Shyt List 5: Smokin' Crazies The Finale' (The Cartel Publications Presents)

by Reign (T. Styles)

  “You sound crazy!” Ming said. “Ming was trained by the Mah Jong Dynasty! The best!”

  “Naw…you probably would’ve turned the gun on me instead.” Swoopes interrupted talking to Bricks. “You don’t trust me, and I don’t trust you. And we never will.” He paused, taking the moment to reload his hammer. “Plus it’s my bird. If you wanted to protect yourself you should’ve had your own.” He laughed as if he was considering a few more things. “If niggas were trying to kill my bitch, best believe I would’ve taken the necessary precautions. You slippin’.”

  Hearing the insult, Bricks saw blue. “Fuck you mean!?” He stepped closer to him and they both forgot about Mike being on the couch. “I ain’t take care of my shawty?”

  “You gotta answer that question for yourself, B, now don’t you?”

  They were just about to go to blows, again when Yvonna walked back into the room. “I’m sick of ya’ll with this shit.” Bricks and Swoopes stepped back from one another, but the hateful stares remained. Slowly she walked up to Mike who was trying to stop the blood from pouring out of his body by a hand press. “What is Yao’s plan?” When he frowned instead of answering her question, she raised her weapon and said, “The next one going in your head. If he didn’t find me here, where was he going next?”

  Mike looked up at her and said, “I don’t know what his plan is. I do know he got his eyes on some niggas named Uzi and Laser.” He tried to adjust himself because the bullet wound was excruciating. “They were in a meeting we were in the other day. That’s all I know.”

  “Uzi and Laser?” She repeated. Swoopes was already hip on who they were also. “Treyana’s sons? What would he want with them?”

  “Don’t know who the fuck Treyana is.” He threw his head back because he was in so much pain. “All I know about is a Uzi and Laser. And I also know I wanna get out of here before I die from losing all this blood. Can I please leave?”

  “We can’t even talk about you getting out of here, unless you answer my question.”

  “Like I said, I don’t know shit else!” he barked. “Just what I told you already.”

  “Well I guess you no good to me then are you?” She raised the weapon and punished him with a bullet to the forehead. The blast spit blood in her face and she smeared it off with the back of her hand, leaving blood tracks over her face. She was done with all of the games. If they wanted to get Roman-Like, by making everything bloody and gory, so would she. When life escaped Mike’s body, she turned to face her crew. They all wore looks of disbelief because of the way she handled his death. “I thought you sold us out.” She said to Swoopes. “Thank you for proving me wrong.”

  He grinned, looked at her and then at Bricks, “I wouldn’t do that. Not with all this beef with AFCOG anyway.”

  “So what you gonna do after that?”

  “Come on now, you and me both know we got a war to attend when this shit is all over.” Swoopes countered. “I guess I’ll see you there.”

  “You can count on it!”

  “We gotta leave.” Yvonna interrupted.

  “You telling me something I already know.” Bricks said, looking at the corpse on the couch. “Wait…where is Elika and Tata?”

  Yvonna looked in the dining room and saw them dead, with their baby. Rook and Mike were so trifling; that they even killed an infant. As Yvonna looked at the bodies she said, “I’m so over all this.” She looked at Bricks, and he tried to hold her but she shook him off. “I’m not asking for sympathy.” She looked at the bodies again. “Just stating facts. All they wanted was my help. And now, because of me, they dead.”

  “You can still save more, young Yvonna.” Swoopes said.

  “And how’s that?”

  “Free the kids who caught up in the shit. Now it ain’t about just smokin’ crazies, we got a reason to fight back.”

  “When you took a nap earlier, Squeeze, we spoke to them alone.” Bricks touched her softly on the back. “Let’s go to the kitchen so I can run it down to you.”

  Ming, Swoopes and Bricks sat at a table with the box Ebony had earlier. Yvonna stood over Bricks to see what he was about to show her. “Elika told me how AFCOG works in a little more detail, when we looked over the things together in this box.” Bricks took a deep breath and pulled out a chart. “The leader to this entire organization is Rufus Day, who you already know about. Directly under him are the Four Captains of Pain.”

