Animal III

by K'wan

  Animal wasn’t sure what was going on, but he knew better than to question it because Kahllah would probably just give him another generic answer, so he would just observe for the moment. Ashanti got into the passenger seat, while Kahllah took his place in the back and Animal took the wheel. To Animal and Ashanti’s surprise, Kahllah began undressing in the backseat.

  “Eyes front, Ashanti,” Kahllah said as if she could feel him trying to watch her through the rearview mirror.

  “I was just trying to make sure I could see if anyone was coming up behind us,” Ashanti smirked. He turned to Animal. “She always think I’m on some bullshit.”

  “Most of the time you are,” Animal shot back good-naturedly.

  “Okay, you guys are good,” Kahllah said after a few minutes. Animal was surprised by what he saw, but Ashanti just smirked.

  Kahllah had changed into a black catsuit, with a thin custom-made bulletproof vest. It was no thicker than a golf sweater, but lined with steel plates covering all her vital organs. Strapped across her back were two blades that looked like oversized meat cleavers. A black cowl covered her head and neck, leaving only her face visible. Even with her painted lips and seductive eyes, Kahllah still looked quite menacing.

  “Don’t stare at me like that, it’s making me uncomfortable,” Kahllah told Animal.

  “My bad, but this is my first time ever seeing the Black Lotus,” he smirked. Animal had heard about Kahllah’s Black Lotus persona, but had never seen her first-hand and he was impressed.

  “Consider yourself fortunate. Usually the first time a man lays eyes on the Black Lotus is the last time he ever lays eyes on anything,” Kahllah said. She meant it as a joke, but the humor was lost in the serious edge to her tone. “Ashanti, I’m going to take care of our friend in front then I want you to go around the back and cover the rear door in case someone tries to bolt. There will be no mercy for this pervert or his ilk. Anyone who comes out of that door, who isn’t me, dies.”

  “Now you’re speaking my language,” Ashanti said happily. He didn’t care who he got to kill, as long as he got to kill someone. He had been waiting all night to collect his pint of blood and his moment was almost at hand.

  “And what do you need me to do?” Animal asked.

  Kahllah took her time, sliding a mask down over her face. It was made of steel that had been blackened so deep that it no longer cast even the faintest reflection of light. In the forehead was carved a black lotus flower. “Keep the engine running and stay out of the way. If I need you, which I doubt, I’ll contact you with this,” she tossed Animal a small hand radio.

  Animal had only taken his eyes off Kahllah long enough to catch the radio, but it was enough time for her to vanish from the vehicle. Animal had never even heard the door open.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to her doing that,” Ashanti said, picking up on his slack-jawed look. “Kahllah has a knack for moving without being seen.”

  “So it would seem,” Animal agreed. “What strange twist of fate threw y’all two together?”

  Ashanti shrugged. “I can’t pinpoint one specific time or another. It’s like after everything we went through with Shai brought us together and being there for you while you were locked up kept us together. Me and Kahllah got real close while you were away.”

  Animal raised an eyebrow. “How close?”

  “Not like that,” Ashanti laughed. “Kahllah is like a big sister to me. She’s been teaching me a lot bout the business.”

  “So, you’re making your bones as a paid assassin now?” Animal asked.

  “I’m making my bones as anything that will keep me and mine from starving,” Ashanti shot back. “I mostly ride out with Kahllah for shits and giggles, but it’s had its benefits beyond the extra cash. I’m carving out my legacy.”

  “How do you figure?” Animal asked curiously.

  “Dig, I ain’t saying I’m ready to join the Brotherhood or nothing like that, but for a few minutes of work I sometimes make more than I can standing around on the block. I’ve been putting in work in the streets for years. I got more hood stripes than any two niggas running a crew, but to everybody I’m still little Ashanti. Kahllah said it’s because I still carry myself like a common hoodlum, and she’s trying to help me be more than that. She’s been teaching me things, like discipline and how to talk to people so I can navigate amongst these circles and not seem out of place. She calls it blending. The fact that I get to blow nigga’s heads off for money is just a bonus,” he laughed.

