The Good Son

by K'wan

  “Nah, I don’t feel you, but I ain’t here to pass judgment. We gonna do this or not?” Tech asked impatiently.

  “Yeah, we gonna do this,” Jake sneered, opening one of the mailboxes.

  Tech wasn’t sure why, but he looked to Wayne, who had conveniently edged back. It was then that he spotted something in his eyes - nervous anticipation. Tech reached for his gun, but the cold press of steel behind his ear made him pause.

  “Not so fast, blood.” Tech recognized the voice as the kid who greeted him outside. He cursed as a hand reached around and relieved him of the pistol in his waist.

  “What the fuck is this?” Tech asked Jake, who retrieved a pistol from the mailbox and was now aiming it at him.

  “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Jake ripped the front of Tech’s shirt and checked him for a wire.

  “Wayne, I came in good faith to spend some money and this is how your people gonna do me?” Tech tried to keep up his lie, but knew it was futile.

  “Nigga, that’s about as weak a lie as my name being Jake. Jake is what we shout when the police on deck, so I knew you were full of shit the minute Wayne called me by that,” Not Jake informed him. “The way I figure it, you’re either police or a Jack-Boy. Either way you ain’t leaving this building… at least not on your feet.”

  “That’s your word?” he asked, locking eyes with Not Jake. He talked the talk, never walked the walk. Not Jake wasn’t a killer; at least not yet, and Tech had no intentions on his final resting place being a random lobby in Newark, at the hands of amateurs. He was outnumbered and disarmed, but hardly defenseless. “A soldier’s death it is then.”

  The kid standing with his gun to the back of Tech’s head never even saw his elbow coming until it was smashing into his nose, breaking it. His gun went off, sending a bullet bouncing off the mailbox and hitting Wayne in the throat. It wasn’t quite how Tech had planned on killing Wayne, but he’d take his victories where he could get them. Seeing the prey now becoming the predator caused Not Jake to hesitate for a fraction of a second, and that was all the time Tech needed to make him regret it. Moving with the grace of a ballerina, he spat a razor from his mouth into his hand and brought it down across Not Jake’s stunned face. He howled like a wounded dog, temporarily blinded by the pain that had exploded in his face. His vision cleared just in time to see Tech fleeing through the rear exit.

  *

  Tech had no idea where he was going, but it didn’t matter. He needed to get as far away from the dogs on his heels as quickly as possible. In his pitiful need to appease Swann, he abandoned his normal protocols and walked into a situation blindly. It was a mistake that was threatening to cost him his life.

  When he spilled from the exit into the rear courtyard, Tech found that he had gone from the frying pan and into the fire. He was surrounded by an agitated group of young men, obviously put on alert by the sounds of gunfire coming from the lobby. They took one look at the panicked stranger and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he had been the cause.

  “Grab that nigga!” Not Jake came bursting through the door. His hand was across his face where Tech had cut him. From the blood spilling between his fingers, you could tell it was a deep one.

  A burly older dude managed to grab a fist full of Tech’s hoodie, and yanked him close. He smelled like a mixture of cigarettes and beer. Tech tried to bring the razor into play, but the man knocked it away. Tech struggled to break free of his grip, but the man was as strong as a bear. When he tried to get a better grip on Tech, he slipped out of the hoodie completely and took off.

  The Newark thugs hurled profanities and bullets at Tech’s back as he zigzagged across the courtyard trying desperately not to get his head blown off. A few yards away, he could see the car parked across the street. Tech hit the black gate separating the courtyard from the street like the Amazing Spiderman and crashed into the grass on the other side. Coming from down the street, he could see the kids who had been in front of the building, all armed and out for his blood. When Tech got across the street to the car, he finally realized why Jewels hadn’t already jumped out and laid down cover fire - he wasn’t in the car. Tech didn’t need to see his enemies closing around him to know that his run was literally over.

