Hood Misfits, Volume 4

by Brick

  “Guess you’re going to be the only bird-nigga dying today,” Enzo coolly said as he stepped behind Micah.

  Micah never saw the hit to the back of his head coming. It was lights out before his body hit the ground. Enzo had knocked him unconscious.

  Chapter 18

  Enzo

  I looked down at a nigga who really should have been six feet under by now. Annoyance had me shaking my head while I took in his appearance. This nigga was slumped over with his gun in his hands, cradling it like the fuck boy he was. Micah sported all black and I wasn’t sure if everyone saw it or not but an insane glint of desperation and anger that had him stinking with pitifulness wafted around him. It was really a shame how gone this nigga was, but shit, wasn’t any sympathy for this nigga anymore. He lost that right, long ago, so I hop-skipped and slammed my boot on the side of his face.

  I heard Angel next to me asking what I was going to do with him. That was a good question because I had many things I wanted to do to him.

  “Let him hang again,” came from the left of me.

  Drew stood there in his hoodie with his hands fisted and heated anger in his eyes. He’d come up from the basement with my mother not too far behind him. I moved to the side, waved a hand over Micah in a gesture, and my baby bro took the offer to slam his fist into that nigga’s skull. He stood up, and pulled a knife from that cat’s body and sliced it across his face with a smirk. “For cutting you, bro.”

  “Respect, baby bro,” I said with a slight smile. My hand slid up to my jaw while I straddled the void of darkness.

  That was when we were suddenly covered in a rain of bullets.

  “Everyone get the fuck back and under cover! Nigga got more reinforcements!” Phenom shouted out.

  Both Drew and me broke apart in rapid sprints. The shots that fell had me taking Angel by the hand, who came up on my side, moving her in front of me and shielding her while we ran. I took in my surroundings, trying to get to my mother to shield her at the same time, but Drew was my saving grace. I saw him make it to our mother, who was running toward the side of a nearby house. Mirror was at her side, and both my brother and he threw their arms around her, and picked her up to move her to where she was going. Relief hit me, and both Angel and I ducked behind a car.

  “Shit! That nigga is crazy,” Angel panted out, pushing her hair from her face. She held her Glock in her hand and shakily reloaded it by going into her pockets and pulling out a new clip. The sound of glass shattering from meeting the force of the raining ammo aimed at us had us taking in our surroundings and trying to move without getting hit.

  Carefully leaning, I looked to see where Micah was lying. Of course, the dude was gone. Anger blazed through me, but as I was moving back to duck again, I saw two familiar faces carrying Micah to a car: Officers Deebo and Uncle Phil. Heat had me fisting my hands and punching the side of the car we rested against.

  “What!” Angel jumped then moved to position herself on her hands and knees.

  “Get ya cell, call Fuego, and tell him to come to this block. Then when you hang up, tell the Misfits and Phenom to lay low because Fuego will be coming, a’ight?” I quickly spit out, turning to look into Angel’s concerned eyes. “Don’t ask me shit, just do it. I need you to be Queen because this shit ends tonight. Go to that empty house, take out whoever the fuck you can; just watch your fucking back, ma. I’m going after Micah.” I pushed up to crouch low, looking for a window of opportunity to run and make my way back to the house. I needed my whip.

  The feel of Angel’s hand on my shoulder had me turning toward her, where she gave me a frustrated gaze then ran off to where I pointed. The sound of gunplay sparked up again. I watched her turn and pop off several rounds before safely making it to where she quickly pulled out her cell, and began making moves.

  Because she had run ahead of me, this also worked to draw attention away from me, so I pulled my cap down and jetted. I knew the block better than did the niggas who were gunning for us. Occasional flickers of people’s lights going off on the block let me know which houses not to go to in order to protect the people, and which houses to go to. It was code for those of us who protected the block.

  Though me and my mom hadn’t lived in this area for years, it was she who made sure the block stayed clear of any crime and drama. This was African Queen territory. If any AQ needed protection, everyone here gave it willingly due to the help the Queens gave in not just keeping crime away but, in keeping the area safe for children, and keeping the schools together, as well as helping the elders who lived here get whatever they needed.

