Eviction Notice (7 page)

CHAPTER 11

Alonzo took a
deep breath when he stepped off the train and onto the elevated platform on 125th and Broadway. He hated riding the stuffy trains, especially in the summertime, but, as high as the gas prices had gone in New York, buying a car was a headache he didn’t need.

When he got to the ground level he ducked into the store and grabbed two Dutch Masters and a six-pack before beginning the trek up the hill to his building. He greeted a few heads he knew along the way, but didn’t stop to make small talk. All he wanted to do was blow something down and go to sleep. Since being promoted to assistant manager at the supermarket, his pay had increased, but so had his hours. He had to be one of the first in the store and one of the last to leave. That morning he had clocked in at four
A.M.
to do inventory and still worked a six-hour shift. The long hours were taxing, but it was better than standing on the corner throwing stones at the pen, so he didn’t complain.

The fact that Alonzo had a job still tripped him out, considering the fact that it was the first job he’d had in his life. He had been a career criminal who came from a like-minded family of lawbreakers. His father, uncles, brother, and even his mother had been involved in illegal activities at one time or another, and going to prison was like a rite of passage in their family. Alonzo had been locked up before, but it was on his last trip that he had finally hit the big time: state prison. The things Alonzo had seen and been forced to do in order to survive his stay had changed something in him. Prison had made him take a serious look at the way he was living and he’d started to wonder if any of the bullshit was worth it at the end of the day. When he was released, he vowed that he was done with the street life. Of course no one believed him, and everyone was just waiting for Zo-Pound to resurface, but he never did. Alonzo was often teased by some of his old crime partners about his newfound profession, and though it bothered him he never let it sway him from the path he was on. Being assistant manager at a supermarket wasn’t the most glamorous gig in the world but it was honest work and he didn’t have to worry about police or rival crews trying to force him into early retirement.

As Alonzo neared his building he noticed that the park was especially crowded and there were two police cars parked on the curb. Something must have gone down, which was no surprise because something was always going down in the hood. He thought about simply walking past the police into the lobby, but decided against it because he had weed on him. The police didn’t have a reason to stop him, but the NYPD didn’t need a reason other than his being young and black to hassle him. He was just about to cut through the path and try to enter the building through the back door when he heard his name being called from across the street.

*   *   *

Ashanti sat on
a stoop across the street, on the other side of the El, watching the crowd slowly begin to disperse under the direction of the police. The fight that had broken out in front of 3150 provided a good dose of morning entertainment for the hood. King James had beaten Lamar like an unruly child and he deserved it. Lamar was always around the hood flossing like he was the supreme gangsta when in all actuality he was a pussy. The only reason he fronted like he was tough was because he ran with some cats from Manhattanville who were known to lay their hammer game down. As tickled as Ashanti was watching Lamar get his ass whipped, he was sad when the police took him away because he had planned on robbing Lamar that day. With Lamar in custody and the heavy police presence in the hood because of the fight, all the juxes Ashanti had planned were officially postponed until further notice, which didn’t sit well with him at all.

Since striking out on his own Ashanti had had to learn quite a few different hustles, and so far he seemed to be best at stealing because it was easiest to do by yourself, which he had been since the dismantling of his crew. Animal had been the glue that held them together and after his disappearance things seemed to have fallen apart. Brasco was locked up, again, on a parole violation for pissing dirty, and Nef had gone out and found a job, which was probably best as he had never really had the heart for their lifestyle anyhow. When Nefertiti had gotten a job with UPS, he tried to pull Ashanti in with him, but Ashanti had declined. He was technically still a fugitive so going legit wasn’t an option, and besides that, he had no desire to work a
regular
job. He was married to the streets and divorce wasn’t an option.

Ever since he was a shorty, Ashanti had been in the streets, living by his wits. Ashanti’s mother had been a junkie who sold his sister for drugs and would’ve done the same to him had he not run away from home when he was ten years old. He had been an orphan adopted and nurtured by the hustlers of whichever neighborhoods he called home at the time, and family structure was something alien to him, but that had all changed when he came under the wing of Animal and Brasco. Much like him, they had been abandoned by their families and left to fend for themselves in the cold world. From them he learned the lessons of the game and found the love that he had been starved of all his life. They had been a family until the demons of their pasts had broken them up.

