Brink of Extinction | Book 1 | Sudden Impact

by Shupert, Derek

  Anna sighed, then adjusted the lose strands of hair away from her flushed face.

  The truck continued to slow. Smoke vented from the damaged hood. The lowrider jerked and sputtered, acting as though it was on its last leg.

  I turned onto Baltic Lane, then whipped down the first alley I found. The front end vibrated as the engine coughed its last breath.

  I pulled close to the buildings on the passenger side of the truck. The lowrider lunged forward, then dyed. I pumped the gas, then tried to turn the engine over. It grumbled, but wouldn’t start.

  “Looks like we’re back on foot,” I said.

  Anna’s arms folded across her chest as she glanced out of the windshield, then the back window. She didn’t seem too keen on walking the dangerous streets with the Young Bloods in the area. She nodded. “I’d rather not, but it would seem I don’t have a choice in the matter.”

  “There’s always a choice,” I shot back. “Hanging around here would only prove to be more dangerous than venturing on.”

  “How far away from Glenwood are we?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “Not sure, but I told you I’d get you to your friend’s place, so that’s what I’m going to do.”

  Anna hesitated for a moment, then nodded. She slung open her door, and stepped out of the lowrider.

  I grabbed the straps to the rucksack, then opened the driver’s side door. I swung my legs out of the cab to the cement. Pieces of glass fell from my lap as I stood up.

  My phone.

  I turned to the cab and looked at the seat. It wasn’t there. I dropped the rucksack to the ground, then bent a knee to search the floorboard.

  Anna flanked me. “What are you looking for?”

  “My damn phone,” I answered in a sharp tone. “I had it in my lap. Must have fallen to the floor somewhere.”

  It wasn’t on the driver or passenger side floorboard. I felt underneath the bench seat. My fingers glided over the matted fabric covering the floorboard. Pieces of busted glass stabbed the ends of my fingers, causing me to flinch and cuss under my breath.

  My hand brushed over the phone.

  Thank God.

  I pulled it off the dingy floor, and skimmed over it. The screen was speckled with dirt, but it didn’t appear to be damaged. It had some scratches and nicks on the casing, but otherwise, it appeared to be fine.

  I thumbed the power button for good measure.

  The black, reflective, glass screen changed to a bright white as the background of a beach with palm trees filled my eyes. Battery life was at thirty-seven percent. Cell signal was still a no go.

  “So, what’s the plan, here?” Anna asked, standing with her hands resting on her hips.

  I thumbed the power button, putting the phone into sleep mode. I stepped back from the cab, then slammed the door shut. “Same as it was before. Get you to Glenwood. To your friend’s place.”

  Anna placed the ridge of her hand above her brow, then peered in the direction we’d come from. She turned on the heels of her shoes, then looked the other way. “You wouldn’t happen to know how to hot-wire a car, would you?”

  I dug my hand inside the bag, and pulled out the Glock Tripp stowed there. I chambered a round, then secured the piece in my waistband. “Not really my wheelhouse. I’ve never hot-wired one before. I guess if I was forced to, I could figure it out.”

  “Perhaps we’ll get lucky and find a car in decent shape with the keys already in the ignition.” She attempted a sardonic smile as the wind whipped her hair about. Anna shook her head, moving the strands out from in front of her face.

  Her attempt at ill-fated humor brought a smirk to my face. “That would be like winning the lottery, wouldn’t it?”

  “I guess so. Unless you have any other gangbanger or similar type friends with cars, then I’d say that’s our best option,” Anna replied.

  Friends. That was a stretch. Most of the people I knew on the west coast were of the criminal sort. Bottom feeders who suckled on the underbelly of society.

  I did have one other contact in the city that I’d planned to visit after dropping Anna off.

  “Andrès Compos,” I said.

  “Who is that? Another colleague of yours?” Anna asked.

  “You could say that. He has an IOU for some work I did for him back in the day. If we stick to the alleys and off the main streets, I think we could reach him.”

  Anna dipped her chin, then cut her eyes up to me. “Do you trust him?”

