by K'wan
ANIMAL 4.5
LAST RITES
K’WAN
ANIMAL IV: Last Rites
This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to real people, living or dead, actual events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended to give the fiction a sense of reality. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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Write 2 Eat Concepts
Animal 4.5 @2017 by Kwan Foye
Printed in the United States of America
All Rights Reserved, including the rights to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Write 2 Eat Concepts, Rights Department,
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First Edition
Book and Jacket Design: Baja Ukweli
Cataloging in Publication data is on file with the library of Congress
ISBN 978-0-9981061-0-6
Printed in USA
PROLOGUE
“How long has he been like that?”
“Ever since he got the news,” Ashanti responded without bothering to look over his shoulder. He was standing in the doorway of Abel’s bedroom. Ashanti’s eyes were fixed intently on the man sitting on the edge of the queen-sized bed. The man’s back was to them, and his face turned towards the window, sad eyes staring out, yet seeing nothing. For as long as Ashanti had known his friend and mentor, he had always seemed invincible, courageous enough to stand against any and all odds, and determined enough to come out on top every time…or at least he had been. Since he had received the phone call a day before, he seemed a mere shell of his former self. Ashanti had never seem him that broken and it scared him.
“So he hasn’t said anything since?” the visitor asked.
“Oh, he’s spoken, but only half of it was coherent. His rage was clear enough, though,” Ashanti said, remembering Animal’s first reaction after receiving Kahllah’s call. At first, he was too shocked to speak, instead only able to gasp for air and fight back sobs, but when he did find his voice, he roared. Animal went into a blind fury; salivating and trying to smash everything, he could get his hands on, including their hostage, George. It took the combined efforts of Ashanti, Cain, Abel, and an injection of the same sedative they used to keep George quiet to still Animal.
Ashanti felt his homie’s pain and wanted to kill George too, but he was the only bargaining chip they had. Acting off emotions and killing Lilith’s son would do little to help them get Animal’s children back or avenge the murder of his wife. When Animal finally woke from his drug-induced slumber, he was calmer, but he was also different. They had all tried to rouse him, in one way or another, but he was non-responsive. It was like his mind had folded in on itself and he was trapped somewhere inside.
“Damn, Blood, why am I just finding all this out? If there was trouble, I should’ve been one of the first to know about it,” the visitor said angrily.
This time, Ashanti did look at the visitor. His eyes were hard and cold. They no longer held the glint of the mischievous kid he remembered, but those of a young man who had seen firsthand the worst the world had to offer. “Nobody knew you were out. It’s not like you announced that you were home from prison, or even bothered to reach out to me. Had I not run into Nef I’d have still been thinking you was upstate.”
“I had to get on my feet. You know my style; I didn’t wanna come around niggas while I wasn’t correct, looking like I wanted a hand out. I’ve always stood on my own, so I needed to get back right before I made my presence felt. Maybe if you visited more or wrote a nigga, I could’ve kept you abreast of current events,” the visitor shot back.
Ashanti bristled at the truth in his words. “Yeah, maybe I could’ve done a better job at keeping in contact, but I sent you bread once a month like clockwork since you been down.”
“Indeed you did, and I appreciated that, my nigga, but when you spend twenty four hours a day looking at walls, and eating shit from the cops, sometimes it’s nice to see a friendly face once in a while. But I ain’t here to point fingers; I’m here to pay my respects to my best friend.” The visitor glanced at Animal. He could feel the pain rolling off him in waves. He knew how much Animal loved Gucci and couldn’t imagine what he must’ve been going through. Losing someone you loved could do irreparable damage, which is one of the reasons he refused to commit to a woman. There was no doubt in his mind that one day he would die in the streets, and he didn’t want to inflict that on whoever was foolish enough to fall in love with him. “So, how you wanna play this?”