When Animal went down they all took it hard, but none harder than little Ashanti. Animal had been his hero and his savior and the thought of his spending the rest of his life in prison had been too much for the youth to bear. During the trial, Brasco and Nefertiti had to keep Ashanti away from the courthouse, not just because he was a fugitive and would run the risk of being apprehended but because he had gotten it in his young mind that they could bust Animal out of jail like an action movie. Brasco had to literally watch him twenty-four hours per day to keep him from trying to execute his escape plan. Ironically, someone else had beaten Ashanti to the punch and made off with Animal.

“Peace.” The voice snapped Ashanti out of his daze. Reflexively he spun in the direction of the voice with his gun raised, but lowered it when he spotted Lakim. “What the fuck is good with you, sun?” Lakim raised his hands in surrender.

“My fault, big homie.” Ashanti tucked his gun. “You can never be too careful out here.”

“True indeed.” Lakim gave him dap. “What you doing over here looking like you scheming?”

“Ain’t shit, just chilling. I had something I was supposed to do but it’s on hold now because of all the heat on the hood. What’s up with King, he good?”

“Nah, they locked my nigga up for mashing duke out,” Lakim told him.

“Wow, that’s fucked up. What is this world coming to when a nigga gotta spend a night in jail over a fight?”

“Nah, they ain’t gonna keep the god but a few hours, if that. I already got the lawyer on the case so King should be straight. We got too much going on over the next few days to have my nigga laid up.”

“True.” Ashanti nodded. “Yo, I heard through the grapevine that y’all niggaz is having a big-ass party tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, we throwing the god a birthday party, but don’t tell King because it’s supposed to be a surprise.”

Ashanti raised his eyebrow. “Ain’t y’all niggaz too old for surprise parties?”

“You’re never too old for ya peeps to let you know you’re appreciated, youngster.”

“I hear that hot shit.” Ashanti laughed. His eyes zeroed in on a familiar face creeping on the other side of the street. “Ain’t that ya brother over there?”

Lakim squinted. “Yeah, that’s that nigga. Ayo, Zo!” he shouted, waving his hands so Alonzo could see him.

Alonzo hesitated at first but eventually made his way across the street to where Lakim and Ashanti were posted up. “What’s good?”

“You.” Lakim hugged his little brother. “What you doing creeping around like you still putting in work?”

“Trying to get past these dicks so I can go upstairs. They got the front of the building on smash,” Alonzo told him.

“What, you dirty or something?” Ashanti asked.

“Ain’t shit but a few bags of Kush, but it’s enough for them to take me through on they bullshit.”

“Put it in the air and get ya big bro high, my nig,” Lakim said.

“C’mon, son, I know you holding too. Match me,” Alonzo shot back.

“Say no more. Ashanti, why don’t you run in the store and grab a Dutch,” Lakim suggested.

“Why y’all niggaz still treat me like I’m fourteen going to the store for y’all?” Ashanti scoffed.

“Ain’t nobody treating you like nothing, God. I know you wanna smoke and you probably ain’t got no weed, so make that happen so we can burn,” Lakim told him.

“A’ight, but I ain’t rolling,” Ashanti said before getting off the stoop and going next door to the bodega. Ashanti came out of the store and tossed the Dutch to Lakim. “Where we gonna blow at, because I sure as hell ain’t trying to smoke out here with all this
bacon
around.”

“My whip is parked around the corner. We can blow it down in there.” Lakim led them around the corner to where his black-on-black Durango was parked. He hit automatic locks and climbed behind the wheel while Alonzo got in on the passenger side and Ashanti climbed in back.

“This shit is hard,” Ashanti said, admiring the black leather seats.

Lakim shrugged. “It’s a’ight. Give us another year and watch how me and my niggaz gonna be rolling.”

“Yo, remember when you had the money-green Range on twenties?” Alonzo reminded Lakim as he sealed the ends of the blunt he was rolling.

