBERTY’S FAMILY,
they went about the village asking questions to see if they could find any leads. Nobody knew who she was or where to find her. She went to every surrounding home, but no one seemed to know Dahlia. They inquired about her to anyone they saw, but it was to no avail. Liberty began to get discouraged. She knew it was a long shot, but something deep inside told her that if she came back that Dahlia would be there waiting for her. There were losing sunlight and decided to head back to the hostel to get some shut-eye.

They made their way to the hostel just as the sun set. It had been a long day and they were both exhausted; sleep was the only thing on their mind. Soon after getting back to the room, it did not take long for both of them to pass out in deep slumber. Humidity and heat had a way of draining a person’s energy, and they learned that firsthand.

“Get de’ fuck up!”

Po heard the order loud as day and opened his eyes to find himself staring down the barrel of an
AK
-47 assault rifle. He realized that he was being held at gunpoint and quickly sat up, putting his hands in the air.

“Whoa! What’s going on?” Po shouted as he looked around the room and noticed five other African goons. One of them had Liberty held by gunpoint. Po’s heart dropped as he saw the tears streaming down Liberty’s face as she also had her hands up.

A man without a gun began to talk in a language that Po didn’t understand as he pointed at him. The medium-framed man stood about six foot with a strong posture. He had strong, deep facial features and a scar that ran along the entire left side of his face. Po frowned and shook his head trying to comprehend what the man was saying. He didn’t know a lick of anything other than English. However, Po knew whatever the man was saying, he was irate about it and it showed.

“I don’t understand you,” Po pleaded.

“Who sent you?” the only man without a gun asked as he stepped forward.

“No one sent me. My friend is from this village. We were looking for Dahlia . . . her cousin,” Po explained.