Ride To Riches

CHAPTER FOUR: City of Speed

The journey to Lagos started early.

It was before sunrise.

Dark clouds were over the sky and cold wind was blowing through the empty streets of Abuja.

The city was still sleeping under the streetlights that were slowly fading away.

Tunde was standing beside a bus with a small black bag hanging from his shoulder.

This bag had everything he owned.

There were two shirts, one pair of jeans, some money he had saved and his fathers silver chain.

That was all he had.

His mother was standing in front of him trying to be strong even though she was scared.

Femi was holding onto her arm and Savage was leaning on the roadside railing with her arms crossed trying to look like she was not emotional.

Musa was standing nearby smoking a cigarette without saying a word.

Nobody knew what to say.

They all knew that Tunde was not just going to Lagos.

He was going to start a life.

His mother gently fixed his jacket.

"You can still change your mind, " she said.

Tunde forced a smile.

"If I change my mind now I will be poor forever " he said.

His mother looked at him with pain in her eyes.

"That is not true " she said.

Tunde felt like it was true.

The pain in her eyes got deeper.

"You sound like you are carrying the weight of the world, " she said.

Tunde looked away.

"Maybe I am, " he said.

Femi suddenly hugged him tightly.

"Promise me you will come back " she said.

Her voice was so innocent that it almost broke Tunde's heart.

Tunde slowly put his arms around her.

"I promise, " he said.

Even as he said it he was not sure.

Life has been really unpredictable lately.

Many dangerous people had come into his life too quickly.

Savage stepped forward.

"You better become rich, " she said softly.

"I am tired of this place, " she added.

Tunde laughed quietly.

"There is the Savage I know, " he said.

Her face weakened a little.

Then she hugged him too.

Musa finally came forward after throwing his cigarette.

"You can still run away, " he said quietly.

Tunde knew what Musa meant.

Musa was scared of Big Joe.

Everyone was scared of the Black Circuit.

Because the more Tunde got into racing the more dangerous his life became.

The bus driver shouted loudly.

"Last call to get on the bus!"

Passengers were rushing to get on the bus and the engines were roaring impatiently.

Tunde looked at his family one time.

Then he got on the bus.

As the bus slowly pulled away from the roadside he watched his family disappear into the Abuja streets.

His mother was standing silently.

Femi was wiping away tears.

Savage was trying to look strong.

Musa was staring at the ground.

Suddenly Tunde felt fear.

Real fear.

Not fear of racing.

Not fear of violence.

Fear of never going home to the same person again.

Hours later the highways leading to Lagos were full of life.

There were cars everywhere. Skyscrapers rose above the city like giants made of glass and steel.

Horns were honking over the place.

Yellow buses were moving quickly between vehicles and street traders were walking through the traffic selling drinks, newspapers and phone chargers.

Tunde stared silently through the bus window.

Lagos felt alive.

It was faster, bigger, richer and more dangerous.

The city had an energy that Abuja did not have.

An energy that was built on ambition.

The kind of energy that could swallow people whole.

The bus finally stopped near a terminal.

Passengers were getting off the bus into the heat and noise of the city.

Tunde stepped onto Lagos soil

The air smelled different.

It smelled of petrol, smoke, rain and money.

His phone was vibrating.

It was a number.

He answered it.

"You have arrived, " a calm voice said.

It was Victor Blanco.

Tunde looked around carefully.

"How did you know I arrived?" he asked.

Victor said, "In my world information spreads quickly."

Tunde remained silent.

Victor continued, "A car is waiting for you outside the terminal."

Before Tunde could respond the line went dead.

He frowned slightly. Moved carefully through the crowded terminal.

Then he saw it.

A black Mercedes-Benz was parked across the road.

Two men in suits were standing beside it.

One of them opened the door immediately.

"Mr. Blanco is expecting you, " he said.

Tunde hesitated briefly.

Everything about this situation felt dangerous.

He had come too far to turn back now.

He got into the car.

