by J. D. Martin
“Well, then there is not time to waste,” he said as he picked up the pace. Ally laughed as he pulled the keys from his pocket, hurrying towards his car with her jogging along behind. They passed by a chain-link fence surrounding electrical transformers before crossing the street to get to the car. As they reached the passenger door, Keith started to open the door for her when a figure stepped from the shadows of a nearby building.
The black man appeared under the street lamp wearing dark jeans with large letters down the side, an over-sized white t-shirt, and a large medallion hanging from the gold chain around his neck. He stood near the driver’s front fender as he flicked the roller on his lighter and lit the blunt in his mouth. The cherry started glowing as he took a large drag while Keith and Ally paused at the door. The two found the man’s sudden appearance alarming.
When he exhaled, the smoke drifted slowly from his lips in wisps that danced on the evening air. His gaze was fixed on them in a way that sent chills up Ally’s spine as she crowded closer to Keith, clutching his arm. He whispered that everything was alright as he unlocked the car, but his nerves told him that he’d just told his first lie to his fiancée.
“You guys got any cash on you?” asked the smoking man. “I need bus fare.”
“No, sorry,” Keith responded reaching for the door handle.
The man lifted his shirt to show the handgun stashed in his waistband. Pulling it free, he gripped the hilt and let it rest at his side. “Now that didn’t sound very polite to me. How are we to move forward with our transaction without a little respect? What do you think we should do here, bro?”
Before Keith answered, another voice spoke from behind them. “I think they should make a large monetary donation to our charity fund.” Ally and Keith both turned to see another man coming towards them also carrying a pistol. He was dressed similarly to his counterpart except that his shirt was red with splashes of black and white behind the outline of a bird. “It’s called the give-me-all-your-fucking-money foundation.” He lifted the weapon and aimed it at the two of them.
“I’m sorry,” said Keith. “I don’t have much money, but you can take everything that I have.” His fingers shook as he pulled out the few bills he had from his wallet.
“Give me the whole thing,” said the smoker. Keith handed the entire wallet to him and watched as he flipped open the leather and looked back at Keith with disgust. “Twenty-seven bucks? You’re going to have to do better than that, asshole.”
“How about we take the donation out of your bitch?” said the bird-shirted man. “I saw the way that ass was shaking as she walked across the street. I bet honey can give daddy a sweet ride.”
Ally tried to cover herself as the man’s eyes wandered over the surface of her body. Her lips trembled and her eyes watered as Keith tried to control the situation. “You’re right, there isn’t much money there. But how about you just take my car along with the wallet? That should make up for the lack of cash, right?” He held up his keys to him for acceptance.
“Tell you what,” said the smoker. “We’ve got your wallet and we’ll take your car; but that pretty little rock on your girl’s finger is coming with us too.”
“No, please just take what you the money and the car and go.”
“Keith, it’s alright,” said Ally. “Just let them have the ring.” She pulled it from her finger and offered it to the man behind them in hopes that it would leave them unharmed.
“Wait,” said the smoker with a sudden exuberance. “Tyrell, maybe we should just let them go.” His partner looked at him puzzled. “Seriously, man, give them their stuff back and we’ll all go our separate ways.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Dwayne? I’m here to get paid or a piece of this bitch’s sweet pussy. Why the hell would we let them go?”
“Just give them back their shit!” Tyrell stared at his partner as this sudden adlib seemed to come out of left field.
“Man, fuck you! I’m here to make some paper and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“Damn it! Give them back their shit before this mother fucker kills me.”
Ally gripped onto Keith as both were as clueless as Tyrell. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Dwayne was unable to respond as a loud flash of light exploded behind him and sent a bullet through the back of his skull and out his forehead with a splash of blood that painted the windshield of Keith’s car red. Ally screamed and Keith pulled her away as Tyrell focused on his friend’s body as it collapsed to the ground.
“HOLY SHIT!” Realizing there was another piece on the game board, Tyrell grabbed Keith’s arm before he could get away and ripped him from Ally’s grasp as she screamed. Standing behind his human shield, he held the gun to Keith’s head and shouted, “Who the fuck is there?!?”
Dwayne’s killer stepped into the light wearing leathers and a motorcycle helmet. In his right hand was the gun that put the first dog down, and it was now aimed directly at the last one. “Let them go and I’ll make it quick,” said the muffled voice from inside the full-face helmet. “If you don’t, I’ll be sure that you suffer violently.”
“Man, kiss my ass, bitch!”
“That’s a quick way to make it through door number two. How about I sweeten the pot? If you let them go, you can take me as a hostage. I’ll even take my weapon out of the equation.” He pressed the side of the pistol with his thumb and the magazine slid out and fell to the dirt. Kicking it towards Tyrell’s feet, he continued, “You only need one hostage anyway, right?”
“You know what, you’re right. Trying to make two people cooperate would be a bitch.” Tyrell fired a round into Keith’s back and Ally cried out as what was to be the happiest night of her life unfolded into the worst. The man of her dreams fell to the ground and all she could do was watch as blood spilled out at her feet. Her tears poured out and all she wanted to do was run to him, but she stood rigid out of fear until Tyrell grabbed her hair and dragged her over to him.
