Eviction Notice (8 page)

“You smell that? That’s fear, baby boy, sweeter than any drug you can image.” Animal cackled.

The thug was now so nervous that his palms were sweating and it became a task just to hold the gun. Something flew at him from the darkness and he fired four times before he realized it was a trash-can lid he’d just mangled. He was so focused on the trash-can lid that he didn’t notice Animal standing behind him until he heard his remaining comrade scream. He turned just in time to see Animal gut the frightened young boy like a fish. The thug raised his gun and pulled the trigger, but it clicked empty.

“I told you to keep track of those shells.” Animal stalked toward the thug with blood dripping from the knife. The thug was so afraid that he was still holding his gun as if it could save him. Animal smacked the gun away and grabbed him by the throat, pinning him against the wall. He pressed the blade against the thug’s cheek and traced a pattern. “You ready to stand before your maker and be judged?”

“Please don’t,” the thug blabbered.

Animal frowned in disappointment. “Mercy is for God-fearing folks.” He leaned in and whispered into the thug’s ear, “I fear nothing.” Animal had just pierced the tender skin of the thug’s throat when he heard a voice behind him.

“For as much as I love a good bloodbath, I think there’s been enough killing done for one day.”

CHAPTER 13

She was an
exotic bronze beauty with eyes the color of mercury and hair that resembled sunset. The cut-off fatigue shorts and black tank top she wore clung to her shapely figure like a second skin. She licked her lips playfully, but the AK cradled in her arms said that she was all business. Watching her back was a tall dark-skinned cat with hawklike features. Though his guns weren’t visible, there was no doubt that he was armed.

“This is no business of yours,” Animal said through clenched teeth.

“It becomes my business when bodies line my father’s streets.” She slung the machine gun over her shoulder and strode into the alley. She made sure to keep a safe distance from Animal, who was still watching her intensely. “Do you know who I am?” she asked the thug Animal had snatched up.

The boy cut his eyes at Animal for permission to speak. When Animal eased his grip, he took it as a yes. “Of course … who doesn’t know Red Sonja?” he croaked.

“Then you know it was foolish of you to attack one of our guests.”

Realizing how deep in the shit he had stepped, the thug began to tremble. “Sonja, on my mother’s eyes I didn’t know he was with you guys. We were just trying to roll him for a few dollars,” he groveled.

“From all of your homeboys stretched out up and down this alley, I’m guessing it didn’t work out too well for you, huh?” Sonja closed the last of the distance between them. “Amigo, I may be able to convince my friend to let you live, but I need to know that this isn’t going to turn into a bigger problem in the future.”

“No problems, no problems,” the thug assured her.

Sonja slowly and cautiously placed a hand on Animal’s shoulder. She felt him tense, but eventually he loosened up under her touch. She leaned in close enough for her lips to brush his neck when she whispered, “Poppy, the streets of Old San Juan see how you give it up and the word will be spread. There’s nothing left to prove here.”

“This pussy tried to take my life, the scales gotta balance out,” Animal told her, pressing the knife into the thug’s throat again.

“And you have killed at least three of his, from what I can see. Too many bodies in the street lead to too many questions and I think we both know you don’t need that right now.” She slowly began pulling Animal away. “No more bloodshed today.”

Slowly, Animal eased back to the point where he was holding the thug at arm’s reach and glaring at him like a hungry tiger. The beast lurking inside Animal cried for more death, and though Sonja’s touch was soothing enough to bring about reason, there still needed to be compensation. “Your life is yours for today,” Animal told the thug, “but you will be forever reminded of my passing.” Animal dragged the knife down the thug’s cheek, opening him up.

*   *   *

At the west
end of the island was the Fort San Felipe del Morro. It had originally been built to protect San Juan Bay and the city of Old San Juan from seaborne invaders but had long ago become more of a tourist attraction than an actual military base. People visiting Old San Juan would occasionally venture out to see the fort and its lighthouse, but with the rash of violence that had broken out in and around the village, few dared to venture out that far, which is why K-Dawg chose to make his base in the shadow of the ruined fort.

It was a large farmhouse with a few head of cattle that sat in the middle of nowhere so as to maintain his privacy, not that anyone would be foolish enough to breach the fence that encircled all ten acres of the farm. Vicious guard dogs, bred and raised by K-Dawg, roamed the grounds and would kill without hesitation to protect their master’s keep. K-Dawg had many secret hiding places like it, but the farmhouse was special to him because it had been his first real purchase when he was getting money in New York. While most of his comrades spent their money on guns and whores, K-Dawg had been planning for his future.