The vehicle pulled smoothly into Lagos traffic and skyscrapers passed outside the tinted windows.

One of the men finally spoke.

"You have a reputation in Abuja."

Tunde remained calm.

"I just drive, " he said.

The man smiled faintly.

"No drivers drive, " he said.

He looked directly at Tunde.

"Legends survive, " he added.

The conversation ended there.

Forty minutes later the Mercedes finally entered an area near Victoria Island.

Everything was luxurious.

There were hotels, expensive cars and beautiful buildings.

For a moment Tunde felt out of place.

The car stopped outside a glass building guarded by armed security.

"This is where the participants are staying, " the driver explained.

Tunde got out slowly.

Several racers were standing near the entrance already.

Some were smoking quietly. Others were laughing confidently beside expensive sports cars.

Tunde immediately noticed one thing.

These men looked nothing like street racers from Abuja.

They looked professional.

Dangerously professional.

A tall man with tattoos glanced toward Tunde. Smirked.

"This is the Abuja driver?" he asked.

Another racer laughed.

"He looks too poor to be " he said.

Tunde ignored them completely.

He had learned a lesson from the streets: never waste energy trying to prove yourself with words.

Victor Blanco suddenly appeared near the hotel entrance.

He looked elegant, calm and untouchable.

"Welcome to Lagos " he said smoothly.

Tunde folded his arms.

"You move like a politician " he said.

Victor smiled faintly.

"And you think like a street survivor " he added.

He gestured toward the building.

"Come " he said.

Inside the hotel looked almost unreal.

There were chandeliers, polished floors and expensive artwork on the walls.

Beautiful women were moving through the lobby speaking languages.

Tunde tried to hide his shock.

Victor noticed.

"You have never seen this world before " he said.

Tunde shook his head.

"No " he said.

Victor nodded slowly.

"That is why it will either change you..."

His voice lowered slightly.

".... Destroy you."

They entered an elevator together.

As the doors closed Tunde finally asked the question that was burning inside him.

"What is the Black Circuit?" he asked.

Victor remained silent for seconds.

Then he said, "It started years ago as a competition for wealthy men who enjoyed illegal racing."

The elevator continued rising.

"Over time it evolved into something " Victor added.

"How big?" Tunde asked.

Victor looked directly at him.

"Billionaires bet on these races " he said.

Tundes expression hardened slightly.

"And people die " he said.

Victor nodded.

"Yes " he said.

The elevator doors opened onto the floor.

Victor stepped forward calmly.

"Because speed makes people feel immortal " he said.

They entered a private room overlooking the city skyline.

There were massive television screens displaying racing footage from different countries.

Tunde watched silently.

Victor handed him a file.

Inside were photographs of drivers.

"These are your competitors " Victor said.

Tunde studied them carefully.

There was a racer nicknamed Ghost, a South African champion called Viper and a former Formula driver from Italy.

Many more.

Every face looked dangerous.

Victor pointed toward one photograph.

"This man won year " he said.

The picture showed a driver with cold eyes standing beside a silver Lamborghini.

"Where is he now?" Tunde asked.

Victors silence answered the question.

A strange chill moved through Tundes body.

Victor closed the file slowly.

"The Black Circuit has three phases " he said.

"Explain " Tunde said.

"The first phase tests control " Victor said.

He walked toward the glass window overlooking Lagos.

"The second phase tests endurance " he added.

He turned slowly.

"And the final phase..."

His expression darkened slightly.

"...Tests whether a driver is willing to risk death for victory."

The room became silent.

Tunde stared at the city lights

Deep inside him excitement and fear mixed together dangerously.

Victor suddenly asked, "Why do you race?"

Tunde frowned slightly.

"What?" he asked.

"Most men enter racing for fame " Victor said.

"Others do it for ego " he added.

Victor studied him carefully.

"But you..."

He stepped closer.

"...You drive like someone trying to escape something."

For a moment Tunde did not answer.

