by U. E. Wynn
Out the corner of his eye Koran spotted a black guy running towards him with a 40 caliber trained at his head just as he made it to the sidewalk boarding the parking lot. Luckily he tripped over a dead pit bull before the bullets reached its mark. Instinctively, he dropped to the ground and rolled to his right. A second later bullets chipped the concrete beside him and stung the side of his face. He rolled to his back, held his gun out preparing to fire when a hail of bullets stitched his assailants chest and face and sent him curling backwards. Stunned, Koran glanced over his shoulder to see Derrick running up at full speed. An excited grin was on his face as he pushed himself up from the ground, but then froze horror struck when Derrick's head exploded.
“Nooooo!” he roared, whipping his head around and screwing up his face at the two Puerto Ricans who ran toward him shooting. At that moment death meant nothing to Koran. Rage had taken over his thinking process and he only had one thought in his mind... Kill!”
“C’mon muthafucka’s!” he screamed, running straight at them.
God or some other supernatural force had to be with him. He stood further than twenty feet away, exchanging shots with both men. In the midst of action he heard Jahad scream his name, but he was too far gone to respond. The man on his left fell first as bullets ripped the top half of his head off and sent blood and brain’s flying through the air.
Hearing his gun click, Koran dropped the Heckler and Koch and reached for his Beretta. At that same moment Jahad shot the other Puerto Rican in the stomach dropping him to his knees. Still in his zone Koran walked up to the man while he clutched his stomach and shot him twice in the head. Before the body could fall, two more men ran from the left side of the building, their guns blazing. To their surprise, Koran ran to meet them and was cloSing the distance until Jahad tackled him to the ground.
“What the fucks wrong with you nigga!” Jahad barked pulling Koran away.
“C’mon, let’s kill these muthafucka’s!” Koran yelled out in fury.
Jahad jerked his arm so hard he nearly pulled it out of place. “Bring your stupid ass on before I fuck you up. We can’t do shit for Dee now. We’re outnumbered ten to fucking one. What, you wanna die here too?”
Koran nodded, accepting Jahad’s logic. He glanced over at Derrick’s lifeless body just as three men rushed from the left side of the building. From the right about twenty yards away, two more men came running, guns in hand. Moving with the speed of a cheetah Jahad grabbed Korans’ hand and sprinted off, ducking and weaving while bullets whistled dangerously close by their ears.
A taunting thought filled Koran’s head and echoed repeatedly when they made it to the first side street. Why am I running? I don’t run. I kill…I kill…I kill. Without a moments hesitation, he snatched away from Jahad, spun around, dropped to one knee. He lifted his gun and lazered in on each target all in one fluid motion.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Three precise shots slammed through the first three purser's head in rapid sessions. Zooming in on the other two, he was in the process of squeezing the trigger when Jahad snatched him around by his shoulder.
“If you don’t bring your ass on I’ma knock you out right fucking now!”
“I got them. They right…”
Before Koran could finish the sentence Jahad swung a hard blind right hook that connected flush with his chin and put him to sleep instantly. Just as his knee’s buckled Jahad slung him over his shoulder and took off again. As he drew closer to the car, exhausted from the extra weight, Sha’ opened the back door.
“He hit?” Sha’ asked as Jahad tossed Koran into the back seat.
“Nah, I knocked his ass out,” Jahad answered hopping into the passenger seat. “C’mon, let’s get the fuck outta here before the Jakes show up.”
“Where’s Derrick?”
A shimmer of grief flashed in Jahad’s eyes. “He ain’t coming. Now c’mon, pull the fuck off.” In the backseat Koran grunted but stayed down.
“What you mean he ain’t coming?” Sha’ asked once he pulled out into traffic.
“He’s dead Sha’ and right now I really don’t wanna talk about it. We’ll build later a’ight?” Jahad turned to the window indicating the subject closed.
Ten minutes later, they passed numerous police cars heading towards Bronxdale. Sha’ pulled in front of Jahad’s building. Jahad helped Koran, who was still slightly dazed, from the car. Sha’ left to dispose of the guns and the stolen car.