  Spots danced before his eyes when something heavy slammed into the back of his head. He went down to one knee, clutching his head. He wasn’t bleeding, but was growing a respectable knot. He looked up and saw at least a half dozen angry eyes staring down at him. Leading the mob was Not Jake. In the light, Tech could see the scar he’d gifted him. The gash across his nose was so deep it was a wonder how it was still attached to his face.

  “Bitch ass nigga!” Not Jake kicked him in the stomach hard enough to knock the wind out of him. “You dead for what you did to my face.”

  The next thing Tech knew, he was swallowed by the mob. They rained kicks and punches on every part of his exposed body. He reasoned the only thing that saved him from Not Jake just shooting him and getting it over with was because there were too many of them dog-piling on Tech for him to get a clear shot. The world swam and his ears began ringing from the repeated blows to the head, and he was pretty sure he was about to black out when something warm and wet splashed on the ground just below him. At first he thought it was his own blood, until he looked up and saw Not Jake’s body jerk. Not Jake twitched twice more as bullets slammed into his body. Coming out of the shadows, like an avenging black angel, was none other than Jewels!

  “Get some! Get some!” Jewels snarled, busting the machine gun. The thugs scattered like roaches, but not before having half their numbers wiped out. When it was done, several dead bodies were scattered on the ground along with a rattled Tech. “I knew this shit was a good investment,” he said, kissing the machine gun.

  “Where the fuck were you? I said stay with the car!” Tech barked, pulling himself to his feet.

  “Relax, nigga. I had to take a leak. I been holding it since we left Harlem,” Jewels told him. “Yo, if we hurry, we can catch the ones who ran off!” He eagerly slapped a fresh clip in. “Me and you, baby. Let’s take these niggas to war!”

  Tech looked from the direction the boys had fled in toward Not Jake’s corpse. “Nah, them niggas can breathe…at least for now. We’ve spent enough time here, and we still got one more stop to make.” He slid behind the wheel of the car.

  “One more stop? Dude is dead, so what the fuck else could we possibly have to do in New Jersey?”

  *

  “But mama, why do we to go to Florida? I like it here.” Eight-year-old Alex was sitting on the edge of the bed, pouting.

  “Because I said so!” Jane snapped, tossing a few things into a small suitcase. When she saw that she scared her son by yelling at him, she stopped and went to him. “Look, mama is sorry for being short with you. I’m just a little stressed. We’ll only be in Florida for a couple of weeks. Don’t you wanna see your little cousins?”

  “No,” Alex said flatly.

  “I’ll tell you what. If you go and get your underwear and things together like a good little boy, I’ll take you to McDonald’s to get a Happy Meal before we go to the airport.”

  “Can I get an ice cream too?” Alex asked hopefully.

  “Two ice creams,” Jane promised. That was all little Alex needed to hear to send him scurrying off to do as his mother instructed. With her son finally out of the way, Jane was able to go back to what she was doing, which was getting the hell out of dodge. Jane finished packing her suitcase and went into her closet to grab her shoulder bag from its hiding place, behind several boxes of shoes. She peeked inside and did a quick count of the bills. After what she had spent on their plane tickets — and the money she wired through Western Union to her sister in advance to agree to let her stay — she still had seventy-five hundred dollars left. It wasn’t exactly a retirement fund, but it would be enough to hold them over until she could find work and get back on her feet.

  Jane paused when she saw a pair o
f headlights shine against her bedroom window. She crept over cautiously and peered out to see a taxi turning into her driveway. “About damn time,” she mumbled. “Alex, let’s go! Our taxi is here!” she called to her son, making her way down the stairs with her bags. She was moving so fast that she twisted her ankle and almost fell. Jane’s nerves were shot and she wouldn’t relax until she and her son were safely out of New Jersey.

  Jane stopped short of the front door to leave an envelope on the table for her mother to find when she came in from work. Inside it was one thousand dollars and a note letting her know that she and Alex were okay. She felt bad about dashing off that way without at least an explanation, but she figured the less she told her mother, the safer she would be. When she got settled she would tell her everything, but at that moment, her top priority was getting herself and Alex out of town.

