“Because it's all we got, dumbass; all we know how to do!” Nathan retorted while possessing a slight note of despair in his voice. “Face it: this city can't use us for anything… we don't got any real estate to them-”
“Bullshit!” exclaimed L. “Magellan doesn't fuck around when it comes to mathematics, I know this! He taught me, and best believe he could go on to be a fuckin’ professor somewhere—oh shit, it's him…” L lowered his voice. “Boss man's finally come outside…”
From the corner, where the kiine was being distributed, there appeared a barely distinguishable shape at the doorstep who eased down the small flight of steps with hands bloodied from a previous struggle. He was much shorter than his subordinates but maintained an intimidating presence to those around him. The newcomer carried the same body armor worn by Magellan with the addition of a black beret as well as a pair of dark cargo jeans and brown combat boots. He also wielded his own brass knuckles contraption… and a blue windbreaker engulfed his gear. The stranger’s beard covered most of his face below haunting, golden eyes which bore into the distributor.
The man reeked of weed so pungent that the scent diffused all the way into other Projects whenever he showed himself. Their boss could be heard saying something quietly to his subordinate, who stiffened as he was spoken to by the newcomer.
“Check it out, boss got our boy to start going back to 'yes sirs' and 'no sirs.' Guess everybody else thinks he's scary as hell, too.”
“Shut the fuck up, L; we work for that motherfucker now… he owns our crew.” Nathan hushed him.
“Ugh, you always treatin’ me like I'm your kid, man.” L retaliated. “We colleagues now; I'm not just some foot soldier anymore—”
“Well, to him you'll always just be a pawn. A disposable piece of meat. That's a man who doesn't understand one simple principle…”
L’s interest was piqued. “Yeah? And what's that, pops?”
“That Family is what paves the way for success—for survival.”
“Hey boo,” spoke a distant voice, “maybe you should listen to your 'pops' more often.”
A woman dressed in a grey jumpsuit approached. Attached to her hip was a magnum too large for its holster. “If I can't keep you in line, at least I know he can.” She winked at Nathan before sitting down with her arm around L. L's girl had been with him for two years and was addressed by all members of the crew as Kay, even if that wasn’t necessarily her real name.
A barefooted man suddenly made his way up to the gathering and limped closer to speak with them…
The group abruptly felt more distraught than they had all morning upon noticing this particular “customer.” He'd made himself appear humble before beginning meekly: “Good to see you fellas around… still on that same old shit as always, I see.”
“What do you want, fam?” Magellan said, his tone expressing indifference. “You come around to get fucked up? Huh?” He stood up to stride closer to the man. “You think you gonna keep getting discounts just because you wanna stay cool with us? After everything… –” Magellan scowled. “And you just keep comin' back…”
“Magellan. Stop!” Kay spoke out. “He’s our friend, remember? He started us on this game!”
“Naw,” Magellan shook his head and spoke much louder, “this fucking junkie played us.” He leaned in closer to the man. “You just can't stop fiendin', can you? You'll do anything—including sell out your own people!” Magellan grabbed his collar.
The stranger smiled and remained docile. “Listen, M… I shaped up, brother. I crawled out of it finally… no more of that kiine trash—going from hit to hit; it took everything I had.”
Magellan backed away before responding cynically, “Oh really? So it's like that for you now? You on the whole 'changed man' path, huh?”
He sighed. “I'm sorry I left. You all still my family, and I'm always going to be keeping it real with you—don't gotta worry about that. I just came here today to tell you that I'm going to get my life together. I don't need a hit or nothin', got me?”
“Naw, fam, I don't. You abandoned us, used us, and I just can't accept that…” Magellan turned his back to the man and went to sit.
“Magellan's right,” Nathan added, “you were a Leader before… but we just can't trust a guy who’s turned himself into a fuckin' tweaker. You’re one of them now.”
“Get out of here, fool.” Magellan exclaimed without glancing back. “You were the worst thing to ever happen to our crew.”
