Origins- the Road to Power

by Ricky Black

  Origins: The Road To Power

  A Target Prequel

  Ricky Black

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  Contents

  Beginning

  1. Chapter One

  2. Chapter Two

  3. Chapter Three

  4. Chapter Four

  5. Chapter Five

  6. Chapter Six

  7. Chapter Seven

  8. Chapter Eight

  9. Chapter Nine

  Teflon

  1. Chapter Ten

  2. Chapter Eleven

  3. Chapter Twelve

  4. Chapter Thirteen

  5. Chapter Fourteen

  6. Chapter Fifteen

  7. Chapter Sixteen

  8. Chapter Seventeen

  9. Chapter Eighteen

  10. Chapter Nineteen

  11. Chapter Twenty

  12. Chapter Twenty One

  13. Chapter Twenty Two

  14. Chapter Twenty Three

  15. Chapter Twenty Four

  16. Chapter Twenty Five

  17. Chapter Twenty Six

  18. Epilogue

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  About the Author

  Beginning

  Chapter One

  Monday 10 March 1997

  He just needed a few more seconds

  He was close, his arm stretching out. The stacks of twenty and fifty-pound notes were in front of him. He grinned as he grabbed the money.

  ‘Lamont!’

  Lamont Jones jerked awake, vaulting from the bed. Stretching and wiping his eyes, he quickly trundled downstairs. Carmen Jones sat at the table, a middle-aged black woman with long black hair and great bone structure, just barely hanging onto the looks that had once enticed many men.

  ‘Good morning, Auntie.’

  Carmen ignored her nephew, looking over him with a critical eye. Lamont was gangly, with similar cheekbones to his Aunt, and messily curly hair. A jagged scar at the bottom of his chin slightly marred his features. He was long-limbed with a quizzical nature and dark, rosewood eyes that showed a vulnerability that intrigued those around him. Auntie was immune to it.

  ‘Get back upstairs and wash your face. You look disgusting,’ she said coolly.

  Lamont hurried to obey, heading back downstairs afterward. Auntie had lit a cigarette, the disgusting smoke wafting around the kitchen. Lamont was just getting over a chest infection and the smoke tickled his lungs. If Auntie noticed, it didn’t show.

  ‘Get started on breakfast. Your sister will be up soon and I don’t want her to be late.’

  Lamont busied himself turning on the hob, then went to the fridge for eggs and bacon. Auntie watched, still talking.

  ‘Comb your hair too. You’re a mess. What is wrong with you? Are you slow?’

  The usual anger simmering within, Lamont ignored Auntie. She did this daily and rising to it would only make things worse. Instead, he skilfully prepared and served breakfast, made her a cup of tea, and then went to wake his sister. Marika Jones was snoring softly, the quilt pulled over her head.

  ‘Rika . . .’ Lamont gently rocked her. ‘Rika, you need to wake up.’

  ‘Mhmm,’ Marika stirred, looked at Lamont and then closed her eyes again. Mumbling, Lamont yanked away the quilt.

  ‘Oi, what are you doing?’

  ‘You’ve got school today.’

  ‘I’m tired. I wanna go back to sleep.’

  ‘Don’t make me get Auntie.’ Lamont would never utilise this threat, but it sometimes paid dividends.

  ‘I don’t care. Get her. I’ll tell her I’m ill.’ Marika pulled the quilt back over herself.

  ‘Fine.’ Lamont left to take a shower. Auntie normally timed him, so he made sure he was out within minutes to avoid her complaints about him using all the hot water. Like everything else in the house, the shower was top of the line but Auntie still found fault. Dressing for school in a worn pair of jeans and a baggy shirt, Lamont threw on a pair of cheap trainers with damaged soles. Marika was drinking a glass of milk in the kitchen, beaming when he re-entered the room.

  ‘Hurry, Rika. Are you going to school by yourself, or with Danielle?’ Danielle was a friend of Marika’s. Her mum had a car and she would often drive Marika to school. Lamont had wanted Marika at his high school so he could keep an eye on her, but Auntie hadn’t cared, choosing to send Marika somewhere else.