  “Hurry up, Alex!” Jane yelled again. “Slow ass boy,” she grumbled. If he wasn’t downstairs by the time she loaded the bags into the taxi, she was going to drag him down. When she opened the door, she found a man standing on the other side, and from the looks of him, he wasn’t a taxi driver. Her last thoughts were what would become of her son?

  *

  Jewels watched Tech as he walked back to the taxi, every so often glancing around to make sure no one was watching. He opened the door and tossed a shoulder bag into the back seat, before getting back behind the wheel.

  “What the fuck is that?” Jewels nodded to the bag.

  “Tying up a loose end for Swann,” Tech told him, before throwing the car in gear and peeling off.

  Tech spent the majority of the ride out of Newark in silence, lost in his own thoughts. Every so often he would see Jewels look over at him. He obviously wanted an explanation about their stop at the house and the bag, but Tech honestly didn’t have one for him, except that Swann wanted it done.

  Tech didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he knew he’d fucked up. They had a rule in the Dog Pound - no women and no children. He had broken that rule in his quest to appease Swann. He’d never felt the need to gain the approval of another since he was kind of following Jah around and begging him to let him put in work.

  “As long as you stay true to what you believe in, fuck what anyone else says or thinks. Once you stop being your own man, you might as well hang it up,” he could hear Jah’s voice ringing in his head. His former mentor was probably rolling over in his grave right about then. It was too late to give back the life he’d stolen, but he knew one day the deed would come back on him. Until then, there wasn’t much Tech could do but ride it out.

  His eyes drifted to Jewels, who seemed content now that he had gotten to spill a little blood. When they’d set out on their little mission, he was unsure if Jewels would rise to the occasion, but Jewels had proven himself more than capable and willing. Despite his big mouth and inability to take anything seriously, he stood tall when his number was called and there was no doubt in Tech’s mind that he would do so again. He would make a welcomed addition to the Dog Pound. Now all he had to do was convince Animal of this, but first he would have to find him.

  CHAPTER 19

  Animal stepped from the shadows of the subway station and took in a healthy chest full of the evening air. It stank of old fish, trash and exhaust fumes, but it beat the smell of death and mildew that seemed to cling to everything inside The Below, which is where he spent most of the day, checking on the children to make sure they had enough supplies to last them for a few weeks and that there was money in their stash. He made sure they were properly equipped before undertaking a dangerous task. In his line of work, you never knew which day at the office might be your last, and he dreaded the thought of leaving them underprepared in the event that he didn’t return.

  When the one they called “Duffy” ventured into The Below with the offer from Tommy Clark, he was tempted to send his response in the way of cutting out Duffy’s tongue and mailing it back to the Clark Estate. That was until Duffy explained the situation in detail. Animal didn’t particularly care for any of the Clarks, with the exception of their late father, but he cared for child molesters even less, and that was whom they paid him to hunt. Tommy had promised Animal ten grand for his services, which was hardly chump change. But for the honor of killing a pedophile, he’d have done it for free.

  For reasons only known to a few, Animal fashioned himself a champion of the broken, those too weak to protect themselves. This was especially true when it came to children, and was why he had become the surrogate guardian for the wayward kids who dwelled in The Below. Much like him, they were abandoned by society and left to fend for themselves. For the most part they were good kids; a bit rough around the edges, but not yet corrupted by the evil. In the children of The Below, he saw what he once was, and did what he could do to protect him from what he was becoming.