Their former friend shook his head then shrugged his shoulders in defeat. He tried to make eye contact with Magellan, who absolutely refused to match his gaze. “Okay,” he said, “… well, ya'll should know that I'll always have love for ya. I hope that one day you move from the Projects onto something so much better; you deserve that at least.”
He started to walk away but stopped when he heard Magellan hoarsely yell: “Wait!”
The man turned his head to acknowledge him.
Magellan only responded, “Don't ever come back…”
“I got you.” He winked. “Stay hopeful; I know it'll get better.”
The stranger then disappeared into the alleys of Zone D.
“Probably just gonna get his fix from somewhere else.” Nathan grumbled.
“Hmm. Magellan, maybe he really meant what he said.” said L thoughtfully.
“I'm sure he did, but people rarely change—I ain't gotta tell you that; the game stays the same, and there's still money to be earned—oh, wait… Demons just made a comeback, guys! They at a straight 44 to 46 right now!”
“Hell no! There's no way!” Nathan focused in on the broadcast.
“Demons finally showing out for Zone D!”
“What an emotional bunch.” someone jeered.
The Blood Disciples turned to see Tavon standing in their midst…
Magellan, feeling slightly disrespected, quickly got up along with the rest of the group.
“Who the fuck are you!?” He sized up the assassin and felt confused. This wasn't some ordinary fiend or rival thug…
“You don't even look like a user; are you like… a fucking cop? –Or some yuppie trying to get a habit going?”
“Tch,” Tavon sneered, “like I have time for that sort of thing—”
“Yo!” Kay curiously raised an eyebrow. “You look high as hell! You sure you know if you're in the right place, pretty boy? Smoke a little too much or something?”
“Well,” Nathan chuckled condescendingly, “he definitely walked into the wrong neighborhood. Why don't you move along on out of this place; we don't need people like you snooping around—plus, you smell like cop.”
“Naw Nate,” L laughed. “This fool smells like weed!”
“You two shut the hell up and let me take care of this.” Magellan moved to a distance within an inch of Tavon's face; he seemed to make a habit of asserting himself in conversation.
“Don't get it twisted, stranger,” Tavon replied, “I don't care how far you lean in to get a kiss; what, you the master pimp here or something?”
Magellan gave Tavon the hardest shove he’d given anyone all day before grabbing a metal bat he'd stashed underneath the bench. Tavon stumbled back several steps back before recovering to see that L had drawn a bowie knife, Kay had readied her magnum, and Nathan wielded a Glock that he'd loaded in an instant and directed at him.
“Listen up, punk!” Magellan boomed. “You really got no idea who you fuckin' with—and right now I'm gonna need you to give us one reason why I shouldn't bash your skull open right here! Ain't nobody going to come lookin' for your ass in the Projects—besides, we've been holding this place long before you even set foot in daycare, motherfucker!
“Easy, brother,” Tavon put his hands up in a gesture seeming to convey his surrender, “you don't gotta let steroids get the best of you now.”
“If you don't—” Magellan was turning a shade of crimson; his blood boiled.
“My apologies…” Tavon sighed. “I guess I did
n't make the best first impression, after all. I'm looking for someone.” he said earnestly despite being surrounded. “I figured you fellas could help me out.”
Magellan was astounded, but he slightly relaxed along with the rest of the Blood Disciples. “Where'd your goofy ass come from anyways? Who the fuck you even supposed to be?!”
“I'm from the Mid-City, like you, and I'm searching for a man who calls himself High Rise. I was going to be discreet, but I've got to hurry and make up a mistake I made with an important woman.”
“You've got to be joking…” Kay put away her gun and exhaled in complete disappointment.
Despite the rising emergence of the Blood Disciples, they happened to be one of the tamer mobs within the Citadel. Tavon hadn't expected very much in the way of a significant resistance as long as he didn’t attack.
“I don't think you'd want to find him.” Nathan said. “Someone's filled your head with nonsense… I'm afraid you got bullshitted, brother.”
“Excuse me, sir, but can I help you?”
The Blood Disciples froze.
