by K'wan
Dave moved cautiously down the right wall of the warehouse, clutching a Mac 11. His eyes scanned the dark corners and nooks on the oversized shelves, alert for anything out of place. The warehouse hadn’t been used in quite some time, but it was still cluttered with trash and abandoned containers. Some were even big enough to hide a man, so there was no telling where Ashanti might pop up from.
A can clanked to the left. Dave spun and saw someone moving between the aisles. Reflexively, his finger tapped the trigger of the Mac 11. The bullets looked like fireflies, whisking through the dark and ripping through their target. Holding the machine gun at the ready, Dave moved in to finish him off. That’s when Dave realized that it wasn’t a man he’d assassinated but a mannequin draped in a dry-rotted dress.
“You missed, muthafucka.” A voice came from behind Dave. He turned and found himself staring down the barrel of a .357.
Dave dropped his gun and raised his hands in surrender. “Fam, I’m jus’ the help. Can I get a pass?”
Ashanti weighed it. “Fuck yo pass.” He pulled the trigger and blew Dave’s brains out. Before the body hit the ground, Ashanti was already moving in on his next target.
• • •
Chess dropped to a crouch and held his weapon at the ready when he heard the gunshots. Unlike Dave and Will, he was a soldier, and battle was his element. This was the reason Ty had asked Chess to come along. He knew that he wouldn’t flinch or hesitate when it came time to spill blood. What he didn’t know was that Chess was planning on double-crossing him and keeping the fifty thousand for himself.
“And then there were three.” Ashanti taunted him from the darkness. His voice echoed off the warehouse walls, so Chess couldn’t figure out exactly where it was coming from.
“Why don’t you stop hiding like a lil’ bitch and let’s square off?” Chess swept his gun back and forth, looking for movement in the shadows.
“I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you get the fuck out of here while you still can?” Ashanti countered. “If you leave now, I won’t send you home to your mama missing your face.”
“Sorry, but I got fifty thousand reasons to stay.” Chess tightened his grip on the gun.
“Fifty stacks? Swann must want me dead pretty bad if that’s what he dropped.” Ashanti chuckled. “Ever ask yourself why he’s so eager to silence me? What do I know that’s worth fifty thousand to keep it from getting out?”
“Can’t say that I know or care, but those fifty stacks will make a hell of a difference in my life right now,” Chess told him. From his peripheral vision, he could see faint movement between one of the shelves and an oversized container on his left.
“Not if you don’t live long enough to collect it. This is your last warning. Leave or get peeled,” Ashanti told him.
“I think I’ll take my chances.” Chess fired in the direction of Ashanti’s voice.
“Fuck!” Chess heard Ashanti yell.
Chess saw Ashanti hobbling in the darkness, trying to escape, but he wouldn’t be denied. He fired twice more, hitting him in the back and dropping him.
“Got you, lil’ nigga.” Chess moved in on the injured Ashanti. He was crawling on his belly, trying to escape. Chess shot him in the back of the thigh. “You ain’t talking big shit no more, are you?” He flipped him over, ready to finish him off. Chess was shocked to see that it was Will and not Ashanti whom he had shot.
“Fuck,” was all Chess could say when he felt the cold touch of the .357 behind his ear.
“With no Vaseline,” Ashanti said sinisterly.
“As soon as you touch that trigger, I’m gonna touch your bitch.” Ty stepped from behind a tall shelf. He was holding Fatima in a reverse choke hold, keeping her body between him and Ashanti.
Seeing his girl hemmed up made Ashanti furious. “You bitch-ass coward.” He turned his gun on Ty. “I’ll rock yo faggot ass if you touch my lady!”
Ty huddled further behind Fatima and put his gun to her temple. “All that tough shit sounds good, but you and I both know you don’t wanna see this bitch’s brains. Now, stop fronting like you don’t love this ho and put that hammer down, before I feel it necessary to motivate you.” He cocked the hammer back with his thumb.