  “Murder is a dirty business, Ashanti.”

  “Indeed it is,” Ashanti agreed, “but there’s no denying that I’m good at it. I should be, since I’ve been around it all my life. I know I don’t have to tell you all this, because it was you who showed me my first dead body, remember?”

  Animal indeed remembered . . . he remembered it well, because it was the night his life would be forever changed.

  • • •

  It was the night Animal would have his final reckoning with a man named Eddie. Eddie was Animal’s mother’s boyfriend, and also the man who killed her. Eddie had tormented Animal for most of his life, and treated his mother like shit, but the drugs kept her with him. Years after Animal had already run away, Eddie and his mother finally broke up, but it was Eddie who ended things, in a very fatal way. He had given Animal’s mother H.I.V and she died a slow and painful death. Animal had always vowed to murder Eddie, and thanks to Ashanti, he would have his chance.

  Eddie had been laying low since the death of Animal’s mother, but Ashanti had the good fortune of spotting him up in Connecticut. It had been in the same neighborhood where Ashanti’s child kidnappers had kept him. With Ashanti leading the way, Animal and Tech went to pay a call on Eddie.

  They rushed the house, subduing the woman who was renting it and her brother, while Animal trapped Eddie in one of the bedrooms. He knew from the insane look in Animal’s eyes that he was surely a dead man, so like the coward he was, he sought something to use in the form of leverage . . . a little girl who had been sleeping in the princess bed a few feet away.

  “You take one more step, and I’ll cut her,” Eddie threatened. He had a kitchen knife pressed against her throat.

  “You’re a killer and a coward, Eddie,” Animal spat.

  “Yeah, and I’m also a survivor,” Eddie said. “Now back the fuck up or I’m gonna split this little bitch open.”

  “This is between me and you, Eddie. Let that child go and take your medicine like a man,” Animal challenged. He wanted to tear Eddie up bad as hell, but didn’t want to risk hitting the little girl.

  Eddie laughed. “Nigga, you done seen one movie too many. Ain’t no happy endings in the ghetto and ain’t no honor among thieves. What’s gonna happen next is, you’re gonna put that gun down and me and this kid are gonna walk out of here, unharmed.”

  “And what makes you think I won’t just smoke you and her?” Animal asked.

  “Because I know you,” Eddie said matter-of-factly. “I hear you’re making a name for yourself in the streets, but that heart of yours is still tender. For as bad as you wanna kill me, you’re more worried about hitting this kid by accident. Now drop that burner, so I can be on my way, and, if I have to ask you again, I might slip and cut her throat by accident.”

  Animal hesitated for a moment, before finally dropping his gun. He was furious not only because he would miss his chance to kill Eddie, but also because years later, Eddie was still able to play on his insecurities and come out on top.

  “You know I’m going to hunt you to the ends of the earth, right? Even if I don’t get you tonight, I’ll get you eventually,” he promised.

  “I believe you’ll give it your best shot, but, as you can see, Ol’ Eddie ain’t so easy to kill. Now if you’ll excuse me—”

  Eddie’s body went stiff. He released the little girl and began clawing at his back. When he turned, Animal saw two things—a pair of scissors sticking out of Eddie’s back, and Ashanti.
During the standoff, he’d snuck around to the side of the house and climbed in through the first floor window of the child’s room and got the drop on Eddie. He was the only one of the three who entered the house that didn’t have a gun, but he’d snatched a pair of scissors from the living room, thinking they might come in handy, and they did.

  Seizing the moment, Animal scooped the Pretty Bitch off the ground and let it rock. The first bullet hit Eddie high in the chest and bounced him off the wall. Animal hit him again and again, causing Eddie’s body to do a little dance before falling to the ground. Eddie was down, but still breathing.

  Animal walked over to Eddie and stood over him. His eyes were rolling around in his head, trying to find something to focus on.

  “Look at me,” Animal ordered. Eddie’s eyes instinctively went to the voice. “On behalf of my mother and every other person whose life you’ve ever ruined, I cast you back to the pit of hell that you crawled out of.” He fired two shots into Eddie’s face, ending his existence. “May God show no mercy on your soul.” Animal shot him once more for good measure.

