by Carey Lewis
He smiled, “so how we do this, we draw?” Boon asked.
“If that’s the way you want it.”
“I got an AK, mind if I turn a bit? I raise it up on you, you fire, that’s how it works?”
“You raise that weapon I’ll put you down. That’s how it works.”
“If I don’t raise it?”
Now Cowboy smiled. “We both know that’s not going to happen.”
Boon smiled again, tried to hide his fear. “I turn like this,” Boon said, turning so his left shoulder was forward. “I stand straight on you, I got to lift and twist, gives you an advantage.”
“We wouldn’t want that.”
“I stand like this, makes it fair. All we both got to do is raise now right?”
“That’s how you want it.”
“You a confident motherfucker ain’t you?”
“And you’re scared.”
“That’s what you think?”
“I do.”
Cowboy was right and Boon couldn’t believe it. He was scared. He was standing in front of this guy who he outgunned and he was scared down to his core. He knew he was talking to stall for time.
“We count to three?” Boon asked.
“No. We go when you want to die.”
Fuck him. Boon raised the gun.
And a force hit him in the chest. Next thing he knew he was on his back, staring up at the sky, his vision starting to go black around the edges. There was something in his throat, like water, making it so he couldn’t talk. He coughed it up, felt it run down his lips and his cheek but it was still in his throat.
He couldn’t catch his breath. Felt like all he needed to do was take a deep breath and he’d be fine but he couldn’t do it. Felt like he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs. Wanted to move his arms and legs, get up and keep firing, but he couldn’t communicate with his limbs. He felt them moving, like they were doing it on their own, not listening to what his brain was telling them.
Then he saw Cowboy come into his vision. Shit, he couldn’t even move his neck enough to get a good look at him. Just saw his shoulders and that hat standing over him. Only then did he realize Cowboy shot him, put him down just like he promised.
Boon looked up, saw the clouds in the sky overhead. He was wrong. When you’re like this, any view you have fucking sucks.
He figured it was the hat that made everyone want to draw on him. Thought maybe it brought back some childhood dreams of watching spaghetti westerns on TV, giving them a chance to reenact their fantasies. It never went the way they imagined it though.
Cowboy watched Boon, watched the life drain out of his eyes. Watched the fear take hold of him while he struggled to find breath. He watched it before and he watched it now. It never got any different.
He felt the kids looking at him, not sure what to do.
“Your friend still have the thirty-eight? The one he pulled on me?” Cowboy asked.
He saw the one, Doc, nod. He seemed to be taking it better than anyone else. Cowboy walked over to the van and felt around the kid’s body, got the gun and put it in the glove box. He walked back to Boon, took him by the shoulders, dragged him to the van and tossed him inside, sliding the door shut once he was in. He walked back to the kids.
“You guys at the Summit?”
They nodded.
“The gun your friend had, it’s the same one put Cyrus down. Killed another boy there went by the name of Snow.”
They stared at him.
“If I didn’t put your friend down, right as rain he would’ve put me down. You kids understand that?”
None of them said a word.
“That man there, he was going to take you out. Took the lives of three people tonight I know of, not much older than you boys. I didn’t come you’d be cemented up in walls, never heard from again,” he told them. “I ain’t saying I came here and saved you, I still took the life of your friend. I’m just telling you what happens you choose this life.”
He wondered if he was getting through to them. They weren’t crying anymore and seemed to be paying attention.
“You,” speaking to Doc, “take this van, go park it some where’s busy, a mall or something. No one’s going to notice it there for a few days. When they do find it, they’ll see your friend’s in there then they’ll come and find you and ask questions.”
“What do we say?”
“Whatever you want. You can tell them about me, you can make something up. They’ll find the gun in there and figure the warlord did Cyrus, get it back on the Black Knights. They won’t find the gun that did him or your friend though, so that’s up to you how you want to play it.”
“We can tell them about you?”
“You can tell them whatever you want kid, I won’t be around. If you want to call it an error of growing up, I’d tell them your friend went alone to the Summit, haven’t seen him since.”
Cowboy walked back to his Triumph and the engine fired up. He spun around in the dirt and headed to the road.
It wasn’t coaxing people into drawing down with him, that wasn’t the reason he wore the hat, even though it was an unexpected bonus. He wore the hat because that’s all anyone noticed when they saw him. The guy that wore the hat. He would take it off and no one would know who he was.
So he took the hat off as he brought the motorcycle down the farm roads, disappearing into the rising sun.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The first cops came into the factory and then it was a swarm. They had the tactical teams come in first, storming through the place, then Ritchie and his gang unit came in. Jamal was surprised how quick the tactical unit was assembled.
“Don’t say shit and follow my lead,” Jamal told Joseph, dropping to his knees and putting his hands above his head. Joseph did the same.
The tack unit seemed disappointed no one was inside the compound. Until they found Jamal and Joseph upstairs in the office. They were thrown on their tummies and their hands zip tied behind their backs.
Ritchie told them to break Jamal free, he was one of theirs. They cut the tie then lifted him to his feet.
