by K'wan
Her name was Linda Carver, and she lived in an apartment building off 161st Street and the Grand Concourse in the Bronx. The lobby door to her building was locked, but Zo just waited around until someone was coming out and slipped in. Bypassing the elevator, Zo hiked up the eight flights of stairs to her floor. He crept to Linda’s door and listened for sounds of movement inside. Zo could hear the television playing softly. He wasn’t sure if anyone was awake in the house at that late hour or if they’d just left the TV on, but he had to go in regardless. Time wasn’t his friend, and he had to silence the witness before she could bury him.
Getting past the apartment door lock was simple enough for Zo. Breaking and entering had been his thing before he’d started trapping with his brother, and there weren’t very many locks that he couldn’t pick. Moving as quietly as he could, Zo turned the knob and slipped inside.
The apartment was dark, but Zo could see the light from the television in the living room. With the 9mm he’d borrowed from Priest clutched in his hand, he crept down the hall and peeked around the corner into the living room. There was an older woman sitting up sleeping on the couch. On her lap was the crossword puzzle she’d been working on when she nodded off. Zo left the woman to her slumber and made his way to the bedroom. The door was ajar, and he could see someone sleeping on the queen-sized bed with her back to him. The glow from the street lamp outside the window illuminated enough of her face for Zo to know it was the girl he’d come to murder.
Zo crept into the bedroom, with his gun aimed at the sleeping girl’s back. His heartbeat pounded in his ears so loudly that he found it hard to concentrate. He was no stranger to death or murder, but he had never killed a woman before. It went against his code, but Linda hadn’t left him a choice. It was her or him.
When the girl stirred, Zo froze like a roach on the wall. She mumbled something in her sleep, followed by loud snoring. Zo figured he had to hurry up before the girl’s snoring woke the old woman up. He retrieved a pillow that had fallen off the bed and placed it over his gun. It would muffle the sound of the blast. Zo angled the gun and the pillow at her head and crept forward, finger tightening on the trigger. He was right on top of her and about to ruin her white sheets when he saw what he had missed when he first entered the room: a baby nestled on the bed next to Linda.
She was a beautiful infant girl, with bright and alert eyes that were staring right up at Zo. She stared at him curiously, while cooing and making little spit bubbles with her mouth. Zo ignored the little girl and lowered the pillow just above Linda’s head so he could deliver the kill shot. He tried not to look at the baby and stayed focused on her mother, but his eyes kept drifting back. Even with him holding the big black gun, she seemed to be more curious about the man in her mommy’s room than afraid of him. The child was so innocent, so undeserving of the fate he was about to condemn her to by taking her mother away.
“I can’t,” Zo whispered. He knew that if he didn’t kill Linda, then it was likely over for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to make that little girl an orphan. Before he accepted that kind of mark on his soul, he’d rather take his chances in the courtroom. As silently as he’d entered, Zo exited the apartment. He could only hope that in the future, Linda would give the child the best possible chance for making something of herself, since it was the child she owed her life to.
• • •
Zo made hurried steps down Linda’s hallway, shaking his head as he thought back to what he’d almost done and why he was in the position to have to do it. “I’m bugging,” Zo said to himself while wiping the gun down with his shirt. When he passed the building’s compactor room, he threw the gun down the trash chute. His life was spinning out of control, and he had to restore order to it while he still could. He was going to go to Porsha’s and tell her everything. In the morning, he would call the lawyer and see where he stood with the charges the police were trying to slap on him.
Zo walked hurriedly from Linda’s building to the corner, where he began trying to hail a taxi.
“What’s up, Houdini?” someone called from behind him.
When Zo turned around, something crashed into his face. He fell flat on his ass in the street, dazed and bleeding from the mouth. Stars danced before his eyes, and when he finally got his wits about him, he found himself staring up at Detective Alvarez, holding a nightstick.
