HOLLYWOOD SAT at the kitchen table with Pop Top playing Casino and sipping Remy. They’d just gotten the word about High Side so there was a grimness in the air. Hollywood had been ready to arm up and go after Major Blood and expected Pop Top to feel the same way, but the stand-in general was surprisingly calm over the death of his best friend. He reasoned that the best way to finally put Major Blood down was to formulate a plan and then execute. Until then they were to keep close to Sharell until Gutter flew back that evening.
“Man, I’m ready to waste this muthafucka,” Hollywood said, laying a card down on the table. “It bad enough that he’s killing off our soldiers and shooting up funerals, but then to murk High Side like that… my dude, we need to make a move.”
“Shit, who you telling? Me and High Side came up on free lunch and now he ain’t here no more. Man, when we finally do pop off, I’m gonna stink this nigga personally.” Pop Top downed his glass and slammed it on the table. Though he might not have appeared to be, he was grieving over the loss of his comrade. He’d warned High Side to stay off the streets until it blew over, but as usual he didn’t listen. Now he was another notch on Major Blood’s belt. He hated sitting around on his hands while his people were gunned down in the street, but it was a necessary evil. Once the balance of power was officially shifted over, Major Blood would answer for his crimes.
Just then the doorbell rang, startling them.
“Who the fuck is that?” Hollywood snatched his gun off the table and got to his feet.
“Calm ya scary ass down. It’s probably the pizza I ordered.” Pop Top laughed at him. “I got tired of Sharell having to cook for us so I decided to give her a break. Since you’re up, go get the door, fool.”
“Fuck you, nigga,” Hollywood said, placing his gun back on the table and heading through the kitchen’s swinging door. As he crossed the living room he noticed Sharell standing at the top of the stairs with a worried expression on her face. “Don’t worry, Sharell, I got it.” He went to the door. When he opened it his mouth dropped open.
“Sup, Wood?” Major Blood greeted him before knocking him out.
chapter 42
THE CEREMONY was held at a small mosque in the South Central section of Los Angeles, not far from the university. Normally the burial ceremony would’ve been performed at the house of the deceased, but with the heat and gunplay surrounding Gunn’s passing it was decided that it would be best to do it at an outside location. Besides that it was doubtful that any of the homes owned by the Soladine family would’ve been large enough to accommodate the mourners.
It seemed like most of Southern California turned out to pay their respects to Big Gunn. There were at least a dozen or more different Crip sets in attendance and even a few Bloods had managed to sneak in. The tension ran high, but nobody was tripping. The wire had already been sent out that violence would not be tolerated. Whatever beefs that were active on the streets had no place there, and those who weren’t willing to respect it would be punished accordingly.
The imam who performed the ceremony was a former Crip who was once called Big Droopy, but now went by the name Jamal Ali. He had spilled his fair share of blood as a protege of Big Gunn’s in the late seventies and early eighties until Gutter’s father helped him find his way. His voice was just as captivating delivering the Salat Ul Janazah as it had been in battle when riding on his enemies.
The room was divided into two sides; comrades and civilians on one side with family and Muslims on the other. The sons and daughters of Allah stood proudly, arms crossed and facing Mecca, praying along with Jamal Ali. Danny was sitting off to the side, chopping it up with Blue Bird and Tears like they were old friends. Looking at him you’d never even know that he’d been party to a mass murder not even twenty-four hours prior.
From the number of women who showed out to mourn Big Gunn, you’d have thought he was a pimp. A few of them tried to cut Stacia dirty looks, but they knew better than to trip. Whether she and Gunn were together or not, she was still Queen Bitch. Rahshida sat down in the front with the rest of the fam. Lil Gunn tried to keep up his tough image, but a blind man could see that he was hurting. Gutter sat quietly in the back, wearing his murder ones, taking it all in.
“You, a’ight, loc?” Snake Eyes asked, sliding closer to Gutter on the wooden bench.
“I’m good,” Gutter told him. “How you doing?”
“Shit, you know I’m fucked-up behind this. I owed Gunn more than I’d ever be able to repay.” Snake Eyes recalled how many times Gunn had kept his ass out of the fire growing up.
“As much as you’ve done for the Soladines I think it’s safe to call it square.” Gutter chuckled softly. “So what now?”
Snake Eyes looked at his watch. “From here, I’m gonna ride with the family to Riverside to place Gunn’s body in the tomb. Tears is gonna take y’all to the airport. How does Lil Gunn feel about cutting out early?”
“I think he’s cool with it.” Gutter spared a glance at his cousin. “We got a lot to do when we hit New York. There are a lot of things I gotta put in order.”
“You going after Major Blood?”
Gutter was silent for a minute. “I guess.”
“You guess? That don’t sound like the warlord I know. You okay?” Snake Eyes asked.
“Honestly, I don’t know. Snake, since we were little nappy head niggaz trying to look hard on Crenshaw, all I ever wanted was to be a street legend. I’ve got money, power, and an army of dedicated soldiers, everything I’ve strived for, but with all that’s happened and impending fatherhood I ain’t so sure anymore. Is the price worth the prize?”
“Heavy is the crown,” Snake Eyes remarked.
“You ain’t lying about that, brother, but what am I supposed to do? This nigga done killed my uncle; I can’t just let it ride. He touched my family, Snake.”
“And you touched his,” Snake Eyes reminded him. “Loc, don’t nobody wanna see Major Blood put to sleep worse than me for what he did, but think about what you’d be losing by continuing the feud. My nigga, I watched you go through the motions after Lou-Loc died and again when Gunn was killed. Major Blood took one of yours and you wiped out everybody he had left. What if instead of you killing Major, he kills you, then what? Lil Gunn picks up a strap and tries to avenge your death, starting the cycle all over again.”
“So what you saying, I shouldn’t ride for the set?” Gutter asked defensively.
Snake Eyes laughed at Gutter’s quick mood change. “Nah, I ain’t saying that. You put in more work for the set than any nigga, red or blue, in the last ten years. L.C. is done, as are most of your enemies, what you got left to prove? Man, let the soldiers deal with that, you’ve got more important things to attend to.”
“What could be more important than riding for mine?”
“
“Snake, you tripping, this don’t sound like the homey that smoked that pig with me and Lou-Loc,” Gutter accused.
“Because I ain’t that nigga no more, I grew up. I got a big house, a fat bank account, and more pussy than I know what to do with; why the fuck would I wanna keep throwing stones at the pen or the grave? Gutter, ain’t a muthafucka living or dead that can question your gangsta or your love for the nation. All blood debts owed have been settled ten times over, except the most expensive one and that’s to your wife and that baby she’s carrying. You ain’t gonna be no good to either of them if you’re dead or in the can.”
“I don’t know if I can just let go like that, Snake. I got a responsibility to the homeys in New York,” Gutter tried to reason.
Snake Eyes scrunched up his face. “Man, you don’t owe nobody a muthafucking thing. You’ve organized one of the most powerful sets, on either coast, and made all them niggaz hood rich. If they can’t maintain without you, then they was some fucking busters to begin with. I love the homeys, Gutter, but I love you more. I’ve already lost one brother because he waited until the eleventh hour to decide he wanted to get out, and I don’t think I could stand to lose another one. Do something with that second chance you’ve been given.”
“I hear you talking, Snake,” Gutter said, mulling over his friend’s words.
“Do more than hear me, Gutter,
