Animal 2 Page 20

  “Not bad for an old man, huh?” Priest taunted.

  Instead of feeding into it, Animal swept Priest’s legs out from under him. He tried to roll on top of Priest, but Priest braced his knees against Animal’s chest and pushed, sending him flying across the room and landing in a row of folding chairs.

  By the time Animal got back to his feet, Priest was already on him. He caught Animal in the chin with a right, then came back with his left. Animal waited until the last possible second to lift one of the metal folding chairs like a shield and blocked the punch. He followed with an overhand swing of the chair, which Priest blocked with his arms, but the force still knocked him backward.

  “So you wanna fight dirty?” Priest asked, pulling his rosary from his sleeve. He began twirling the chain like a helicopter blade, advancing on Animal.

  Animal tried to protect himself with the chair, which Priest had expected. He whipped the rosary around the chair leg and pulled, yanking it from Animal’s hands. Moving in a fluid motion, Priest faked like he was going right and went left, slamming his fist into Animal’s face. He tried to wrap the rosary around Animal’s neck, but Animal put his fingers between the chain and his throat. In his ear, he could hear Priest wheezing.

  “I know you’re not getting tired, old man,” Animal taunted him.

  “On the contrary, I’m just getting warmed up.” Priest kneed Animal in the back, stunning him while he locked the rosary around his neck. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you, but I am gonna put my baby boy down for a nap.” He pulled the rosary tighter.

  Animal clutched at the chain but couldn’t get a grip. As it bit into his neck, he could feel his airway closing off. In the corners of his eyes, Animal began to see spots. He was losing consciousness. In desperation, Animal let all his weight fall, pulling Priest down with him. Priest’s chin made contact with the top of Animal’s skull and rattled his teeth. Priest released the rosary and fell backward, dazed.

  Animal crawled to his feet, pulling the rosary from around his neck. Breathing like he’d just run a marathon, he stalked over to Priest. “Like you said, people need discipline, ain’t that right, Daddy?” He brought the rosary down across Priest’s back. “You like that? Are you focused?” He whipped the rosary across Priest’s back over and over. He tried to tell himself he was beating Priest for what he had done to Kahllah, but in reality, he was letting out all the years of pent-up rage and resentment.

  Priest managed to make it off the floor and grabbed Animal in a bear hug.

  “Get the fuck off me!” Animal raged, trying his best to break loose, but Priest was far stronger than he looked.

  “That’s right, let it all out, son.” Priest squeezed him tighter. Animal had his face buried in Priest’s chest so he couldn’t see the tears falling, but Priest could feel his body racked with sobs “Let it all out.”

  “I fucking hate you for what you did to us,” Animal said in a defeated tone.

  “I know, Tayshawn . . . I know.” Priest continued to hold him. “I hate me for it, too.”

  “What the hell is going on out here?” Kahllah entered the room. Gucci came downstairs a few seconds later. Both women stared at the hugging men, confused about what was going on.

  “Nothing, just blowing off a little steam.” Priest released Animal.

  “Are you OK?” Gucci rushed to Animal’s side.

  “It’s like he said, we were just blowing off a little steam,” Animal said. He refused to look her in the eye for fear that she would know that he had been crying.

  Kahllah looked from Animal to Priest and immediately knew what had taken place. They had let go of their demons. “Must men always show their emotions like Neanderthals?”

  “Talking like adults would be too much like the right thing,” Gucci said, chiming in.

  “Well, if the two of you are done trying to kill each other, I suggest we all get some sleep. The sun will be up in a few hours, and we’ve got a lot to do.”

  “Kahllah is right,” Priest agreed.

  “I believe this belongs to you.” Animal handed Priest the rosary.

  Priest looked at the length of gold chain. “I’ve used this for a great many things over the years but never to administer an ass-whipping.” He laughed. His laughter died when he saw the small red speck on Animal’s shirt. At first, he thought it was blood, but then he realized that blood didn’t glow. “Down.” He lunged at his son just as the first bullet shattered the window.