  “What are the Four Captains of Pain?”

  “They pimps. They all are. But they call themselves that because if the people under them don’t follow the rules, they do what they have to, to set ‘em straight. Whether it be violence or some other sick form of punishment.” Swoopes contributed.”

  “Anyway, the Four Captains are Ron Max of Maryland, who we got already, Anna Livingston of Washington DC, Ramona Cass of Virginia and Abel Pickling of Delaware. They run the fifty states. We found out Abel owns some creepy haunted house in Maryland called The Pumpkin Face and apparently, from what the papers show, she spends a lot of time there. Several meetings were held in that location.”

  “I think she stash her money there too.” Swoopes added, although Bricks wished he’d go mute.

  “Outside of them being somewhat hit men, they are also in charge of the Breeder Machines. Places like this which breed and house children.” He looked at Yvonna to be sure she was still with him.

  “Go ‘head. I’m listening.”

  “Okay...under the Four Captains of Pain are the Eight Secretaries of Tolerance. They are supposedly nicer and slyer. Willing to work with people instead of being violent at first. Each Captain has two secretaries who report directly to them. Under Ron Max are Dana Kellogg and Elizabeth Hay. Under Anna are Charles Blaine and Heather Randolph. Under Ramona are Hillary Webster and Patricia Parker. And under Able are Toni Upshur and Susan Madison. We call them pimps too, but the world calls them evangelists.”

  “This shit sounds so complicated.” Yvonna said, shaking her head. “When we got involved, I didn’t know it was going to be all of this.”

  “You don’t get to be in business as long as they have, sell children and avoid the law unless you’re complicated. This organization sees a billion annually for sure.” Bricks paused, to return his attention to the papers on the table. “Now...under the secretaries are the Fifty Orphanages which are located in each state. If they can’t sell a kid, they send them there and that’s where all the sick shit happens. Child sex orgies, bondage and some more shit. A lot of people pay money to fulfill their sick fantasies.”

  “When I was coming up, I think they had us in an orphanage.” When she remembered the babies having babies she said, “Maybe it was both.” She rubbed her head. “I’m so confused.”

  “I know, Squeeze.” He softly pulled her hand and made a space for her on his lap. She sat down, hung her arm over his shoulder, and immediately felt at ease. When Bricks looked at Swoopes, Swoopes smirked and shook his head. Their little riff didn’t go unnoticed by Ming, who once again felt like a third arm.

  “Okay...one captain will breed fifty kids a year to be sold and they’ll also recruit Outsiders to work the stroll.”

  “What’s an Outsider?”

  “A girl who is recruited on a social networking site or in a runaway hangout. She can also be from the home of a parent who is irresponsible. They dope them up and make them sell their bodies. Outsiders are never adopted out for money. They know too much of the real world and must always be watched.” He paused. “Now the children who are bred, are adopted out because they are sold as babies or brainwashed if they’re older. They are never at risk of trying to find their families. And it’s the secretary’s responsibility to oversee both the outsiders and the bred children.”

  “The bred children are like gold minds because they sing the praises of AFCOG, which encourages contributions and donations from people who are none the wiser. Baby, these mothafuckas are selling pussy, kids and getting donations because they operate as a church.


  “How can we bring ‘em down? It’s too many mothafucka’s involved. I wouldn’t even know where to start.” She was frustrated not because she was going up against AFCOG, but because if they didn’t have a firm understanding of the process, she would never win her life back and be able to spend it with her child.”

  “It’s easy…instead of going for the orphanages; we go from the middle up.” Swoopes said, as he clapped his hands together. He didn’t have to tell them but dreams of murder was on his mind.

  “What ‘Little-No-Basement’ is trying to say is that we’ll go after the Eight Secretaries of Tolerance, to the Four Captains of Pain and finally to Rufus Day.” Bricks smirked and Swoopes gritted on him.

  “Why can’t we just kill Rufus? Why the middle men first?”

  “Because any of the Four Captains is fully capable to run shit alone. And because the same may be true for the Eight Secretaries, it’s best to kill them too.” Bricks paused. “You bring down the heads of this shit, and everything else crumbles, including the orphanages.”