Ashanti felt like he had just been kicked in the chest, seeing Fatima in the clutches of danger, knowing he had put her there. In his mind, he could hear Animal’s voice the day he first taught him how to shoot a gun. In battle, your weapon is your best friend. Never surrender your gun, even if it means the death of one of your homies. You keep your strap and avenge him another day. Until that moment, Ashanti had always taken everything Animal said as the gospel without a second thought, but this was different. It wasn’t one of the homies, it was his girl.
“A’ight.” Ashanti held the gun up. Slowly, he placed it on the ground.
Now that Ashanti was disarmed, Chess rediscovered his courage. He picked the .357 up and held it like a club, barrel first, and approached Ashanti. “So you was gonna fuck me with no Vaseline, huh?” He slapped Ashanti in the head with the butt of the gun and dropped him. “Before I kill your bitch ass, I’m gonna make you hurt,” Chess promised, and began stomping the life out of Ashanti.
• • •
“That’s enough!” Ty shouted. “Bring his lil’ ass over here where I can see him.”
The shooter dragged the bloodied Ashanti by his shirt across the floor over to where Ty was standing with Fatima and tossed him at Ty’s feet. Ty shoved Fatima to the side and hovered over Ashanti.
“So this is the protégé, the one they say was next in line to play the role of the boogey man.” Ty shook his head sadly. “Look at you now.” He kicked Ashanti in the face.
Ashanti pushed himself up on his knuckles and spit blood onto the floor. “You got me, and that’s what it is. Soldiers understand the rules, but my lady is a civilian. Let her go.”
Ty twisted his lips. “Yo, what is it with all you niggaz and these broads? First Animal and now you. When are you gonna learn that in war, a chick is only good for two thing: making you lose focus or crippling you with grief when you watch her die over your bullshit.” He turned the gun on Fatima.
“No!” Ashanti screamed at the top of his lungs, but his voice was overshadowed by another sound: the loud roar of an engine.
The window overlooking the spot where they were standing was suddenly flooded with light. Against the glare, a silhouette formed. It was a dark angel, wings spread and menacing as it swooped ever closer.
“Sweet Jesus.” One of the shooters gasped.
“Not Jesus. The Reaper,” Ashanti corrected him, before tackling Fatima to the ground and out of harm’s way.
• • •
Paulie hated the fact that Ty had left him on guard duty while the others got to join in the hunt for Ashanti. From the amount of money Swann had put on his head, he knew the kid was someone important, and it would’ve looked good on his résumé if he had been the one to take him down.
“I never get to see any action,” Paulie said in disgust, and sat on a milk crate in front of the warehouse.
Paulie spotted something coming in the direction of the warehouse. Curiously, he got up and squinted to get a better look at whoever was approaching. At first, Paulie thought it might’ve been the police or reinforcements, but upon closer inspection, he realized it was a lone motorcycle. Whoever it was wasn’t the police, and he damn sure wasn’t with Ty’s crew.
Paulie let off a burst of shots that perforated the dirt around the motorcycle. The rider swerved but kept coming. Paulie squeezed again, this time managing to hit the bike, shredding the front tire. Expertly, the rider popped a wheelie and continued coming at Paulie on one wheel. Paulie tried to fire again, but the gun jammed. It took him three attempts before he was able to dislodge the bullet, and by then, it was too late. Paulie let out a blood-curdling scream as the motorcycle tore up through his chest and his face when the rider used him as a human ramp.
TWENTY
EVERYT
HING SEEMED TO MOVE IN slow motion. The window exploded in a magnificent spray of glass when a ball of smoke and flame crashed through it. Against the backdrop of moonlight, a sneering gold and diamond grille became visible in the smoke. Animal swooped in like a dark horseman mounted on a pink demon steed. His arms were outspread, clutching the Pretty Bitches as he threw himself from the bike.
Ty dove for cover, but Chess wasn’t as quick to react. The motorcycle hit him and dragged him screaming across the floor, pinning him in a corner. Animal hit the ground in a roll and came up holding his Pretty Bitches. Chess was in his sights and at his mercy. “Die,” he hissed, and pulled the triggers. One by one, the guns flared to life, expelling vengeful hellfire from the barrels.