“Him too,” Jamal said.
“Who’s he?”
“I’ll tell you.”
“Stand him up, don’t cut him free,” Ritchie said, his gaze going from Mesiah awkwardly hanging from the chair to the computer.
“Shit I think I seen this one. The end of the movie, girl loses a lot of weight and the guy she’s interested in wants no part of her. She ends up alone.”
“There’s an entire movie? Thought they just made scenes now,” Joseph said.
“Some ‘love your body’ shit. You believe that, in a porno? More plastic then flesh they’re the ones telling you to love all the fat you got on you. Saw it on TV, they cut out all the good parts? Whole movie without the good parts ends up being a half hour.”
Ritchie told them to follow and he led them out of the office and down the stairs. Jamal looked around, saw the guys in their white suits picking away at the pillars, careful to find the bodies inside.
“How many you think are in there?” Ritchie asked.
“Probably more than you think,” Joseph said.
“What I’m dying to know is who the fuck you are.”
Ritchie led them past the police coming in, the ones with cameras, the ones with dustpans, the ones with radios. As they were going out Jamal saw Lucy and she gave him a look that he’d take with him for a long time.
“You’re probably going to get her job, why she’s looking at you like that,” Ritchie said, leading them outside where there were even more cops, a lot in plainclothes, others setting up yellow tape, others on their phones or radios, others preparing gear before going inside.
He led them onto the wooden pier, the boards creaking under them, the splash of the water against the wall under their feet.
“So you went in on your own huh?”
“Was trying to save my job Ritchie.”
“You know how dumb that
was right? Like, that’s not something you need to be reminded of.”
“I knew you had my back.”
“Well, you saved your job, I can tell you that. I hear the brass are saying, ‘who’s Jamal, that the one Lucy was going to shit-can? Yeah, the very same. What the fuck’s her problem, going to shit-can the one brings down the Black Knights, maybe we should think of Lucy, see what she’s doing.’ She’s the one catching shit now. I hear even more, I hear she’s always screaming up the chain, giving them problems.”
“You heard a lot in a short time,” Jamal said.
“At that girl’s house, Kenzie. Had Lucy show up screaming bloody murder about you, saying it’s your fault, you should never been dumped on her, see what she had to put up with. I told you they were starting a task force? Brass comes by wanting to know what the task force is for, she starts screaming at them trying to make her case. One of them says to the other, there she goes again, then I see her come up and tear them off a strip. I get the call from you and yell it out, Jamal’s got the Black Knights, I see the two brass look at each other and they got that little smile on their face. They say, let’s see how this plays out.”
Jamal looked behind him, saw the first news van arrive, the cops blocking it from going beyond the barricade.
“You understand? All that happened before you decided to play hero cop and come in here by yourself.”
“I’m not a hero.”
“No you’re stupid. I’m telling you all this happened before. You’d have the same result if you waited. But the brass, what I think is the brass wanted Lucy gone anyway, she was always blaming them why she couldn’t get further up the chain. Only got where she was because she made so much noise so I think she’s gone thanks to you.”
“I’m supposed to feel bad for her?”
“I was thinking of telling you all this, I thought you’d be tap dancing right now actually. Let’s walk this way in case one of them reporters decide to take our picture.”
They walked along the docks, putting the building between them and the press that were showing up. Just them and the water now.
“You going to tell me who your friend is.”
“This is Joseph, my informant.”
“He registered?”
“Think Lucy’s going to let me have a registered CI?”
“You must be happy to be out,” Ritchie said, cutting Joseph loose from the zip line around his wrists.
“I’m keeping him in a while longer,” Jamal said, “there’s still some out there and if we keep him in, put him in charge of what’s leftover, we can get the rest.”
“He’s not registered Jamal.”
“How many CI’s you got aren’t registered?”
“You know what? I don’t care. You and me, we’re going to write our own ticket now. Start deciding what job you want and what you want to say to the press,” Ritchie said, walking away.
“You didn’t happen to catch the kid did you? Lex?”
Ritchie turned back, “still out there. This thing distracted the world for a couple minutes,” and Ritchie walked away.
“Anyone else out there?” Jamal asked Joseph.
“There’s Baptist at the hospital with Noah. He didn’t care much for Mesiah putting all those bodies in the wall. He’s more a healer type. He won’t be a problem. Boon is out there getting some kids to bring back here, he’s the one that’ll be the cause of grief.”
“You’re in charge, he won’t fall in line?”
“I’m in charge, I make sure he won’t be a problem.”
“What about the other gangs? The day to day operations you guys had? That going to be a problem?”
“I’ll put the word out to Asteria, let her know there’s been a change in management. Heard you and her got into it. Put it out on the radio.”
“She’s got a streak to her.”
Joseph chuckled, “that she do.”
“Put a message out too, we’re going to need more people. Got enough work I think to make everyone happy.”
“How you going to do that?”
Now Jamal smiled, “you think this is the only thing I got my toe in?”
“So you going to be like, cop famous now?”
“It would seem so.”
“Cop by day, criminal kingpin at night, that’s what you got planned?”
