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I-I d-don t w-want t-to d-die . . . John moaned. D-don t l-let h-him . . .
What the hell are you doing, Kelvin? What are you on, man?
Careful, I whispered, looks like he s mad fucking juiced. Stoned as shit.
I can see that, Sherm hissed back. Just watch your ass.
We were clustered together around John, and Kelvin sighted on each of us,
moving his pistol back and forth. I thought about pulling mine out, but if I
did, I d have to let up the pressure on John s wound. Already the blood had
soaked through the ski mask and it was quickly becoming a sticky mess in my
hands.
Check this shit out, Kelvin continued, as if we were having a friendly talk
in a bar. I was finishing a transaction and shit in the alley behind the
Chinese place. Two kilos and cash, a sweet fucking deal. Did me a little
celebrating right before I got here just enough to get me buzzed. Must have
done a little more than I thought, know what I m saying? And then the cherry
on top of the fucking ice cream. Finished up the deal, then I saw your boy
there, sitting in his car like he was waiting for something. Motherfucker
looked nervous and he should have. Told him what the fuck would happen if I
saw him on the streets. Little punk ass bitch got served. That s all.
For Christ s sake, Kelvin. Wallace told you to drop that shit. John didn t
mean anything by it.
Fuck Wallace! That nigga don t know everything. But you do, Sherm. You know
how it is. Business is
Sherm fired, rolled, and fired again. The first shot missed, but it was enough
to stun Kelvin. He staggered backward in stoned surprise, desperately looking
for cover. The second shot caught him right between the legs. Shrieking,
Kelvin squeezed off his entire magazine, emptying it into the sidewalk. The
bullets slammed into the pavement and ricocheted around us, gouging wood and
punching into brick. Blood poured from Kelvin s ruined groin as he slipped
into shock.
Still moving, Sherm leapt to his feet, ran toward him, and shot him in the
throat. Kelvin s fluttering hands went from his dick to his neck. A look of
surprise registered on his face as he collapsed, twitched, then lay still.
Sherm stood over him, placed the barrel against his forehead, and squeezed the
trigger one more time. I tore my eyes away at the last second.
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The customers were by then in a complete state of panic, screaming and crying
and praying and clawing at the carpet. But I ve got to give Sherm credit. He d
been right. Despite the gun battle going on in their midst, they listened to
what he d told them to do. They didn t run, didn t even get up. As planned,
we d come in hard-core, established who was in charge, and they obeyed.
Then, over their screams and the ringing in our ears, we heard another sound.
Sirens. Police sirens. Coming closer.
G-getting colder . . . John moaned. His eyes were shut. H-help m-me, Tommy.
I d-don t want t-to die and g-go . . . t-to hell. I m so s-s-scared, man . . .
P-please d-don t let m-m-me d-die!
Sherm looked out across the parking lot.
Shit! Get him up, Tommy. We got to bail. Let s go, man!
He picked up Kelvin s pistol, released the magazine, saw that it was empty,
and threw it down. The shattered remains of the door swung shut behind him,
with Kelvin s body wedged between it and the frame.
I rose, struggling to lift John to his feet. He groaned in agony, shuddered,
then passed out. I was thankful for that. His face had grown chalky, and his
entire midsection was soaked with blood.
Sherm, we ve got to get him to a hospital. He s fucking dying . . .
Fuck that. If he can t travel, then we ve got to leave him behind, man. We ve
got to jet.
Bullshit!
Not bullshit. You want to wait around and get caught, that s fine by me. I m
getting out. May be hard for you to hear, but that s the way it is, dog.
That s just the way it s got to be. He d agree with me if he was conscious.
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