Blackbird

Chapter One The smell of grease and garlic hit Nia Jackson before she even made it through the screen door. "Lord have mercy, close that door before every mosquito in Missouri come in here!" Grandma Evelyn hollered from the kitchen. Nia laughed and held the peach cobbler in one hand while trying to catch the door with the other. "I'm closing it, Grandma." "You ain't closing nothing. You standing there looking confused while flies coming in my house." "Good afternoon to you too." "Mm-hmm." Grandma Evelyn Jackson stood over the stove in her flowered apron and church stockings, humming gospel music while frying chicken like she was feeding the entire neighborhood. At seventy-eight years old, she moved slower than she used to, but she still ruled her kitchen like a queen. Nobody touched her cast iron skillet. Nobody touched her greens. And nobody—not even Jesus Himself—was allowed to season her beans. Marcus sat at the table with his feet stretched out, watching football highlights on his phone. "You know she cussed me out because I put pepper in the beans?" he said. Grandma pointed a wooden spoon at him. "And I'd do it again. The Lord didn't make beans so your ignorant behind could ruin them." Emily Carter burst out laughing. "I swear, Miss Evelyn, you're my favorite person." "Baby, don't let these fools make you think I'm nice." Emily and Nia worked together at Blaze District Apparel. At least, that's what everybody believed. Emily had become family over the years. Grandma already claimed her as another granddaughter. "Emily, baby, go get them rolls out the oven." "Yes, ma'am." "And Marcus, take your ugly feet off my chair." Marcus grinned. "You know you love me." "The devil loves sinners too." Nia sat down and smiled. This was peace. No deadlines. No emails. No lies. Just Sunday dinner at Grandma's house. And for one dangerous second— Nia forgot who she really was. Emily froze. Completely. The smile disappeared from her face. Her eyes shifted toward the front window. "Nia." Her voice was quiet. Too quiet. "They're here." Marcus shot to his feet. "No." His face turned pale. "No, no, no." Without another word, he bolted toward the front door. "Marcus!" Grandma yelled. Nia pushed her chair back too fast. One leg caught the rug. She hit the floor hard. By the time she got up, Emily already had a pistol in her hand. Grandma blinked. "Emily, baby, why in God's name you got a gun?" "Miss Evelyn, get down." Nia reached the back door. And froze. Four men in black tactical gear moved along the side of the house with rifles. One raised his weapon. Everything inside Nia changed. Target. Distance. Movement. Timing. She heard the click behind her. Grandma Evelyn stood there. Not screaming. Not scared. Holding an old Smith & Wesson revolver she'd kept hidden behind the flour canister for forty years. "Oh, Lord Jesus," Grandma said, shaking her head. "I knew this girl wasn't just selling hoodies." Glass exploded. The first shot shattered the kitchen window. Grandma ducked and fired. Boom. One of the men screamed. "Damn right!" Grandma shouted. "I love Jesus, but I ain't meeting Him today!" Nia stared. "Grandma?" Grandma fired again. "Baby, if you're fixing to ask questions, do it after we kill these sons of bitches." Another round ripped through the wall. Emily fired twice. One attacker dropped behind the fence. And somewhere out in the yard— Someone laughed. Not one of the attackers. Someone watching. Someone who had waited twenty-five years for Nia Jackson to come home. The sound made the hair on the back of Nia's neck stand up. Because she knew that laugh. But that was impossible. The man who laughed had died. Or at least— That's what she'd been told. Another round shattered the kitchen window. Glass sprayed across the floor. Nia moved. Not panicked. Not scared. Changed. Emily recognized it immediately. The smile. The breathing. The eyes. Blackbird. The woman sitting at Grandma Evelyn's table was gone. Something colder had taken her place. The first man came around the side of the house. He never made it to the porch. Nia fired. The man crumpled before his finger even reached the trigger. A second shape appeared near the fence. Another shot. Gone. Grandma ducked behind the counter. "Well praise the Lord!" Boom. Her revolver barked. "Damn, I still got it." Emily fired through the broken window. "Three more!" The front door burst open. Marcus stormed inside carrying the canvas bag. Blood covered his shirt. Grandma screamed. "Marcus!" "It ain't mine." He dropped the bag onto the floor. "Everybody still breathing?" "Mostly," Grandma answered. "Good." Marcus unzipped the bag. Rifles. Handguns. Magazines. Emily laughed. "Marcus, you brought Christmas." "Just another Sunday." Bullets tore through the wall. Marcus slid behind the couch. "Two at the shed." Nia was already moving. She reached underneath the sink. Pulled out the pistol she'd hidden there years ago. Grandma blinked. "What in the hell?" Nia reached behind the refrigerator. Another weapon. Grandma's mouth fell open. "Girl, you got guns in my kitchen?" Boom. She fired again. "Why