Tavon aptly noticed the sheer terror in the look given to him by Magellan. He turned to face the short man in the beret and responded, “You actually might be able to.” The assassin offered him his hand. “Tavon.”
“Ekwueme.” The ringleader replied. “It seems as though my men are very angry with you, Tavon. I wonder what could have caused them to be so upset?”
L rapidly spoke up, his reasoning blinded with rage, “Yo, this cat was—”
In a flash, Ekwueme appeared next to L.
He struck the younger member so powerfully that it knocked him to his knees.
“Ugh—” Blood trickled out from between his lips. Ekwueme placed his palm on the soldier's head and slammed him onto the earth with a force great enough to knock L unconscious.
Kay became rigid where she stood.
Ekwueme turned to the onlookers and shouted curtly and with authority: “You will SPEAK only when SPOKEN TO! Do we have an understanding?”
Magellan slowly nodded his head, his eyes betraying entirely different feelings toward his leader. Ekwueme reacted by dashing closer before screaming in his face, “I said 'DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND,' SUBORDINATE?”
“Y-yes… yes, boss. We will speak to you only when spoken to.” Nathan expressed loudly.
And just as quickly, the ringleader of the Blood Disciples regained composure to once again politely address the newcomer.
“Tell me: why are my men upset with you? I require answers in order to rectify the transgressions made against my name.”
“Hmm…” Tavon looked him over with curiosity.
What a fiery little man, he thought to himself. “I was only asking them if they knew of someone called High Rise… but it appears to me that you might be that person.”
Magellan's eyes grew wide; the rest of the group became eerily quiet, and Ekwueme was taken aback for a moment.
He tensed his body and steadily raised his fist…
—And brought it to his mouth to stifle a weirdly giddy laugh. “Heh. Of all people! You want to see High Rise?! And here I thought you were going to start a war; you, sir, are very comical to me—funny man! Much funnier than that fool who couldn't keep his mouth shut!” Ekwueme was the only one overtaken with hearty laughter. “What a joke!” he remarked.
“I don't see what's so 'comical?' Did High Rise come through here or not? Are you him or not?”
“High Rise…” Ekwueme's face grew more serious. “Normally, I would take this as an insult but am aware now that you suffer a plague of ignorance. You see, Tavon, there was a High Rise who once worked these corners and owned the Blood Disciples for some time. He was the most successful thug in Zone D—that is,” he smiled wickedly, “until he could no longer keep his hands off the kiine. It is quite addictive, after all…”
“So, he is or was one of you.” Tavon smiled. “Good. I was right on the mark this time.”
“Indeed, sir.” Ekwueme nodded. “Though the High Rise we know lost his wife during one of the riots; she suffered a stroke. The, eh, paramedics weren't able to make it to her on time because of the masses of fools. Regrettably,” he feigned sorrow, “Rise lost himself to addiction, and I loaned him a great deal of money to help. In spite of my actions…” He shrugged nonchalantly.
Magellan clenched his fists upon hearing Ekwueme's words.
“Because he was unable to make on-time payments and meet my requirements, he settled by giving up his share of the territory. Thus, the High Risers were no more. I fashioned the Blood Disciples, a personal army beyond the ambition of that man. He no longer goes by that name, but he retains great notoriety to my people.”
“Thank you, Ekwueme.” Tavon showed their boss respect. “It’s genuine that you would tell me all that up front—unlike some people,” he glared at the others with mild contempt. “Now do you know where I can find this man?”
Ekwueme offered him a sly grin, as if he was trying to hide his own amusement. “I do, sir.” He managed to utter while stifling a laugh. “He left only a few moments ago… the weakling my Lieutenant Magellan rejected…”
“What?! You mean these guys wasted my time and could've been telling me this all along—what the hell, Magellan?!”
“I'm afraid so.” Ekwueme grinned madly. “High Rise completed his fall from power by frequenting his old stomping grounds… here on the Yunce Street Projects. My soldiers in this place share a hatred for this man; he was like a father to them. Now Rise has visited over and over again, always asking for discounts and getting lost in debts which he's failed to pay back on multiple occasions.” He looked to Magellan. “I cannot depend on weak leaders. With Rise's departure, it goes to show that the Blood Disciples have always been the superior force in the Projects. One day, we shall take Zone D and prove ourselves above others…” Ekwueme's conviction held firm. “But first, my soldiers must focus on debts owed. Debts handed down from that failure of a human—isn't that right, Magellan?”