“I wish I knew,” Ashanti said. “I’m a soldier, Animal has always been our general, so we fed off his lead, but as you can see, he isn’t in much of a position to lead us right now. I’ve put a few things in motion, and Kahllah is handling the business with Gucci in California, but as far as a battle plan, the final call is on Animal. It’s his woman who was killed, and his children who are kidnapped. This is a delicate decision and I wouldn’t dare try and make it for him.”
“Then I guess we need to hear it from the horse’s mouth,” the visitor said, entering the bedroom.
“Good luck with that. I told you he hasn’t said anything since yesterday,” Ashanti told him.
“That’s because you’re not speaking the right language.” The visitor continued into the room. He shrugged out of his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, showing off his muscular forearms. He had always been big, but spending the last few years in prison had turned him into a hulk.
“One last thing I need to get off my chest,” Ashanti called after him. The visitor paused. “Welcome home, Brasco.”
*
Brasco took cautious steps and came to stand within a few feet of Animal. He wasn’t sure what frame of mind he was in, and didn’t want to risk getting too close. He had seen Animal when his emotions took over and it wasn’t a pretty sight. “Animal,” he called softly. Animal’s eyes flickered, but beyond that, there was no response. Brasco moved to stand directly in Animal’s line of vision, but Animal continued staring in the direction of the window as if he was looking through him. “Animal, first I’d like to offer my condolences for the loss of your wife. Gucci was a good woman and I’m sorry. Now, I know you’re hurting, but I’m gonna need you to shake it off so we can decide what should be done next. Nobody wants to make any moves without your say so.”
Animal said nothing.
Brasco cast a glance to the doorway, where Ashanti was standing. Ashanti shrugged his shoulders, as if to say, “I told you so.”
Brasco clapped his massive hands in front of Animal’s face, making an almost thunderous sound. “Animal, are you in there?” Animal blinked, but that was the extent of his reaction. When Brasco went to rejoin Ashanti, his face was saddened. “I see the lights on, but ain’t nobody home.”
“I tried to tell you. Brasco, you might as well give it a rest. Animal will come around in his own time or he won’t. It doesn’t change the fact that we got shit to do,” Ashanti said in a clipped tone. He hadn’t meant to be so sharp with his friend, but his frustration was starting to bubble over. “Let’s head back into the living room. I got a few more things I need to holla at you about while we still have the apartment to ourselves.”
Brasco followed Ashanti into the hall, but stopped short, sparing Animal one last glance. It bewildered him to see a man who was once so full of fire, reduced to the shell sitting on the edge of the bed. “Damn, my nigga. Where are you?”
*
Animal was in a dark place. He was sitting alone, on the beach outside his house…or an apparition of it. He was mere feet away from the rolling ocean, yet he could not smell the salt carried on the sea
. The full moon overhead was the only source of light, but instead of its normal soft white glow it was blood red, as if the man in the moon had opened up a vein and was bleeding out into the night sky. The sand was a sickly shade of gray, and felt rough and jagged, like broken glass. Animal ran his bare feet through the sand, feeling the sharp grains cutting into his soles. He examined one of his feet, expecting it to be cut and bleeding, but it was smooth and unmarked. He dug his feet in again, this time deeper, letting the pain wash over him. Pain was his anchor to the dark, yet peaceful, place.
Water splashed on his bare feet, drawing his attention to the ocean. It looked all wrong. Instead of rolling blue waves, he found clashes of an inky blackness that could’ve just as easily passed for tar instead of water. Animal cringed, but it wasn’t the sight of the black sea that disturbed him, it was what he saw when he looked deeper. Just beneath the surface, he saw faces, dozens of them…the faces of his victims. Those whom he had either killed or caused their deaths stared back at him from just beneath the surface. He knew each face, remembered each death, and each reason. Every face had a story. Animal felt no guilt or remorse about any of the poor souls dwelling in the murky water save for one…the one he couldn’t bear to look at because of the pain it caused him. The one, of all of them, that he didn’t see coming.
