Anything for Profit 2: Nothing to Lose

by Floyd, Justin Amen

  “I know where Anthony Davis is at,” said a female voice.

  “And what Anthony Davis are you referring to ma’am?” Apparently there was more than one Anthony Davis on the run.

  “The Anthony Davis that’s been on Greenville’s Most Wanted,” the woman said as if the person she was talking to might’ve been mentally challenged.

  “Ok ma’am. Where exactly is he located?”

  “He’s at the Camelot Inn off Augusta Rd; Room 109.”

  “Thanks for the information ma’am. Would you like to— the line went dead. That was strange, thought the male operator. Most people liked to find out how they could get their reward money if their tip led to an arrest. Oh well. He would do his job and make sure the information was passed on to the Sherriff’s Department.

  $$$

  “This just in; Fox 21 has learned only moments ago a police van used by the Sherriff’s Department to transport inmates was hijacked. The van was supposed to be making a routine drop off at the courthouse when somehow the deputies were overpowered. It is unclear how many inmates were involved in this hijacking or if either of the deputies were hurt in the process, but they are still in the vehicle. Authorities are giving us very little details at this time but it seems that a high speed chase is in progress. They are advising people to avoid the Laurens Rd. area at this time until further notice. More details to come on this breaking story…”

  “Oh shit! Y’all see that shit? Y’all watchin’ this shit?” asked Boogie excitedly, pointing at the television. It was a rhetorical question. Everybody in L-Block had their eyes glued to the TV. “Some crazy muthafuckas done hijacked the van on the way to the courthouse!” Life in the county was so monotonous and bleak that news like this sent a jolt of excitement through the block. Niggas felt alive.

  “Hold up. Didn’t they pull Mike for a court run?” asked Lil Money from The District. Lil Money had just gotten trapped off with two keys of that boy.

  “Hell yeah! You think that nigga had something to do wit’ that shit?” asked another inmate who was watching the TV from the top bunk of his bed.

  “Ain’t no telling dog. I damn sure wouldn’t put it past his ass,” replied Lil Money.

  “I know one thing though. Whoever did that shit is a crazy ass muh’fucka,” somebody else chimed in.

  “Boy! He better hope them crackers kill his ass ‘cause if not they damn sho’ gon’ get some time behind this shit.”

  “Some time?” asked Boogie incredulously. “Nigga you must be stupid. If them crackers don’t give that nigga a hunned slugs then they damn sho’ gon’ give him a hunned years! They gon’ bury that nigga under the fucking jail. He ain’t never finna see daylight again.”

  The block got quiet when the newscaster came back on air. “Authorities have just released this surveillance footage taken by the camera outside the transport area of the detention center.” The video recording began playing. “What you’re seeing is a violent inmate by the name of Michael Smith striking a deputy, taking his weapon and forcing him into the rear of the van. He then proceeds to get into the front and the van speeds off. Smith, 22, who has a violent criminal history, was already being held for two murders.” The news anchor paused for a moment as he looked off camera. “I’ve just gotten word that our very own Patricia Gilbert is in a Fox 21 news copter following the chase on the ground. Pat, what do you see; what can you tell us?”

  Patricia appeared on the screen from the inside a helicopter. “Well this is a scene straight out of a Hollywood movie Brian. Unfortunately, it is all too real.” The camera panned down at the ground and zoomed in on the dramatic scene taking place below. “If you look closely, you can see fifteen Greenville County police cars in pursuit of the hijacked van, which at times has been driving eratically at speeds in excess of 80 mph on the busy Laurens Rd. Only seconds ago the van ran a red light and narrowly escaped running into the back of a UPS truck. It’s a very tense situation Brian. I’ll have more as it develops. Pat Gilbert; Fox 21 news…”

  CHAPTER 31

  “Fuck!” Mike yelled in frustration as he looked into the side mirrors of the van. There were an ass of police cars with their lights flashing behind them as the Van sped down Laurens Rd. He looked up. There were two helicopters following them overhead.