“What you swing on me for?” Koran asked as Jahad opened the door to their building. Jahad didn’t bother to answer. Didn’t even bother to acknowledge Koran until they stepped inside the apartment.
“Don’t ever do no stupid shit like that again!” he roared slamming Koran into the wall. “Who the fuck you think you are, super fucking man?! Bullets don’t bounce off your black ass!”
“I ain’t trying to hear that shit!” Koran shoved Jahad back and put up his guard. What you swing on me for man!”
“To save your stupid ass life. And if you don’t calm the fuck down I’ma knock your ass out again. Now try me.”
This was the second time today Jahad tried to chump me, Koran thought. He took a deep breath, then released a flurry of wicked combination’s: left jab, right cross, left cross, overhand right, left hook, right hook, left hook, straight left, right jab, left hook, right cross.
In front of him Jahad weaved and ducked with mechanical movement from each blow until a right hook slammed into his jaw and knocked him into the wall.
“A’ight, let’s get busy then.” He gave Koran a crooked grin and started bouncing on his toes, his attention focused on Koran’s shoulders. “You think you can beat my ass, huh? I taught you nigga, so you should know I can put you to sleep at will.”
Koran kept his eyes on Jahad’s face as they squared off. Koran was in a firm stance, his eyes slit. Jahad was bouncing lightly on his toes, his grin wide, both waiting for an opening.
“You won’t be mad at me if I break your jaw will you?” Jahad taunted. “Yeah, I’m gonna put some steel in your mouth. Or do you want me to break your nose so your shit will be crooked like mine?”
Koran ignored him knowing that Jahad was trying to piss him off, in the process cloud his thinking. The first thing old man Jimmy taught him when he started his boxing lessons was to never take a fight personal. It was a sport that required thinking, like a chess match. A physical chess match.
“You think your shorty would like that?” Jahad continued to taunt him while slipping into a 52 hand block. “If I crack that jaw, she won’t be able to kiss you then. But don’t worry. I’ll kiss her for you.”
The mention of Serenity set Koran off. He snapped three rapid left jabs, a left hook, followed by a right cross. Jahad weaved the blows with ease, then dropped to his knee and drilled a powerful right into Koran’s solar plexus.
“Oof!” Koran exhaled loudly doubling over, his breath gone.
“When you get your shit together come to the living room ‘cause I ain’t finished chewing your ass out.” Jahad smiled as he walked off.
A few minutes later Koran stepped into the living room still holding his stomach. Jahad sat on the couch, a shot of Patron in hand, a blunt hanging from his mouth, staring at the wall. He took a deep pull from the blunt, coughed, then looked up at Koran slowly.
“What in the hell got into you out there man?” he asked quietly.
Koran glanced at him before answering. “They bodied Dee, Jah. What the fuck was I suppose to do?”
Jahad sprung to his feet. “Think, dammit! Fucking think! That’s what you were suppose to do! Them niggas could have bodied your ass and you the only damn brother I got.” His voice was thick with emotions as he yelled angrily. Then suddenly he burst out laughing as he wrapped Koran in a fierce hug. “Crazy ass dude. I almost shit on myself when you pulled that Rambo shit. You gotta always think, Koran. Always.”
Koran nodded. “I feel you, Jah, I feel you. I mean, I wasn’t trying to do no heroic shit, but w
hen I saw Dee go down something inside me snapped. All I could think about was killing those niggas. What we gonna do about Dee?”
Jahad released Koran, his face masked with sorrow. Derrick and Jahad had been friends Since grade school. Closer than friends, so his pain went far deeper than Koran’s although he wouldn’t express it out in the open. Later tonight when no one was around tears would stain his cheeks.
“I’ll see his moms after the police get at her so she’ll know she won’t have to sweat funeral expenses. As far as his kids, they’ll be straight for life. That’s about all I know to do besides bodying the muthafucka’s responsible.”
After taking showers and changing clothes they sat in the living room reminiscing over Derrick while playing video games. At exactly one o’clock the Heads, along with their top lieutenants, showed up escorted by Sha’. Once everybody was seated Jahad explained what had happened, down to the last detail, except for what was discussed prior to going to Bronxdale. All eyes were focused on Koran when he finished.