  TWENTY-SIX

  AT SOME POINT, THE MAN who was watching the church must’ve nodded off. He was startled awake by a firm knock on the window of his car. He jumped, gun in hand and ready to shoot, but lowered it when he saw who was standing outside the car. He was husky, wearing all black and a permanent scowl on his face.

  A broad smile spread across the watcher’s face as he rolled the window down. “Damn, you can get shot creeping on niggaz like that.”

  “And you can die for sleeping when you’re supposed to be on point, Steve,” the man in all black said.

  “I wasn’t asleep, I was resting my eyes,” Steve lied.

  “Whatever.” The man in black waved him off. “They still in there?”

  “Yeah, but the cat we looking for is still there. He’s not alone, though. How many cats you bring down with you?” Steve asked.

  “Enough.” The man in black nodded behind him.

  Steve looked in the rearview and saw the headlights of at least three cars. “That’s what I’m talking about.” He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “So what’s the game plan?”

  “Go in there and lay everybody who ain’t with us.” The man dressed in black held up the SPAS-12 combat shotgun he was carrying.

  “Damn, you ain’t playing, are you?” Steve marveled at the gun.

  “Touch one of mine, I touch all of yours,” the man in black said. He pulled the slide on the SPAS-12 and chambered a round. “Let’s go gobble these niggaz the fuck up. This is for my old man.”

  • • •

  Animal was dazed from the knock he’d taken on his head when Priest tackled him, but he wasn’t so out of it that he didn’t recognize the sounds of gunfire. Bullets seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, shredding everything they hit. His thoughts immediately went to Gucci, and he looked around the church frantically. He didn’t see her on the first sweep, but then he spotted her cowering in the doorway that led to the upstairs apartment. Her terrified eyes looked to him, and he gave her the signal to stay put. Animal looked around for Kahllah, but there was no sign of her. She had abandoned them. After all the game she talked about loyalty, she left them for dead when the shit hit the fan.

  “Fucking mercenary,” Animal cursed to himself. A few feet away from him lay Priest. He wasn’t moving, and there was blood around his body. “Priest,” Animal called out, crawling across the floor toward him. Bullets whizzed over his head, raining glass and wood splinters on him. “God, no.” He turned Priest over, expecting the worst. When he saw his father’s robes covered in blood, Animal just knew it was over for him, until the one-eyed man looked up and smiled.

  “I thought you didn’t believe in God.”

  “I never said I don’t believe in him, I just said he doesn’t listen to me . . . at least, he hadn’t until today.” Animal lifted him into a sitting position. “You OK?”

  “I’m fine. I think it went straight through.” Priest gently touched the wound near his abdomen, just above his hip.

  “Damn, I can’t believe you took a bullet for me,” Animal said in disbelief.

  “Don’t be so quick to praise me, because had I remembered how much being shot hurts, I would’ve stayed where I was and let you take it. Don’t say your old man has never done anything for you. Who the hell is shooting up the house of the Lord?”

  “Beats me. I thought they were your friends,” Animal said.

  There was the thunderous roar of a very big gun at the front of the church, and less than a second later, the front doors bu
rst off the hinges.

  “Lucy, I’m home,” the man in all black sang. Out of the shadows of schemes and into the light of action, you could get a better look at him. He was average height, with brown skin and a build that had been gained from multiple stints in various state prisons. A crisscross of scars that had grown into thick keloids marred the left side of his face and neck. Cradled in one of his well-built arms was the smoking SPAS-12.

  “Who the in the hell are you, and what do are you doing here?” Priest called to the gunman.

  “You stood before God and my family to be named my godfather, and now you don’t know me? Shame on you.” The man in black let off another slug from the SPAS-12, knocking the back off one of the church benches.

  “Chuck?” Priest asked in surprise.

  “I see lead showers work wonders at jogging memories.” Chuck fired the shotgun again, taking out the podium at the front of the church. “You were my father’s friend, and you shot him like a dog in the woods, so I’ve come to return the favor.”

  “Chuck, it broke my heart to kill your dad, but I had to. Charlie fucked up big-time. He knew the rules. Put the gun down, and let’s talk about this!” Priest shouted.