“I think I’ll take this here bitch with me,” he said.
“You forgot the chamber, asshole.” The biker fired his weapon and the projectile sailed above Keith’s limp form and past Ally’s thigh before shattering Tyrell’s left kneecap. Screaming out in pain, he released his hold on Ally and grasped at his wound as he fell to the pavement.
The biker appeared by his side with a blade that he jammed into Tyrell’s arm, forcing him to release the pistol amidst further agony. As he screamed, the biker unzipped a pouch on his right thigh and removed a needle that he swiftly pushed into the screaming man’s neck. Within seconds, Tyrell passed out.
Ally’s guardian tore the fabric of Tyrell’s shirt into strips before moving alongside Keith and applied pressure to his wound. “Do you have a cell phone?” Ally nodded her head. “I need you to stay calm and call 911. Put it on speaker so your hands can be free to help.”
She did as she was told, and set the phone on the concrete as she assisted the man aiding her fiancé. The emergency operator came on, and the biker reported what had happened and she relayed instructions to stay on the line as she routed police and emergency responders their way. Keith stirred, but he was barely able to concentrate on what was happening around him. The man placed Ally’s hands over the wrappings and showed her where to apply pressure.
“I can’t stick around with police coming,” he said. “I meant what I said earlier. He’s going to pay dearly for what he did; I promise you that.”
“Thank you,” she said between tears. As he lifted Tyrell onto his shoulder, she asked, “I have to know; who are you?”
“I’m a friend, Ally. That’s all you need to know. Your fiancé is going to be fine; take care of him until help arrives.”
With that, he carried the body past the fence surrounding the electrical transformers across the street, and disappeared. Ally watched him until she couldn’t see him anymore. Looking down at the man she loved, she was thankful for the stranger that stuck his neck out f
or them. In a time where people didn’t go out of their way to help anyone but themselves, this man did.
Chapter 31
Marcus leaned against the brick wall in the alley he’d disappeared into and reflected on what had brought him here. He began his career as a cop in California with the idea of eventually moving to detective. For most of his life, this had been his dream. Working hard to make a name for himself got him recognition and even a few medals when he was still in blues. This and his tenacity is what garnered him favor with the homicide captain that eventually took a chance on him to get out of the squad car and into the investigation side of police work.
Even with the accolades and seeing the realization of his dreams, he scoured at where the path had led him. Gripping the shoulder pads on his backpack, the fabric scratched against his nails. He hated all the lies to his family, but he was stuck in a bad position and needed to do things he didn’t like to keep others safe. What was getting to him now was the waiting. While it was important that he was where he was supposed to be on time, the person he was meeting wasn’t forced under the same constraints.
He looked at the time on his phone, and realized he’d only been standing there for fifteen minutes. Only. Just to give himself something to do, Delgado pulled the backpack off and unzipped the front pouch. He reached in and pulled out a chocolate cake roll. He had a few sugary snacks in the bag that he’d managed to hide from Rita. While he had the bag unzipped, he confirmed for the fifth time that the package he was delivering was also still wrapped up inside.
After putting the bag back on, he unwrapped his snack and was just about to take a bite when he heard a loud clap. He immediately paused and turned his head in the direction of the sound. Swearing just heard a gunshot, he strained to focus and listen for more. Just as he’d suspected, another gunshot echoed from a few blocks northwest of the alley he was in.
Delgado dropped the cake and sprinted in the direction of the gun blasts. Ripping his phone from his pocket as he sprinted, he called 911 to report the gunfire. Next, he made another call to inform the powers that be that he wasn’t going to make the appointment. “I’ll bring it directly to you in a few hours. And this will be the last time you demand I meet you all over the city. We’re square after tonight.” Hanging up, Marcus went to work.
Moments after the guardian angel disappeared, an ambulance arrived and paramedics loaded Keith into the back. They assured Ally that he should pull through just fine, but they were taking him to the nearest hospital for treatment. Before they left, three squad cars pulled up with lights flashing. They detained Ally for her statement while the ambulance pulled away from the curb and rushed Keith to the emergency room.
She listed to the siren growing more distant as she spoke with the police. As they began, Delgado came rushing up and flashed his badge to the officers. “I called in the shots fired,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “What have we got?”
An Officer Gray caught him up on the details they’d received from dispatch and what Ally had told them so far. He walked with the officer back towards the blonde woman talking with the other uniforms when he overheard one of them questioning her.
“Did you say he injected him with something?” asked the officer.
“Yeah. Then he called the ambulance for us and carried the guy off that way,” she said, pointing.
“Then what happened?” Delgado interrupted. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. To her, he appeared like a random guy that just walked up off the street. “Sorry, my name is Detective Marcus Delgado. Can you tell me what happened afterwards?”
“He said the guy was going to pay for what he did to us. After he got past that fence, I couldn’t see him anymore. That’s really all I know. Do you think I can go to the hospital now? I want to be with Keith to make sure he’s ok.”