  I glanced down the alley toward Baltic Ave, thinking of Tripp who still tried to screw me over even though we were considered friendly. “Trust is a fickle thing in my world. The only thing I trust about Andrès is that he’ll at least live up to the IOU, and the cash that’s in this bag will help as well.”

  Gunfire echoed on the air.

  Anna flinched, then searched for the source.

  I reached for the Glock, expecting to find another vehicle emerging from the street at any moment.

  I slung the rucksack over my shoulder, then snapped my fingers while backing down the alley in the opposite direction.

  “Come on. Let’s move.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  SCARFACE

  The gangbanger’s crib was a morgue–filled with dead bodies that sat in pools of blood and spent casings.

  Jackal scoped out the front while I checked the back of the house, making sure no threats sought to shoot us in our backs as we slipped away

  Silence loomed. No heavy footfalls charged the battered home with guns blazing or angered threats being yelled.

  “We clear?” I asked from the kitchen.

  “Looks that way,” Jackal replied. “Had a few cars pass by and slow down, but they moved on.”

  I worked my way back through the kitchen to the living room–stepping over the bodies on the tile floor.

  Jackal stood at the ready next to the entrance of the house. He glanced back to me, then nodded to the opening. “We good out back?”

  “Yeah. Didn’t spot any movement or find any survivors,” I answered. “Let’s roll.”

  Jackal took point with me flanking him. He exited the house with his Glock trained at the street. He swept the front yard for any targets hidden among the cars parked in the grass.

  The wave of men that arrived met a gruesome end. Their bodies were draped over the hoods of the sedans that were riddled with gunfire. Streaks of blood ran the length of the black sedan toward the grille. The other gang members laid among the dead, face first in the dirt.

  The Hummer had sustained damage from the firefight, but it didn’t seem too severe. The body of the hulking beast was speckled with bullet holes. Portions of the windshield were spiderwebbed.

  The back-passenger window caught a stray round that punched through the glass, leaving a hole the size of my finger.

  “We dodged a bullet in there,” Jackal said as he skirted the bumper of the Hummer. “No pun intended.” He scaled the side of the SUV and crawled into the driver’s seat.

  A gaunt, bald man was slumped over in the passenger seat. His knees rested on the chrome running boards that ran the length of the Hummer. His arms reached across the plush leather to the center console.

  The stark white shirt he wore was smirched with blood. Three perfectly placed rounds had pierced him in the middle of his back.

  “Nice placement,” I said, flitting my gaze up to Jackal. “Next time, you might want to watch out for our ride, though. I’d rather not have to walk through the projects with a turf war going on. Riding around in this Hummer is way better than puttering about in one of those crappy, small sedans.”

  Jackal sneered, then flipped me the bird.

  I smirked at the crude gesture. From time to time, we liked to jab one another. It was a way for us to remain sane.

  He rubbed the end of his finger under his eye, as if to deal with a dreadful itch. “I asked them politely to step away from the vehicle so I could shoot them, but they just didn’t listen. Perhaps they would have li
stened to you better.”

  I grabbed the back of the gangbanger’s bloody shirt, then jerked his limp body out of my way. “It’s possible they would have. I’ve been told that I’m friendlier than you.”

  The gangbanger crumpled to the ground, then flopped over to his side.

  “There you go, daydreaming again,” Jackal replied as he slammed his door shut. The dead thug’s Glock sat on the floorboard. His blood smeared the seats. “Want me to wipe that off for you?”

  I ignored the offer and retrieved the piece from the floor.

  The distant sound of sirens called out in the distance. I paused, then tilted my head to the side–listening to the subtle noise.

  Jackal stared at me with a peculiar look. “What is it? More trouble?”

  “When is it not trouble?” I answered in return. “Sirens caught my ear is all. We need to jet while we can before the authorities or more crew members show up.”

  I climbed inside the cab, then plopped down on the passenger seat, ignoring the blood that tainted the leather.

  Jackal turned the ignition over.