“You mean the one you crashed.” Lakim elbowed him playfully. “Zo-Pound, if you wasn’t my li’l brother I would’ve killed you behind that shit.”

Ashanti looked at Alonzo quizzically. “Zo-Pound?”

“Yeah, that’s what they used to call me back in the days,” Alonzo told him.

“I used to hear Animal and them talking about a kid named Zo-Pound who was doing his thing in the BX , but this kid was supposed to be a certified beast.”

“Yeah, that was a long time ago.” Alonzo’s eyes took on a far-off look.

“Get the fuck outta here,” Ashanti said in disbelief. “I can’t see your box-stacking ass out here getting it in the trap.”

“That goes to show how green your li’l ass still is to this game. Before my brother squared up he was out here laying shit down left and right,” Lakim informed him.

Ashanti looked shocked. “Damn, kid, if you was out here getting it like that, what made you square up?”

“Prison,” Alonzo said seriously. “I was getting bread out here on the streets but the bullshit I had to deal with wasn’t worth running the risk of spending the rest of my life in a cage. There comes a point in every man’s life when he looks back on the things he’s done and looks ahead to the things he will do and asks himself it it’s worth it. For me it wasn’t, so I hung up my guns.”

“Shit, I ain’t never gonna put my gun down.” Ashanti patted his waistband. “The only thing that’s gonna separate me from my hammer is death!”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Alonzo told him.

Lakim sensed that Alonzo was about to start preaching to Ashanti so he changed the subject. “Yo, Zo, what you getting into tonight?”

“My fucking bed, I’m tired as hell.”

“Why don’t you roll with us to Jersey?”

“What the fuck is going on in Jersey?” Alonzo asked suspiciously, fumbling with the radio dial.

“They got this li’l strip joint out there that we wanna hit up,” Lakim said, as if it were as simple as that.

Alonzo looked at him. “La, y’all don’t even do strip clubs in New York like that, so why would you wanna roll all the way to Jersey to hit one?”

“Sun, stop being so paranoid. We gonna go out and have some drinks and look at some ass. Besides, me and King got some business to handle.”

Alonzo sighed. “Come on, La, you know I ain’t trying to get caught up in no street shit.”

“Li’l bro, I know you on ya square shit so I wouldn’t even do you like that. I just thought that you might wanna come out and have a good time with us. Sun, you go from work to home every day and never have any fun, that shit ain’t healthy for a young man of your age,” Lakim teased him.

“Fuck you.” Alonzo laughed.

“Yo, turn that up,” Ashanti said excitedly from the backseat as a familiar tune came on the radio. Alonzo turned the volume up and Animal’s familiar voice came through the speakers.

“Who that?” Lakim asked.

“That’s my nigga Animal,” Ashanti said proudly.

“Damn, I ain’t know he was nice like that.” Alonzo bobbed to the beat. “That shit was crazy how he just vanished.”

“Word on some Harry Houdini shit,” Lakim added.

“I heard Rico sent his peoples to snatch him up and murdered him over them cats he killed,” Alonzo said.

“I doubt that,” Ashanti said, recalling the look on Rico’s face before he had shot him outside the church.

“Niggaz like Animal don’t die that easy. Sun is probably on some Tupac shit and hiding out in Cuba,” Lakim suggested.

“Lakim, you sound crazy right now. Dude’s face was way too known for him to be hiding somewhere. If the police or the feds ain’t got him yet, then he’s gotta be dead.”

“The feds ain’t God. Assata Shakur outwitted them so why couldn’t Animal?” Lakim turned to Ashanti. “You knew him better than anybody, what do you think?”

Ashanti took a deep pull off the blunt and thought about it for a minute. “Honestly I don’t know, but I can’t accept the fact that he’s dead.” Most, including Brasco and Nefertiti, had written Animal off after his disappearance, but not Ashanti. Part of what had kept him going throughout the years since Animal’s disappearance was his hope that one day they would be reunited and the team would be back better than ever. It was a stretch, but it was all he had.