“Of course, one of the officers will escort you there.” Marcus looked at Officer Gray who instructed one of the other officers to take care of it. After Ally was out of earshot, he continued with Gray.
“This sounds like the vigilante to me. We may be getting another body on our hands if I don’t get to him first. Do me a favor and contact Captain Hawthorne and Detective Saint. Fill them in on what happened and get them down here. I’m going after him.” Pulling a flashlight from one of the squad cars, Marcus ran across the street in pursuit of a killer.
Stepping around a large white metal silo, the biker carrying Tyrell heard an ambulance siren approach. They had arrived faster than he’d anticipated, which meant two things. First, the man that was shot would be getting medical attention, but it also meant that cops wouldn’t be far behind. What he did tonight had been unplanned. It was a right-place-right-time moment, and that meant he was flying by the seat of his pants.
A chill on the night air attempting to subdue the humidity left from the day cooled the beads of sweat on his brow as he carried his unconscious baggage past a pair of metal silos. A conveyor for grains ran over Grand Ave and into a large brick building on the other side of the street. Looking for a place that would be private, he continued to lug the dead weight as he surveyed the surroundings.
Beyond the storage containers, the ground sloped down while Grand Ave went up an incline until it was a bridge over railroad tracks. At the bottom of the hill was an area that was out of public view, and under the cloak of night. It was the best place he was going to find on short notice, so he treaded onward.
He was drenched in sweat when he finally got to the bottom of the hill. The rocky slope caused him to slip more than once and nearly twist his ankle. That would have been a great way to end the night; unable to walk away. Dropping Tyrell to the ground, he landed with a thud as the biker stretched his muscles. The impact caused Tyrell to stir as consciousness pulled at him. As he woke, his captor removed his helmet and cracked his neck. When Tyrell’s eyes fluttered open, he saw the face of his captor.
A white male with dark hair wore a breathing mask that covered his mouth and nose. The wrap was common with bikers to help them breath in high winds as they drove down the highway, but it was also useful in concealing one’s identity. The biker pulled the hood from his leather jacket over his head to further conceal himself. Fully sheathed in the darkness, the undertaker could begin.
Gravel crunched under Delgado’s feet as he walked along a chain-link fence enclosing electrical transformers. He shined the light on the ground a few feet in front of him in between swinging it to each side as he looked for clues. Near the center of the lot, he found a single drop of blood on the ground that was still wet. Marcus immediately shined the light around to find more. He struck gold when he found the second breadcrumb roughly ten feet away. He had a trail to follow.
“Do you understand where we go from here?”
“Yeah, I fucking kill you,” threatened Tyrell from his knees.
“Close,” laughed the man pacing in front of him. “You are correct that someone is going to die tonight, but you’re mistaken on whom that will be. I’d venture a guess that the one that isn’t tied up will be the victor here. Your abhorrent actions towards others won’t go unpunished.”
“A brotha’s gotta get paid, asshole. Besides, it’s fun too,” he grinned.
Tyrell’s head slammed to the side as a fist connected with his jaw. “I’ll ask you to show a little more respect,” said the vigilante. “After all, not caring how you’ve affected those around you is the whole reason you’re in this predicament.”
Tyrell spit blood onto the blacktop as he shifted his weight to get back onto his knees. His captor removed the backpack he wore and placed it on a large boulder nearby. He removed a pair of blue gloves and discarded the riding gloves he’d been wearing. Allowing the nitrile to snap against his skin, he pulled them taunt and continued.
“You’ve had your entire life to choose the man you wanted to become. The decisions you made has brought me here as a sort of…natural-selection process.” Retrieving a yellow bottle from the bag, he aimed it at his riding glov
es sitting on the ground and squirted a liquid onto them. He then lit a match and tossed it onto the ground, which caught the gasoline and the gloves aflame. “No need to leave behind evidence for the authorities.”
“Instead of waiting for God or Mother nature to take care of things..,” he paused, pulling the scalpel out that had already stabbed Tyrell in the arm. “I like to have a more immediate effect on the world.”
Marcus continued his hike through the grounds as he followed the blood. Normally, pursuit of a dangerous criminal without backup was not something he would be doing. But the past week had taken a toll on him. He didn’t like people putting pressure on others. The more he thought about the idea of a vigilante over the past few nights, the more he felt that law should be left to those that enforce it. Those that carried a badge were the law.
Criminals may fear the vigilante more than jail, but that just meant that the police needed to work harder at cleaning the streets. Where do you draw the line on injustice when you allow people to break the law just to make your job easier? No matter how you looked at it, murder was a crime against God and the civilized world. This wasn’t allowed by a nation of laws. Marcus now knew where he stood.
Delgado stopped as he heard distorted voices nearby. He listened for a moment until he had a bearing. They were coming from the direction the blood had been leading him. He found them.
“I think we’ve reached the end of this riveting conversation,” said the vigilante. “It’s time Blood Week comes to a close.”
“Man, fuck you!”