didn't you tell me?" Another shot. "Never mind. I like surprises." The four of them moved like they'd done this before. Emily covered the hallway. Marcus watched the windows. Grandma guarded her kitchen like it was sacred ground. And Nia— Nia hunted. A man rushed the back porch. Wrong decision. Another body dropped. Silence. Then— More engines. Everybody froze. Three black SUVs rolled to a stop. Marcus cursed. "Aw, hell." Emily's face changed. "No." Grandma looked over the counter. "Company?" A voice echoed from outside. "Nia Jackson." Nobody answered. "Nia Jackson, come outside." Marcus smiled. "Bold." Another voice. "We only want Blackbird." Grandma frowned. "Blackbird?" Nia's eyes narrowed. Emily whispered, "Not yet." The voice continued. "Bring her out." Grandma stood up. "Bring who out?" Boom. Her revolver answered for her. "Y'all done lost your minds if you think I'm handing over my grandbaby." Marcus burst out laughing. "That's my grandma." The voice outside went silent. Then— Movement. Men approaching. Slow. Careful. Nia looked toward the hallway. "Everybody move." Grandma frowned. "Move where?" Nia smiled. "Grandma…" "Yeah?" "I'm gonna buy you another house." Grandma squinted. "What?" Marcus looked up. Then he started laughing. Emily's eyes widened. "Oh, no." "Oh yes." Nia grabbed Grandma's arm. "Trust me." "What did you do?" "Something expensive." The four of them disappeared through the storm cellar entrance. Behind them— Sunday dinner remained untouched. Chicken still frying. Peach cobbler on the counter. Pictures on the wall. Grandma's favorite recliner. Forty years of memories. The men outside reached the porch. One hand touched the doorknob. And the world erupted. The ground shook. The windows vanished. Fire rolled into the sky. The blast echoed for miles. Inside the storm cellar, dust rained from the ceiling. Grandma Evelyn stared at Nia. Then looked upward. Then back at Nia. "Lord Jesus." Silence. "You blew up my damn house." Nia smiled. "I'm sorry, Grandma." Grandma nodded. "Baby, you better be rich." Marcus laughed so hard he almost fell over. And somewhere above them— Someone watched the flames. And smiled. Because after twenty-five years— Blackbird had finally come home. Grandma Evelyn repeated herself. "You blew up my goddamn house." Marcus laughed so hard he nearly fell against the tunnel wall. Nia smiled. "I'm sorry, Grandma." "My pictures." "We can replace them." "My hats." "We can replace those too." "My church dresses." "We'll buy new ones." Grandma sighed. "Lord Jesus." Then she shrugged. "I hated that wallpaper anyway." The four of them continued down the tunnel. Smoke and fire behind them. Silence ahead. Emily's radio crackled. "Bluebird, this is Angel. Extraction point secured." Emily reached for it. "Copy." "Two minutes." "Any tails?" "Negative." "Good." Nia smiled. "Still bossy?" Angel laughed over the radio. "Still blowing up houses?" "Apparently." Marcus frowned. "Who's Angel?" Nia looked over her shoulder. "Remember Angel Ramirez?" "The girl from high school?" "The one that dated everybody but me?" Emily laughed. "No, genius. The one that dated you." Marcus stopped. "Oh, hell." Nia grinned. "Yeah." "The girl that used to cry during scary movies." "The same girl that almost stabbed me because I stepped on her cat's tail?" "Same Angel." Marcus blinked. "No way." The tunnel door opened. Moonlight poured in. The black SUV sat waiting. And leaning against it— Angel. Grandma stopped. "No." Angel smiled. "Miss Evelyn." "The little Mexican girl." Angel laughed. "I ain't little anymore." Grandma hugged her immediately. "Baby, look at you." Marcus stood frozen. Angel smiled. "Hey, Marcus." Marcus shook his head. "Hell no." "What?" "You?" "What about me?" "You used to cry over dead goldfish." Angel grinned. "And now I carry C-4." Grandma paused. "You carry what?" "Nothing, Miss Evelyn." "Mhmm." Everybody loaded into the SUV. Nia drove. Emily sat beside her. Angel sat in the back with Grandma. Marcus sat across from them. Four hours later, they crossed into Colorado. Ten hours after that— Mountains. Snow. Nothing but darkness and stars. Finally, Nia pulled off onto a dirt road. Marcus frowned. "A cabin?" Nia smiled. "No." The mountain opened. Marcus sat upright. "No damn way." Steel doors. Underground. Lights. The SUV rolled inside. Grandma blinked. "Jesus." The doors shut behind them. And there they were. Three women waiting. The first sat in front of twelve computer screens. Dark-skinned. Braids. Glasses. Thirty-six. Renee. Everybody called her Eyes. She smiled. "Boss." The second woman stood over a giant map table. Asian. Forty. Short hair. Tattooed arms. Sophia. Code name Atlas. She looked up. "Welcome home." The third woman sat cleaning a rifle. White. Thirty-two. Red hair. Covered in tattoos. Jess. Code name Armor. Without looking up she said, "You blew up another house, didn't you?" Nia smiled. "Maybe." Jess shook her head. "Third one this year." Grandma frowned. "Third?" Everybody went quiet. Jess froze. "Oh." Grandma looked at Nia. "Third?" Nia cleared her throat. "Technically—" "THIRD?" Angel