  ‘Marika isn’t going to school today. She doesn’t feel well,’ said Auntie.

  ‘She’s lying though, Auntie.’ Lamont glared at his sister, whose smile widened.

  ‘You don’t dictate to me. My niece said she is ill, so she isn’t going to school. It’s as simple as that.’ Auntie lit another cigarette. This time though, she unlocked the back door and stood outside.

  ‘How often do you think you’re gonna get away with this?’ Lamont hissed at his sister. Giggling, she continued sipping her milk and completely dismissed him. Marika seemed to take several days off school a week. Whereas Lamont attended school every day even when he was ill, Marika took liberties.

  There was nothing Lamont could do about it though. He had no say in the household. Lamont saw school as his way out and because of that, he soaked up everything taught to him.

  Putting a jacket on and grabbing his school bag, Lamont left the house without saying goodbye. Once outside, he embraced the air of Chapeltown, or the Hood as it was affectionately known. A diverse, multicultural suburb in Leeds, Chapeltown had a reputation for violence. Lamont saw beyond that though. There was beauty in the Hood, a certain energy that sometimes made the hairs on Lamont’s arms stand on end. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt it.

  Lamont headed towards the main road, his steps halting slightly when he saw the group of boys skulking on the corner. They smirked when they saw him.

  ‘Look who it is; Trampy Lamont,’ one of them called out. He was a lanky kid named Tower. Tower came from a big family and had a lot of brothers. He was always throwing his weight about and targeting Lamont. They’d fought before, but Tower’s friends always jumped in when it looked like he would lose.

  Lamont sighed. There was no way to avoid them. If he tried to run, they would either chase him or spread the word that he was a coward. He froze as the group approached.

  ‘Where’d you get them trainers from? Africa?’ Tower stood in front of Lamont. His friends guffawed as if Tower had told the funniest joke in the world.

  ‘Nah, even the Africans wouldn’t wear them,’ Another boy piped up.

  ‘Look how his toes are nearly poking through! And look at them trousers,’ Tower continued. Lamont stood, hands in his pockets, taking the insults. Tower was trying to bait him and Lamont would not rise to it. Seeing that his strategy wasn’t working, Tower tried another tactic.

  ‘Gimme all the money you’ve got. Now.’

  Lamont had nothing to spare. He had change for the bus but he had left early with the express purpose of walking to school.

  ‘I don’t have anything, Tower.’

  ‘Why do you talk like that?’

  ‘I don’t talk like anything.’

  ‘Yeah, you do. You talk like a white man, all prim and proper. You’re from the Hood. Act like it,’ Tower snarled. ‘Gimme your money. If I don’t get a pound in sixty seconds, we’re gonna rush you.’

  Sighing, Lamont removed his school bag and jacket. Putting them on the floor, he faced T
ower and the others.

  ‘Have you seen this guy? Why are you taking your coat off like you’re looking to rumble? You wanna go?’ Tower taunted. Lamont tensed, waiting for them to make the first move. Before Tower could do anything, another voice spoke up.

  ‘I’ll go with you.’

  Tower and his cronies froze, recognising the harsh voice. Tower swore quietly as Marcus strolled towards them. Marcus Daniels was sixteen years old, but he was over six feet tall, with the build and the attitude to prove it. Unlike Lamont, Marcus wore a plain black t-shirt, jeans and black trainers without a speck of dust or dirt on them. He glared at Tower and his gang, eyeing each of them. None could meet his gaze.

  ‘Yo, safe, Marcus.’ Tower’s tone softened.

  ‘Don’t safe me. Why are you lot surrounding my brother like you’re gonna take him on?’ Marcus asked in his slow voice. Marcus was soft-spoken. It was his eyes that constantly gave away his true intent. They were full of malice and rage against the world. Anyone who knew him, knew Marcus was the real deal.

  ‘Nah, we were just playing with him. Lamont’s cool,’ Tower back-pedalled. His boys slowly backed away.

