Paper Chasers

by Mark Anthony

  Xavier was rightfully alarmed.

  “Yo, Holz, what the hell are y’all doing with guns!? Yo, whose apartment is this? Holz, how long are we gonna be here?”

  “I’ll tell you later, X!” I angrily, and a bit fearfully replied. “Now just chill! Damn!”

  That was the last thing I needed was to have X nagging me like some woman. I was trying my hardest to figure out what, if anything, was about to go down. I was trying to figure out what moves I was gonna make. And at the same time I felt somewhat like a parent because I knew that if anything jumped off that I would have to make sure that X was a’ight.

  We all knew that we were about to enter a drug apartment, or should I say a drug warehouse. All of us knew that except for X. And that of course explained why he’d gotten so alarmed when we were all frisked. Xavier wasn’t the only alarmed one in our clique, ’cause I could sense that Donnie and Earl also weren’t too big on the idea of stepping into that apartment, especially without our burners.

  We all entered the apartment amidst the sound of loud rap music that was being played in the background. From what I remember it sounded as if a Kid Capri mix tape was playing.

  Including the big diesel and sweaty looking guy who had frisked us, there were four guys already in the apartment. There was also a sexy young lady inside the apartment that we didn’t know.

  We all were very cordially invited inside, in a street kind of way, to sit down on a leather couch that was in the living room. As we sat, we were all nervously looking at each other and no one was talking. A blunt was quickly rolled, sparked, and handed to Donnie. Donnie took a puff and then proceeded to pass the blunt around for all of us to smoke. No one was really taking deep pulls on the blunt ’cause we were all feeling very uncomfortable.

  PI then called me over to him, and out of the earshot of everyone else he privately began to speak to me.

  “Yo, Holz, what’s up man? I’m PI,” he said as he gave me a pound along with that quick ghetto hug.

  “What’s up, kid?”

  How did he know my name? I wondered. He had never actually met me before. And why had he singled me out as the go to guy in our crew? I guess he’d heard Xavier when Xavier had called out my name.

  “So what’s up?” he asked. “You or your boys want something to drink? Some Bacardi? Some Cristal?”

  “Oh nah, we straight. Good lookin’ out, though.”

  “Yo, Holz, so on the business tip, what can I lace y’all with?”

  “You talking in terms of work?” I asked.

  PI, who stood at about six foot three and 230 pounds, looked at me as if I was stupid.

  “Yeah, I’m talking in terms of work. What the hell else did y’all niggas come here for? Especially with burners on y’all waists!”

  At that point I began to think that I should have told PI to get us a drink, that way we wouldn’t have been coming across as so nervous and edgy, ’cause I know that I can definitely say that the gangster records and the gangster movies never tell about that nervous side that thugs have, but I for one was getting extremely nervous.

  “Oh nah, see I didn’t come to buy nothing. I only got like four Gs on me. Didn’t Bunny tell you?” I questioned. PI, who had a diamond studded, gold pinky ring on his right hand, slowly raised his drink to his mouth and took a sip.

  “Nah, potnah, she didn’t tell that!” he said arrogantly as he sucked air into his nose. “So what about your boyz? They got loot on them or what?”

  “Yeah, they got loot, but they didn’t come to buy anything either. We just came to chill, you knaaimean? We don’t want to blow up too fast and have the feds breathing down our backs.” I chuckled nervously.

  “What’s up, Holz? Man y’all trying to play uis or what?” PI asked, sounding as if he was truly ticked off. At that point I was feeling mad shook.

  “Nah, man, it ain’t even like that.”

  PI knew he was in control and he could sense my fear as he remained quiet. Trying harder to ease the tension, I reassured him.

  “Yeah, like I said, see it’s not even like that, you know? I mean, I’m sayin’ y’all niggas hooked us up and we ain’t gonna ever forget how y’all hit us off lovely. Yeah, y’all hit us off a little something when we didn’t really have nothing going on, you knaaimean? So I’m sayin’ we wouldn’t ever snake y’all.”

