Jackal brought the rig under submission and reduced his speed. A shortened breath escaped his lips as he continued on. “Listen. All I’m saying is that I think some female companionship would do you some good. I know you’ve never really gotten over your daughter’s death. That’s why you have that fixation with strawberry bubble gum. It’s a coping mechanism. I just think you’re missing out, man.”
I cut my eyes over to him. He met my gaze.
“All right. I’ll drop it for now, but I think you need to consider it,” Jackal said.
I had no reply to offer. There wasn’t anything additional that needed to be said. I fumbled with the system for a bit longer before giving up. “Looks like everything is toast. Communications of any sort is null. We’re cut off.”
Jackal kept his eyes fixed to the road. “Guess that earthquake messed things up pretty good. Is that even possible; disrupting all communications like that? I’ve never been in an earthquake before, so I have no idea.”
I shrugged. His guess was as good as mine. “No clue. It could be temporary. They might be working on trying to get everything restored.”
Jackal nodded but didn’t respond. I thought he could tell that the subject of my daughter had struck a sensitive nerve. There weren’t too many things in the world that got under my skin like that.
I wished he hadn’t brought up my sweet angel. My Stacey. God, I missed her.
The idle banter between us subsided. Jackal concentrated on traversing the congested streets as we made our way into the slums.
The painful reminder of Stacey’s death was now fixed in my head instead of the job at hand. My hand dug into the pocket of my trousers, searching for the gum wrapper she had given to me.
It was the last thing that I received from her before she was ripped away from me. I didn’t have to pull it out to feel it’s meaning. There were four simple words that she had scribbled on the back of the wrapper. It was like a thousand fists hammering my chest.
I love you, Daddy.
Thanks for the painful reminder.
The slums of LA were notorious for being a cesspool of violence. Rival gangs sought to chip away at territory that wasn’t theirs. Hostile takeovers involved blood and bullets instead of a pen and paper.
Jackal clenched the steering wheel a hair tighter. “Man. And I thought the slums couldn’t look any worse. I guess when the cat’s away the mice will play, huh?”
I chewed my lip, then bowed my head. I was trying to repress the thoughts of Stacey, and focus on the job—Lawson and our payday. “Yeah. Something like that.”
The scenery of the neighborhood was bleak and foreboding. Fires raged from the abandoned cars that littered the city streets. Local businesses were closed and void of any residents.
The earthquake had ravaged homes and toppled brick buildings. Mounds of rubble covered the sidewalks and spilt out onto the streets.
Riding around in this rig was a two-edged sword. We were mobile and somewhat protected from any threats, but it was also like riding around in a giant bullseye that would draw too much attention.
“Keep your eyes peeled. The last thing we need is to get popped by some gangbanger looking to make a name for himself,” I said.
“I’m on it.” Jackal retrieved his Glock from the dash, and placed it in his lap. He glanced to the backseat of the Hummer. “Might want to grab some of that hardware back there in case we need it.”
He was right. From the way things looked, and the lower income area we were in, it wasn’t going to stay quiet too long.
I reached back and grabbed the straps of the duffle bag. I pulled it over into the middle of the truck, and sifted through the mounds of weapons inside.
“Pick your poison,” I said.
“Grab me another Glock. I’ll take an AR as well.” There was no hesitation on his part. He knew what he wanted.
I pulled the weapons out and checked their status. Each magazine was filled and ready to rock. I handed them over to Jackal who smiled with delight.
He shoved both Glocks in his waistband, and positioned the AR on the floorboard between his leg and the center console. His hand rested on the barrel of the rifle while the other remained fixed to the steering wheel.
I grabbed another Glock for myself. It was more of backup to my dagger.
The Glock’s magazine ejected from the grip when Jackal slammed the brakes. The Hummer came to an abrupt halt and threw me forward. My hand braced against the dash.
“What the—”
That’s when I noticed the two gangbangers standing in the middle of the street with AK’s trained in our direction.
Jackal let the rig idle as we kept a close eye on the two thugs. His hand squeezed the barrel of the AR tighter. “They look like a couple of teenagers.”
I slapped the magazine into place and chambered a round. “From the looks of it, they’ll kill us just the same. If we can’t reason with them, then we’ll do what is needed to stay on mission.”
It was hard to gauge their age. A black and red striped bandana covered the lower half of their faces. The bills of their hats were fixed low on their heads, revealing nothing more than narrowed stares that gleamed at us. It was only their rail-thin frames that hinted at their possible age.
Two warning shots were fired in the air. One of the hoodlums stepped forward. He slammed his fist on the hood of the Hummer, and motioned for us to get out.
I reached for the door handle. The strawberry gum had lost its flavor, but I kept chewing. “You ready?”
Jackal shot me a glance, then said, “Time to punch that clock and handle business.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CORY
It was a shooting gallery, and we were the targets.
The AK barked its harsh report. Fire spat from the barrel. We were on the move as the incoming rounds pelted the sedan. Windows shattered and rained glass to the concrete. Shards of the busted window crunched under our bulk as we moved to the front of the vehicle.
“Christ,” Anna said while covering her head.