  Ashanti was standing there in a numb state, staring at Eddie’s dead body. Blood dripped from the hand he had been holding the scissors in when he stabbed him. Ashanti had never seen a dead body before, and couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away.

  Animal looked at the little boy, studying him. Ashanti wouldn’t meet his gaze. Animal tilted Ashanti’s chin so that he had no choice but to look him in the eyes. “Blood on my hands . . . blood on yours. Do you understand?”

  Ashanti was too stunned to speak, so he just nodded. He couldn’t articulate it at the time, but he knew that Animal was letting him know that if he ever thought about telling the story of what had happened that his hands were just as dirty as Animal’s. He didn’t have to worry about Ashanti telling. Even at that early age he understood the code of the streets, and was already experienced at living by them. He not only understood why Animal had done what he’d done, but he respected it. It was that night that the bond was formed between the two of them, a bond forged by tragedy and sealed by blood.

  • • •

  “To this day, I’ve never spoken to another living soul about that night, not even Tech after it happened,” Ashanti told him.

  “Because you’re a good soldier, and always have been. You were the one person I’ve always been able to depend on,” Animal told him. “That was a bad night,” Animal added.

  An uncomfortable silence hung between them. Ashanti looked at Animal as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words. Something was on his heart.

  “Don’t think about it, just say it,” Animal told him, picking up on his tabulation.

  “It ain’t bout nothing, I’m just glad to see you free . . . like for real free, no more bullshit,” Ashanti said.

  “I’m happy to be free, but I wouldn’t say that my new freedom isn’t without some of the same bullshit. If that was the case then I probably wouldn’t be sitting in the car with you two fools,” Animal joked.

  “You know old habits die hard,” Ashanti said with a smile. His face suddenly became serious. “Look big homie, I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry I didn’t get up to visit you like that when you were locked down. I meant to come, but I just had a lot of shit going on, ya know?”

  “Yeah, I can dig that, little brother, and I totally understand. When you’re inside, it’s like time stops when you fall into that prison routine. Out in the world, things keep moving. We soldiers, Ashanti, and as soldiers we understand that prison comes with the territory. I ain’t saying it like going to prison is a badge of honor or no shit like that, but when you’re in the streets it strengthens your chances of going. When that time comes, you buckle down, do your time. Getting caught up in what’s going on in the world only makes it harder.”

  “Is that what you did to get through your time, forget about everybody?” Ashanti asked.

  Animal laughed. He hadn’t meant it to mock Ashanti, but the genuine curiosity in his question took him back to a time when Ashanti was still a little boy, picking Animal’s brain for information. “Man, I only had eighteen months, not eighteen years,” Animal said. “Granted, even one day in prison is one day too many, but my bid wasn’t the worst. Of course I missed my son and my lady, but because I was so close to the city, Gucci was able to come visit me on the regular, before she moved out here to set things up for us. Outside of that, I did a lot of reading and working out to help me pass the time.”

  “I hear the homies are strong in the prison system,” Ashanti said.

  “Please believe it, we definitely had numbers up in there but I didn’t get into all that gang shit while I was locked up. It wasn’t conducive to who I was striving to become. All that kind of shit does is bring problems that I didn’t want.”

  “So you saying you ain’t bout that five no more?” Ashanti asked.

  “I’m always gonna be about that because it’s a part of who I am, but if you mean taking life over colors, no I ain’t bout that. I think it stopped being about that for me when I killed Eddie. When I was young, coming up under Tango and Gladiator, all I wanted to do was prove that I was the hardest Blood out, but after a while it was no longer about colors, it was about having a purpose. In my entire life, killing had been the only thing I was ever good at. For the first time people needed me, instead of the other way around. Killing got good to me. I had been the prey for so long that it felt good to be the predator. Every time I dropped a nigga, I didn’t see their faces, but the faces of someone who had done me wrong in life. Death became my drug of choice and I was a stone cold junkie.”