“You know, I always pegged you as the smart one of the bunch,” Alvarez began. “But apparently, you’re just as fucking stupid as the rest of them. Imagine my surprise when the sergeant calls my partner’s phone to tell him that he forgot to give him the zip code with the address he requested. I wouldn’t have thought much of it, if it weren’t for the fact that I’ve been at the hospital all night with Brown while he was being treated for a concussion.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just out taking a late-night walk,” Zo told him.
“Horse shit, and you know it.” Alvarez kicked him. He reached down and grabbed Zo by the collar, snatching him to his feet. “You just happen to be taking a walk in the same neighborhood where the witness to your bullshit lives?”
“Man, I don’t know nothing about—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Alvarez said, cutting him off. “I’ve been hearing that G-code shit all night, and it’s starting to sound like a broken record. I caught you with your hands in the cookie jar this time, Zo-Pound. I’m willing to bet that when we go upstairs to check on the witness, she’ll be just as dead as Rick Jenkins, and I can hang two bodies on you instead of one. You’re gonna ride the lightning for this one, homie.”
TWENTY-FIVE
WHEN ANIMAL ENTERED THE UPSTAIRS apartment, he found Gucci sitting at the desk, hunched over the laptop. He peered over her shoulder and saw her sifting through news reports of the rash of violence that had broken out in the city. Her teary eyes were fixed on a photo of a charred SUV that marked the final resting place of a twelve-year-old boy.
“Don’t be reading that junk, Gucci. It’s only going to upset you.” Animal closed the laptop.
“I think it’s a little late for that,” Gucci told him. “Seeing all this stuff, I feel like history is repeating itself. I don’t want anyone else to die because of me.”
“Gucci, I think this stopped being about you a while ago.” Animal pulled her to her feet and hugged her. “We’re in a very dark situation, but as long as we hold each other down, there’s light at the end of the tunnel. You with me, ma?”
“You know I am,” Gucci said confidently.
Animal leaned in and kissed her passionately. “That’s what I’m talking about.” He patted her on the ass. “We’ve decided to give Priest a shot before we exercise plan B.”
Gucci frowned. “Animal, I know that’s your dad, but you really don’t know him enough to place blind trust in him.”
“I don’t place blind trust in anybody,” Animal said.
“Even me?” she asked.
“His plan can’t put us in any worse a position than we’re already in,” Animal said, ignoring her question. “Priest is a wild card, but he’s probably the best card in this shitty deck we’ve been dealt.”
“I still don’t like him. I wasn’t a fan of his after he kidnapped us, but I became less of a fan after what he did to Kahllah,” Gucci said.
“What happened?” Animal asked.
Gucci went to the door and peeked up and down the hallway to make sure it was empty. With a soft click, she closed and locked the door. “Baby, I’ve known some monstrous men in my day, but none quite like your father.” She went on to tell him the story.
When Priest had returned and found out that Kahllah had allowed Animal to escape, he was surprisingly calm. Without saying a word, he went behind the pew and opened a small wooden box that he kept on the floor. When he came back, he was holding what looked like two leather whips braided together. Kahllah gave Gucci a weak smile before getting up and removing her shirt. She walked to the altar, dressed only in her bra and le
ggings, and braced her hands against it. Over her shoulder, she gave Priest a defiant look, just before the first lash fell.
“He beat her like a dog, Animal,” Gucci said, trying to keep from crying again. She pitied Kahllah, as Priest tore into her over and over, forcing her to recite verses from the Bible on command. It was the sickest thing Gucci had ever seen.
“That’s some dirty shit,” Animal said heatedly. He thought back to his childhood and some of the epic beatings he’d gotten from Eddie. “Did she fight back?”
“No, and when I tried to stop him, she wouldn’t let me. She said it was her punishment for breaking her vow. She actually believed that she deserved to be beaten.”
“Priest has got that girl all fucked up. Makes me grateful that he didn’t raise me, but that don’t make the shit he’s doing to Kahllah OK. I should say something.” Animal stood.