The bullets tore through Chess’s neck and torso, with the last one hitting him between his eyes. Before his light was snuffed out, his last thoughts were of the fifty thousand dollars he’d never get a chance to double-cross Ty for.
“You OK?” Ashanti rushed to Fatima to check her injuries, which he was thankful to see were minor, but she was terribly shaken up.
“Yeah, I’m fine, baby,” Fatima said, allowing Ashanti to help her to her feet.
“You’ve got more lives than a cat,” Ashanti said to his mentor.
“I guess that’s a blessing for you. Seems like I’m always saving your ass.” Animal embraced Ashanti. “Did you miss me?”
“Fuck no, I was just getting used to the title of being the hardest nigga alive,” Ashanti joked.
“Wait, is this Animal?” Fatima asked in wide-eyed shock. She had heard many tales of the brokenhearted killer, but seeing him in the flesh was surreal.
Animal greeted her with a nod. “The one and only.”
“I heard you were dead,” Fatima said.
“I get that a lot.” Animal cracked a half smile. “We can exchange pleasantries later. Right now, we need to get gone before the police come.” A flicker of movement caught his eye. “Move.” He shoved Ashanti and Fatima out of the way, just as several bullets tore through the floor between them.
Ty came from behind the smoky wreckage of the motorcycle, armed with Chess’s abandoned machine gun, letting off shots. “You fucked up putting your nose where it don’t belong, stranger.” He let off another burst, sending Animal scrambling for cover behind a crate. “Before I kill you and this bitch nigga you tried to save, why don’t you tell me who you are so I can make sure they spell your name right on your tombstone?”
Animal popped up from behind the crate, holding his Pretty Bitches. “The name is Animal, cocksucker.” He fired twice. The first bullet hit the motorcycle’s gas tank, soaking Ty’s clothes in gasoline. The second one struck the ground, igniting the flammable liquid.
Ty danced like an extra in Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” video as the flames licked his skin. He crashed into a pile of boxes, setting them and the wall on fire. Hungrily, the flames ate at the side of the warehouse and began nipping at the ceiling.
Animal stood over the suffering Ty and shook his head sadly. “Ashes to ashes, muthafucka,” he said, before putting two bullets in Ty’s head and taking him out of his misery.
“See what you get for fucking with a real nigga!” Ashanti shouted at Ty’s corpse.
“Stop playing, and let’s get the fuck outta here. I gotta get back to Gucci,” Animal told him.
“Where is she?” Ashanti asked.
“Somewhere she shouldn’t be, and I don’t wanna leave her there alone longer than I have to. Let’s make a move.” Animal led them to the warehouse door. The three of them left the burning warehouse like they had the devil on their heels. As soon as they made it out into the night air, they were blinded by flashing red and blue lights.
“This is the police. Get your fucking hands up!” someone shouted through a bullhorn. There were so many flashing lights that there was no way to tell how many of them were out there. It was clear that there would be no escape this time.
“Oh, shit, it’s the boys!” Ashanti shouted.
“What are we gonna do?” Fatima asked nervously.
“I ain’t going back in a cage for nobody. Die, pigs!” Animal raised his Pretty Bitches and started dumping at the police.
• • •
As soon as Alvarez and Brown pulled up to the front of the warehouse, they spotted the dead body lying outside the door. “What the fuck?” Brown said.
“Call it in,” Alvarez told his partner. While Brown made the call, Alvarez leaned over the backseat. He undid one of Zo’s handcuffs and chained him to the door. “In case you get any big ideas,” he told him before getting out of the car.
Slowly, the two detectives crept toward the body, guns drawn and alert for danger. Brown kneeled down beside the boy . . . or what was left of him. His face had been ripped apart by what looked like tire treads. From inside, they could hear a machine gun rattling off, which sent them scrambling back to the safety of their car.
“Fuck that, I’m not going in there until backup comes,” Brown said.
“Now, that’s something we can agree on,” Alvarez replied.
As if in answer to their prayers, the first of several blue-and-white units came screeching to a halt near their car. The two detectives straightened themselves and went to meet the uniformed officers.