Part II

LOVE AND WAR

CHAPTER 12

Old San Juan, Puerto Rico

In the light
of day, Old San Juan looked almost serene with its borders of clear blue water, sprawling green hills, and historic architecture. Tourists moved about freely, going in and out of the shops that lined the street and taking pictures near various landmarks, oblivious to the blood spilled on the cobblestoned streets on a nightly basis. Among the tourists and locals, the shadow of death moved silently, lost in his thoughts of yesterday and tomorrow.

In what seemed like another lifetime he had been called Animal, a baby-faced killer who had gone from a thug to a superstar to a wanted man both by the police and by his enemies. When his sins had finally caught up with him in the form of the police, Animal secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Not because he was in a rush to be carted off to prison for the rest of his life, but because he could finally stop running—running from his past and the demons that haunted him every day of his life. Animal was ready to repent and accept responsibility for the things he had done, but fate had another plan.

They came for him in broad daylight, armed assassins who descended on his police escort like dark angels armed with assault rifles, who had no fear of death or the law. At first glance Animal had thought them to be his enemies who had come to settle up for the lives he had taken throughout his underworld career, but he soon learned different. Lying in a pool of blood and glass, Animal looked up into the green eyes of his abductor and knew the truth: they were not angels but demons who had been sent by the devil himself, K-Dawg.

At the turn of the century, K-Dawg and Animal’s brother Justice were leaders of a crew called the Road Dawgz, which had conquered the streets of Harlem. Their run was short yet memorable, and under the rule of the Road Dawgz New York had become the murder capital. K-Dawg’s tyrannical reign had forced the city officials into action and they closed in on the Road Dawgz. Justice was carted off to prison, but K-Dawg didn’t go so quietly. K-Dawg’s last stand had made headlines in every major newspaper and been broadcast on every news channel as he held court in the streets. The battle had wiped out not only the rest of the Road Dawgz but an entire city block when K-Dawg blew up their headquarters, killing more than fifty people, including himself, or so everyone thought. The fact that Animal was now a free man wandering the streets of Puerto Rico proved something that most speculated but would not say out loud: you could not kill the devil.

Animal was both shocked and unnerved by K-Dawg’s appearance. Like everyone else, he had assumed that K-Dawg had died in the explosion, but his bold rescue was proof that he hadn’t. Since his abduction Animal hadn’t seen much of K-Dawg, but the kid he’d left to watch over him, Chris, was cool as hell. He did all that they could to make sure Animal felt more like a guest than a prisoner, but even he wouldn’t elaborate on K-Dawg’s plans. Animal would remain in the dark until they reached a small airstrip in North Carolina, where K-Dawg had chartered a plane to whisk them to Puerto Rico, and Justice was there to greet him.

Animal was overcome with emotions and questions when he saw his brother again after so many years. After his stint with the Road Dawgz, and a short stretch up north, Justice had gone into semiretirement, but ended up catching a body and going right back to prison. It was a self-defense killing, as the victim had been trying to rob Justice and his girl, but a paid informant testified to hearing Justice planning the murder. With the word of the snitch and Justice’s reputation as one of the alleged leaders of the Road Dawgz crew, the judge wasted no time in throwing the book at Justice. He was given the long walk, and locked away never to be seen again, but, as with Animal, K-Dawg had intervened and changed his fate.

It was on the plane that Animal learned of the devil’s bargain he had unknowingly struck in exchange for his freedom. K-Dawg had gone from hood politics to covert operations, and from the looks of things he was excelling at it. Unlike most, K-Dawg had learned from his mistakes and restructured his operation accordingly. He had assembled a team of wayward souls and molded them into his vision of the chosen army, deadly, merciless, and loyal to none but him. The name Los Negros Muertes was whispered throughout the urban ghettos of the Caribbean as the real power behind several political parties. Justice tried to assuage Animal’s apprehensiveness by making it seem like what K-Dawg was doing was done out of love, but Animal knew better. For men like K-Dawg, love was an alien thing, and all that mattered was power. The members of Los Negros Muertes were little more than pawns in K-Dawg’s game and Animal didn’t plan on sticking around for the final move.

