Miguel was barely able to throw himself out of the way as the embers ignited his clothing and singed his cheek. The more he swatted at the flames the more they seemed to spread. Man’s natural fear of fire caused him to momentarily forget his enemies and try to strip out of his jacket. This gave Goldie a clear window.
The first bullet hit Miguel high in the shoulder and sent him stumbling forward. When he turned around, Goldie hit him twice more in the chest. Miguel crashed into the bar, sending abandoned glasses and bottles spilling to the floor. The last thing he would see in his young life was the grin on Goldie’s face as he sent a fatal round through his cheek.
HOLLYWOOD NARROWLY missed the barrage of bullets Tito sent his way, as the edge of the bar provided him with a minute to breathe. It felt like slugs were coming from every direction at once, and even with the Dragon-Mouth he and Goldie were in a tight spot.
“Cuz, we gotta make for the back!” Goldie shouted from over his shoulder.
“You’ll get no argument from me,” Hollywood said, sliding another shell into the gun. “When I let this bitch rock, be ready to bust a move!”
“Solid,” Goldie said, still clutching the girl.
Hollywood popped from behind the bar and fired, holding the sawed-off in a one-handed grip. The kick knocked his aim off a bit, but it didn’t affect the damage inflicted as the fiery pellets ignited everything in their path. While Major Blood and Tito dove for cover, Hollywood broke for the back door.
Dirty Bill, who had all but been forgotten, saw his chance and made the mad dash. He fired his gun over his shoulder, not really hitting anything, and moved as fast as he could toward the back door. Seeing his comrade dart out into his line of fire gave Goldie pause, and this was all the time Major Blood needed to react. He gave Goldie one to the chest and flipped him backward. Dirty Bill never even cast a glance at the man who he called friend as he disappeared toward the back.
BILL ALMOST broke his neck getting to the fire door. When the bullet struck the wall just above his head he almost shitted his pants. Hollywood was hot on his heels. He knew the homeys were sure to brand him a sucker for the stunt he pulled so he reasoned he might as well kill Hollywood to keep the story from getting out.
Without breaking his stride Bill lowered his shoulder and crashed through the fire door. The emergency siren went off, but Billy couldn’t hear it over the sound of his own heart thudding in his ears. He knew he was free at the moment the cool air hit him, but the thought quickly left his brain as a bullet exploded in it.
“HOW’S HE holding up?” Sharell called over her shoulder.
“I can’t stop the bleeding,” Satin said nervously as she pressed her hands over the hole in Mohammad’s back. He was lying across the floor of the backseat with a dreamy look in his eyes.
“Mohammad, we should really get you to a hospital,” Sharell said, weaving the X5 in and out of traffic.
“No,” Mohammad said weakly. “We can’t risk the police getting involved. Here.” He handed her his cell, which was slick with blood. “Call Anwar, and tell him where we’re going. He’ll send someone.”
“But what if you bleed to death before help comes?” Satin asked.
“Then it will be what it will be. Just keep driving until we get to the address. Anwar will take care of everything,” he told her before closing his eyes.
“Mohammad, Mohammad!” Satin shook him. At first she thought he was dead, but his eyes fluttered open.
“Not to worry, Sharif won’t let the reaper have me. He’s promised as much,” Mohammad assured her.
“Sharell, delirium is setting in. I don’t think he’s going to make it.”
“Mohammad, don’t you go dying on us, you hear me?” Sharell called to him, but there was no answer. She spared a glance over her shoulder to see that he was still breathing, but barely. “Lord, please don’t take him,” she whispered, flipping Mohammad’s phone open to call Anwar.
chapter 30
HOLLYWOOD DIDN’T have to look over his shoulder to know that Tito and Major Blood were hot on his heels. If their heavy footfalls hadn’t given them away the plaster spraying on him from all sides did.
Just ahead of him he saw Dirty Bill hit the fire door and go spilling into the darkened alley, two seconds later he was flopping back inside. A small hole appeared in the middle of his forehead, though the blood had yet to show itself.
“Die young and leave a good-looking corpse,” he mumbled before rushing the fire door, with the Dragon-Mouth at the ready.
The two young men who had been staked out in the alley were so focused on Bill that they didn’t even notice Hollywood swing the Dragon around until its roar bounced off the walls of the alley. Boo managed to dive out of the way at the last second, but his partner wasn’t so lucky. He flapped around on the ground like a wounded fish as the flames ate away at his chest and face. His agony was intense, but short-lived as Hollywood tossed the spent sawed-off and finished him with his pistol. Seeing the streetlights at the end of the alley, Hollywood rushed for freedom, only to be fired on before he made it out of the alley.
HAD HOLLYWOOD not slipped on a beer bottle, Boo would’ve parted his skull like the Red Sea with the shot he let off. Hollywood fell hard on his ass, just before a bullet struck the wall above his head. The impact from the fall jarred his gun loose and sent a jolt of pain through his broken hand as he landed on it. He now found himself a bit dazed and at the mercy of the coal-black young man advancing on him. Just when it seemed like it was over, the whole alley was flooded with light and angry shouts.
HOLLYWOOD BARELY had time to roll out of the way as the Honda jumped the curb and slammed into Boo. The car pinned his small frame to the wall with a bone-cracking sound, sending blood spraying from his mouth and onto the windshield. In a rare act of mercy Bruticus got out on the passenger’s side and blasted Boo once in the head.
“Yo, Wood…” Bruticus turned to say something to his comrade and a slug slammed into his lower back, sending him crashing into the hood of the car. Another spray of bullets came from across the street where Eddie had been hiding, riddling the side of the car.
After retrieving his pistol Hollywood staggered toward the car, sending an occasional shot at the fire door to keep Tito and Major at bay. He was barely able to duck into the backseat before Eddie shredded the top of the car.
Leaning from the driver’s seat, High Side spit off with his 9, laying cover fire for Bruticus to make it back inside the car. Before all the doors could be closed, High Side threw the car in reverse, clipping a fire hydrant when they hit the street, blanketing the block in water. He felt like a coward for running, but a good run was always better than a bad stand.
“Cuz, what was that shit all about?” High Side asked, swerving in traffic.
“It was about some faggot-ass slobs stepping way out of bounds,” Hollywood panted. “Man, this shit is getting out of hand real quick.” He felt his ruined face. Even if he dropped a few stacks on getting plastic surgery there would probably still be a scar.
“Son, I’m calling Pop Top and telling him what went down.” High Side flipped his cell phone open.
“Fuck Pop Top, nigga. Get Gutter on the line!” Bruticus demanded, trying not to pass out from the loss of blood.