  ‘L, are they troubling you?’ Marcus addressed Lamont now. Lamont needed only a second to reply.

  ‘Nah. Like Tower said, we were just messing.’

  Tower shot Lamont a look but didn’t his Lamont’s statement.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yeah, man. I’m sure.’

  ‘You lot, go away. Trouble my bro, you’ll have me to deal with,’ Marcus promised. The boys hurried up the road.

  ‘You should have let me stomp them out,’ Marcus said.

  ‘There’s no point. It’ll just make it worse next time.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. Sometimes you need to take the licks. People will never respect you if you don’t stand up for yourself.’

  Lamont knew Marcus meant well, but he resented being spoken down to by anyone. It was easy for Marcus to preach about standing up for himself. He was built like a monster. Lamont was on his own most of the time and he had no one to back him up.

  ‘Whatever, man. Have you been out all night?’ Lamont changed the subject.

  Marcus grinned. ‘Had some business, then I stayed with Mia.’

  Lamont laughed. Mia was Marcus’s girlfriend, for lack of a better term. Having moved out of her house as quickly as humanly possible, Mia now lived with her older sister. Marcus was always around and if the rumours were true, had also slept with Mia’s sister.

  ‘What kind of business?’

  ‘Don’t worry your head about it, schoolboy,’ Marcus reached into his jeans pocket and peeled off five, ten-pound notes. ‘Keep hold of that. Don’t let the witch see it.’

  ‘I won’t.’ The first time Marcus had given him money, Lamont foolishly left it on his bedside table. The next day he awoke to the lash of the belt striking his legs and Auntie screaming that he was a thief. Ever since, he had become more practised.

  ‘I’m gonna head home. Why don’t you skip school and come with me?’

  Lamont shook his head. ‘I’m not missing school. I’ll get with you later if you’re about.’

  ‘Let me know if Tower and his people trouble you again.’

  ‘I will,’ Lamont lied. Tower was an annoyance but the last thing Lamont needed was people thinking he needed Marcus to fight his battles for him.

  For the past few years, Marcus had lived with Lamont, his Auntie, and Marika. The son of a pair of hardcore drug abusers, his father was murdered trying to rob a drug crew, and his mother died of an overdose when he was six. Marcus had been in his fair share of foster homes. Moving in with Lamont had calmed him down, but the demon still lived below the surface.

  Once Marcus turned to walk home, Lamont quickened his pace. If he didn’t hurry, he would have to get the bus. Folding the money that Marcus had given him, Lamont put it in his sock and was on his way.

  Lamont was hurrying out of the school gates that afternoon when he heard someone call his name. Tower strode toward him with his gang following.

  ‘Oi, don’t think you’re rough because you’ve got Psycho Marcus backing you. My brother will end him if he steps out of line, understood?’ Tower pushed out his chest.

  ‘I do,’ Lamont said listlessly.

  ‘You better. I want some money tomorrow. Don’t try avoiding me either, because I’ll come to your yard and smack up you and your sister, you get me?’

  ‘Don’t talk about my sister,’ Lamont’s tone had changed. He sounded colder. Tower and his people picked up on it.

  ‘Or what? What are you gonna do?’ Tower challenged him. Lamont glared, his eyes burning with anger. The sight of Lamont’s stare made Tower feel uneasy.

  ‘Don’t forget what I said. Come, you guys. Let’s go.’ Tower’s team hurried away. Lamont watched them go, taking a deep breath.

  ‘Are you walking home, L?’

  Lamont hid the smile that appeared on his face as Erica Anderson sashayed into view, two of her friends flanking her. Erica was tall, with skin the colour of dark honey. Lamont had liked her for the longest time, but painfully knew that he was in the friend zone. Erica had an older boyfriend, but she often talked with Lamont and sometimes they would walk home together.

  ‘Hey, Erica. Yeah, I am. Are you?’ he said eagerly.