  The engine thrummed to life without missing a beat. He fed the beast gasoline, pressing the pedal toward the rubber floor mat. “Love that sound.”

  I closed my door, then secured the seat belt across my body. “Anytime, Hoke.”

  He scoffed at the remark, then put the Hummer into reverse. “Really? A Driving Miss Daisy reference? Doesn’t seem like a movie you’d watch.”

  “Just drive, will ya?” I replied.

  “Sure thing, boss.” Jackal put his arm across the back of my seat, and peered over his shoulder. He hit the gas, sending the five plus ton behemoth screeching backward.

  He worked the steering wheel from side to side, missing the car parked in the middle of the road by a scant inch. Jackal brought the Hummer to a stop, then shifted into drive.

  The large treaded tires rolled over the fissures that snaked throughout the road. Most were small, hairline fractures within the pavement, but a few were much larger.

  I checked the side-view mirror as we tore ass down the street. There weren’t any cars inbound, police or otherwise.

  Jackal pumped the brake, then spun the wheel clockwise. The Hummer drifted around the curb of the sidewalk, then straightened out as he punched the gas.

  Despite the shit we gave one another at times, we knew each other’s worth. Jackal was an excellent wheel man, among the other talents he possessed. There wasn’t another contractor I’d want at my side when the shit hit the fan. He had my back and I had his.

  “Gold Chain didn’t happen to say where in Glenwood Lawson and the girl were heading, did he?” Jackal asked.

  I shook my head while digging my hand into the front pocket of my trousers. “All he said was they were heading to Glenwood, then the airport.”

  Jackal shot me a bewildered gaze. “The airport? Lawson doesn’t have his ID. That and most of his other belongings were left back at the hotel. Besides, wouldn’t they have all flights grounded for the time being because of the tsunami and earthquake?”

  I fished out his little black book of contacts. “It’s possible, but I don’t know for sure. I doubt he’s looking to fly on a commercial airline. Too many eyes and security around. No. He’s looking to stay low and out of sight.

  “What are you thinking? A charter flight, then?” Jackal asked while speeding past a meager yellow Volkswagen bug that puttered along the street. The Hummer flew by, causing the tiny car to swerve and nearly crash. “Five K wouldn’t be enough to charter a flight unless he’s looking to rent a crop duster, and that wouldn’t do shit. Remember those private jets Mr. Coleman set us up with when flying to Europe on our last assignment? That must’ve set him back ten large, easy.”

  I cracked open Lawson’s black book and thumbed through the pages. “The 5K he has will help, but I don’t think it’ll get him a plane. Not with everything going on and with it being short notice. He’s going to need help procuring transportation, and I’d be willing to bet that he has that individual listed in here.”

  Jackal pumped the brake, bringing us to a dead stop in the street. He rapped the back of his hand against his bicep. “I think it’s safe to say Lawson and the girl didn’t come this way.”

  I glanced up from the scribbled pages to the windshield.

  The road ahead was blocked with police barriers. Beyond the bright-yellow flashing lights, large portions of the pavement were missing where the ground had separated.

  The buildings to either side had cavernous fissures that slithered up the fronts of the businesses, revealing bits and pieces of the interiors.

  “We need to find another way around,” I said, while peering into the side-view mirror. “We’ll have to backtrack, and take one of the other streets or even some of the alleyways if we can. Depending how the rest of the city looks, it could be a maze to get to Glenwood.”

  Jackal handled the shifter, placing the rig in reverse. He punched the gas, and sent the Hummer barreling backward down the street.

  “There,” I said, pointing to an alley we passed by. “It looks free of any debris or clutter.”

  “Copy that.” Jackal slowed the SUV, then shifted into drive. He torqued the steering wheel counterclockwise, and made for the corridor between the two buildings.

  I continued sifting through the names and other info that Lawson had written down in his book.

  It seemed as though he had pages sectioned off by states with contacts listed under each—a phone book of sorts for the criminal underworld. Everything from money references to possible favors owed were jotted down.

  We merged onto the street, skirting the rear bumper of a four-door truck that stuck out into the alley some.