  “A’ight, I hear what you sayin’ kid. But, yo, listen. I’ll give you a kilo for four Gs right now and y’all can come back next week and I’ll give y’all the same price. What’s up?” Pi said in an attempt to call my bluff.

  Like I said, I was shook and PI could sense it, but I knew that I couldn’t just let him totally think that I was a sucker. So I added a little base to my voice and I donned a serious thug look.

  “Yo, PI, I’ll be straight up with you. I’ll buy the kilo for four Gs tonight, but that’s all I’m buying. And yo, I ain’t gonna stand here and lie in your face and tell you that we’ll be back next week, ’cause I doubt that that’s gonna happen.”

  “What’s up? Your money ain’t right or something like that?” PI inquired.

  I knew that four Gs for a kilo was a dynamite deal, but I also knew that the Colombians could either match or beat that price. My knowledge of what the Colombians could do for us and for just about any other drug dealer in the city is what led me to know for sure that PI had somehow got wind of the fact that we had purchased drugs from the Colombians. That had to be why he brought his figure so low and said four thousand. He probably lost mad customers like us to the Colombians and he had to have heard that they were selling kilos for as low as four Gs.

  Yeah, PI wanted to test me and see how I would react when he offered me the kee for four Gs. And yeah, I could have fronted and acted all excited about the price and even made real plans to continue to buy from them if they were to promise us that price from now on. But I knew that they didn’t have that kind of juice with the CIA and the DEA, and that eventually they would balk on the four thousand dollar deal. And to get PI out of Bunny’s hair, I had to hold my ground and just straight up tell him what was up.

  I mean hell, if he was gonna lose us as a customer, and if his distribution racket was hurting because of the Colombian competition, then all he had to do was start taking over other cats’ retail operations and he would be fine. Actually that was probably his only option, because I doubt that the Colombians would have even sold work to Mob Style because Mob Style was a form of competition to them.

  “Nah, our money is on point. I’m just sayin’.”

  “Oh word,” he said, as if he could read my mind. “A’ight. So your money is right and all you want is that one kilo? You don’t want nothing else, and you won’t be back for nothing else? Come on, nigga, you know you can’t get that price anywhere else on the entire East Coast! Holz, don’t diss us! Man, you know we hit y’all off with like what, a free half pound of weed, and we basically gave y’all a kilo when y’all couldn’t even afford to buy a full one a couple of weeks back. And this is how y’all cats from Queens turn around and front in a niggas face! Nigga, we the hand that fed y’all, and y’all gonna straight try to play us like that?”

  Some of my fears were starting to subside and I was beginning to get a bit annoyed. I mean the nigga was talking to me like he basically had handed everything to us in the past. He was sounding as if we had been desperate and came crawling on our knees begging for a handout. Man we had worked our butts off to get to where we were, and the truth of the matter was that we had never asked them for a gotdamn thing for free!

  “Like I already said, good looking out with that work in the past. But that’s it, kid! I’m sayin’, we’ll see y’all, but I ain’t gonna promise you that we’ll be back this week! Now come on, money, stop stressing me, word!”

  I had clearly overstepped my bounds with my response to PI. He looked as if he had demons inside of him, and he immediately reached into his waistband and pulled out a silver .22 long—with the seven inch barrel—and started firi
ng at me.

  “What!?” PI hollered. “You clown ass nigga!”

  I’ll tell you, and believe me when I do, that having the barrel of a hostile gun cocked and looking you in the face is one of the most frightening experiences in the world. As soon as I saw him reaching for the gun, I started sweating razor blades.

  “Ahhh!” I screamed as I put my hands up to shield off the bullet. The bullet struck me in my left forearm. While I was trying to shield myself, I violently made a 180 degree turn and fell very hard facedown on the floor.

  As I lay motionless on the floor, I was earnestly praying to my God to stop the madness. I was literally terrified and about to piss on myself, but I made sure not to move.

  “Yo what’s up!? What’s going on!?” Earl yelled as he heard the shots.

  Bunny was screaming. X was screaming like a little girl, and I don’t remember if I heard Donnie. Then I heard someone who sounded like that big bodyguard looking guy who had frisked us, telling Earl to be quiet.

