by K'wan
“Rah, you tripping-” Rahkim began.
“I’m not tripping, Rahkim, you’re the one that’s tripping. As old as you are and as much as you’ve been through I’d think you’d be trying to defuse these kinds of situations instead of agitating them. Rahkim, that is not what Islam teaches,” she tried to reason with him.
“Man, fuck that. A nigga blasted on my brother and I ain’t supposed to do nothing? We can all be devout Muslims at Gunn’s ceremony tomorrow morning, but tonight I’m a muthafucking gangster.” Rahkim stormed past his twin.
Rahshida let out a deep sigh. “Hasn’t there been enough death already?” She was looking at the men assembled. “Criminal, wasn’t it your brother who got shot last month at the bus stop? Tears, how did you feel when those boys from Six Duce almost blew your face off in front of your son?” No one responded. “Don’t you see it? Us killing them and them killing us is getting us nowhere. The only people that thinking is beneficial to is white folks who don’t want you to rise above this foolishness. When it is gonna end?”
“When there’s only one side left,” Gunn called from the flowerpot he’d been sitting on. Rahshida hadn’t even noticed him until he spoke. There was a coldness to his eyes that she had seen in her little brother’s eyes just before someone died.
“And you, Tariq. What are you doing? It’s bad enough that I had to lose my brother to this madness. Will I lose you too?” Her voice was heavy with emotion.
“Nah, you ain’t gotta worry about Tariq, Auntie.” Gutter put an arm around her. “Tariq is coming back to the Coast with me, I’m gonna make sure he’s good.”
A glimmer of hope shone in Rahshida’s eyes. “Kenyatta, please don’t let him get turned out to this craziness. Teach him a better way.”
“I’ll do my best, Auntie,” he said, looking over at Gunn whose eyes were cold and focused. “I’ll do my best.”
IT TOOK nearly a half hour, but the young men finally went on their way. Snake Eyes was gone again, this time tracking down a current address for Major Blood. He’d heard through the grapevine that he’d purchased a property on the east side of Compton. Rahshida had taken Lil Gunn inside the house to have a heart-to-heart talk. He’d been elated when Gutter made the announcement that he’d be moving east with him. Gunn saw it as an opportunity to learn the art of gang-banging from a true street legend so naturally he was all for it. What he didn’t know was that his cousin had a whole different plan in mind.
Gutter had thought of himself as untouchable, especially after his resurrection, but the man formerly known as B-High had shown him different. The first thing Gutter intended to do when he got back to New York was move everyone out. He had recently closed on the house in Long Island and wanted it to be a surprise for Sharell, but the botched hit sped things up. Now her dream house was a safe house. He realized that he needed to do a better job at keeping his family and his hood separate and Brooklyn just wasn’t far enough.
“Can I holla at you for a minute?” Monifa walked up on him.
“Sup, ma?” he asked a little dryly. From the look in her eyes he could tell she had something heavy on her mind and he really wasn’t for it at that moment.
“Y’all really riding tonight?”
He looked at her as if it were a stupid question. “Come on, Mo, you know the answer to that.”
“Kenyatta, I understand you’re hurting over Gunn, as we all are, but ain’t much can be done about it right off. You said it yourself that he ain’t even in California so what good will it do for you to roll tonight?” The shameful look Gutter gave her put a nasty thought in her mind. “Gutter, you can’t. They’re civilians!”
“So was Gunn, he was inactive.”
Monifa gave him a disbelieving look. “Homey, the last time I checked you couldn’t retire from this life like a nine-to-five. I’m not saying it was right for Gunn to die, but he knew the risks. If you wanna ride on Major Blood, I feel you… but leave everybody else out of it.”
For a minute Gutter’s face softened, but when he saw Criminal standing off to the side waiting to see him his war face came back. “Mo, I hear what you talking, but I ain’t got no understanding of that shit right now. They done took the two people closest to me in under a year and if I don’t put my murder game down now, these niggaz ain’t never gonna learn.”
“Gutter”-she moved closer and spoke in a hushed tone-“you don’t have to do it like this. Revenge is one thing, but this… Kenyatta, I can remember a time where there were lines that even you wouldn’t cross.”