  She loved the plan and how her team came together. “How can we get to all of ‘em?”

  “According to this paper,” he pointed at it, “there is a religious conference in a few days. The Eight Secretaries of Pain will be there.”

  “And we will too.” Ming added.

  “When we get them, we hit ‘em quick and hard. Now it won’t be that easy with The Four Captains because we’ll have to put in a little more work for them, but at least Rufus will know we’re not to be fucked with.”

  “He knows that now.” Yvonna grinned. “And I love the plan.”

  When Mike’s phone dinged, their conversation was interrupted. Ming walked over to him, snatched the phone out of his leather jacket and read the incoming text message. As her eyes moved from left to right, the color drained from her face.

  “What is it, Ming?” Yvonna asked rushing up to her. Bricks and Swoopes were right behind her.

  Ming couldn’t speak so Yvonna snatched the phone to see for herself. The text read: ‘Yao says let him know if you can’t find her. He just located the address to her kid. We’re moving there next.

  BILAL, Jr.

  Bilal, Jr. sat in a chair in his bedroom, looking out the window for his brother Uzi, who made bail and was on his way home. He could smell burnt bacon from the kitchen, courtesy of his aunt Easter, along with her ranting on the phone and he was irritated. Wanting a little privacy, which he hardly ever had, he stood up, closed the door and walked back to the window.

  Since Yao gave them the money to bail Uzi out, Bilal, Jr. wondered how Uzi would react toward him when he got home. He heard his aunts and uncles whispering behind his back. He knew at least two of them blamed him for everything and didn’t want him there anymore. It was like his future was in Uzi’s hands.

  When a cab finally pulled in front of the house, Bilal, Jr. could feel his heart thump wildly in his chest. It seemed like it took forever for Uzi to step out and pay the driver. Bilal, Jr. was trying to read Uzi’s facial expression, and unfortunately it didn’t tell him anything he could decipher.

  The moment the front door opened, Easter who was still on the phone in the living room, screamed as if Uzi was coming home after a twenty-year bid. “Bitch, I’ma call you back! My nephew home!” The sound of the phone dropping followed her random screams.

  “You wildin’ out now.” Uzi said to his aunt. “It ain’t been but a couple of days.” He talked to her for a few more minutes before walking toward the bedroom. When the dirty white door opened slowly, Uzi’s head peeked around the corner. “What you looking all sad for?” He joked. “Don’t tell me you miss a nigga too.”

  Bilal, Jr. grinned because he just knew the reunion would end with him telling him to kick rocks. But the wide smile on his face told him that for now anyway, everything was cool. To say Bilal, Jr. was relieved was an understatement. Uzi, the main family member in his corner, could make or break his world. He was the big brother he always wanted, but felt he didn’t deserve and the last thing he wanted to do, was let him down.

  “I kinda missed you. But it ain’t all like that.”

  “Yeah right?” He moved up to him and play jabbed him twice in the chest, while protecting his face with the other fist. “Don’t try to fake now, youngin’. The look on your mug when I came in told me everything.” He chuckled and went to Laser’s dresser to rough his bag of weed and a blunt. Uzi sat on the chair across from him and got to work on the blunt. “You know you look just like me right? I never saw it before now but it’s crazy. If I had any of my baby pictures, you wouldn’t be able to tell the three of us apart.”

  “I ain’t got no problem with it, if you don’t.” Bilal, Jr. smiled, sitting on Laser’s bed.

  “Don’t sit on his shit.” He yelled, pointing at the bed. He sat there all the time so he was confused.

  “What?” He looked down at it, thinking something was on it. “I sit on it all the time.”

  “Well don’t sit on it no more, mothafucka.” He shot back. Uzi never spoke to him like that and he felt something was off. “Your bed on the floor, remember that shit.”

  Instead of sitting down on the floor, he leaned against the wall. “My bad. I was just trying to get comfortable.”

  Uzi shook his head. “I was thinking about what you said the other day, about you looking like your father. And it made sense at first until I thought about it in my cell. You don’t look like him,” he licked the edges of the blunt paper, “you look just like me.” Bilal, Jr. eyed his brother’s naturally good looks and had no complaints. “But we have some working on you to do. It’s time for you to step up and man up.” He looked him over. “Would you kill somebody if you had to?”

