Caribbean Rage

by Clington Quamie

  ‘Drive the fucking car…he’s coming for me!!!’ he reached over to Baptist. His voice trembled with fear.

  Sunday 6:05 pm

  Seven ……………

  Kamilla Anschuetz savoured every detail of the scenic tour as we cruised through the countryside and towards Shirley Heights.

  She offered me a hundred and fifty dollars to transport her and the youngster to the Heights. Shirley Heights was a few minutes away and the deal sounded more than fair. The restaurant was slow and Abdullah had already left with a full load of tourist. I accepted the offer shortly after having called Kaila and Marielli to brief them on my whereabouts. Besides, Shakira was more than capable of overseeing the operation in my absence.

  ‘Erickson! Look!’ the middle aged woman hauled her eight year old travel companion towards her to view a pasture of donkeys in Newfield village as we slowly drove by. It never ceased to amaze me how these tourists would be awestricken by the simplest of things on the island that local natives often overlooked. Kamilla was a lively but rigid woman. She videotaped the scenery as we drove along. We were just in time to witness a male donkey penetrating a younger female Ass. Kamilla instinctively covered Erickson’s eyes. The beastly organ that entered the female donkey caused it to let off an agonizing noise that sounded more like a scream than a bray.

  Kamilla shot me a knowing look over her shoulder. We both exploded into laughter. She caught all of the action on video. It was certainly going to be added to her collection of videos to be taken back to Germany.

  We dialogued somewhat as we went along. Kamilla told me that Erickson was her nephew. She had eyed Antigua as a possible holiday destination for many years but had only gotten the opportunity this time around. Erickson had topped his class and as a token of her appreciation, she had him accompany her to the beautiful little island. She also revealed that she was widowed and jokingly asserted that she was hoping to find her new husband on the island.

  We reached the mountain that led to Shirley Heights. Erickson lay dead asleep on the back seat. He appeared much more active on the beach when I first saw them. Kamilla’s head was halfway out of the Noah mini-bus I normally use to shuttle customers to and from Koconut Breeze. Her long curly hair connected with the gentle wind that oozed from every angle of the mountain and leveled with the moving transport. Her hand never left the video recorder. Every now and again she peeked over her shoulder to either shoot me a smile or ask another question. She was taking full advantage of the hundred and fifty dollars she’d offered me. As we progressed up the hill, the melodic rhythm of steel pan music filled the mini-bus.

  ‘ Oh my God!!! Is this Caribbean Steel Pan?’

  Kamilla shoved her head back inside the mini-bus and for the first time on our journey, she lowered the video recorder.

  ‘Yes it is…sweet Caribbean steel pan.’

  ‘I so love this kind of music?’ Kamilla’s jaw dropped in a childlike wonder. I immediately saw the youthfulness in her. ‘Soon enough we will be on top of the hill where you can take in as much of it as you like.’ I assured her. We got the summit of the hill where incoming and outgoing tourist passed each other like armies of ants gathering food during the summer in preparation of the cold winter days. My journey with them without a doubt came to an end. Kamilla’s had just begun. She awakened Erickson on the back seat. He was in a discombobulated state. I intended to find Abdullah and have him transport them to Jolly Harbour when the night’s activity was ended.

  ‘Are you leaving now?’ Kamilla inquired. It was as if she had read through my thoughts. She handed me two hundred dollars.

  ‘I’m thinking of heading out soon.’ I made no secret of my intention to head back to the restaurant.

  ‘I will pay you another two hundred to stay.’ her offer was convincing. I had nothing to lose. Koconut Breeze was covered by Shakira and other experienced staff. Besides, I hadn’t been to Shirley Heights in a while.

  ‘Consider it done!’ I accepted. Kamilla normally kept a smile on her face but my acceptance seemed to have brought her more glee. It was as if she knew beforehand I was going to accept. She placed another two hundred dollars in my hand before paying the entrance fee for all three of us.

  Eight ……………

  The dust of cocaine snorted by The Shadow took quick effect. Every nerve in his body began to twitch. His eyes went wild. He was ready for action.