“Hey, mister,” a voice called, snapping Animal out of his thoughts. His body immediately tensed in anticipation of combat, but eased when he saw the short and thin Hispanic boy approaching him. “Can I get you to buy some of my jewelry to help me and my family get a hot meal for the night?” The boy held up his arm to show Animal some of the rinky-dink jewelry dangling from it. Most of it was slum, but there was a silver rosary that caught Animal’s eye.

“How much for that?” Animal pointed at the rosary.

“An excellent choice.” The boy untangled the rosary and placed it in Animal’s hand. “Handcrafted and made from sterling silver. This piece goes all the way back to the year—”

“I didn’t ask you all that. I just want to know how much?” Animal cut him off.

The boy thought on it for a minute. “For you, amigo, two hundred dollars.”

Animal laughed. “Li’l fella, if you’re looking to rob me you could’ve at least brought a gun with you. That old piece of junk don’t look to be worth much, especially not the ransom you’re trying to charge for it.”

“Junk?” The youth frowned. “Sir, this rosary was a gift to Nicolas de Ovando himself on the day of his baptism and has been handed down through his family for years. It’s not only an heirloom but a piece of Old San Juan’s history.”

Animal examined the piece a little more closely. Though the silver was dull and stained, you could see the detailed craftsmanship that had gone into making it. “If it’s such a valued treasure, how did your li’l ass come by it?”

The boy thought on it for a minute before answering. “How it came to me isn’t important, my friend. What is important is that I am willing to part with it for the sake of making sure my family doesn’t go hungry tonight.” The boy’s voice was quite sincere, but Animal saw the larceny in his eyes.

“I’ll tell you what,” Animal pulled out a knot of money and peeled off one hundred dollars, “I’ll give you fifty dollars for the rosary and fifty dollars for your hustle. If that ain’t enough, you might as well take it down the street and try to beat one of these crackers outta their bread, because I ain’t going no higher.” Animal extended the hundred dollars to the boy. The boy hesitated, but when Animal went to put the money back in his pocket, the boy quickly snatched it from him.

“Sir, it pains me to part with this treasure for so little money but it would pain me more to watch my little brother and sister go hungry for the night.” The boy stuffed the money into his pocket.

“You are wise beyond your years.” Animal smiled down at him while slipping the rosary around his neck over the gold link chain he was already wearing. There was something calming about the rosary lying across his chest.

“Looks good on you, sir.” The boy nodded in approval.

“Yeah, it does look good on you.” An older kid came out of the cut. He was flanked by two rough-looking dudes. “Since you’re feeling like giving back to the poor kids in Puerto Rico, how about you kick something down to us?”

Animal stepped between the kid he’d bought the rosary from and the thugs. “Get out of here, kid,” Animal said over his shoulder. The boy wasted no time in getting away from the confrontation. Animal now focused on the thugs. “The three of you look able enough, you ever thought about getting jobs instead?”

“Oh, you’re a comedian, huh?” the second boy said in a thick accent. His sneer showed off the missing teeth behind his dry lips.

“Nah, funny would be us having to explain to the
policia
why we threw down in the middle of a busy street in broad daylight,” Animal said coolly. “Come on, fellas, we ain’t gotta do it like this.”

The first boy pulled a knife from his pants and brandished it. “You’re right, so why don’t you hand over the chains and whatever money you’re carrying and you can go on your way without getting carved up.”

Animal let out a deep sigh, as he already knew how he would answer. “I think we both know that I can’t do that, so I guess it’s gonna be what it’s gonna be, huh?”

By the time the third boy who had been standing with the group tried to blindside Animal, he was already in motion. He dodged the awkward punch and folded him with a hook to the back of the head. The boy was out before he hit the ground. Animal had just managed to draw his pistol from his waist when one of the boys brought a pipe cracking down across his wrist and sent the gun flying. Animal tried to make for the gun when he was bull-rushed by a boy wielding a knife. The boy was good, but Animal was more skilled. When he lunged with the knife, Animal sidestepped it, but not before the blade had cut through his shirt and opened up his side.