  So I ran until I saw one of the empty houses where we used to stash various rides in the garages, and I pulled out a bike. Hopping on it, I copped the keys in a hidden compartment, revved it up, and circled back around. I could see the car with Deebo and Uncle Phil finally pulling off. Phenom and Anika had made them pause due to their gunfire going at them. I waved a hand, signaling that I was going after them, and then they turned to run off and disappear to go after several other of the Micah’s people.

  Leaning on my bike, I zipped fast. I could tell how the car swerved that they saw me. They turned to go toward another section of the block, also AQ zone, and I smirked. Pulling up on my Kawasaki, I popped a wheelie, zipped up to make them turn where I wanted them to, then whipped out my Glock and set off rounds. I watched bullets hop off their shielded car until they hit their brakes in a cul-de-sac. I revved up my bike, making it smoke and giving signals to the people in the houses around me. Anxiousness had me rolling my shoulders to crack my neck and I gripped the handles, waiting.

  For me, I wouldn’t have been shocked if Glocks were pointing at me right now, and, surprise, that was what happened. Both Uncle Phil and Deebo exited their ride to shoot off rounds at me. Turning my bike to the side, I hopped off then sprinted to the right of me. I felt the graze of a bullet on my bicep and right thigh. Too amped to feel the pain, I turned as I ran and squeezed off my own rounds, narrowing my eyes to focus on my enemy.

  I learned how to shoot and run with good aim the moment I told my mom, Shy, about working for Dame. That day, in her anger, after getting into it with me to the point of her putting hands on me like a mother would, she dragged me out of my room, then took me to a secluded spot in the woods of ATL to show me how to protect myself. Years later, she would do the same for Drew.

  Now, I was using that skill by checking my breathing as I ran, tightening my arms and squeezing with purpose. One bullet hit the middle of Uncle Phil’s dome, right between the eyes; the other hit Deebo’s fleshy arm. I saw Uncle Phil fall to the ground in shock on his fat-ass face. Satisfaction hit me with a smile and I turned to find protection by a house.

  “You just committed yet another crime, nigga!” I heard Deebo’s greasy, husky voice bark out my way.

  Fire burned in my lungs as I caught my breath. I pulled out another clip from my jeans, and closed my eyes at that pain that was slowly waking through my body. Licking my chapping lips, I ran a hand down my face and quietly got up to move around the house the opposite way I came, listening for Deebo or for the car to start up. Hopping over a fence, I landed in a side alley near the first house of the cul-de-sac. Turning to run back to where my targets were, my boots skidded to a halt, as I was greeted by only my bike and the car that those niggas were in.

  Pissed off, I turned to get my bike then stopped when Micah stood at the entry of the cul-de-sac. He must have come the way I did without me realizing it, which annoyed me. Looking left then right, I knew Deebo was somewhere, which soon was evident with the bullet from behind that entered my side then exited. Turning again, I saw Deebo behind me on the opposite side of their ride. A evil, contorted look was on his face and I saw his finger squeeze the trigger again.

  “Shit!” spewed from me, and I ducked low, only to hear Micah’s Glock go off at the same time.

  Thinking quickly, I pivoted and fell vertical. This allowed Micah’s bullet to meet Deebo’s heart, as his bullet sliced
through Micah’s thigh. Holding my side to keep the blood at bay, I quickly pulled off my skullcap and tucked it into my shirt to soak up the blood.

  Get up! echoed in my head, urging me to push up, which I did.

  Micah sat on one knee holding his thigh, his Glock shakily pointing my way before dropping. Lights from various cars stopped near the entry of the cul-de-sac and I saw two familiar Misfits, who gave me a signal that they were still watching my back and the block. They pulled off and a second car came up, which had Fuego in it.

  Slowly walking forward, I thumbed my nose then spoke through my gritted teeth, eying that kneeling nigga. “You ready to finish this, nigga?”

  Micah’s head snapped up as he stared at me in vengeance and indignation. “Beyond ready, nigga.”