  The target’s companion was approaching quickly. He was headed towards the driver’s side. The Shadow placed a firm grip on the Glock. He used the driver’s seat as a perfect cover. The heavy door flung open and the target’s companion didn’t care to inspect the Land Cruiser’s back seat. He slammed the door inwards then placed the key in the ignition.

  ‘Don’t move!’ The Shadow spooked the crap out of him. The cold piece of steel in his hand was positioned firmly to the back of the man’s head. He froze in his seat.

  ‘You tell me what I need to know or die!’ The Shadow’s voice turned winter cold.

  His captive was fear stricken. He trembled out of control.

  ‘Where is your buddy going?’

  ‘I don’t know…’

  ‘Where is the money?!’ The Shadow pressed the gun

  harder to his skull.

  ‘I don’t know…’

  ‘What about the envelope?’

  ‘I say I don’t fucking know!’ the man was defiant. There

  was no way he was going to snitch his friend. The Shadow took a quick glance across the street. The target was entering a Sedan Buick. He couldn’t allow him to get away. Without warning, he squeezed the trigger but the man on the front seat shifted just in time. His hand transformed into a knife that connected to The Shadow’s wrist just as the shot rang out. The bullet went through the windscreen and ricocheted of Diamond-Ice’s building.

  The target’s companion flung the Land Cruiser’s door open. He was quickly on the move.

  ‘Fuck!!!’ The Shadow was furious. He hadn’t seen that coming.

  The man seemed trained in some form of martial-arts. The Shadow’s wrist ached from the swift blow. He picked up the gun and dashed outside into the semidarkness.

  The man disappeared into the scampering crowd of revelers. The Shadow was now focused on the target. He would deal with his companion later. He had seen his face and he wasn’t going to let him escape a second time. A loud screech emanated from across the street as the tire of the Sedan Buick connected with bare road. The scampering crowd directed their focus across the street. The Shadow rang out two more shots. One connected with the car and shattered a right window. There was a renewed pandemonium within the crowd. The Shadow darted across the street and into his car. Thankfully, the bus that was parked ahead of him earlier vacated the parking leaving the coast clear. His car revivified another loud screech as he pulled out from where he was parked. The chase was on.

  ****

  Baptist hastily pulled away from his earlier parking spot. The man in dark clothing was advancing quickly. He held a gun steadfast and was taking aim at them

  ‘What the fuck is wrong with this guy!’ Baptist snapped. Smallmoney sat beside him totally nonplussed.

  ‘Answer me!’ Baptist barked at him. The man in dark clothing fired a shot. The Buick swayed out of control almost knocking over curious bystanders. One of the car windows shattered.

  Smallmoney instinctively ducked for cover.

  ‘Who the fuck is this guy that is firing at us!’ Baptist fury mounted.

  ‘I don’t know but he was hired to kill me!’

  ‘What? Kill you? And you drag me into your fucking shit?’ Baptist almost hit the brake.

  ‘Yousaidwehadadeal!’

  ‘Yeah, but I never said I wanted bullets flying over my fucking head? Tell me what kind of fucking shit are you in man?’ a loud squeal interrupted Baptist.

  He took a quick glance at his rear-view mirror. A black Mercedes was clearly in pursuit.

  ‘You never gave me the opportunity to explain bef
ore cutting the deal on your terms!’ Smallmoney was equally angry at Baptist.

  He too noticed the black Mercedes that was now on their trail. It occurred to him that he’d spotted the same car in a distant pursuit earlier during the evening before he and Little Kevin entered the Diamond-Ice Car Park.

  ‘I stole a large sum of money and now they want me dead!’ Smallmoney’s nervousness increased.

  ‘How much money we’re talking?’ Baptist accelerated. ‘Two million!’ Information concerning the envelope was withheld. It was none of Baptist business.

  ‘Two million dollars!!! Baptist got the urge to hit the brake again, ‘And you only offered me thirty Grand?’

  ‘I offered you nothing; you greedy sonofabitch! You named your price!’ Smallmoney’s focused on the black Mercedes Benz behind them.