We kept low and out of sight. I leaned against the bumper of the car and exhaled a sigh of tension. My heart pounded. I looked to Anna, making sure she wasn’t hit.
“Are you okay? You weren’t hit, were you?” I asked.
Her head was tilted toward the pavement. She glanced up. “I’m good. What are we going to do?”
That was a good question.
I glanced across the street to the houses that lined the sidewalk. Open yards with no cover met my gaze.
Great.
I nudged her arm and pointed at a driveway. “We’re going to need to make a run for it.”
Anna’s eyes opened wide. A look of shock washed over her sweaty face. “He’ll cut us down before we even get halfway across the street.”
I stood up, and peered through the bullet-riddled windshield. The Young Blood was walking down the sidewalk as he continued to spray the area. “He should have to reload soon with the way he’s wasting that ammo.”
Anna didn’t seem so sure.
The hammering of the AK stopped. I checked on the thug, and found him fiddling with the weapon. He slapped the side of the magazine, then pulled. It was either jammed or he was inexperienced at using the firearm.
“Come on. He’s out,” I said.
We stood and dashed across the street. Our feet pounded the pavement like our lives depended on it. I glanced over my shoulder and watched him eject the magazine. A fresh one was pulled from his boxers that were visible above his pants.
“Move faster,” I said in a raised voice.
He slapped the magazine in and cycled a round. With both hands cradling the rifle, he set his sights on us and opened fire.
We kept low and darted up the driveway. A van was parked near the house. It offered us some protection from the swarm of incoming rounds.
More glass shattered and carpeted the drive. The buzzing of the bullets whizzing past us filled my ears. The van shielded us.
A wooden privacy fence spanned the back portion of the property. The boards were rotted and showed their age. Some hung loose with missing gaps between the slats.
A light-brown pit bull was shackled by the neck and chained to a stake in the middle of the yard. He barked and growled as he lunged for us. The thick, rusted chain snapped taut, and held him at bay.
I sidestepped the aggressive dog as it continued to lean forward. He paced back and forth while keeping us in his sights.
The gunfire had ebbed, but I doubted our pursuer had given up.
I made for a section of the fence that was missing the most slats. The other boards near it looked ragged and rotted through.
I kicked and pulled at the decaying lumber. It crumbled. Only large, rusted, nails remained.
I glanced back to the driveway in search of the thug, and waved my arm in a circle at Anna. “Go.”
She turned to the side and slipped through the opening. I followed close behind as the gun wielding gangbanger materialized from the side of the van.
He opened fire once more. The bullets tore through the wood, and zipped past us, missing their mark.
We darted across the open yard in a dead sprint. There was a small passage to the side of the house that looked to be just wide enough for us to fit through.
I took the lead and went first. Thick, green vines coated the chain link fence. The rich smell of the vegetation was palpable. The ends of the leaves brushed over my flesh.
I hit the corner of the house and kept running.
Anna stayed close behind and matched me step for step. “Do you think that guy is still after us?”
She hunched over with the heels of her palms pressed into the soft area above her knee, panting. Anna was winded, and so was I.
“No clue, but we need to keep moving,” I answered, gasping for air.
I was running out of steam. Every muscle fiber ached with each step I took. My head swelled with a dull, thumping pain that grew unchallenged.
The street was absent of any thugs that I could see. No gunshots loomed behind us. For now, we had given our pursuer the slip.
We hit the sidewalk, and raced down the weed-infested walkway. In the distance, I spotted a black sedan driving toward us. It was traveling at a snail’s pace in the middle of the street. Boisterous rap music blared from the open windows.
Shit.
I searched for a place that we could lay low until they passed. Up ahead was a house that appeared to be abandoned. The windows were boarded up and the front yard was overgrown with tall, brown weeds.
“Come on,” I said, while motioning to the house.
We darted up the empty drive, and made our way behind the derelict home. I moved Anna to the other side of me as I stood near the edge of the dwelling. I deflated against the rotting siding and exhaled.
A sharp pain stabbed at my side. The palm of my hand pressed to my aching ribs. I grimaced. My body wasn’t going to hold out for much longer. Not without some meds to numb the pain.
The thumping of the music grew louder. Each dense bass drop hammered my skull. I rolled to my side, and peered around the corner to the street.
Anna flanked me. She lingered off to my side and craned her neck. “Well?”
“They haven’t passed by yet.” I glanced back and noticed her head was sticking too far out in the open. I tugged on her arm, moving her back a few steps. “Don’t want them to spot you.”
The sedan came into view and stopped in front of the driveway. The tinted windows were lowered halfway, offering nothing more than a pair of eyes that looked in our direction.
The obnoxious music continued to pound harder and louder. They didn’t disembark the ratty sedan, but just sat idle in the street.
Did they spot us? What are they doing?
I moved away from the corner of the ramshackle house, ready to move.
Seconds felt like hours standing there. I looked past the backyard and through the chain link fence, plotting our next move in case we had to make a break for it.
Anna was hunched over. The heels of her palms rested on the tops of her knees. She sucked in copious amounts of air. “You still thinking this is a good idea?”