  “I never thought about it.”

  “Well the time to think about it is now.”

  “I guess.” He shrugged. “But it would depend on the reason.”

  “You should always be willing to do what you must. And you need to ease up too. I saw the look in your eyes when I came home. You thought that shit was going to keep me down. I’m tougher than that.”

  “I was worried about it. Since you answered for something you didn’t do.”

  “I didn’t have a choice. My brother can’t handle jail, I know that. Grant it, he could’ve made a better move by not fucking that skank in the first place, but that’s what brother’s do, pick up the slack for one another. I’m just glad they dropped the charges since she wouldn’t testify. And the hood told me what Laser did to her brother.”

  “Laser?”

  “Yeah, he shot him. I knew that was going to happen when I found out she lied. You gotta be careful with him. He snaps.” Bilal, Jr. was stuck because he couldn’t believe Laser’s deception. He was the one who shot the brother, not him.

  “How’s her brother doing?”

  “They say he fine. The bullet didn’t hit no artery.” Uzi shrugged. “But who gives a fuck?” He paused and looked at him. “What would you have done if she showed up to court?”

  Since he’d didn’t get the credit for what he did to her brother, he gave a lazy response. “Whatever I had to do.”

  He smiled and when the blunt was completed, he pointed it at him and said, “Would you have taken the charge for me? If I didn’t step up?”

  Bilal, Jr. felt like he was testing him but he didn’t understand why. He also knew his brother was serious, and that he needed to be sure before he responded. For all he knew, he would call him on it in the future. “Yeah…if I could, I would do anything for you. You my brother.”

  Uzi grinned. “Luckily for you I’m a grown ass man. And ain’t shit them weak ass police can do to me, that I can’t handle.” He put the blunt on the dresser. “Be like me, not like your father, B. I heard he was part soft anyway.” He stood up. “Any nigga that would deny his kids, like he did us, is part soft.”

  Uzi stood up, took his coat off and then his shirt. Balling the shirt up, he lifted his right underarm, wiped the perspirati
on off and moved to the left pit. When he was done he smelled the shirt and said, “Damn…I’ma have to wash these right quick.” Bilal, Jr. didn’t know what to do with his eyes, so he observed everything he did. On his way out the door he said, “Follow me, B. I gotta rap to you about something serious and I don’t want to forget.”

  Bilal, Jr. did as he was told and followed him out the bedroom, past his aunt Easter who was eating bacon as black as tar, and into the only bathroom in the house. Uzi turned on the sink, grabbed his yellow washcloth and a thin pink bar of soap. Everything seemed to be a performance, like it was thought out. Lathering the rag up he said, “What you plan to do while you here? I been meaning to ask you but we never had a chance to get serious. Since Laser’s not home right now, I think this is the best time.”

  Bilal, Jr. looked at a roach trying to make its way into the bathroom, so he stepped on it. Uzi picked it up with his bare hands, threw it in the toilet and proceeded to wash his pits.

  “I guess I don’t understand the question.” He was talking to him, but looking at the roach that surprisingly, was still alive and fighting to reach the edge, to save his life. “I don’t have a high school diploma, so I don’t know.”

  “What you mean you don’t understand, the question is simple enough?”

  In Bilal, Jr.’s mind, this was Uzi’s way of trying to put him out so he kept it real. “I don’t have nothing planned I guess.” He shrugged again, his favorite motion. “At least I haven’t thought about my life that far yet.”

  “Everybody that stay here gotta work.” Bilal, Jr. heard his aunt Easter’s cackling voice, as she held the phone to her ear and wondered what her contribution was. “I guess I can find a job, if I try hard, Uziya.”

  “Never call me my government name again,” he told him, pointing in his face. Suds from the washcloth touched his face and he wiped it away. “There’s a reason I go by Uzi, respect it.”

  Uneasy about his tone he responded, “Sorry, man.” Bilal, Jr. focused on the roach in the bowl again. If it swam just a little bit faster, it would probably make it out safely. “It slipped out.”