  ‘You drag me into your fucking mess and now I’m a greedy sonofabitch? Here’s something to think about; the deal just changed! Half a million or you’re on your own!’ Baptist took a sharp turned into Market intentionally headed in the wrong direction. vehicles swerved out of control. Smallmoney was pleased with the move.

  The harbour where Baptist’s boat was anchored was just a few meters on the opposite side of Market Street. Going there wasn’t an option. There was no way this madman was going to find out who he was or where he lived. The pursuit was Smallmoney’s problem. Baptist remembered Shakira’s silky body. The thought of her being innocently killed sent chills up his spine. He checked his rear-view-mirror again. The black Mercedes was still in pursuit.

  ‘Who the fuck is this guy?!’ Baptist dipped into the accelerator. A yellow stoplight was approaching quickly. It Street and Oncoming was positioned in a dangerous four way crossroad. On either side of Market Street, motorists pulled away to avoid a collision with the two over-speeding cars. The stoplight turned red about three seconds before Baptist crossed. A split second later, there was a loud crash behind him that sounded like metal on metal. Baptist took another quick peek at his rear-view mirror. A truck had violently slammed the back of the black Mercedes. The impact sent the car spinning in the middle of the crossroad. Another incoming Suzuki connected with the Mercedes causing utter chaos. Vehicles drifted away, others slammed into each other. ‘Fuck yeah! Now that’s what I’m talking about!’ Smallmoney produced an uproarious hoot and patted Baptist on his shoulder as if they had all of a sudden became good buddies. The Buick travelled at full speed on Valley road. It overtook every moving object ahead. Smallmoney exchanged a momentary look with Baptist. They cracked up for the first time as a streak of telepathy flowed between them. Baptist seemed more relieved than his passenger. He continued to speed along valley road. The sound of siren filled the air behind them.

  ‘We must find our way back to the boat.’ Baptist looked across to Smallmoney. The man looked piteous. ‘But first, we need to go get my fucking money!’

  The Buick roared as it climbed Golden Grove hill. In less than no time Golden Grove was behind them. The car was speeding along Big Creek when Baptist saw it. The image of a fast moving battered Mercedes appeared in his mirrors. ‘Fuck no!’ Baptist yelled out of control. He pressed on the accelerator until it reached the floor of the car. It was then Smallmoney saw it. Trepidation overwhelmed him.

  The plush Mercedes took on a new appearance. It resembled one of those decrepit cars at a junkyard. The windscreen was gone and the man in black wore an ugly expression. The irony was that the Mercedes was moving at a much faster pace than before. Seconds later, there was another sound of metal smashing into metal as the man in black rammed the Mercedes into the Buick’s rear. The impact threw both men forward. The Buick fishtailed out of controlled. Baptist regained control. Smallmoney was turning around at the same time the man in black fired another bullet.

  The back window shattered. Smallmoney dodged forward faster than he'd turned around. The blare of siren was quickly approaching. The Buick connected with a speed bump and immediately went airborne. Baptist saw it coming and held on steadfast to the steering wheel. The man in black was caught off guard. He totally lost control and skidded off the road.

  The Mercedes was back on track as quickly as it went off. The crash put some distance between them but he knew the Mercedes was fast enough to catch up with him. The siren sounds were slowly creeping up on him too. He had to complete the mission before the cops catch up with him. He changed gears and the Mercedes bellowed into action. Baptist put good distance between himself and the man in black but the Mercedes was back on the road and moving at a neck-breaking speed. It was catching up to them faster than he expected.

  ‘Man…I want out of this blasted deal! This is your fucking problem; not mine!’ Baptist regretted showing up at Diamond-Ice earlier.

  It would have been a dream come true to get a chunk of the two million dollars but with such a psychopath in pursuit, the dream seemed out of Baptist’s reach.

  He imagined Cruiser with whether he or Smallmoney were ever going to make it out of the chase alive.

  The Buick was no match for the Mercedes.

  ‘I’m dropping your ass off the first opportunity I get!’ The seriousness in Baptist’s voice rang a stern warning to Smallmoney.