Gucci was his rock, his rider, his rib…she was the person who he had pledged to spend the rest of his life with, and she had earned it. Gucci had been with him through thick and thin, never turning her back on Animal, no matter what he had put her through. Losing Gucci was like someone sucking Animal’s soul from his body, and leaving just an empty husk. He felt nothing, not compassion, not grief, not even his ever-faithful companion, rage could be found within him. Animal was totally numb, floating in the dark limbo that was left of his life. Gucci had loved, honored, and obeyed her husband until death finally did them part, a death that he blamed himself for. Had he only taken a minute to think, instead of letting his sense of honor control his actions, maybe he wouldn’t have followed Red Sonja so blindly, and Gucci would still be alive.
“I have failed you, my love,” Animal whispered to his wife’s ghost.
“A wise woman once told me; if you give people flowers when they’re living, you need not be burdened by guilt when they pass. Kindness in life goes much further than it does in death, where it can’t be appreciated,” a familiar voice said from behind him.
Animal cocked his head to once side, but didn’t turn around. He didn’t need to see the speaker to know whose voice it was. He was yet another apparition in the dark place Animal has banished himself to. It seemed all the people and reasons why he had hated himself resided there. “Be gone, specter and leave me to my grieving,” Animal grumbled.
“This isn’t the inside of my head, it’s yours. You’re the architect of everything here, including me,” the man stepped from the shadows and into the moonlight. He was tall with a shaved head and rough salt and pepper stubble covering both sides of his chiseled chin. Smoothing the folds of his robe, he took a seat in the sand next to Animal. “So, is this what it’s come to; another round of you retreating in on yourself instead of standing up and facing life? Do you never tire of wallowing in your own self-pity?”
“They killed Gucci,” Animal said in response to the question.
“As I warned you they would when you insisted on pursuing her.” He scooped up a mound of sand with his right hand and let it trickle into his left. “A man cannot live in two worlds and not expect them to spill into each other,” he said, watching the sand overflow from his palm and blow away on a phantom wind that seemed to have come from nowhere. “Have you not caused enough accidental deaths in your young life to know that by now?”
“Is that what you’ve come here for, to rub my shortcomings in my face?” Animal asked.
The man turned his head slightly to regard Animal, showing the black patch that covered one of his eyes. “Quite to the contrary, my bastard seed. I’ve come to resurrect you.”
Animal gave a soft chuckle. “Even from the grave you’re still my guardian angel, huh Priest?”
Priest shrugged. “A parent’s work is never truly done, as this whole ordeal should’ve taught you.” Priest laid his hand on Animal’s shoulder, and bid him to stand. Priest looked at his son almost lovingly. “My heart weeps for what has happened to you tonight, my son. The devil has come into your home and left her taint on everything you hold dear. Now the question remains, what do you intend to do?”
Animal shook his head in frustration. “My head is just all over the place. Everything is fucked up and I’m the cause, as always. I’ve failed everyone who has ever depended on me to keep them safe. Father, for the first time in my life I don’t know what to do.”
“You do what comes naturally, murder your enemies,” Priest said as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “Animal, I don’t pretend to know your pain because after your mother I’ve never allowed another woman into my heart, but I do know what it’s like to lose your children to circumstances beyond your control. Child, in your short life you have been violated in the most intimate of ways, but no offense you’ve suffered can compare to what has happened to your family. Every minute that those involved are allowed to breathe God’s good air is a mockery to not only your pedigree as a harbinger of death, but it’s an offense to the memory of every soldier who has laid down their life in the name of your survival.”
Animal dropped to his knees and dug his fists in the sand. As Priest spoke, a slow fire began to build in Animal’s gut. Kastro, Gladiator, Mimi, even Priest. They had all given their lives so that Animal could have the fairytale ending with a wife and a couple of kids. By not taking action, he was dishonoring their memories and he owed them more. When he looked up at his father, his eyes burned with hatred.