  With that, he pushed forward to charge headlong into me, crashing us to the concrete. Blow after blow connected to my ribcage then face. I could feel bones breaking and knew that if I made it out of this, the healing process would be a long one. The feel of metal against my jaw had me noticing that Micah had a knife in his hand and was using the handle as additional force.

  Hissing, I wished I knew some fucking martial arts moves, but I didn’t so I had to work my way off of him using football moves. Letting each blow hit me, I let him feel himself and lose it in working on me until his eyes held a glassy look. Sticky, heated liquid spilled from my mouth and nose, and then I used both hands to grab his wrists, and twisted then rammed my head up into his face.

  Following him as he fell backward, I caged him then slammed my own fists into him, two times. The sound of his cheekbone shattering, then his nose, made me laugh aloud. Using a third blow, my knuckles connected to his Adam’s apple, making his eyes buck up then had him automatically grabbing his throat. Pushing up, I used a fourth punch to his solar plexus then snatched him by his skull to slam it on the ground.

  “Niggas never listen to the clues God gives them about what to do in their lives. You should have let me stay in the dark, nigga!” I spit out before pushing up and kicking his gun to the side.

  At that moment Micah, still wheezing and gasping, reached out to snatch at my ankle. I turned with force and brought my foot down on his face. His scream hit the air and he rolled to the side in a fetal position to cover himself. I steadied myself as I slightly rocked to the side and limped.

  I inhaled deeply to get strength, and turned to snatch him back up. The fucked-up part about it was that I wasn’t fast enough because Micah’s fists came at me again, but I pulled into him, kicked out, and met his chest again. Following, Micah stumbled but greeted me with more blows.

  We went at each other like two rams with horns locked, until I had him slammed up against the car using my strength to snap his spine with my hold. I squeezed then tried to turn him so I could hit him where I had stabbed him when we last fought, but he slammed his elbow into my face catching me off guard. My daze was hazy from blood lost and his blows. I saw him stumbling to get his Glock but anger had me shaking my head and reaching out for him.

  “Fuck you Orlandos. Never again will you take from me!” I heard him yell.

  “You’re going to let this nigga get you? Fuck that! End this bitch! You played enough, son,” roared in my mind.

  As his Glock turned into position, I ducked low, slammed my fist into his stomach, and then reached up to grab him by his throat to lift him in the air with a body slam to the ground. All my force was in that moment, and in that blackout I took my blade from my boot, then let it slash across his throat deep enough to cut but not kill by missing the jugular. Beautiful ruby liquid splashed over the ground and me.

  Micah shook, seized, and clutched at his throat in disbelief under me. His feet thrashed in his all-black clothing. Hatred filled his eyes. As he tried to snatch at me while I kneeled over him, I held out my blade to him in amusement then pulled it back.

  Slowly I stood back up. Wiping off my knife, I secured it back in my boot. The sound of several feet coming my way piqued my interest. Glancing down, I took a knee then grabbed Micah by his head and started to drag him. If there were snow or dirt under us, I’d have imagined his body would be making a line behind me; instead it was his blood. I walked forward, toward the people who came at me, with purpose etched in my face.

  “Fuego, call up my gramps, tell him to send me Lilith. I have something for her,” I ordered while I kept walking. Micah’s kicking and bleeding body continued to drag with my pull.

  My mother stood ahead of me on the corner of the cul-de-sac in utter shock while she stared at me dragging Micah. She quickly moved to my side, laid a hand on my arm then whispered, “You don’t have to do this. You can let him die right here.”

  A flicker of sadness for my mother’s concern appeared on my face then disappeared in my darkness. She knew me so well.

  “You know I can’t. I did that enough; and you know better,” I said in a low, monotone voice.

  Tears shone in her loving eyes then she stepped back. She knew there was no way I could walk away now without making sure Micah was no more. The only reason it had taken me this long to off the nigga was because I needed to make sure my grandfather, Caltrone, would look after me once I did the deed. I hated to make a deal with the devil, but what had to be done, had to be done. And now that I knew Caltrone would ensure no evidence of Micah’s death would be traced back to me, I could end Micah once and for all.