  “Listen, you’re only making the situation worse,” Sgt. Lewis said. “There’s no way to escape. Why don’t you stop this craziness and let me pull over so you can turn yourself in?” she pleaded.

  Mike pressed the barrel of the pistol firmly against the temple of Sgt. Lewis’ head. “Bitch, next time you open your fucking mouth I’ma put yo’ goddamn brains in yo’ lap,” he said icily. “Now put your muthafuckin foot on the gas and drive this bitch.” Tanya Lewis did as she was told.

  “A, I just want it to be known I ain’t got shit to do with this,” said an inmate from the back. The other inmates began to chime in with similar sentiments.

  “Everybody shut the fuck up!” Mike yelled. Silence. “Y’all pussy ass niggas would rather spend the rest yo’ sorry ass lives rotting in a cell before you tried to get away?”

  “But I’m only in here for child support maaan!” one inmate exclaimed in a high pitched voice.

  Mike ignored him. He had to think fast; come up with a plan… but what? He had gone too far to turn back now. Turning himself in wasn’t even an option. He’d rather die before he let them lock him back in that hole like an animal.

  Mike’s heart was filled with hatred for a system that had stacked the deck against him, and then penalized him when he played the only hand he knew. Nikki was dead. His unborn son was dead. They were trying to give him the death sentence. He thought about the three words tatted on his chest. Nothing to lose.

  The van continued to fly down Laurens Rd. at dangerous speeds, running red lights, stop signs and barely missing traffic. Mike had to make a decision and he had to make it fast. There was a turn coming up on the right, behind the “Day n Night” convenience store that would take them down a dangerous side street. The street was risky because there was a sharp turn that left you blind to oncoming traffic for about 5 seconds. There was also a ditch to the left that more than a few cars found themselves in if they took the turn too fast.

  At the final possible moment, Mike said “Turn right here; turn right!” he said pointing. The van was going so fast when it made the turn that it went up on two tires and almost flipped over. Deputy Franklin and the inmates in the back all hollered as they were violently tossed against the left side of the van. Mike didn’t have on his seat belt, but had braced himself for the turn. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until the van was completely back on the ground. He exhaled.

  As soon as he relaxed, the van turned the corner and ran directly into an oncoming pickup truck traveling in the opposite direction. The sound of the impact was akin to a bomb going off. Metal crunched… glass shattered. Instantly, Mike was violently thrown from his seat and propelled through the windshield of the van. Mike flew through the air. Fifteen yards from where the accident took place Mike was lying face down on the ground. His limbs were twisted at grotesque angles. He couldn’t feel anything. His last thoughts before losing consciousness were the two words the old man in the county had said to him: “be free.”

  CHAPTER 32

  Deandre Hall was far from being a sucker for love. In fact he was the exact opposite. As a successful club promoter from Brooklyn he’d been in bed with some of the best looking women in the entertainment industry, as well as out. A bevy of beautiful, exotic women all had one thing in common. They’d fallen victim to Dre’s good looks, cool demeanor and smooth personality. His reputation as a ladies’ man preceded him.

  Dre had been intimate with supermodels, actresses, singers, TV personalities and more. He’d make love to their minds, then their bodies. Once he got what he wanted though, he’d quickly discard them and move on to his next conquest. That had been the plan with Meka, but like his grandma used to always say: man
makes plans… God laughs. Well he guessed God was laughing because he’d fallen for Meka… hard.

  At first Dre had fallen deeply in lust with Meka. He had been in the bed with more than a few freaks, but Meka was a different type of animal when it came to sex. Then it all changed. Dre vividly remembered the night his feelings for Meka had shifted from mere lust to something much more. It was the night she had laid next to him and bared her soul.

  “Dre, listen: We been fucking around for a lil minute and the sex is great. I know you feeling me, but I gotta keep it all the way one hunned with you before we go any further…” Meka paused dramatically as if she was contemplating whether she should continue.