“What y’all looking at me for?” he asked looking around. “Shit, I spazzed out when Dee got lit. Ain’t like I was trying to be a fireman.”
“What in the hell y’all go out there for anyway?” Star directed the question to Jahad. “We could of planned it out first and came up with a better way.”
“Yeah, you probably right, but we didn’t, so it’s not no need to talk about what if.”
“No need!” Star raised his voice. “What you do falls back on all of us, so there is a need to talk about what if.”
The tension in the room grew thick as Jahad and Star glared at each other hostilely.
“Star made a good point, Jah,” Prince said breaking the silence. “You need to get at us before you make a wild ass move. What’s done is done though, so instead of beefin’ lets move forward.”
“No doubt,” Jahad nodded. “And pardon me if I offended anyone,” he said, looking around wondering which one was the snake.
“Now that we’ve kissed and made up, I got some information to put y’all up on.” Lord stood up grinning. “I put some Watchers on this Lenny Leopardi dude and he’s like thirty strong from what we can tell so far. We don’t know who though.”
“I’ll get at Valentino tomorrow and see what’s up. He should be able to break down who’s who, but it ain’t necessary. If we kill the head the body dies.”
Sha’ shook his head. “With these Italian niggas there's always someone to step up and fill a position just like with us. I say we kill all them muthafucka’s.”
Everybody nodded and Jahad shrugged his shoulders. “So be it.”
“What up with Corsello’s?” Star asked. “Valentino still ain’t told you nothing?”
“Nah, not yet. I’ll see what’s up tomorrow. About that situation with Hector, I’m bout to go on his ass hard…no homo. It’s obvious he’s been getting money in Bronxdale right under my nose. How that happened I don’t know.” Jahad made eye contact with each M.G. before continuing. “Today we bodied about twenty of his people so most likely he’ll crawl his stinking ass in a hole somewhere until he regroups. Whenever he pops back on the scene, it’ll be his last!”
“Word!” Koran nodded.
“Word my ass,” Jahad smirked, his eyes boring into Koran. “I want you outta New York after Dee’s funeral.”
“C’mon, Jah!” Koran stood outraged. “I’m going, but it’s gone be a few weeks. I wanna be here when we get at Hector…for Dee.”
“No nigga, you going after the funeral like I said. That shit you pulled today was the last straw. You bout to take a long vacation.”
“I don’t need no vacation. I’m good.”
Jahad shook his head. “Nah, I see it in your eyes Koran. You like killing too damn much. At first I thought you were trying to get your rep up, but you took that shit to another level today. As long as there was somebody else to kill you ain’t give a fuck if you lived or died. You frontin’ like killing don’t effect you, but what you did today was one of the effects. You stopped thinking.”
“I’m saying…”
“He’s right Koran,” Sha’ cut in. “You’ll fuck around and get bodied with that gun ho shit you on.”
All types of emotions coursed through Koran, mostly anger. How in the hell do they figure I’m doing too much, he thought. Nobody said shit when I was doing the hits. I make one mistake, now I’m killing too much.
“So what y’all trying to say is I’m out the picture.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that.”
“Nobody said you were out,” Star answered. You need to chill for a while, that's all. It’s for your own good.”
“My own good!” Koran looked at each head as anger bubbled over. “A yo word up, y’all on some real live bullshit. Fuck y’all!” he yelled, then walked out wanting to punch something or someone.
Jahad’s face came to mind, but he rubbed his stomach and thought against it. In his room, he rolled a blunt of Purple Haze then lay back across the bed and Stared up at the ceiling as the blunt started to ease his tension. Closing his eyes the scene flashed through his mind when Derrick got hit and he realized that Jahad was right.
At that moment it didn’t matter if he lived or died. Jahad was also right about his desire to kill, although it wasn’t because he liked it. Killing was his job. So what if he became a little excited. The thought sent chills up his spine as reality struck him in the face. He did like killing, regardless of the effect it had on his conscience. It gave him a buzz. It made him higher than the potent weed he now smoked.