  “I remember those days,” Ashanti said, thinking back to how things used to be. Animal could kill a man in the most gruesome ways and never bat an eye. He was cold, calculated and Ashanti wanted to be just like him. “What changed?” It was a question Ashanti felt like he already knew the answer to, but he had never asked it out loud.

  “Gucci changed all that,” Animal said honestly. “Before I met her I was just out there throwing caution to the wind, and doing whatever to whomever. I didn’t care about the repercussions, having somebody in my life who could potentially get hurt because of my bullshit made me slow down and really start to think about the things I was out there doing. I changed for her.”

  “So you saying the killer is dead?” Ashanti asked.

  “Nah, the killer in me is alive and well, I’m just better at establishing who is in control,” Animal said.

  “See, that’s what I’m getting at, Animal. Kahllah says I need to learn control, but it ain’t as easy as she thinks when you come from what we come from. These niggas I deal with day in and day out are savages and they only respect other savages. I ain’t good at diplomacy. If you out here foul and your name gets pulled out the hat then its lights out, Blood. Straight like that.”

  “I feel you, Ashanti, but what’s the end game?” Animal asked.

  Ashanti cocked his head to one side. “I don’t follow you.”

  “I mean, to what end are you playing the game? When it’s all said and done, what are you in it for?”

  Ashanti looked at Animal, weighing the question. “To die rich and notorious,” he said seriously.

  His answer saddened Animal. Chronologically Ashanti was an adult, but mentally he was still a young man wandering the dark path . . . the path Animal had set him on, just as Gladiator had done for him years prior.

  Before their conversation could go any further, something bounced across the hood of the car, startling both of them. They weren’t sure what it was, but it had left a bloodstain on the windshield.

  • • •

  Chester had been on his feet all day, and half the night, with no signs that he’d be able to relax anytime soon. Normally, doing security for Thad Klein was a cakewalk, and largely consisted of him spending his days watching Netflix on his phone or driving Klein back and forth, but not that day. Klein had kept Chester running around checking on this or that,
and double-checking security. With all the cocaine Klein did, he was always paranoid, but that day he was more so.

  A sound coming from the small cove on the side of the tattoo parlor, where the dumpster was kept, caught Chester’s attention. It sounded like a wounded animal. Chester started to ignore it until he remembered how Klein felt about his cats. He treated those animals better than he did people. One time, one of Mr. Klein’s prized Persian cats had gotten out of the apartment and got hit by a car. He went ballistic and fired the guy who was doing security on the apartment that day, calling him negligent. Chester needed his job, so he reasoned it was better to be safe than sorry.

  Chester crept around the side of the building to the dumpster with is gun hanging at his side. It was dark around the cove of the dumpster, so he fished a small flashlight from his pocket and flicked it on. At first he didn’t see anything but trash, but on his second sweep he caught it. One of Mr. Klein’s cats had gotten out, and it was lying on the ground, meowing sorrowfully. Chester could see the cat’s legs twitching, but it made no attempt to get up. Chester figured the cat must’ve fallen from the window of the upstairs apartment and hurt itself.

  “So much for cats always landing on their feet,” Chester chuckled. He knelt down to check the extent of the cat’s injuries. For the most part, the cat seemed to be intact, except for the bone protruding from its neck. It was a clean break, so it couldn’t have been caused by a fall. By the time two and two made four in Chester’s mind, it was already too late.

  Chester spun, with his gun raised, at the same time Kahllah’s blade cut through is wrist, severing the hand holding the gun. The scream that he was trying to muster died in his throat, when the second blade slit it. The last thing he saw before the light faded from his eyes was the black mask staring down at him.

  After making sure Chester was dead, Kahllah waved her hands at the SUV to give Ashanti the signal, but he didn’t notice. He and Animal were so deep into whatever they were talking about that neither of them saw Kahllah giving the signal. “Fucking amateurs,” Kahllah cursed under her breath. She needed a way to get their attention without tipping Klein off, and looking down at Chester’s dead body she had just the solution.