Her gates rolled open.
Towering forty floors above Ojodu Grammar School stood Bale Construction Limited.
Or Bale Construction Company.
Depends on how much corporate sugarcoating she was serving that day.
The building herself was a middle-class generating factory.
People entered hopeful.
The higher your office, the higher your paycheck.
Simple.
Elegant.
Slightly evil.
Lanre entered the elevator beside Tony, who wore a washed-out blue shirt, black jeans, and bathroom slippers. A cheaper version of Lanre's own outfit.
Tony was Lanre's go-to man for tedious work. Reliable. Childhood friend too. Their families were close enough that if Tony stole from him, both mothers would probably appear from nowhere and beat accountability back into existence.
Lanre reached into his pocket and handed him a crumpled ₦2000 note.
"For data."
Tony's grin appeared instantly.
"Oga, I appreciate."
Lanre nodded.
Wouldn't hurt adding another leash.
The elevator climbed past the tenth floor.
"Boss..." Tony muttered quietly. "E be like say this thing go require power."
"Chukwu is your boss," Lanre corrected. "I'm just the archaeologist."
Tony snorted.
"No be oga Chukwu dey carry us today."
Lanre glanced sideways.
"...Where is Chukwu?"
Tony scratched the back of his neck.
"E talk say where we dey go too far."
Lanre exhaled slowly.
"Don't tell him anything about today."
A pause.
"I'll take care of you and your boys."
Tony's eyes widened slightly.
"Ehen."
He pointed immediately.
"Na why you be oga nau!!."
Ding.
The elevator doors opened onto the thirty-seventh floor.
Lanre stepped out slowly.
The hallway alone looked expensive enough to charge rent.
He found several of his fellow archeologist
Pacing about. Conversation died the moment he stepped in. A few clenched their jaws, others didn't look his way
"Hail the first blood" they chorused.
It was a f*****g greeting
Who said they should f*****g greet him
Greetings? Why?
Hail what exactly?
"Thank you."response given
Tony, walks past Lanre, fast strides leading to the door chuckling "make I join all of una" Dramatically, With absurd levels of high service, he rolled out a small red carpet from under his arm and opened the nearest office door with both hands.
"Welcome, oga."
Stared at tony, looking for any sign of authenticity.
There was none. With a grin he reached the office in minutes.
Then stopped.
Wrong office.
There were three rooms on the floor, so mistakes happened.
Still...
This one couldn't possibly belong to sane people.
Bird feathers covered the floor.
Not scattered.
Layered.
The Assistant Manager sat calmly behind his desk while a pigeon cage rested beside him. Across from him sat a thin older man dressed in northern attire, watching the room cautiously.
The Assistant Manager looked up.
"Lanre," he muttered.
Tony kicked aside a cluster of feathers near the entrance.
"Cleaner never come?"
Lanre stared around carefully then behind
"You have a Job for me sir." The door clicks shut.
The bird receives cautious strokes from the assistant manager.
"Basic observations like that..." he said softly, "...are why you were my first choice."
His eyes flicked briefly toward the client.
"Sit."
Lanre looked down at the feather-covered chair.
"The deal is good enough for me to sit in bird shit?"
"...Sit."
Lanre sat.
Unfortunately.
The Assistant Manager smiled.
"The poop is good luck. Means we have a profitable discussion ahead."
"From basic observations," Lanre replied dry "you called me here over superstition, sir."
The chair creaked beneath the Manager as he leaned left,
then right,
adjusts himself before sitting upright again.
"You weren't informed properly."
a stack of documents skates across the desk.
"We're constructing a highway through Zamfara State."
Lanre skimmed the pages.
"Our surveyors found a faster route. Since it cuts away from the original path, security concerns are lower too."
He tapped one section.
"The route passes through Yantoto Hills."
The Assistant Manager smiled faintly.
"Perfect place for birds, by the way."
The northern client suddenly straightened in his seat.
"scared place."
The Assistant Manager nodded patiently.
"Our client claims it's the resting ground of a deity."
Lanre's eyes narrowed slightly.
"And you want me to confirm it?"
"We want you to assess the legitimacy of the claims."
A pause.
"If it proves true, give the order the stop constructions."
"Carefully exume the deity's grave, I mean no explosives and—".
Tony's phone suddenly rang.
A loud Fuji ringtone exploded through the office.
Everyone turned.
Tony slapped both hands over the phone instantly and shuffled into the corner like a disgraced child carrying the full burden of collective embarrassment.
Lanre sighed.
"I appreciate the offer, sir, but-"
"ME WANT LANRE!"
The client spoke suddenly.
Strong accent. Broken English.
But very clear intent.
The Assistant Manager raised both hands quickly.
"Hausa," he explained with a smile. "English isn't his strongest language."
The client pointed aggressively at Lanre again.
"Lanre solution me solution."
The room became quiet.
Lanre felt something shift unpleasantly inside his head.
The voices stirred immediately.
No.
Another voice:
Go back.
Then louder.
NO.
A sharp pressure stabbed through his skull.
ARGH-
The arm rest squeezes under his grip
The Assistant Manager continued speaking, oblivious.
"Nobody senses supernatural disturbances as accurately as you."
He stood slowly and picked up the bird cage.
"You've boxed yourself in lately, Lanre."
The pigeon stared blankly through the bars.
"You need to spread your wings."
The Assistant Manager opened the cage door.
The bird refused to leave.
Lanre flicked a finger toward it.
Nothing.
"My family needs me trapped," Lanre muttered. "Fosters availability."
The Assistant Manager smiled strangely.
"Your grandmother told me you've been too available."
He walked toward the window.
Opened it.
Then casually flung the entire cage outside.
Pigeon included.
Tony gasped.
Lanre blinked.
The Assistant Manager dusted his hands together twice.
The client nodded enthusiastically.
"Lanre solution me solution."
The voices screamed now.
NO.
DON'T.
GO BACK.
Lanre slowly looked upward.
His head pounded.
Every instinct inside him twisted violently against this job.
Which meant there was probably something waiting for him there.
Something ancient and connected.
If a deity can be buried, then the supernatural can be laid to rest.
Since that's the case a living curse can....
Lanre swallowed carefully.
"...How long will it be?"
Things were said, Contracts signed, Hands shook and the meeting ended.
Lanre and Tony stepped out of the office escaping the poultry.
"Tony! Come, show face!"
The Assistant Manager's voice echoed from inside.
He slowly turned, sighed, then shut the office door.
Ping.
Lanre's tablet chimed.
He checked the screen while waiting for the elevator.
Mostly pictures.
Very few words.
Images of Charity and Dara painting nails together.
Not finger nails.
Actual nails.
Metal ones.
Lanre lips spread not over commiting as he scrolled.
Then another message caught his eye.
Earlier. From the Assistant Manager.
Irrespective of today's conclusions, destroy the deity's sacred grounds.
Lanre lowered the tablet slowly.
Tilted his head back toward the ceiling.
Inhaled deeply.
At that exact moment, Tony emerged from the office behind him with both hands clasped behind his neck.
Same exhausted expression.
Same inhale.
Both men stood silently for a second.
Then exhaled together.
"Wahala be like..." They muttered.
The elevator doors opened.
"What did AM want?" Lanre asked.
Tony waved dismissively.
"Bird. New one."
Lanre barked out a tired laugh as Tony headed toward the staircase instead.
"We're leaving this evening," Lanre called out while stepping into the elevator.
Tony raised a thumb behind him without turning around.
Charity.... Darasimi, would be safe. As long as he remained alive.
The elevator doors slid shut.
And somewhere deep beneath he's ribs, the voices still whispered.
Go back.