  “Yo, money! Shut the hell up, kid! I want all y’all to shut the hell up and be quiet!”

  I heard PI ordering everybody to get face down on the floor.

  “Get on the floor right now! And turn over! Bunny, you too!”

  “PI, what’s up? Baby, what are you doing? Why are y’all doing this?” Bunny asked in a frantic plea.

  “Bunny, get on the got damn floor!” he insanely screamed. “All y’all cats is dying right got damn now! That’s what’s up!”

  At that point I was in a state that was beyond total fear, but just before death. And the only thing that I could seriously think about was my moms. I no longer felt the pain from the gunshot wound to my forearm.

  I would have given anything to wake up from that nightmare. I was praying that the whole episode was just a dream where I was falling, but unfortunately I knew that it was the real deal ’cause I was too close to the ground, and I hadn’t yet woken up. I could personally testified to the phrase, “he scared the crap out of me.” I didn’t want to check, but I thought I had just violated my underwear.

  “Yo, turn the stereo up as loud as it’ll go,” PI angrily instructed.

  After the volume was raised I heard plunk, plunk. Then there was a pause which was followed by plunk, plunk, plunk. Then I heard a single plunk. After the single plunk sound, I barely heard Bunny’s petite voice over the music as she screamed in terror. I then heard plunk, plunk, and I no longer heard Bunny screaming.

  “Yo, check their pockets!” PI instructed. “I know all of them got loot. Make sure y’all get all of it! These niggas still owe us like eight Gs, and they tryin’ to bounce on the bill!”

  “PI, what’s up with this nigga? You want me to pop a cap in him, too?” someone asked.

  “Oh, hell yeah!” PI answered. “Especially him! Murder all these cats!”

  After PI had barked the orders of execution, he started chanting.

  “Mo’ money, mo’ homicide, mo’ murder!”

  Bang! Bang! Bang! was what followed his chant, along with a burning pain and two gaping holes that were now in my back.

  I, along with everyone else who was unfortunately in the room, had just been shot in what felt like the back of the head, execution style.

  God, please, please, please, let me live, I remember begging. One bullet went into my shoulder blade. The other bullet felt as if it was in my skull. But actually, it had entered the back of the lower part of my neck, right near the base of my head. The third shot must have missed, or I just was in too much pain to feel it.

  I lay as limply as an impotent man. My eyes were closed and I was in shock. My forearm and my back felt as though they were on fire. I was in extreme pain, but yet I refused to scream. Instinctively, I wanted to fight back. I was ready to grab hold of the person who was now rummaging through my pockets. I wanted that four Gs that they were stealing from me, but I knew that my life was much more important than four Gs. I remember thinking, Holz, if you flinch, you’re dead! Just chill. God is watching over you.

  I wouldn’t let myself breathe ’cause I was too scared that they would see that and kill me. Never say die, Holz. Never say die. Mark, don’t let yourself die. I desperately wanted to open my eyes to see what was going on. Being left in the dark was torture in and of itself. I was silently panicking. I felt like I was drowning and choking on my own globs of blood. I wanted to cough up the blood, but I didn’t ’cause I knew if I did, I would be standing face to face giving an account of my life to God.

  I continued to feign death. Then PI repeated his words from earlier.

  “Yo, make sure all of those cats are dead! A’ight!?”

  Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

  I fervently started praying.

  Lord, please don’t let me die! Don’t take my life, Lord, please!

  “Yo, you got everything outta the kitchen and the bedroom right? Well, come on. Let’s get up outta this piece,” PI calmly said to the rest of his boyz.

  The stereo was lowered and a very loud silence quickly filled the room.

  I was still afraid to open my eyes. Certainty wasn’t upon me. I thought the gunmen might still be in the apartment. I felt blood all over my body.

  Why didn’t they shoot me again? I wondered. They must have thought that they’d shot me in the head and killed me. The shot came extremely close to my head, but fortunately it wasn’t a direct hit. I knew that if I or anyone else in that apartment was gonna live, I had to do something immediately.