  I looked back through the pages marked with LA in the corners, and scrutinized the names he’d jotted done.

  One piqued my interest. Gao Lin. Two words were written at the bottom of his info. My brow raised in curiosity.

  Big favor.

  “You got us a lead?” Jackal asked.

  “Perhaps. Gao Lin.” My forehead wrinkled as the tip of my finger tapped the cream-colored pages of the black book. “Why does that name sound so familiar?”

  Jackal shrugged. “No clue. I know there’s a Wu Ching gang that operates in this area. He could be tied to them. We’ve done some jobs for the Chinese, but I can’t remember their names. One was Shen Wu or Mao Guo or something like that. All I remember is that they paid well and without any hiccups.”

  “Well, this Gao Lin looks like a possible lead. Lawson has Big Favor marked under his name. I’d say that might be a good place to start if we can’t track Lawson down in Glenwood. Getting a charter flight at the last minute during a natural disaster is going to need someone with deep pockets. Depending on the favor, this could be our best bet.”

  Jackal turned down Rosemount Ave. “Hopefully, we’ll snag him and the girl he’s with in Glenwood. I’m curious about her. That whole thing just smells funny to me.”

  “Agreed. There’s something going on there.” I looked in Jackal’s direction. We passed an alley, and I caught a glimpse of a red truck. “Whoa, whoa. Stop.”

  Jackal slammed the brakes, bringing the Hummer to a screeching halt. “What is it?”

  “Go back to the alley we just drove past. I think I saw something.” I craned my neck, trying to peer around the corner of the building as Jackal backed up to the entrance of the alleyway.

  “Is that the truck we’re after?” he asked, pointing at the cherry-red vehicle.

  “Could be. Let’s get a closer look,” I answered.

  Jackal spun the steering wheel and hit the gas. The Hummer swung into the passageway and drove toward the abandoned truck.

  We crept along at a modest speed as I leaned forward in my seat. I squinted at the damaged vehicle as we came to a stop.

  “Christ,” Jackal said under a muttered breath. “If that’s it, they went through some shit.”

  The front end of the cherr
y-red lowrider was smashed. The windshield was spiderwebbed in different places. A large crack resided in the grille.

  I tossed open my door, and hopped down to the cement.

  Jackal killed the engine and followed suit.

  The Glock hung at my side as I moved around the front of the Hummer. I brought the pistol to bear as I skimmed over the truck.

  Jackal flanked me off to the side with his Glock fixed at the lowrider. He made a wide arch toward the driver’s side.

  I skimmed over the front end, then ran my fingers over the holes that littered the painted steel. I placed my hand on the hood, feeling the temperature of the vehicle. It was tepid.

  “I got nothing in the cab,” Jackal said while leaning against the opened driver’s side door. “There’s a shit ton of busted glass from the missing window. That’s about it. No traces of blood or spent shell casings inside or around the ground.”

  “So, they managed to lose whoever was after them, and park the truck here before it died. Then, they hoofed it on foot?” I asked.

  Jackal looked to the cement, scanning over the surface, before responding. “That’s plausible. I don’t see any tire marks or other indicators of a second vehicle. Given the rounds the truck took, I’d say that if trouble came this way, we’d find more evidence than what we have.”

  A loud thumping sound filled the air. It was subtle at first, but grew as the seconds ticked by. The familiar beat made me grip the Glock a hair tighter and tense up.

  I trained my ear to the noise, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. I stepped away from the truck, and glanced toward the street at the opposite end of the alley.

  Jackal looked at me, then turned away from the door. He moved his head from side to side, trying to lay eyes on what had gotten my attention. His fingers repositioned over the grip of his piece as he stepped around the door.

  “Damn gangbangers” he said under his breath. “I’m kind of ready to get out of the projects. You think it’s the Young Bloods or Gold Chain’s crew?”

  “Doesn’t really matter. One isn’t any better than the other.” I backed toward the Hummer. “Could be the Young Bloods searching for the lowrider since they have a beef with Gold Chain. Either way, that’s our cue to leave.”