  “Wassup Meka? Tell me what’s on your mind,” he said.

  Meka sighed. “Dre, I done been through a lot of shit in my life.” She paused again, looked away before continuing. “My mama was a fiend that got raped when she was tricking. I’m the product of that rape. I don’t know who my daddy is and if I ever found out, I’d probably try to kill his ass.

  Once she had me, my mama basically gave me up. I was always on the move from one family member’s house to another. But nobody really wanted me there. My own family would hide food from me, beat me, cuss at me and call me all types of fucking names. They made me feel like shit. Nothing I did was ever good enough.”

  “Anyway when I was staying with my Aunt Gladys her boyfriend Ray Ray… raped me. It started with him just touching on me and making me touch him, but one day when I came home from school he was waiting on me and he just, he just…” Meka began crying.

  Dre wiped her tears with the thumbs of his hands and told her he was there for her. Meka continued: “He raped me over and over again and my aunt wouldn’t believe me whenever I tried to tell her. She would just get mad and tell me I was a lying whore just like my mother.” Meka was silent for a few minutes. Dre waited patiently for her to continue.

  “Then last year these niggas kidnapped me. They took me to this house, tied me up and beat me. After they beat me, they took turns raping me and, and… pissing all over me.” The tears were really streaming down Meka’s face now. Sobs racked her body as she recounted her ordeal. “Once they finished raping me they beat me some more, then threw me in a dumpster… I was in a coma for months. I just felt like you needed to know these things Dre. If you don’t wanna be with me I’d understand…”

  The silence was deafening as Dre let the gravity of everything he’d just heard sink in. He was really feeling for Meka. He wanted to protect her and take her away from the life she’d known. “Why wouldn’t I want to be with you Meka? Huh? I’m not like all those other people in your life who hurt you,” Dre said sincerely, looking deeply into her tear filled eyes. “I want to be there for you Meka. I want to be a part of your life.”

  “Then there’s one more thing I need to tell you.”

  “You can tell me anything.”

  “I’m pregnant with your baby. You’re going to be a daddy.” She waited on Dre’s response. When he finally broke into a smile and rubbed her stomach she knew she had him. Inwardly Meka couldn’t help but to smile at the Oscar worthy performance she had just given.

  CHAPTER 33

  Ant D paced back and forth inside the motel room in his boxer briefs with an AK-47 in his hand, mumbling to himself. He had lost a considerable amount of weight over the past few months that he’d been on the run. He had to fold the elastic of his boxers in order to keep them up around his waist. He had the AC on full blast, but he was still hot and sweating.

  The room was in complete disarray. The bed wasn’t made, dirty clothes were all over the floor and empty food containers littered the room. There was cocaine residue all over the nightstand as well as handguns and an assortment of ammo. Paranoid, Ant hadn’t let anybody inside the room except his supplier Half Pint since Meka got the room for him a week back. He hadn’t seen his sister since.

  Fuck Meka! She done left me for dead just like everybody else. My own goddamn sister. Well fuck her. Fuck everybody! Muhfuckas think I’m crazy and shit? Like I don’t know what time it is? I know what time it is. Muthafuckas don’t want me to know what time it is but I know. Fuck niggas tryna set me up. Got them boys watchin’ me. But I got a trick for they monkey ass. Ant cocked back the AR-15 and laughed. It was a nervous sound. Yeah, fuck everybody. I’m good. I just need some shit to get my mind right real quick so I can think. Where the fuck is this nigga Half Pint!? Nigga ‘posed to been had his monkey ass over here by now. Oh. I get it. Niggas thinking I’m something to play with now? Huh? That’s what the fuck is going on? He made that nervous sound again as he peeked from behind the drawn shades. It was early June. The sun was bright outside, but Ant kept the room dark as he continued to walk a hole in the stained carpet. His thoughts were racing. I know what the fuck is going on. Muthafuckas think I’m slippin, but I’m on point. Muthafuckin Finals on TV and shit. Fuck Kobe. Fuck the Lakers… Goddamn! Where the fuck is that nigga Half Pint with my shit!? Muthafuckin’ pussy ass nigga! Ant went to the bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face. Ok, ok. Calm down Ant, calm down. Everything’s cool. That nigga probably just had to make another quick drop off. Yeah, that’s what it is. I’m tripping.