  “Sure, I’ll put the gun down . . . down your fucking throat before I blow your spleen out through your asshole!” Chuck fired several more rounds.

  Animal and Priest huddled together near the side of the stage. “I gotta get to my guns.” Animal looked over at his harness and Pretty Bitches, which were still on the floor where he’d left them. He popped up to try to make a mad dash, but a round from the SPAS-12 sent him scrambling back into his hiding spot, alongside his father. “Shit, all this time you’ve been worrying about the people I was pissing off, and it’s your bullshit that’s gonna get us splattered.”

  “Not on my watch.” Priest slammed his elbow into the side of the stage floor, breaking the old wood open. He fished around inside and pulled out an old-looking rifle. “And definitely not in my house.”

  “Does that prehistoric piece of shit even work?” Animal asked, looking at the rifle. It was dusty and probably hadn’t been fired in years.

  Priest pulled the lever on the side and chambered a round. “This old girl ain’t failed me yet. When I move, you move.” He struggled to his feet. “You’ve spoken your piece,” he told Chuck, “and now I will speak mine.” He pulled the trigger, and the rifle kicked to life.

  While there was a break in the action, Animal scrambled across the floor and snatched up his guns. He had just cleared them from the harness when a swarm of men dressed in black entered the church. Animal pressed his back to the bench and held his two guns to his chest. After the shootout with the police, he didn’t have many rounds left, so he had to make every shot count. The moment the first of Chuck’s men came into view, Animal made his move.

  “What’s popping, slime?” Animal sprang from his hiding place, firing with both guns. The slugs made his target dance, before putting him on his back.

  “Kill everything moving!” Chuck roared. His men surged forward, firing their weapons.

  Animal darted across the church, banging his hammers, hitting flesh and wood. Priest covered him, licking shots from the rifle. To their credit, Chuck’s men had no fear of death, which suited the father and son, because they were skilled at issuing death. The screams of the dying men filled Animal’s ears like the sounds of sweet music, and the high-powered slugs from the Pretty Bitches ripped them to pieces. He was giving as good as he got, but there were more of them than he had bullets. He had just laid another of Chuck’s men when the unthinkable happened. His guns clicked empty.

  “Get back, I got this.” Priest limped across the floor toward where Animal was pinned down, firing the rifle. Bullets whipped by, threatening to finish Priest, but he kept shooting as if he didn’t even notice. When the old rifle was finally spent, Chuck’s men surged forward and tried to overtake Priest. The older man flipped the rifle around, using it like a baseball bat, and started swinging. He got a few good licks off, but in his injured condition, he was no match physically for the younger men. They tackled Priest to the floor and began kicking and beating him. There was a flash of steel as one of them pulled a knife.

  “Don’t you dare kill him. That muthafucka belongs to me!” Chuck shouted, pushing his way through the crowd of men. Priest’s life belonged to him, and he would not be cheated out of his revenge.

  From behind Animal, there was the sound of a door being kicked open. He turned in time to see Kahllah emerge, wearing black body armor over her T-shirt. Clutched in her hands were two Mac-11s. “Demons.” She addressed Chuck and his men. “Let the vengeful fire of my Lord wash your evil from this holy place and cast thee back to the foul pits from which you crawled!” She howled and let both guns rip.

  Animal watched in wide-eyed shock as Kahllah danced through the aisle, spinning like a ballerina across a stage, firing the machine guns and cutting down her targets. Death was an art form, and she was truly a master at her craft. Two of Chuck’s men, who had been hiding in the aisle, got the drop on Kahllah. They overpowered her, knocking one of the machine guns loose and trying to pry the other one from her hands. Animal tried to pick the Mac up off the floor, but another blast from the SPAS-12 knocked it out of reach. He watched helplessly as Kahllah tried to fight off the two men and the rest rushed the front of the church.

  Animal watched the scene unfolding like a horror-movie reel. Priest disappeared beneath a sea of black-clad soldiers, all with plans on ending his life. Kahllah was putting up the good fight, but there was only so long she could keep it up. When Animal looked to Gucci, his heart sank. He had never seen her look more terrified. When their eyes met, something unspoken passed between them. Their journey was reaching its end, and they would not be riding off into the sunset. The sacrifices they’d made to be together had all been for nothing.