“I didn't know who he really was until it was too late, I suppose.” He sighed. “That asshole fooled us all—everything's all good, though; we'll stay loyal and keep on until the day we die. Fuck High Rise AND his family! They did nothin' for us—”
“That's enough. Our visitor gets the point.” Ekwueme glared at his subordinate before turning back to Tavon. “High Rise is probably about to visit this coffee shop, eh… 'Kosho Cappuccino'. It’s his favourite place, I believe.”
And how do you know that?
“Ekwueme…” Tavon said. “You've been helpful.”
“Before you leave, Tavon, might I ask what business you have with a drug addict? I'm afraid he can be of no use to anyone now.”
Tavon winked, “I've got a personal deal going on with him. Let's just say I'm offering him a business proposition he can't exactly refuse.”
“Fair enough.” Ekwueme nodded his head as if he were dismissing him but did not remove his disturbing gaze.
The assassin took his leave and began a quick walking pace toward where he thought he'd seen the bare-footed man disappear while checking the shop on his Kom Cell. He briefly glanced back to see if Ekwueme's attention was still focused on himself, and there the Blood Disciple remained, gazing with a set of eyes resembling two bolts of lightning ready to strike down at any given time.
He’s got the look of someone who's spilled blood…
-
It was eight in the morning, and the Demons were tied with the Wolves.
Contrary to local weather updates, the skies had begun to cloud over and appeared to signify a storm which might or might not arrive. With a sense of urgency, Tavon continued to walk and pause several times in order to pretend he was using his Kom Cell while he subtly stalked the addict known as High Rise.
Tavon felt pissed that he'd been assigned yet another weak target but also took comfort in knowing that this was his last mission before he could graduate beyond the rank of Core-Man. Brock would be
both proud and disappointed: proud that Tavon was making something of himself after all this time but disappointed that his best friend was about to be a top tier killer.
Just as the addict stopped to stretch, Tavon received another message from his roommate: “Everything good? I’m about to grab some food for the place.”
Tavon replied while keeping an eye on his target: “Nah, I'm busy. Pick up a lot of meat. Not just that pescatarian shit.”
“… It's good for you. I'm trying to save your life, brother; fish and veggies are the way to go.”
“Just do it. I'm in the middle of something.”
Tavon disabled the application for receiving messages on his Kom Cell and proceeded once High Rise began walking again. From the back, Tavon recognized the blue windbreaker but noticed that the man wasn't wearing the hat mentioned in the contract. Instead, he displayed a head full of dark hair just barely receding. Rise’s body was mostly torn and bruised from excessive falls due to an overall loss of balance produced from Kiine's notorious side-effects. Half of his goatee looked as though it had been ripped from his face, which had slightly broken out and suffered inflammation as a result. He didn't smell of weed at all; however, his body odor was rather foul.
Overall, he walked with a confident gait and seemed vaguely resolute, but his appearance in the streets led to disgusted looks granted from all around. He passed by several who'd sized him up before refusing to greet him and sneering in judgment. High Rise’s footsteps were shockingly quick for a man who seemed as though he’d skipped through decades of his lifetime due to consistent drug abuse.
A coffee shop came into view as a small building which contained an outside sitting area crowded by oak trees towering over a beautiful garden. High Rise took a seat and clasped his hands together over an iron, circular glass table. He stared off into the distance for a long time and didn't appear to possess the means to afford anything to drink. This forced Tavon to spend money on a cup of coffee he didn't want as he sat down at a table a few feet away from his target. He gazed into the dark liquid, which transitioned to a shade of chestnut as the sun attempted to shine through the heavy onset of clouds. He sighed and decided to meditate on his own plans while waiting for High Rise.
Angelos Odyssey Page 10