The farmhouse was safe haven to all members of Los Negros Muertes, but only those closest to K-Dawg actually lived there. When Animal had first arrived in Puerto Rico he’d been offered a place of honor in the farmhouse, but he had declined, opting to make his home in a smaller structure that sat a few yards off from the main house. The small building was said to have once been slave quarters, which struck Animal as ironic considering his current circumstances.

Animal’s room was a shadow of his home in Houston or even his apartment in Harlem for that matter. There were no big-screen televisions, no video games, and hardly any electronics at all except for a desk lamp and a satellite radio that sat on his nightstand. On the walls were maps of Puerto Rico and other Caribbean ports marked with red and green thumbtacks that formed strange patterns that only Animal understood. Stacked in corners and scattered on the floor were piles of newspapers and a few magazines. Most of them were New York
Daily News
es, as Animal liked to stay abreast of what was going on stateside. It was one of the few connections he had left to the home he’d been forced to flee.

“Shit, be careful with that thing,” Animal said. He was topless and lying on his side across his full-size bed. At his side, Red Sonja sat on a small stool beside the bed with what looked like a sewing needle pinched between her fingers.

“You cry more than a girl. Now quit fidgeting so I can finish,” she told him, adjusting the gooseneck lamp so she could see his wound better.

“That sounds familiar,” Animal said slyly, which paused her stitching. Animal looked over his shoulder and saw the sadness that had crossed her face. “I was only joking, Sonja.”

“Well, it wasn’t funny.” She folded her arms. Sonja bit her lip in frustration. “Everything is a joke to you, including people’s feelings. Ain’t you got no heart, Animal?”

He paused before answering. “I used to, but these days I ain’t so sure.” His answer seemed only to frustrate her more. “Sonja, when you’ve lost as much as I have, it makes it hard to feel for anything, or anyone. When you’re an outlaw, you live in the moment and don’t too much worry about tomorrow.”

“That’s a fucked-up way to live.”

“Unfortunately, it’s the only way I know how,” he said honestly. Since he’d arrived in Puerto Rico, Sonja had been trying to get Animal to open up. She was a good chick and had provided him with comfort when he needed it, but Animal never let it go beyond that. She needed something that he couldn’t give so he kept her at arm’s length. He could tell by the look on her face that she wanted to press the issue, as she often did, so he changed the subject. “How the hell do you know how to stitch a wound anyway?”

“Well, after I graduated high school I went to the army and got my RN. I did a tour of the Middle East, so that kept my hands full, but after a while it became too intense so I hung it up after my first tour. I ended up working at Cook County Hospital for two years before coming back to Puerto Rico to take care of my father.” She went back to threading the needle in and out of his skin expertly.

“Damn, I can’t imagine what was worse, the Middle East or South Side Chicago. I’ll bet you’ve seen some shit the way those Folks and Vice Lords be out there butchering each other, huh?”

Sonja stopped her stitching and looked up at him. “It ain’t no worse than what the Bloods and Crips are doing to each other in L.A. and New York. What makes your gang holier than theirs when at the end of the day it’s all genocide?”

“If that ain’t the pot calling the kettle black,” Animal capped. “For the time I’ve been here I ain’t seen nothing but Puerto Ricans banging on Puerto Ricans. Fuck how many of these li’l hoppers Poppito had us lay down out here, and he was born and raised in P.R.?”

Sonja thought on it before responding. “The war going on out here is way deeper than what you guys have going on. Even though Puerto Rico is technically a part of the United States, look at how differently we live. The United States is supposed to defend itself from enemies both foreign and domestic, but it’s the domestic terrorists like Cruz and his people that are being ignored. Yeah, drugs are what it’s about on the surface, but this shit goes
way
deeper. Cruz and his people will run Puerto Rico more crooked than the letter
S
if they’re left unchecked,” she said heatedly. “I don’t agree with the spilling of black or brown blood, but who wants to live under the yoke of somebody motivated more by greed than what’s best for the people?”

“If you’re against the spilling of black and brown blood, then why play the game for Poppito?” he asked sincerely.

“Because he’s my father and the well-being of my family comes before the well-being of everybody, including my country,” she said seriously.

Animal quietly drank in not only the weight of her words but the passion in her eyes when she spoke them. Red Sonja was a conundrum to him. She could go from being a socialite princess to a soldier in less than a breath and be believable in either role. Her strong will and no-nonsense attitude reminded him of Gucci, but there was another element to her that was alien to Animal. Had it been another place and another time, Animal would’ve enjoyed the challenge of trying to peel back the layers of Red Sonja to see what made her tick, but his soul was promised to another, so they would never be more than comrades in the war he had been selected to fight.