Gucci grabbed him by the hand. “Animal, I feel bad for what happened, too, but Kahllah is the classic case of a battered woman. No matter what we do or say, she’s gonna always go back to Priest, because she’s programmed to think that abuse equates to love. The only person who can cut that chain binding her to Priest is Kahllah.”
Gucci had a point, but it still bothered Animal. Kahllah was twisted in the head, but she was still good peoples. She had done what she could to help Animal, including making their escape at the warehouse possible. “I should at least check on her. I owe her that much.” He pulled away from Gucci.
• • •
Animal knocked on the door he’d seen Kahllah disappear through earlier, but he got no answer. He placed his ear to the door and heard a low mumbling. Curious, he pushed the door open and stuck his head inside.
Kahllah had her back to the door, kneeling in the corner. She was wearing only a tank top and spandex shorts. Her hair was pulled up, so Animal could see the tattoo on the back of her neck. It was a dragon swallowing its tail. Kahllah’s body was way more fit than Animal had thought, muscular but still feminine arms, smooth back, and rounded shoulders. Her skin was almost perfect, except for a scar that went from her tank top and over her shoulder. As Animal looked closer, he noticed that the scar wasn’t alone. Her body was marked by whelps, some obviously still fresh judging by the faint red stains on her shirt. Animal moved closer and peered over her shoulder. She was hunched over a small altar, deep in prayer. On the altar was a crucifix and a big black gun.
“Are you just going to stand there gawking at me, or do you need something?” Kahllah said, without turning around.
“How did you—”
“In my line of work, maximizing the use of all your senses increases your life expectancy.” Kahllah stood and turned around. She tapped her nose. “You stink of smoke.”
Animal smelled himself. “I guess I do, don’t I? Look, I didn’t mean to intrude on you.”
“You mean more than you already have with your street war? Don’t worry about it, I don’t have anything better to do,” Kahllah said sarcastically. “So what brings you down here? Someone else need to be rescued from a police firing squad?” Seeing the embarrassed expression on Animal’s face, Kahllah gave him a half smile. “I was only joking.”
“I didn’t realize you had a sense of humor,” Animal said.
“In this world, you have to find something to laugh at, or else you’ll be crying all the time.”
Animal nodded. “That’s some deep shit.”
“Nah, that’s some real shit,” Kahllah said, taking her hair down and letting it spill freely around her shoulders. “So have your friends gotten to their destinations safely?”
“I imagine so. If they don’t show up tomorrow morning, I guess I’ll know different.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about it. If I’ve learned anything from watching Ashanti and Zo, it’s that those two don’t lay down easily. Zo’s indecisiveness is likely going to get him hurt one day, and Ashanti is an accident waiting to happen, but if you’re going to war, then they’re as good to have at your side as anyone.”
“Yeah, those are my dudes. Kahllah, I never had a chance to thank you for everything you’ve been doing.”
“No thanks necessary. I’m just doing my duty, nothing more,” Kahllah said, grabbing a T-shirt from the back of the chair in the corner. When she pulled it over her head, she winced a bit.
“You OK?” Animal asked, meaning the welts.
“These are nothing. I’ve had far worse injuries,” she told him.
“I’ll bet, with a name like Black Lotus. Still, I feel kind of fucked up about what happened to you because you helped me,” Animal said sincerely.
“I told you, it’s fine,” Kahllah insisted.
“No, it isn’t fine. Priest beats you to keep you loyal to him. Any man who beats on a woman is a sucka, and I can’t respect that.”
“Priest doesn’t beat me, he keeps me disciplined. The pain makes us numb and therefore incorruptible by the evils of the world,” Kahllah said, as if she was reading from a script.
“Is that what you believe, or is that what Priest has been drilling into your head for God knows how long?” Animal asked.
Kahllah didn’t answer right away. “Father loves me, he’s just trying to keep me from straying from the flock.”