  ‘Yeah. These two are getting the bus, but I’m meeting Leon at the park. Do you mind if I walk with you?’

  ‘No, course not.’ Lamont again tried hiding his smile, wondering how desperate he had sounded. Erica’s friends giggled, shaking their heads.

  ‘Let’s go then. See you two later,’ Erica said to her friends. Walking with Lamont, the two of them crossed the road, walking down the long path that led to the park.

  ‘Did you do Mr Silver’s homework?’ Erica asked as they walked.

  ‘Did it on Sunday. It was hard though. Did you?’

  ‘Yeah, did it at Leon’s house. When he let me anyway. I swear, all he does is try to feel me up!’

  ‘Bet that’s annoying,’ Lamont said, jealous of Leon being able to put his hands on Erica.

  ‘It’s sweet. He’s not a talker, so I guess it’s his way of telling me what I mean to him.’ Erica giggled, running a hand through her hair.

  ‘Yeah, there’s always that.’

  ‘What were Tower and his boys talking to you about? You looked mad.’

  ‘Nothing. Just Tower being Tower.’ Lamont didn’t want to think about him.

  ‘Okay. Just be careful. You know what he’s like.’

  ‘I’m always careful,’ said Lamont, smiling. Erica grinned back.

  ‘What are you doing this evening?’

  Lamont shrugged. ‘Should be good. I’ll either get the chance to do all the washing, or if I’m lucky, Auntie will let me do the ironing or cooking.’

  ‘She treats you worse than a slave.’

  Lamont had confided in Erica occasionally about Auntie’s treatment. Once he had even shown her the welts on his back from the belt. He didn’t know why; all Lamont knew was that he trusted Erica and enjoyed talking to her. Marcus was his best friend, but he wasn’t the easiest guy to converse with. Erica showed Lamont the affection and sympathy that he needed. That was enough.

  ‘I’ll be out of there soon,’ Lamont said with conviction.

  ‘What would you do though? How would you live?’ Erica looked thoughtful.

  ‘I’ll get a part-time job and start college. I can’t stay under that roof forever.’

  Erica nodded. Lamont had mentioned his desire to leave home before. They walked along after that, talking about school life and playground dramas.

  ‘Lavinia likes you. Do you like her?’ Erica was referring to a girl in their year at school.

  ‘She’s all right. Not my type though.’

  ‘Really? So what’s your type then?’ Erica pressed.

  You, Lamont wanted to say. He didn’t.

  ‘I don’t have a proper type. I just know that Lavinia�
��s not for me. She’s cool to talk to, but I don’t have feelings for her.’

  Erica smiled. ‘Give her a chance. I bet she’d let you sleep with her.’

  ‘I’m not interested in that,’ Lamont lied. He was sixteen. It was all he thought about.

  ‘Really? You’re not? Have you done it before?’ Erica asked him.

  ‘Yeah. Loads of times,’ Lamont’s voice took on a boastful tone. He was lying though. He had virtually no experience with the opposite sex. He had kissed a few girls, but absolutely nothing had materialised from it. Between his mismatched clothing and being prey for every bully going, Lamont wasn’t top of the social spectrum. Life had dealt him nothing. He was smart, but it was getting him nowhere. Lamont hoped college would change things for him, but struggled to see how it could.

  ‘Really? Who with?’ Erica sounded interested now.

  ‘No one you know,’ Lamont furtively replied.

  ‘You’re no fun. Did you enjoy it? I always do.’

  Lamont’s stomach lurched at Erica’s words. He knew Erica had slept with Leon, but he didn’t want to hear about it.

  ‘It was okay. Nothing special.’ Lamont hated himself for lying, wishing he could tell Erica the truth; that she was the only girl he wanted to sleep with, mainly because of the kindness she had shown him. He couldn’t though. Lamont had committed himself to the lie, and now he would have to see it through to the end.

  ‘You must not be doing it right. Talk to Leon. He’s great at it. I suppose it’s because he’s older.’

  ‘Yeah, must be,’ Lamont grumbled. The park was coming into sight now.