“No, but it’s the only move I had to make.” I peered back down the drive. The sedan pulled away, and continued on down the street. The music ebbed, and it was silent once more.
Christ, that was close.
I breathed a sigh of relief. My hand rubbed up and down my tired face. That was two close calls. “Okay, I think we’re–”
Click.
I stopped mid-turn and froze.
Anna gasped, then raised her arms in the air.
“And what do we have here?” an agitated man asked.
I turned my head in the direction of the disgruntled voice. Standing near the house was an armed man, dark as night with cornrow hair. He had a bag slung over his shoulder and an Uzi trained on us. The automatic weapon trembled in his hand.
I didn’t go for the Uzi for fear he might shoot Anna or myself. Instead, I raised my hands in the air, and turned to face him.
Anna’s face flushed with fright. She cowered at the sight of the weapon. Her arms shook, and she whimpered under her breath.
“Listen, friend, we don’t want any trouble. We’re just passing through,” I said, calm and collected.
He ran his tongue over his gold teeth. He took a step forward and doubled down on us. “You here to jack me, fool? Is that it? If so, I’m telling you right now that shit isn’t going to happen.”
I didn’t want to elevate the situation. Not while he had that Uzi pointed at Anna. “We’re not wanting to rob you or anything like that. We’re just trying to get to a friend of mine. That is all.”
“And what friend is that?” Cornrow asked, keeping the Uzi locked on us.
“His name is Tripp,” I answered. “We’ve done business with each other. I need to speak with him about an important matter.”
“Are you going to kill us?” Anna asked.
His free hand grabbed at the top of his pants and pulled them up. His eyes swelled with indecision.
The crackling of gunfire grabbed his ear. He looked past us and listened, searching for the source.
He lowered the Uzi and backed away. Turning toward the backyard, he nodded. “Follow me.”
He took off with the bag over his shoulder. Anna offered me an unsure gaze. I shrugged.
We ran across the yard after him. Anna didn’t seem too keen on following him from the way she stared at him and her body language, but she kept moving just the same.
He tossed the green duffle bag over the fence, then scaled it with ease. He hit the ground and scooped it up by the straps. Anna followed suit, then I. I was a bit slower going over the fence, but managed to do so.
I hit the ground and grunted. My hand pressed against my side. It hurt, but I dealt with the pain and moved on.
Cornrow led us down a narrow passage that zigged and zagged between garages and sheds on either side of us. Weeds grew unchallenged next to the structures. It was a maze he navigated with ease.
I glanced over my shoulder in search of any threats. The side of my arm nicked the dingy, faded white boards and the weeds on the other side of me. No hit men or LA’s worst of the worst flanked us that I could see.
We hit a small opening and emerged in a yard. Cornrow cut to the right and slid down the side of a garage we were next to. He approached the edge, and peered out into the alleyway.
Anna stopped behind him with me bringing up the rear. I looked to the house for any hostiles who may have been lurking within. There was no visible movement.
“All right. Let’s go.” Cornrow sprinted across the alleyway with us in tow. The sound of tires squealing made us m
ove faster. He pushed his way through a blockade of bushes. Anna lowered her head and charged through the dense vegetation.
The ends of the branches brushed against my wounded arms. It hurt like hell, but I kept moving. I stumbled out from the bushes and dropped to my knees.
An engine revved and headed down the alley. I flipped over to my backside, and peered at the dense foliage that concealed our presence. Anna kneeled next to me. She grabbed my arm, and pulled me off the ground.
Cornrow drew his Uzi, and trained it at the overgrown wall of shrubs. He backpedaled, and ran across the expansive yard. We chased after him as the car raced by.
He ran for the cream-colored house. The white-back door flew open. A stocky-black man appeared with a pistol in hand. He waved Cornrow on, but shot us an odd look. He blocked the entrance after Cornrow slipped inside. His thick, tree trunk like arms crossed each other.
“He’s got business with Tripp,” Cornrow said from the interior of the dwelling.
The raging bull huffed, then stepped to the side. Although hesitant, Anna went inside with me following close behind. The door slammed shut with a dense thud.
I flinched, then peered at the raging bull. His wide frame was blocking the way out. His lips were pursed as he looked down at me. His finger rested on the trigger of a gun.
Seated at a round table, in the corner of the kitchen, was a group of four large men armed with Uzis and Glocks. The firearms were scattered across the scared table. They looked at us with an emotionless gaze while their hands reached for any piece of hardware that was close by.
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
Anna drew closer to me and shuddered.
“In here,” Cornrow said, in a shout from the living room.
The armed men and Raging Bull stayed put as we walked to the other room. I kept an eye on them as we entered the darkened space.
Small beads of light bled through the dirty off-white blinds. It brightened up the cramped living space that was cluttered with old furniture. The air smelt of pot and body order. My nose crinkled from the foul stench.
Heavy footsteps trudged up the dim hall from across the room. A haze of thick smoke clung to the air. The silhouette of a man stood in the shadows. His face was shrouded by the murk. A joint was clenched between his lips. It burned a fiery-orange hue as he took a drag. Smoke escaped from the sides of his lips.
Brink of Extinction | Book 1 | Sudden Impact Page 7