  ‘No! You can’t do that! He will kill me!’ the situation was taking a turn for the worst and Smallmoney was losing all bearings.

  Smallmoney’s friend sprawled in the Land a bullet wound to his head. He wondered ‘I’ll split half-half with you! A million dollars!!!’ the Mercedes appeared in the mirrors again. It was almost on the Buick’s bumper.

  The man in black rang out another shot. The bullet went through the Buick’s shattered glass. It grazed Baptist’s left ear and crushed the windscreen.

  ‘A million dollars to bury my fucking ass then you’ll stand at my fucking funeral to say what a good man I was? Huh?’ Baptist eyes widened.

  The burning sensation in his ear intensified. Droplets of blood trickled on his shirt’s collar.

  ‘Fuck that! The deal is off! Your ass is getting out of my car around the next bend.’ the Mercedes smashed hard into the Buick. A few seconds later it leveled with the Buick on the highway.

  Baptist tried to ram his car into the Mercedes but it was too late. The man in black had already fired another bullet. Baptist looked on with unreserved horror as the bullet connected with Smallmoney’s face. His body immediately went still. The ramming of the Mercedes did little to throw it off balance and in little time, it leveled with the Buick again. The man in black took another aim at Baptist. Their eyes locked. It was the first time Baptist saw his face. He could have sworn there was a strange familiarity about the man’s face. Another shot rang out but Baptist jammed the brake just in time causing the bullet to pass millimeters away from his face.

  ‘You motherfucker!’ Baptist accelerated then rammed the Mercedes again and was successful in rear-ending it. The battered black Mercedes swerved recklessly on the highway then spun out of control into a nearby pasture. A corner loomed up ahead.

  From the little distance Baptist gained, he could see the Mercedes pulling back onto the highway but something else was coming too.

  An entourage of police cars was radiated disco colour lights that stretch of road. The black Mercedes diverted and made good its escape on a dirt road that led into Bolans village. The quickly emerging. They decorated the darkened sound of siren had never sounded sweeter to Baptist. He had never liked cops but he all of a sudden began to have a change of heart. He swung the Buick around the bend then killed the engine abruptly. The cops were going to appear in any minute. Baptist was indeed kicking Smallmoney off his car but not in a way he predicted. He opened the passenger’s door and hurled the cadaver outside with brute force. The limp corpse bounced off solid pitch and fell into some nearby grass.

  Baptist managed one last glimpse at Smallmoney’s lifeless body before jolting the Buick into action. He took a camouflaged diversion that led to the other side of the village. The sirens of police cars blared in unison as they raced a
long Bolans highway.

  A 10×12 brown envelope that had mistakenly fallen off the dead man’s pocket caught Baptist’s attention as he made a quick escape into the dark dusty road.

  Nine ……………

  ‘I have no doubt in my mind that the island is vulnerable to

  earthquakes.’ Kaila’s voice reverberated in ABS’ studio. Marielli sat adjacent to her and curiously absorbed every moment of the radio interview. ‘ We contacted the Seismic Research Center (SRC) in Trinidad. They are expected to deploy a team of experts on the island to install instruments that will improve our understanding on the effects of strong earthquakes.’

  Earlier during the day, Kaila’s first instinct was to reject her daughter’s request to accompany her to the office. Marielli was always very fond of her dad’s presence.

  Allowing her to follow him to the restaurant would have been just another adventure for them both.

  She had sensed the disappointment in Marielli’s voice and hadn’t she accepted her request to escort her, guilt would have haunted her for the rest of the day.

  Kaila peered down at Marielli. Her innocent face glistened with awe. She exchanged glances from her mom to the radio announcer. A surge of contentedness filled Kaila. Marielli and Robert were the two main people revolving around her world and she had an inexplicable love for them both. Kaila cherished the opportunity of having her daughter experience firsthand some of the things she really did at work.

  ‘So, Miss Bronson; will these instruments be positioned in strategic areas around the island?’ the comical radio announcer continued to probe for answers.