  Animal came from a less than favorable upbringing with a junkie for a mother, a father he didn’t know and a step-dad who showed him what true evil was for the first time. Eddie was his name. He was a musician and a closet junkie who Animal’s mother had foolishly trusted to be their salvation, but all Eddie did was drag them further into hell. When Eddie wasn’t out trying to score drugs, one of his favorite past times was kicking the shit out of everyone in the house who wasn’t strong enough to fight him back. When Animal’s older brother was around, things weren’t so bad because he was able to protect him. Animal still caught the occasional beating, but there was only so far Eddie would go because he knew Justice would kill him. He was a gangster and Eddie was afraid of Justice, but whenever he would go away to jail or be gone in the streets for weeks at a time, Eddie would make up for lost time. Animal suffered through everything from busted lips to broken bones. The physical abuse he could take, but it was the psychological trauma that left him permanently scarred. One of Eddie’s favorite methods of torturing Animal was to lock him in a dog cage for days at a time without food or water. He would even sometimes bring his junkie friends by to witness the spectacle. Sometimes Animal’s mother would try and intervene, but most days she was too high to care or notice that her son was being abused. Many nights, Animal would lay on the floor of the cage, soiled in his own urine and feces, praying for death to come and do something to finally end his suffering. It would be years before death finally came, not as his salvation, but as his guide on the path he now walked.

  Animal had finally escaped his abusive home and was now living on the streets. He survived mostly by stealing or at the mercies of others, but it was a hard life, especially for someone as young as him. He tried his hands at drug dealing, which ended up leading to the death of his first true love, a girl named Noki. There was also a period of time when he was taken under the wing of a man called Gladiator, who would teach him the art of murder. Halfway through his education, Gladiator was killed by the police. Not long after, he’d gotten the word that his mother was dying. In addition to giving her a drug habit, Eddie had also given his mother HIV. Everywhere he went, death was present, taking away pieces of his life. It wasn’t until Animal hit rock bottom that it finally gave him something in return. This is how he met Tech.

  Animal had been out hunting two knuckleheads who were giving him grief on the streets and found them in the process of attempting to rob and kill the young dealer. He and Tech didn’t know each other at the time, but their mutual enemies made them allies in the coming battle. In the end, four of them had entered the alley, but only two had come out. In return for saving Tech’s life, he took the homeless teen in and given him a warm and safe place to stay. Over time their friendship grew, and Tech would become more of a brother to him than Justice. Though it had been Gladiator who taught Animal how to kill, it was Tech who taught him how to survive.

  Next to Justice, Tech was the closest thing to a brother that Animal had. He had pulled him out of the streets and given him a home and a purpose, which is why Animal felt so guilty about the way he had been treating him lately. When he saw him walking into his ap
artment building earlier that day, Animal wanted to call out to him, but he decided against it. He wanted to embrace his friend and tell him what was going on inside him, but he wasn’t quite ready, nor was he sure he could articulate it in a way that would make Tech understand.

  Animal and Tech were kindred spirits, yet they were as different as day and night when it came to processing right and wrong deeds. Tech was content to assassinate anyone if the price was right, but not Animal. Death was a gift he bestowed on only those he felt were deserving. This was a rule he tried to live by, but sometimes there were unfortunate casualties, and such was the case with Hannah. He and Tech had come for her grandson, a degenerate piece of shit who had run afoul of the Clarks and was sentenced to die. They stalked him to his home, where a firefight had broken out. Animal had been gunning for the target, but the old woman had gotten in the way. She survived the injuries, but not without a cost. Her life had been spared, but she would spend the rest of her days living in darkness from the bullet that had taken her sight. Animal had done quite a bit of dirt in his young life, but never felt remorse about any of it until Hannah, and he was having trouble processing it. To Tech, what happened to the old woman was a little more than collateral damage, but to Animal, the accident snatched away what little was left of his innocence. The boy that he once was had died, and now all that remained was the monster he was becoming. This is why men like Tommy Clark called on him to do what others lacked the stomach for.

  With this thought in mind, Animal pulled his hood tightly over his head and slipped inside the apartment building to deliver his gift.

  *

  Nicholas Bucco, also known as Nicky the Gent, made it into Manhattan from Belleville, New Jersey in record time. His day ran far longer than expected. He’d set out that morning to make his normal Friday collections of protection money from the various businesses that kicked up to the Meloni family, of which he and his crew were a part of. For the most part, things went smoothly, with everyone paying up. It wasn’t until the last stop on his route that things took a turn.