  Quiet, I paused and stared at my mother with dark eyes. “You know I have to make sure he will never bother us again. I didn’t do all this shit for nothing. I didn’t go through this whole thing just so this nigga could pop up again later. He must die and I must ensure his death. I have to do this.”

  Licking her lips, she nodded. “I know you do, sweetheart.”

  I watched her walk off to meet up with Mirror. She took a quick right turn and disappeared away from the cul-de-sac. I heard Fuego rapidly talking, asking for a cleanup crew as I continued dragging Micah out of the cul-de-sac and down the neighborhood he and I had just shot up.

  Fuego reached out to touch me but I jerked out of his reach and stared at him in my madness.

  “I . . . Yeah, need me to help?” I heard him say. He watched me with a stoic but concerned gaze as he quirked an eyebrow.

  “Naw. I got this, just follow where I go and tell Lilith where I’m at,” I said then continued my dragging.

  Thumbing his nose, Fuego cleared his throat and followed. “A’ight, fam.”

  I wanted no distractions. I knew Micah had passed out from blood loss and pain because he had stopped thrashing, and I really didn’t care. Random brave people peeped from their windows to watch in shock while I walked and dragged a body down the street.

  Micah represented everything this neighborhood hated. So did I; however, they knew me and knew my loyalty. So some came out to help clean up the mess that ATL police would take forever coming to clean and fix up themselves. Taking a quick right, I stopped my dragging to grab Micah and hoist him over my shoulder. The strain of his weight hit me hard but I kept on until I made it to an empty house that was just two houses in front of Shy’s. Walking to the back of it, I stepped down several steps and walked into an open door.

  Fluorescent lights guided me, and I went deeper into the basement of the house. Inside, I saw my mother standing by an empty steel medical table with a quiet sadness and determination to her. Mirror stood at the door, holding back Angel who watched me in shock. A hand touched my shoulder and I didn’t jerk because I knew it was my baby brother’s. Squaring my shoulders, I dropped Micah on the table then forcefully yanked on his arms and strapped them as if he were on a crucifix. It fit him since he felt he was a martyr hunting me.

  “Enzo.” I heard Angel say my name.

  Shy held her hand up and, from the corner of my eye, I could see her shaking her head then motioning for everyone to follow her out of the place that used to be hers.

  “Let my son work in his zone,” she tenderly stated.

  My mom was fa
miliar with this place intimately. This was where she had taken the man who had tried to touch me and ended him. This was where she had brought a lot of people to silence them for my and Drew’s protection. She had told me this place was mine to use the day I hung Micah up the first go-round. She explained I could hang him here better and clean up more effectively.

  I listened to everyone leaving then I cleared my throat. “Angel, Lilith is coming. Keep her chill, and then I’ll call you to bring her in. Yo, Drew. I’m sure Gramps will show up; entertain him with your presence, you know, how we all spoke on.”

  I didn’t even look at them while I spoke. My eyes stayed on the concrete wall before me as I decided what to do first. I could hear both Drew and Angel walking; then I heard Angel whisper, “I got you.”

  Then Drew gave me a simple, slightly shaky, “Okay. I’ll play that shit up.”

  Silence covered me in a blanket, as the door to my dungeon locked me in with my plaything. Stepping back from a bound Micah, I moved around the room and grabbed the medical kit that my mother left for me. Taking off my shirt, I cleaned my blood off and bandaged myself. I also adjusted my shirt to hang it off my hips, leaving my white stained beater exposed while I grabbed an apron. As I did so, I heard the slight movement of Micah waking up. His shallow gasps started and I turned with a smirk. My work by far wasn’t done; it was just about to get better.

  Chapter 19

  Enzo

  “I didn’t cut your vocal cords so speak, nigga. What’cha gotta say for the big day that you led us to?” I said, snapping on gloves while heading back to Micah, who lay on my worktable squirming.

  Micah gave me a harsh snarl then worked up enough saliva to spit on me. A bloody glob ran down my face. I wiped it off, and then walked forward to slap my spit-covered hand on his face. “Funny.”