Frustrated, Animal grabbed Kahllah by the arm and led her to the mirror mounted on the wall. When he turned her to face the mirror, she didn’t resist. “This isn’t love.” He turned her head so she could see the welt that snaked under her neck from where the whip had landed during her beating. “Love is to protect and nurture, not to abuse.”
Kahllah pulled away and turned her eyes from the mirror. “You don’t understand. I was broken, and he made me whole . . . he gave me purpose.”
“What purpose, to obey him without question or be beaten?” Animal was heated.
“And what would you have me do, Animal? Should I abandon the man who was my salvation and go out into the world to chase love like you have?” Kahllah matched his tone.
“No, but you should at least be given the choice.”
“What do you know about choices when you haven’t acted of your own free will in years? Everything you do is in the name of someone else,” Kahllah spit.
“I don’t wanna argue with you, Kahllah. I’m just concerned, that’s all,” Animal told her.
Kahllah snorted. “Don’t let that brother-and-sister shit go to your head, Animal. We share no blood. When this is done, you’ll leave here and forget about me, as I’ll likely forget about you.”
“That’s where you wrong, Kahllah. See, we don’t have to be blood to be family. To me, actions hold more weight than genetics, or haven’t I shown that during my little reunion with Daddy dearest? And contrary to what you think, I won’t forget you when I leave here. I never forget kindnesses paid on me, and I always return them,” Animal told her, and left the room.
Kahllah stood there for a while, fuming and trying to keep her anger in check. She was frustrated because Animal’s words had taken her there, and she prided herself on control. Looking at her trembling reflection in the mirror, Kahllah felt disgusted. With a scream, she grabbed the altar and hurled it against the mirror, shattering the image staring back at her.
• • •
“Sounds like a sibling spat,” Priest said playfully when Animal came out of Kahllah’s room. He was sitting on one of the scuffed wooden benches in the front row of the church. “I wonder what it is that you’ve done to get a reaction out of the Black Lotus?”
“Why do you wanna know, so you can have a reason to whip her again?” Animal snapped.
“Discipline is a necessary evil, especially with your generation. It’s the lack of discipline among you young rebels that has the game in so much chaos.”
“So says the man who didn’t have the discipline to keep his family together,” Animal capped. “Priest, you talk all this shit, but you’re a hypocrite and a fucking bully. Tell me, does it give you some kind of thrill when you beat Kahllah with that strap?�
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“I do what I must to keep Kahllah focused, so that she can live long enough to look back and appreciate the things I’ve taught her. You should know better than anyone how cruel the world is. Those who rush off unprepared are swallowed by this madness. What you call abuse I call survival training. In Kahllah, I have created a perfect specimen. Long after you and I are gone and forgotten, the legacy of the Black Lotus will live on.”
Animal looked at Priest as if he had a screw loose. “Do you hear yourself? You’re talking about Kahllah as if she’s some type of lab experiment. She’s a person, you fucking monster!”
Moving faster than Animal’s eyes could follow, Priest was on his feet and standing directly in front of him. “You’d do well to watch how you speak to me, boy.”
Animal glared at Priest, lips parted, grilles glistening. “That boogey-man shit only works on little girls, homie. I’m a grown-ass man.”
“You’re talking like you’re thinking about doing something. Need I remind you of what happened the last time you tried to raise up against me?”
Animal slipped off his harness and laid it and his two guns on the ground. “Ain’t no chain around my ankle this time, Padre.”
“I see them nuts getting too heavy for your jeans again.” Priest took a few steps back, smiling sinisterly, lips curled up into two perfect pink bows, identical to Animal’s lips. He spread his arms. “There ain’t nothing but space and opportunity between us. You wanna dance, come on and get your ass kicked.”
Animal lunged forward. This time, his attack wasn’t wild and mindless; he was focused and calculating with his blows. Priest blocked the first two, but the hook to the stomach caught him full on. He was surprised at how strong his son was when he was at full strength. He lowered his head as if he was winded, and Animal took the bait. When he tried to grab Priest in a headlock, Priest lifted him off his feet and slammed him onto the ground.