“It’s the dream.”
“What po-po job you going to take?”
“One where I can keep an eye on our business here, make sure no one gets too close.”
“You’re a sneaky one Jamal.”
“You come to return my gun?”
“Which one?”
“I’d be surprised you still got any of them.”
Lex was standing in the kitchen, having let himself in through the back door. Hank heard the noise and came to stand in the doorway that led to the living room, the bottle of spiced rum almost empty in his hand.
“Still doing that clear and dark shit?” Lex asked.
“Works for me. Headache’s ain’t so bad in the morning.”
“Must be a big one today huh?” Lex looked at the bandages wrapped around his father’s head, the gauze on his cheeks and nose, blood starting to seep through. “Thought you’d still be in the hospital.”
“And I thought you’d be gone.”
“Didn’t work that way.”
“Not the way you planned huh? Never is. Want a drink?”
Lex took a closer look at the almost empty bottle. “You’re almost out.”
“I’ll order more.”
Hank crossed the room and reached into a cupboard, pulled out a shot glass, blew in it to get rid of the dust. Put it on the counter and poured the rum inside, handed it to Lex. Hank raised the bottle and Lex raised the glass and they drank.
“It’s been a night,” Lex said.
“Imagine so.”
“So why ain’t you in the hospital?”
“Didn’t want to go. Told them to stitch me up right here so that’s what they done. Right there in the living room where you beat me down. Maybe you want a look at it, blood’s still there. Go see the blood you beat out of your old man.”
“No hard feelings,” Lex said with a hint of a smile.
“Didn’t think I’d see you again,” Hank said, pouring more rum in Lex’s glass.
“Probably didn’t want to.”
“You’re still my son,” Hank said. Lex raised his glass and they both drank. Hank finished off the bottle.
“You’re out.”
“Why haven’t you left?”
“Had some things to take care of,” Lex said, watching Hank move across the kitchen to the table, started leafing through all the things on there.
“Max ate it if you’re looking for the chicken.”
“Thought maybe it was a dream and still had it. You take care of your things?”
“No.”
“So when you leaving?”
“Can’t right now. They’ll have people looking for me. Probably roadblocks in and out, watching the train and bus station.”
Hank smiled, “shit boy, what kind of resources you think they got?”
“After what I did?”
“So your plan is to hide out here, wait for it to blow over?”
“Figure they do the roadblocks for a day, maybe two.”
“You’re staying here for that time?”
“That’s the plan.”
“What did you do son?”
“You really want to know?” Lex smiled.
“Probably not.”
They both stood in silence.
“You’re going to be here long we’ll need more booze. What’re you drinking nowadays?”
“It don’t matter.”
“Number’s in the other room,” Hank said and left the kitchen. Lex leaned against the counter, looked around, not believing his father had fallen into such squalor. Maybe he’d visit his mom later, ask her if she knew what she did to the old man, why she thought she could ha
ve such nerve.
His pocket started buzzing. He put down his empty glass and took the three phones out of his pocket, laid them out - his phone, Kevin’s phone, and the cop’s phone. It was the cop’s phone that was buzzing, a number on the screen he recognized. He took the phone and went into the living room, saw Hank sitting on the edge of the couch with the phone up to his ear.
Hank looked at him, white card in his hand, said into the phone “a forty of Captain Morgan spiced, how about some Smirnoff—” and stopped when Lex showed him the phone, seeing the display on the screen of his own phone number. Hank hung up.
“You want to tell me it’s the cop’s side job now? Bootlegging liquor to your wasted ass?”
“Would you buy it?”
“Is it because I beat you?”
“It didn’t help. Told him to take it easy on you in spite of it.”
“That a consolation?”
“It’s a fact.”
“Suppose I should be thankful.”
“Better than what you are now.”
Lex took the .45 from his pants and shot Hank in the head.
The Boss’s Boppers is the name Cleon came up with. He liked it, getting excited again that he had a place he belonged to. Or maybe it was the Wild Turkey that turned into Smirnoff that he was having. Ordinarily, The Boss found these kids to be annoying, but he didn’t mind them on this early morning, what, with him getting Cyrus’s supplier down in Florida. Happened to be Cleon’s cousin of all things.
It was when The Boss went inside to get the Smirnoff that he saw Jamal on the morning news. Standing there in the background while some guys in uniform talked to the press, bragging about themselves getting rid of the Black Knights. Watched Jamal step forward with some other guy to wave at the reporters, then step back in line.
He went outside with the Smirnoff and a tiny bottle of gin for himself. It seemed to work out, he should have a glass to celebrate. Show his new employees he was easy to work with while he laid out the ground rules, bring them around like he did with Bulldog.
Cleon was telling Cochise he was fine with him leaving, they’d still be brothers. He was even taking the girl, Catharine, around the shoulders and telling them how much he loved them. Young drunks, The Boss thought. The tall skinny one with bushy hair, Ajax, he was going to have to learn these names, seemed happy enough. The Boss saw him try to call someone a few times, maybe that’s why he wasn’t as happy as the rest.