Gutter took a step back and stared at her. “This is a whole new day, baby, and I’m a whole new man, smell me? It’s kill or be killed, ma, ain’t no more passes.”
Monifa searched his eyes for some semblance of the youth or innocence that they once held, but all she saw were two pale green pools. No life, no warmth, only color. “You are truly lost, aren’t you?”
“Nah, I ain’t lost, baby.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I’m just really finding myself.” He stepped around Monifa and went to join Criminal.
Monifa watched him leave and wondered who the man was that she’d just spoken to. Gutter had always been a killer, or at least that’s what she’d heard, but even he was within reason. She didn’t know the man standing not ten feet away from her and she didn’t know the man that she’d given her body to. If Kenyatta Soladine still lurked anywhere inside that shell, he was buried too deep for her to discover. There was a time when she was the most important thing in Kenyatta’s life, but to Gutter she would always come second to the set.
“YOU GOT that done already?” Gutter asked in surprise.
“Shit, you should’ve known that wouldn’t take long. The biggest problem was having too many volunteers. The hood loved yo uncle, cuz,” Criminal said.
“Yeah, that’s all well and good, but I don’t need no bunch of ragtag niggaz at my back when I bust this move, C.”
“Kick back, cuz, you know I wouldn’t even do you like that. These niggaz is handpicked by me, cuz. Niggaz I ride wit on the regular, I know what they made of,” he assured Gutter.
“That’s why I fuck wit you, cuz, you always been a straight rider.” Gutter draped his arm around Criminal lovingly. “Man, you ready to put in some real work?”
“Cuz, you know I stay down for that one-eight.” He flashed the butt of the gun jammed down the front of his oversized jeans. “I been waiting for a reason to trip on a nigga anyway, but them touching Gunn means it’s no-holds-barred. Man, I’m gonna smoke any muthafucka out there, that’s on the turf!”
Gutter smiled at Criminal. Of all the young homeys, he really dug Criminal. He was a loyal soldier and spent more time listening than he did talking. Not only was he about his business, but he loved the set more than anything. He showed the same kind of vigor about gang-banging as Lou-Loc and Gutter had. If he survived the night he was surely going to become a big man in the hood, Gutter would see to that.
“Sup, locs?” Lil Gunn addressed the two men.
“What it is, lil nigga.” Criminal pounded his fist. “How you holding up?”
Lil Gunn shrugged. “I’ll be a’ight, man. Niggaz die every day.”
Gutter placed a hand on Lil Gunn’s shoulder. “Cuz, you daddy wasn’t just no nigga, he was a legend. You might not have been as tight with him as you should’ve, but don’t never doubt that your father was a great man. Outside of this banging shit, Gunn was a good nigga and did a lot of good for the neighborhood.”
“I hear you, cuz,” Lil Gunn said.
“Man, don’t even trip that shit ’cause you know we fixing to ride for the big homey,” Criminal told him, trying to pick his spirits up.
“That’s what I’m talking about; I’m ready to blast on something!” Lil Gunn said eagerly.
“Man, you ain’t gonna do shit but stay your ass in the house where women and children are supposed to be. This ain’t something for kids, man,” Gutter told him.
“Man, Criminal ain’t but a year or two
older than me,” Lil Gunn pointed out.
“But he ain’t my little cousin.” Gutter mushed him playfully. “Dig, I know you can handle yourself, Gunn, but I promised Auntie that I’d try to deprogram some of that street shit outta you.”
“Come on, G, that’s my pops!”
“Yeah, and you done already went and made your mark for him, which I’m still thinking about fucking you up about. Gunn, you’re still a shorty, man, no matter how many niggaz you done shot. Enjoy being a kid for a while, because when you blink it’ll be all gone, feel me?”
“Yeah, man,” Lil Gunn mumbled.
“Don’t feel bad, cuz. Just think, tomorrow night we’ll be on in New York City. If you thought L.A. was live, wait till you get a taste of the city. Them bitches love Cali niggaz.”
“Straight up?” Lil Gunn asked excitedly.