  There was a sudden knock at the door. Ant jumped. He tip-toed to the door, put his ear to it and listened. The knock came again. “Who?”

  “Goddamn Ant. It’s me nigga; Half Pint.” Half Pint was one of the few niggas Ant trusted to bring him coke. They had known each other since East Gant Elementary. Ant still had to take precaution. He left the latch on the door and opened it. All Half Pint could see was an eyeball. “Nigga stop bullshittin’ and lemme in. I got other drops to make.” Ant closed the door, removed the latch and opened the door. “Bout muthafuckin’ time nigga. Where the fuck—”

  The door imploded inward. In rushed Detective Patterson and three other deputies with vests on and their guns drawn. “Sherriff’s Office; get down on the ground! Now!” Patterson didn’t wait for him to comply. He simply opened fire. The other officers followed suit. High caliber slugs tore into Ant’s chest and sent him sprawling backwards onto the floor.

  In a matter of seconds it was over. Patterson kept his gun at the ready as he approached the body. His partners did the same. He reached down and placed two fingers on the side of Ant’s neck; nothing. Anthony Davis was dead. He hadn’t whispered any dramatic last words like in the movies. “He’s gone,” said Patterson as he stood up. “Everybody clear on what happened here?” he asked, looking at his fellow murderers. They all nodded their heads in agreement. “All right, call this in. And get that other piece of shit back to the jail.” The officers exited the room. Ant’s eyes stared up blankly at the ceiling, seeing nothing as the blood pooled around his lifeless body.

  $$$

  After intercepting the 11-44 code over the police scanner, it didn’t take long for the news media to arrive. They descended upon The Camelot motel like vultures. The yellow crime scene tape kept the camera crews from getting too close to the actual scene. Reporters from local networks began broadcasting live; yelling out questions.

  Against protocol, Detective Patterson chose to address the media and answer their questions. After all, this was his big opportunity. “Is it true that a man was killed here this afternoon in room 109?” a reporter yelled out.

  “The answer to that question is yes. At approximately 1:15pm the Sherriff’s office received an anonymous tip that one of Greenville’s Most Wanted was staying here at the Camelot Inn. The suspect in question was a Mr. Anthony Davis, aged 22. Mr. Davis was wanted in connection to a variety of violent crimes in and around Greenville, including armed robbery and murder. He was also wanted for questioning about that violent shooting that occurred at the mall a few months back.” Patterson was sweating profusely as he stood in the hot summer sun. He continuously wiped his brow as he talked.

  “Myself and three other deputies were assigned to follow up this lead. With the aid of an informant that had a history of de
aling with Mr. Davis we were able to gain entrance into room 109. Upon entering the room, we immediately identified ourselves. The suspect raised an automatic weapon at my person. I proceeded to use necessary force to take the suspect down,” he said looking directly into the cameras. Reporters began yelling more questions at the detective. “That’s all I have for now ladies and gentlemen.”

  The cameras panned away from him and onto the sealed body bag that was being rolled out of room 109 on a stretcher. The stretcher was placed into the back of a waiting ambulance. The paramedics slammed the rear doors shut with a sense of finality.

  $$$

  “No, no, no, NOOO!” Meka screamed out hysterically at the top of her lungs. She had just finished watching the newscast in which Detective Patterson had stared into the cameras and practically gloated about murdering her brother. She’d always known there was a possibility Ant would be killed. But now that it had actually happened it was too much for her to bear. Meka’s heart was overwhelmed with pain and guilt. A part of her was gone forever and she’d never even get the chance to say goodbye. It wasn’t supposed to have ended like this. Not like this. “Nooooo!”