“Enough chitchat. I need to finish patching you up so I can get back to my own business. Flip over on your stomach,” she told him. Animal smiled back at her flirtatiously. “Let’s not go there again for both our sakes. The cut goes around to your back and I just need to finish closing it, so don’t flatter yourself. And just because I may bed the
help
from time to time doesn’t mean I get caught up with them.”

Her remark cut him, but he kept his composure. “Baby, I ain’t never helped nothing but
myself
and don’t plan on deviating from that, so please don’t group me in with the last New York nigga you might’ve had to stitch up out here. I’m a whole different breed,” Animal said with confidence and rolled over so that she could get at the cut.

Sonya straddled his back to get a better angle at the slash and purposely jabbed him with the needle when she went back to her stitching. “Had it been just anybody, they wouldn’t have made it out of the town square, let alone have me stitching their wounds. One thing anybody will tell you about Red Sonja is that I don’t do something for nothing.” She closed the stitch, then leaned in to bite the end of the thread off. As she did so she made sure to press her chest against his back so he could feel her stiff nipples through the tank top. Sonja leaned in and let her soft lips brush against his ear as she whispered, “I see potential in you, gringo, and I think you’ll be more valuable to me alive than dead.” She slapped him on his ass playfully and rolled off him.

Animal got off the bed and walked over to the dusty dressing mirror. He raised his arm and examined the expert job Sonja had done with his cut. “Damn, you do some good work.”

“You don’t have to tell me what I already know,” Sonja said over her shoulder as she washed her hands in the kitchenette sink. “Let me ask you something.” She approached him, drying her hands on a towel. “What the hell were you doing wandering the ghettos by yourself?”

“Just taking a walk,” Animal said, as if it was just that simple.

“Poppy, this ain’t Manhattan, this is the trenches and we are in the middle of a political war. You can’t just go for an afternoon stroll like that.”

“Why not? We’re all children of the ghetto, be it P.R. or N.Y., so why should I have to feel in a way about taking a walk?” he asked.

At first Sonja thought he was being sarcastic but his eyes said he was serious. “You just can’t.” She sighed. Her answer seemed only to confuse him more and it saddened her. Without meaning to, she reached out and stroked his cheek affectionately. There was such a childlike innocence to Animal that unless you had seen him in action you wouldn’t believe that he was a mass murderer. Animal was like a two-sided coin: one side a bright-eyed young man who loved to read and take walks and the other a cold killer birthed in the streets of New York and baptized by pain.

“Is this a bad time?” The voice startled them. Justice was standing in the half-open doorway, watching them with an amused look on his face. He was dressed in denim shorts, white Nike Airs, and a white T-shirt. His long hair was braided into two ponytails that hung down his back. Justice was almost a mirror twin of Animal except his skin was a little lighter and he sported a neatly trimmed beard.

“No, it’s cool. I was just patching your li’l brother up,” Sonja said. Though she and Animal hadn’t been doing anything, the look Justice was giving them made her feel guilty. “I’ll catch you guys later. I got some errands to run.”

“I’ll bet.” Justice smirked as Sonja passed him on her way out. He strode into Animal’s room, crunching newspapers under his feet. Justice picked one up and glanced over the two-week-old headline about a shooting in Harlem. “Damn, why don’t you throw some of these old-ass newspapers away?”

“I gotta stay up on what’s going down on the home front,” Animal told him.

“I don’t know why, it ain’t like your ass will be setting foot back in New York anytime soon.” Justice laughed, but Animal didn’t. “What’s good with you and shorty?” He was referring to Sonja.

Animal shrugged. “Nothing. I got into a little scrape and Sonja pulled my ass out of the fire.”

“From the look of that beauty mark it looks like a little more than a scrape.” Justice nodded at the freshly stitched cut. “But I think you and I both know that ain’t what I meant.”

Animal pulled a black T-shirt over his head. “If you’re trying to ask if I’m fucking her the answer is no.” Animal’s tone was less than convincing.

“For as much time as the two of you spend together, you should be.” Justice laughed.

“You know it’s only one chick that’ll ever have my heart,” Animal said seriously.

“Damn, I was just playing, li’l bro.” Justice flopped on the bed. “That Gucci broad must’ve been a real special lady, huh?”

“You have no idea. Gucci fit me like a missing piece to a puzzle.” He closed his eyes and saw her face in his head. “When you went to prison and Tech got killed I felt like I didn’t have nobody, but when Gucci came along, all that changed. I wish you had had a chance to meet her.”