“Square biz, loc. Besides, you a Soladine nigga, pulling hoes is in your genes. Now go on in the house and start getting your shit ready. We still got a lot to do before we bail and I still gotta convince ya mama to let you roll.”
“She ain’t gonna give a damn. Not having to look after me will just give her more time to get faded.” Lil Gunn stomped off to the house.
“Watch your mouth!” Gutter called after Gunn, who slammed the screen door behind him.
“Man, you really ain’t gonna let that nigga get it in for his pops?” Criminal asked.
“Hell, nah, I ain’t letting him ride. That there is a child, Criminal, this shit ain’t for him.”
Criminal shrugged. “It ain’t really for none of us, but it’s what we got. Maybe if you let him ride out he’ll get it out of his system.”
“Let me tell you something.” Gutter grabbed Criminal by the collar of his T-shirt. “That’s my uncle’s boy and he ain’t gonna fall in line with this dumb shit. If I ever hear talk of a nigga letting Gunn ride again, I’m gonna be a real firm supporter of Crip-on-Crip violence, you understand me?”
“A’ight, homey, damn!” Criminal cringed. He’d heard stories about Gutter’s wrath and didn’t want to be on the receiving end of it.
“Good.” He let him go and then smoothed Criminal’s T-shirt.
“Look, man, sorry about all that. Check, y’all go out and start rounding up them cars. When the sun goes down we ride on oh-las.”
chapter 34
MAJOR BLOOD paced back and forth under the L on 128th and Twelfth. There was planning to be done and enemies to lay and Hawk wanted a sit-down. He had no idea what the man wanted to talk about and frankly didn’t care. All he wanted to do was get it over with so he could go back to busting Crip skulls. The news of B-High’s death didn’t sit well with him.
B-High was a two-bit junkie and a killer, but one of the few friends Major Blood had left. It should’ve been a simple task for him to follow Sharell and then kill her, but something had gone wrong. Now Major Blood would most likely have to kill the bitch his self, if he could even find out where she’d disappeared to. She and Satin had vanished and nobody seemed to know where they were, but they couldn’t hide forever and he always filled his contracts, no matter how long they took.
“Man, what you think he wants?” Eddie asked nervously.
“Like I fucking care. They smoked Miguel, man. I don’t wanna hear nothing other than a full-out strike come outta that dude’s mouth,” Tito said.
“Oh, don’t worry about that, my nigga. We’ve played enough, now we crush Harlem and bring the glory back to the five. This is the part of the movie where the thugs cry,” he vowed.
“There he go right there.” Eddie nodded to a black Mercedes truck that was coming down the block. Before the car had even come to a complete stop, Hawk was on the curb and making hurried steps toward the trio.
“Hawk, what’s popping, baby?” Eddie grinned.
“You, shut the fuck up.” He pointed at Eddie, wiping the smile from his face. “Blood,” he addressed Major, “I need to holla at you.”
Major Blood shrugged his shoulders. “So talk.”
“What the fuck are you out here doing?” Hawk questioned. Red and Shotta had parked the car and were a few paces away watching the scene.
“My job, nigga. Fuck you think I’m doing?” Major Blood shot back.
“I don’t recall you making all of us hot being a part of your job description. Do you know I just got outta lockup?”
“They just springing you from the Island?” Major asked in an uninterested tone.
“No, the precinct.”
“Then what the fuck is you crying about, Hawk. So you had to spend a few hours in the can, personally I think it’s good for your character.” Major snickered.
Hawk took a deep breath. “Look, homey, don’t break fly with me. I’m talking about this sick-ass game you’re playing with Gutter’s people. You’ve got the police crawling all over the hood behind this shit. Why don’t you just whack who you gotta whack and be done with it?”
“Oh, I’m gonna kill Gutter all right, but I’m gonna do it in my own time, on my own terms,” Major said.
Seeing that reasoning with Major wasn’t working, Hawk decided to throw his weight around. “Check this, Blood, you a respected member of this thing of ours, but I’m calling the shots in Harlem. Now, you done turned a fruitful-ass spot into a shooting gallery all because of some sick-ass game you’re trying to play with Gutter. My advice to you is to do what you came for and get on the next thing smoking back west.”