burst out laughing. Emily covered her face. Marcus looked horrified. Grandma shook her head. "Jesus Christ." Then she looked around. Women. Maps. Computers. Weapons. Screens. Surveillance. Enough gear to start a war. And in the center of it all— Her granddaughter. Grandma Evelyn smiled. "Baby." "Yeah?" "You got your own Charlie's Angels." Everyone laughed. Then Renee's smile disappeared. "Boss." Everybody turned. The room became silent. Renee pointed to one of the screens. Satellite footage. The fire. Grandma's house. But it wasn't the flames that bothered her. It was the woman standing in them. Watching. Not burned. Not afraid. Watching. Grandma Evelyn stopped breathing. The smile vanished from her face. Her coffee cup slipped from her hand. And for the first time since the shooting started— Grandma looked scared. Not worried. Not surprised. Scared. Nia saw it immediately. "Grandma?" The old woman whispered two words. "No." Nobody understood. Except Grandma. Because she knew exactly who the woman standing in those flames was. And she hadn't seen her daughter— In thirty-four years. Chapter Two The steel doors groaned shut behind the SUV. Marcus was still staring. "No damn way." Grandma Evelyn blinked twice. "Jesus." The SUV stopped. Before anybody could get out, the bay doors opened and three women came running. "Boss!" Renee reached the driver's side first. Nia climbed out and immediately bumped fists with her. Same handshake. Same rhythm. "Still ugly?" Nia asked. Renee grinned. "Still blowing shit up?" "Happens." Sophia stepped forward next. She didn't do handshakes. She hugged Nia instead. "Welcome home." Nia smiled. "Miss me?" Sophia smirked. "For about fifteen minutes." Jess stood behind them holding a gun case. She tossed it to Nia. "Present." Nia caught it. Raised an eyebrow. "No." Jess grinned. "Oh yes." Nia opened the case. Turquoise. Matte finish. Silver accents. Beautiful. Her favorite. Nia laughed. "You got me another one?" Jess shrugged. "You blew up the last one." Angel nearly choked laughing. Marcus frowned. "The last one?" Grandma turned slowly. "The last one?" Everybody froze. Jess whispered, "Oh, shit." Nia cleared her throat. "Technically—" "Girl." Grandma pointed. "We're gonna talk about how many houses you've blown up." Angel burst out laughing. Emily covered her face. Marcus looked horrified. Jess raised both hands. "Not my fault. I just do arts and crafts." Grandma shook her head. "Lord Jesus." Then she looked around. Computers. Maps. Weapons. Women. Surveillance screens. Enough ammunition to overthrow a country. And standing in the middle of it all— Her granddaughter. Grandma smiled. "Baby." "Yeah, Grandma?" "You got your own Charlie's Angels." Everybody laughed. Then— Renee's smile disappeared. "Boss." Satellite footage. The fire. Grandma's house. And standing in the flames— The woman. Grandma's coffee slipped from her hand. Crash. The room froze. Grandma whispered, "No." Then she looked around the room. "Everybody out." Jess blinked. "Huh?" "I said out." Angel looked around. "She's throwing us out of our own damn house." Renee snorted. "Been here five minutes and she running operations." Sophia grabbed Jess by the arm. "Come on." Angel smiled. "I like her." Jess picked up her rifle. "Me too." One by one, the women left. Emily kissed Nia's forehead. "Call me if you need me." Door shut. And now— Only Grandma. Marcus. And Nia. The room stayed silent. Grandma Evelyn couldn't take her eyes off the screen. Her lips trembled. Marcus looked from the monitor to his grandmother. "You know her?" No answer. "Grandma?" Still nothing. Nia stepped closer. "Who is she?" Grandma slowly sat down. For the first time in her life— She looked old. Not tired. Broken. Renee reached for the keyboard. "I can pull the image up closer." "No." Grandma's voice was barely a whisper. "Leave it." Nia frowned. "Grandma... who is that?" Grandma looked at her granddaughter. Her eyes filled with tears. "I prayed I'd never see her face again." Marcus exchanged a confused look with Nia. "What are you talking about?" Grandma wiped her eyes. "When your mama disappeared..." Nia interrupted. "You told us she died." "I believed she had." She looked back at the screen. "I buried a coffin." The room went still. Marcus shook his head. "Grandma, you're not making any sense." "I know." She stared at the woman standing in the flames. "I don't know why she's alive." "I don't know who she became." "And I don't know why she's here." Her voice hardened. "But I know one thing." She pointed at the screen. "If she's standing with the people who came for you..." She looked directly at Nia. "...she is not here to save anybody." Nobody spoke. Grandma closed her eyes. Then whispered the words she'd hoped she'd never have to say. "My daughter is the enemy." Nia frowned. "Your daughter?" Grandma looked at her. "Sit down." "Both of you." Marcus pulled out a chair. Nia remained standing. Grandma took a slow breath. "There's something I've kept from both of you your entire lives." "And after tonight..." "I don't have the right to keep it anymore.

To Be Continued........