“I’m going to kill them, the men who touched my family.” Animal’s voice was laced with pain.
Priest placed a hand atop his son’s mop of curls. “Not just those men, you will kill them all…mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters. Their entire bloodline must be extinguished.”
“Yes, there will be blood,” Animal agreed.
Priest smiled like the proud father that he was. “So it is said, so it shall be done.” When he removed his hand from Animal’s head, a spiked crown of thrones had appeared on it. “Take up your pistols, and cleanse the world in their vengeful fire.”
PART I
AWAKENINGS
CHAPTER 1
When Red Sonja returned to the apartment, she found Ashanti and an unfamiliar face, huddled around the kitchen table locked in a deep conversation. When they noticed her standing there, the conversation abruptly stopped.
“You know when you enter a room and everybody stops talking, it gives the impression that you were the topic of conversation,” Red Sonja said, setting the bags she was carrying on the counter. She had made a supply run while the men stayed behind to attend to Animal.
“Nah, you weren’t the topic of conversation,” Ashanti said. “At least not this one,” the man she’d never met chimed in.
“The name is Brasco,” he stood and extended his hand. “Sonja,” she told him, but ignored his hand. This was her first time meeting Brasco, but she’d heard more than a few stories about him from Animal. He probably talked about Brasco more than he did Ashanti, which irritated her. She had a natural dislike for anyone who represented any part of Animal’s life prior to her.
“So, you’re the infamous Red Sonja?” Brasco openly let his eyes roll over her. Sonja’s fire engine red hair hung loosely around her tanned shoulders. The jeans she wore were so tight that he could see her camel-toe through the fabric. He had to admit, she was far prettier than he imagined her to be from Ashanti’s stories.
“The way you’re looking at me says you’re either trying to imagine what my pussy tastes like or thinking about taking a swing at me.”
“Maybe a bit of both,” Brasco flashed a wicked grin. “Knock it off, Brasco. We a
in’t got time for this shit,” Ashanti cut in.
“Kick back, Blood. You know I would never push up on anything that belongs to the homie Animal,” Brasco said.
“I’m not property to be owned, and you’d do well to remember that when speaking to me or about me,” Red Sonja said seriously. “Ashanti, what is this knucklehead doing here?” “Brasco is going to help us with our little problem. We’re gonna need some solid cats with us on this and he’s one of the most solid I know,” Ashanti told her.
Sonja rolled her steel grey eyes. “Just what we need, another wannabe-thug-ass nigga who’s itching to shoot somebody.”
“First of all, I ain’t no wannabe nothing. My resume speaks for itself. And furthermore, I ain’t itching to shoot somebody; I’m itching to shoot any and everybody who had a hand in this,” Brasco said with conviction.
“I hear you talking, tough guy,” Sonja said sarcastically. “You gonna hear my pistol too when the time comes for me to let that muthafucka bark.”
“Well, now that the two of you are acquainted, can we get back to business?” Ashanti’s voice betrayed his frustration.
Red Sonja gave Brasco one more dirty look for good measure, before addressing Ashanti. “Any word from The Lotus?”
“The last time I spoke to her she was cleaning up the mess in California and then jumping on a plane to follow a lead into this Brotherhood angle,” Ashanti told her.
A horrified expression crossed Red Sonja’s face. “You mean clean up as in…”
“No, she would never desecrate Gucci’s body like that. She’s already in the city morgue, but Kahllah has a friend on the inside that is going to conveniently misplace her paperwork for a time so they can’t identify her just yet.”
“That’s cool for a temporary solution, but how long do you think we’ll be able to keep a corpse lost in the shuffle?” Sonja asked. “Eventually, it’s going to come out that Gucci is dead and when that happens, it’s going to play out like a Lifetime movie. A woman is brutally murdered, and her fiancé, who happens to have a history of violence, is nowhere to be found. Care to take a guess as to who the prime suspect will be?”