Major stared at him in disbelief. “Your advice? Muthafucka, who is you to advise me of anything? Blood, them niggaz smoked my little man, so this grudge is personal now. First I’m gonna finish smashing on Harlem, then I’m gonna kill Gutter’s bitch, and just when that nigga think it can’t get no worse I’m gonna pop his fucking head off. So my advice to you, is to try and stay out of the cross fire. I’d hate to see you end up like Bad Ass.”
Hawk felt a chill at that statement. It was rumored that Major had had the O.G. killed, but the evidence was never solid enough to bring him before the nation on charges of treason. Hawk knew that Major was trying to intimidate him and if he let him the killer would surely have free rein in New York.
“Man, I ain’t Bad Ass!” Hawk shot back. “I’ve been putting in work for a long time, Blood, don’t test me.”
“Fuck outta here.” Major laughed him off. “When is the last time you shot some fucking body? See, that’s the problem with you old niggaz.” Major inched closer to him.
“Watch ya self, son,” Red spoke up. He moved closer to Hawk, but Major Blood ignored him.
“When y’all come up on a few dollars,” Major Blood continued, “you lose that edge, and that is a sign of weakness.” Without warning he shot Red in the chest, dropping him. Shotta moved to draw, but Tito had him covered.
“You know what they say about the weak and the strong.” Major rubbed the hot barrel across Hawk’s face.
“You loony muthafucka, if you kill me then your ass will never make it out of New York. You’ll spend the rest of your days as a hunted man.” It was a weak threat, but it was all Hawk could think of to say to save his life.
Major just laughed at him. “Baby boy, your name don’t hold that kinda weight anymore. It’s a new day in Harlem, Blood,” Major squeezed the trigger and hit Hawk once in the chest, surprising all in attendance.
Hawk clutched at the gaping hole and stared up at Major Blood in disbelief. He knew that the killer’s services came at a high price, but he never expected it to be his life. Shotta tried to break and run, but Major gunned him down.
“Man, they’re gonna send a fucking hit squad after us,” Tito said nervously.
“Let them,” Major said as if it were nothing. “In two or three days my cousin Reckless will be here with a few of the homeys from the set. Niggaz from the East Coast can either side with us, or die with Hawk. At this point I don’t give too much of a fuck.”
“This is bad, man. Real bad,” Eddie said, pacing nervously.
“The old ways are done
,” Major Blood said to the corpse at his feet. “It’s time to bring in some fresh blood.” With a smoking barrel in his hand he turned to Tito and Eddie. “What’s it gonna be, homey, the new regime or the old?” he asked, pointing the gun at Tito’s head.
“Shit, I’m wit you all day Blood,” Tito said hurriedly.
“What about you?” Major Blood turned the gun on Eddie.
Eddie swallowed his heart, which was trying to crawl up from his throat. “All I wanna know is what we’re gonna call the new set?”
“That’s what I like to hear from my generals,” Major Blood said proudly, tucking the gun back into his waistband. “This night marks a new beginning for our little family. Death to all those who oppose us, Crip, Blood, or civilian. Come on, y’all”-he draped his arms around them-“let’s go get twisted, because tonight… We’ve got a funeral to attend.”
GUTTER STARED at himself in the mirror for a long while before he finally managed to get off the bed. All of his jewelry and identification were wrapped in a sock and tucked in the top drawer. He was dressed in dark blue jeans and a black sweatshirt. Over his freshly done braids he wore a stocking cap so as not to worry about leaving hair follicles behind. He watched enough CSI to know that the police technology allowed them a million different ways to catch a nigga if they wanted them bad enough, and for what they were about to pull, they’d sure as hell be hot on their heels.
Making sure his twin Glocks were secured in the holsters around his belt he headed out the bedroom and descended the stairs. Monifa was sitting in the living room with Rahshida and Lil Gunn watching some old movie on television. He tried to smile at her, but she turned away. Fuck her too, he thought to himself. If she thought because she’d gotten a little dick from him in a moment of weakness meant she could dictate what he did, she was dead wrong. Gutter loved Monifa, but it was a love that had been slowly fading over the years. His love for the set was everlasting.