  “Now or never,” I said. “Get help. Holz, get outta this apartment.” As I staggered to my feet, I scanned the room with my eyes. My vision was very blurry. One by one, I managed to see Earl, Xavier, Donnie, Bunny, and another guy and a young lady sprawled out on the floor. Ironically everyone had their eyes open, but it didn’t look promising. They were all lying in their own bright, prostitute-red blood. Pools and pools of blood were everywhere. None of them were attempting to move. I wondered if they’d all died with their eyes open.

  I tried to yell, but all that came out of my mouth was a painful and vague gurgling yell which was mixed with blood that I was simultaneously throwing up.

  “Donnie! Xavier! X! Answer me! Got damn it! Come on, y’all, let’s get outta here. We gotta hurry up. Come on!” I pleaded.

  No way on earth did I want to believe it. I didn’t want to believe that they were all dead.

  “Earl, get up! Come on, y’all, let’s go before they come back!” I urged.

  I was feeling very, very weak and dizzy. I was so weak that I dropped to my knees. Miraculously, and with my blurry vision, I was still able to crawl to the telephone and dial 911.

  “Hello,” I said.

  “This is nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”

  “I’ve been shot,” I mumbled.

  “Excuse me,” the operator said.

  “I’ve . . . We got killed. I’ve been shot . . . they’re dead,” I vaguely mumbled.

  “Sir, did you say you’ve been shot?” she asked.

  “Yes. I’ve . . . been shot,” I mumbled.

  “Sir, what’s your address? I’ll send the police and an ambulance right away . . . Hello . . . sir, are you still there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sir, we need your address so that we can help you.”

  “Uhm, East 110th Street in Harlem,” I whispered. With that, I had no more energy to even hold the phone. I was beyond weak. My hands were ice cold. I remember thinking of my family and of Sabine. I wondered if I would ever see them again.

  Don’t die, Mark! Hold on! I pleaded with myself. At that point I closed my eyes and I blacked out.

  I Don’t Know

  I vaguely remember being wheeled into the trauma unit. I remember opening my eyes and seeing doctors all around me frantically trying to save me. I had all kinds of tubes and bags attached to me, and needles stuck into my veins. I was face down on some type of table or stretcher. I closed my eyes and just lay there.

  The next thing I remember was
waking up in a hospital room. I didn’t know what was going on. All I knew was that I was butt naked with a gown on, and I had bandages all over my body.

  No more than ten minutes had passed since I woke up, and before I knew it, I had detectives asking me all kinds of questions.

  “Leave me alone! What’s going on?” I recognized my mother and father, who were also in my room.

  “Mom, what happened? What’s going on?”

  “Mark, you were shot,” my mom explained. “Just relax.”

  She then instructed my father to get the detectives away from me so that I could gather my thoughts. As my room began to clear out, I started to remember what had transpired. A gruesome picture popped into my head. It depicted Bunny and Xavier and the rest of them sprawled out dead on the floor.

  “Mom, I wanna sleep.”

  “OK, Mark. Just relax, close your eyes, and go to sleep. You’re OK. You’ll wake back up,” she promised.

  During the next four days I had many visitors. Friends, relatives, and people that I didn’t even know had come by the hospital to see me. My room was covered with balloons, flowers, candy, and cards. On Sunday my room was filled to the brim with Fourth Crew members and associates, all of whom had managed to sneak past security guards and make their way up to my room. Fourth Crew members were the only ones who I was willing to tell what actually happened. In full detail I recanted all that had happened and why I thought it happened.

  Fourth Crew went on to tell me that when they heard that we’d been shot, they bugged out. They couldn’t believe it. They told me that they didn’t find out about the killings until Saturday afternoon. My first guess was that they’d heard about it in the news. I shockingly listened as they told me that the killings were never reported in any of the newspapers, much less on the TV news.

  “Word,” Latiefe said. “We found out from Xavier’s mom’s. She was flippin’ out! Yo, she was crying and screaming like she’d lost her mind. The cops that came to tell her the news couldn’t control her. She just kept kicking and screaming and yelling, ‘My baby! My baby! They killed my baby!’ ”