Animal locked the boy’s arms under, immobilizing him and leaving him at Animal’s mercy. “It’s been a while since a nigga made me bleed, but allow me to give you a lesson in suffering.” Animal wrenched the boy’s arm upward, breaking it at the elbow and causing him to release the knife. Animal caught the blade before it hit the ground and dragged it across his throat. The boy’s eyes widened in terror right before blood began to spill from his mouth and throat. Animal tossed him to the ground to bleed out and turned his attention to his last opponent. “What you waiting for, homie?”

The remaining thug croaked out something in Spanish, and the next thing Animal knew, more thugs were coming out of the woodwork and he found himself backed into a corner. They were at least a half-dozen deep and armed. It was about to pop off.

He had been warned:
keep a low profile and avoid causing scenes
. These were the words K-Dawg and Justice had drilled into Animal when he was first introduced to his new life, but their words were drowned out now by the demon whispering in his head that it had been too long since he had fed his cravings. Being confined to boundaries set by K-Dawg was making him feel closed off from his true nature and he needed a release. The thugs had come along looking for a victim, but what they had found was an animal.

“This is your last chance to leave with your dignities and your lives,” Animal snarled at the thugs. He tossed the knife from one hand to the other and back again, testing the weight and getting a feel for the weapon.

“We’re gonna fuck you up now, bro,” the thug who had hit him with the pipe threatened.

Animal nodded. “So be it.” He moved with more speed than any of them had expected, swinging the knife in a complex pattern, causing the thugs to backpedal. One of the thugs felt himself and tried to step in the square with Animal, waving a box cutter. Animal faked high and went low, opening the kid’s belly with the knife. When he stooped over to try to stop his guts from spilling into the street, Animal drove the knife into the base of his skull, severing his spine and taking him out of the equation. Another kid swung a bat at Animal’s head and ended up connecting with air because Animal was already standing behind him with a fistful of his T-shirt. Animal shoved him into the crowd and bolted for the street.

Animal dodged through the busy marketplace with the thugs hot on his heels. Had he known his little shopping trip would turn into a mad dash for his life, he probably would’ve stayed at the house. He laughed as he thought about how he managed to end up fleeing for his life no matter what country he was in. A shot whisking past his ear from one of the thugs wiped the smile off his face and brought him back to the reality of what he was dealing with. One of the thugs managed to close the distance and get close enough to grab the back of Animal’s shirt. Without breaking his stride, he spun around and cut the thug across his face, which would require almost fifty stitches when he finally got around to getting it treated.

Animal had managed to put some distance between himself and the thugs chasing him, but his pack-per-day cigarette habit was catching up with him. He tripped over a fruit basket, which allowed the thugs to get close enough to try to grab for him again, but fate intervened when a flower cart was pushed out into the street and tripped the thugs up. The boy who had sold Animal the rosary gave him the thumbs-up and motioned for him to keep going. As Animal’s lungs began to heave he tired of the game and decided to put an end to it. He came across an alley a few blocks down and ducked into it, determined to bring the chase to a close.

The thug who had hit Animal with the pipe was the first to arrive at the mouth of the alley, with the rest of his mob joining him a few seconds after. He couldn’t see much, but he heard Animal moving in the darkness. “Let me get the hammer,” he said over his shoulder. After a short conversation about who was armed, he was handed a gun and led his party into the alley. It was so quiet that all he could hear was his heart pounding in his ears. A can rattled somewhere to his left, causing him to fire two blind shots into the darkness. A frightened alley cat darted past him and into the street. When the thug turned his attention back to the hunt, something whistled past his ear, followed by a warm splatter on his face. When he touched his hand to his cheek, it came away slick with blood. He initially thought it was his blood until he saw one of his comrades fall to the floor.

“You wanna play, muthafucka, then let’s play.” The thug fired blindly into the shadows.

“I sure hope you’re keeping track of them shells you’re wasting,” Animal taunted.

“You stick your ugly face out here and I’ll show you just how many bullets are left in this gun!” the thug shouted. He could no longer hide the fear in his voice. There was a scuttling of feet somewhere to his rear. The thug turned in time to see one of his boys swept away by the darkness. There was a bloodcurdling scream and the boy spilled out and collapsed at the thug’s feet. His neck was cut from ear to ear. Most of the group hightailed it out of the alley, leaving just the thug and one of his partners, who was too frightened to run.