“There’s a possible homicide suspect inside, and I’m not sure how many people he’s with or what’s going on. What I do know is that they’re working with some heavy fire, so proceed with caution. Fan out and surround the building,” Brown told them. He was the senior officer on the scene and therefore the one in charge.
The officers did as they were told. Within a few minutes, the building was surrounded by a sea of blue uniforms. The two detectives led a handful of the officers toward the warehouse entrance, ready to go in. Suddenly, the doors burst open, and three people came rushing out.
“This is the police. Get your fucking hands up!” a bullhorn blared. The spotlights illuminated the fugitives.
Just as Brown and Alvarez had suspected, Ashanti was at the center of the disturbance, but when they saw who he was with, both of their jaws dropped.
“Is that Animal?” Alvarez asked, in shock.
“Still think I’m crazy?” Brown raised his gun. He’d been trying to tell his partner for years that he didn’t believe the young killer had truly perished in the shootout that had almost claimed all three of their lives, but he was always dismissed as being obsessed.
“I’ll never doubt your gut again, partner,” Alvarez told him. “I say this time we put him down for good,” he whispered.
“That’s cold-blooded murder,” Brown pointed out.
Just then, Animal opened fire and sent them running for cover. The detectives ducked behind a patrol car as bullets ripped through the hood.
Alvarez looked at his partner. “It doesn’t seem like he’s going to give us a choice. Let’s end this once and for all.” He came up from behind the patrol car and opened fire.
• • •
Animal stood there, showing no fear, lighting up police cars and officers. His face was hard and determined as he blasted cop after cop. Ashanti was in a state of shock when Animal opened up on the police. Shooting out with cats in the streets was one thing, but this was the law! He was being pulled to the point of no return.
“Fuck it,” Ashanti said, and fired the .357. He had wasted most of his bullets trying to fight Ty and his men off, so it wasn’t long before the .357 clicked empty. “I’m out!” he shouted, tossing the empty gun.
“Get inside the warehouse,” Animal ordered, blowing the leg off a uniformed officer who was trying to creep in on his left.
“The building is on fire,” Ashanti pointed out.
“You’ve got a better chance in there than you do out here,” Animal said, ducking a bullet that whizzed past his ear. He returned fire, knocking down the cop who’d shot at him. “Go, Ashanti!”
“What about you?” Ashanti asked.
“Like you said, I’ve
got more lives than a cat. Get inside. I’ll be right behind you,” Animal told him.
Ashanti didn’t want to leave Animal’s side, but he knew he’d be more of a distraction than a help, standing there defenseless. He grabbed Fatima by the hand and led her back inside the burning warehouse.
The dozens of police officers on the scene provided Animal with more than enough targets, but he was focused on two in particular. He let off the Pretty Bitches, trying to tear Brown’s and Alvarez’s heads off, but they managed to make it to the safety of a patrol car. He had spared the detectives’ lives when he’d had the opportunity to kill them, and they repaid him by constantly hunting him. The game between them was going to end that night.
Alvarez popped up from behind the car and took a shot at Animal, but his fear kept him from aiming, so the shot went high. Animal returned fire with two shots of his own. There was a thunderous sound, and Animal moved just before a spray of buckshot tore up the ground where he’d been standing. Animal returned fire, backing up toward the warehouse entrance.
Coming to Ashanti’s rescue had taken Animal out of the frying pan and put him into the fire. He was outmanned, outgunned, on the losing end of the fight, and he knew it. He could hold the police off for a while, but it would only be a matter of time before they were all overrun and killed. After all the things he’d done, Animal knew that there was no way the police were going to take him alive, and even if they wanted to, he wasn’t going out like that. He would rather die than spend the rest of his life in a cage and away from Gucci.
Someone grabbed Animal from behind and pulled him deeper inside the warehouse. He had expected it to be Ashanti and was surprised when he was confronted by his father. He was holding Fatima around the neck, with his hand over her mouth. At his feet lay Ashanti.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Animal asked.
“It would seem I’m saving the lambs from the slaughter,” Priest told him. “You just couldn’t resist disobeying me, could you?”
“I couldn’t leave my homie,” Animal told him. He looked down at Ashanti’s body. “Is he dead?”