Quietly "I am trying to escape poverty " he said.

Victor nodded slowly.

"That makes you more dangerous, than the others " he said.

A knock interrupted them.

One of the security guards entered.

"Sir the preview race is beginning " he said.

Victor glanced toward Tunde.

"Perfect timing " he said.

Minutes later Tunde and Victor arrived at a racetrack that was hidden beneath an old industrial district that people did not use anymore.

The atmosphere at the racetrack was really exciting.

Crowds were screaming from the platforms above the track and music was playing loudly from big speakers.

There were cars lined up on the track with flashing lights all around them and cameras were recording everything that was happening.

This whole thing was illegal. It was also very violent but at the same time it was beautiful to watch.

Tunde just stood there staring at the racetrack without saying a word.

This was not any ordinary underground racing event this was something entirely different.

Victor handed Tunde an earpiece and said

“Tonight is just a preview event it is not the real thing."

Tunde asked him

“What does that mean, what is going to happen tonight?"

Victor explained

“It means the racers will watch each other and see what they can do before the real tournament starts."

As they walked through the crowd people started whispering to each other

Some people said

“That is the driver from Abuja the one they call the street racer."

Others said

“I heard he was involved in a race where someone almost got killed."

Tunde did not pay attention to what people were saying.

Then suddenly a loud engine noise was heard from a car that was nearby.

The crowd started cheering

A silver McLaren car turned around the corner fast and stopped just a few inches away from some of the spectators.

There was a lot of smoke in the air.

The driver of the car got out slowly he was an confident man but he also seemed arrogant.

Tunde realized that this man was the one that Victor had shown him in a photograph earlier his name was Ghost.

According to Victor Ghost was supposed to be dead.

Tunde looked at Victor. Said

“You told me that Ghost died what is going on?"

Victor did not say anything his face did not show any emotions.

Ghost took off his gloves calmly while the crowd was cheering his name.

Then he looked directly at Tunde. There was silence all around them.

Ghost smiled slowly it was a smile, like a predator that has found its prey.

He walked towards Tunde through the smoke that was still in the air. The crowd moved aside nervously.

When Ghost finally stopped in front of Tunde it was clear that there was a difference between them.

Ghost had a lot of experience he was confident. He seemed like a professional.

He said to Tunde

“You are the boy from Nigeria that everyone is talking about."

Tunde looked back at him. Said

“And you are the man who was supposed to be dead."

Some of the racers who were standing nearby looked shocked when they heard this.

Ghost stared at Tunde for a seconds then he laughed softly and said

“I like him."

Victor stepped between them carefully. Said

“Let us save the tension for the tournament we do not need any fights now."

Ghost ignored Victor and kept looking at Tunde.

He said

“You have talent but talent can die quickly in the Black Circuit."

The crowd was watching them silently they were all waiting to see what would happen next.

Ghost leaned a little closer to Tunde. Said

“Men like you come here every year they want to become legends but most of them leave in body bags."

Then he turned around. Walked away towards his car the crowd started cheering again as the engine of the car roared violently.

Tunde just stood there he did not move there was something about Ghost that made him feel uncomfortable it was not his confidence it was his eyes they seemed empty like he had seen too much darkness.

Victor finally spoke up quietly and said

“You should be careful around Ghost he is not a man to be trifled with."

Tunde asked him

“Why what is so special about him?"

Victor looked at the racetrack. Said

“Because Ghost is not afraid of death he has never been afraid of it."

The lights at the track suddenly went dim the crowd started screaming louder and the engines of the cars roared across the underground arena.

Then a big screen above the track lit up with some glowing words:

BLACK CIRCUIT TOURNAMENT

BEGINS TOMORROW

Tunde stared at the screen silently he could feel the adrenaline surging through his body he was getting ready for the event.

Tomorrow was the day when everything would begin. Tunde was ready to face whatever challenges came his way.

But far away, in Abuja his family had no idea how dangerous his world was becoming they did not know what he was getting himself into.