“What the fuck have I become?” he asked himself out loud, feeling a deep sense of shame.
The truth hurts and the truth was he no longer held any regrets for human life. Much worst, he was no longer Koran Copeland, the bright kind hearted young man his mother raised. His short time being an M.G. had turned him into a monster. A monster posing in a human body. All at once depression engulfed him filling his head with suicidal thoughts. He wondered how long he could continue living the life he led while yearning for a simpler life if possible. The M.G.’s were a permanent fixture in his life and there was no turning back. Then he thought of Serenity, Jamel, and Dej’a and nearly burst into tears.
“You a’ight now or you wanna fight again?” Jahad asked entering the room.
Jarred from his thoughts Koran snapped his head up. “Nah, I’m good. I mean, you right. I need a break.” He paused and looked up at Jahad through misery filled eyes. “I’m…I’m... This shit is fucking with me, Jah.”
“You don’t have to tell me, I know. I told you when you first came to me about becoming a M.G. how this shit was. The killing becomes addictive. That rush is better than busting a nut. Am I right?”
Stunned Koran nodded. Jahad knew exactly how it felt. “Word up, Jah. That shit is crazy! Knowing I’m bout to stop a muthafucka from breathing and that I have that power, makes my dick hard. Afterwards, I feel like shit though. But I can’t help wanting to kill again. I mean, lil’ Kay slowed me down some, but the urge is still there.”
Jahad sat on the bed beside Koran and reached for the blunt. He took a few pulls, coughed, then spoke in a knowing voice. “Let me explain something to you lil’ bruh. It ain’t the killing you addicted to, it’s the power. That’s where the rush comes from. As far as you feeling like shit, that’s natural. It proves you’re still human. No normal nigga can keep killing over and over without it fucking with them. Shit, unless you a serial killa and them muthafucka’s are crazy,” Jahad smiled. “That’s the whole reason for the system we got up with the Body Squad. So niggas won’t have to keep killing over and over. You’ll be a’ight though. The time you spend down south will help you get your shit together.”
“I really don’t have a choice but to go, do I?”
“Oh, you have a choice. You can go down there, cool-out and enjoy yourself or stay here and have me beat your ass. Choose one,” Jahad replied with a crooked grin.
Chapter Fourteen
Jahad left a few minutes after their talk and Koran decided to troop it to Kana’s Friend Chicken once the munchies get the best of him. On his way to the elevator, he bumped into Emma coming out her apartment dressed like she was on her way to church.
“Hey baby! Come give me some sugar,” she smiled, showing all her dentures.
Koran kissed her on her wrinkled cheek. “I’m headed to the chicken spot, you want something?”
“No. No thank you. Where’s that bad butt Jamel? I haven’t seen him all week.”
“He’s out with my Shorty. You sure you don’t want nothing?”
“No baby, I’m on my way to Pastor’s house. He invited me to dinner this afternoon.”
“If I had my truck I would give you a lift. You got money for a cab right?”
Emma nodded. “I already called a cab.”
Koran looped his arm around hers. “Well, let’s roll out then.”
Exiting the building Emma’s cab waited parked beside the curb. Koran walked her to the cab promising to bring Jamel to see her tomorrow, then strutted off up Story Avenue towards Kana’s Fried Chicken. He glanced over at the park as he walked and memories from his childhood flashed through his mind. Jahad wasn’t around much back then so Tony, Derrick, and the rest of Jahad’s friends filled the role of big brothers often chasing him home when he was up to some mischief. The thought made him smile, then he thought of Derrick’s death. The smile evaporated.
Instantly he was filled with an untamable rage while in the back of his mind a voice whispered seductively, Go back to Bronxdale and kill them all! Kill them all Koran! You know you want to and you can do it all by yourself. Kill them all! Kill them all! Kill them all!
Repeatedly the voice taunted him until he couldn’t fight it anymore. Tensed as a coiled spring, his teeth clenched, he started back toward his building to get his guns as if in a trance.