  “Get busy living or get busy dying,” Animal said, quoting one of his favorite movies, The Shawshank Redemption, before leaping into the fray, fists flailing. He got off two good punches before he was overrun. Animal covered his face and head as best he could, as Chuck’s men kicked and stomped him in every exposed part of his body.

  Steve pushed through the crowd of men who were working Animal over. They parted like the Red Sea for Chuck’s second in command. “Hold him down,” he ordered. The men pinned Animal’s arms and legs to the ground. He looked up at Steve defiantly as he hovered over him, holding a gun. “Chuck said Priest’s life was his to take, but he didn’t say nothing about you, pretty boy.” He grabbed a fistful of Animal’s hair and pressed the barrel of the gun to his lips. “Any last words?”

  “Fuck you,” Animal spit at Steve.

  “You bitch-ass nigga.” Steve shoved the gun roughly into Animal’s mouth and down his throat, causing him to gag. “I’m about to give you a real messy tonsillectomy.”

  Animal looked up at Steve through glassy eyes. He saw his lips moving but couldn’t make out the words. He didn’t have to hear what he was saying to know what he intended. Steve’s finger cocking the hammer back on the gun told that story. Animal let his thoughts drift, trying to escape to a happier place in his head. In his mind, he could hear his mother’s voice saying to him, “You ain’t gonna be like your daddy. These streets ain’t gonna claim you.” Once again, she had been wrong.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  “GET YOUR HANDS OFF HIM,” a voice called from somewhere behind the mob. Steve looked up and saw Gucci holding the Mac that Kahllah had lost. Her face was unsure, and her hands trembled.

  Steve released Animal and calmly started walking toward Gucci. “Shorty, you too pretty to be a killer. Why don’t you put that gun down and knock it off?”

  “Only thing that’s gonna get knocked off is your head if you don’t tell your boys to get off my man,” Gucci warned him. She tried to sound tough, but her voice was shaky.

  “OK, let’s make a deal. You put the gun down, and I won’t let these thirsty niggaz gang-rape you wh
en we’re done killing your boyfriend,” Steve said with a smirk.

  “Don’t make me do it to you,” Gucci pleaded.

  “You ain’t ’bout to do shit.” Steve lunged at the same time as Gucci pulled the trigger. The Mac tore a line up through Steve’s chest and knocked half of his face off.

  Closing her eyes, Gucci depressed the trigger of the Mac, sweeping it back and forth. Chuck’s men retreated toward the back of the church, trying to find shelter from the rain of bullets. The screams of Chuck’s men as they fell to the bullets were terrifying, but what was more terrifying was the prospect of dying, so Gucci kept firing until there was nothing left in the clip.

  Cautiously, Animal approached Gucci. She was trembling, still pulling the trigger of the empty gun. “It’s OK.” Animal plucked the gun from her hands. “It’s over now.” He embraced her. As Gucci sobbed into his chest, Animal surveyed the carnage she had caused. Looking at the dead bodies on the ground, he knew that Gucci’s soul was now stained, too. It would take her a long time, if ever, to recover from it, but he would be there to help her through it. They would heal together.

  Kahllah joined them, sweating, bruised, and holding the remaining Mac. Gucci looked up at her over Animal’s shoulder, and Kahllah gave her an approving smile. “A woman of her word,” she said, recalling Gucci’s earlier statement.

  Animal looked over his shoulder at Kahllah. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing, simply that any doubts I had in my mind about her love for you being genuine have been removed,” Kahllah said, and went to root out the last of the invaders.

  • • •

  Chuck stood in the middle of the aisle, watching as his remaining men retreated. “Where the fuck are y’all going? This shit ain’t over,” he barked at them, but his commands went ignored. “Fuck y’all cowards, I’ll finish this myself.” He hoisted the SPAS-12 and pointed it at Animal and Gucci. When he pulled the trigger, nothing came out.