“Yeah," said another thug. "What do you want?"
"Make it quick," said the tallest of the group. "Before we decide to have a little target practice."
The others laughed, but Reese held his ground. "I heard…” he said, and his voice cracked. A new round of laughter went up from the four men with guns. "I heard you guys had food," Reese said evenly.
"You heard we got food? Well, my man, you heard right,” said the short one with a glance over his shoulder at his comrades. “Man, we got everything. But you ain't going to see any of it."
"I say we waste ‘im right here," said the tall one with the shaved head. He took a step forward and rested his cheek against the stock of his rifle, as he took careful aim at Reese.
One of the others stepped forward and forced the tall one’s barrel down. “C’mon, man—you know the rules, same as me. We gotta call it in." A long moment passed as they stared at each other. "What are you waiting for? I'm in charge here. Go get one of the section leaders."
The only man among the group to remain silent thus far stepped forward. "We got a problem?" He said in a low, menacing voice. The short one turned and puffed his chest out. "Nah, dog, there ain't no problem. I'll go get your jefe. I can tell you want to do some kissing," he said with a laugh. He turned and walked off without another word.
The three men with weapons muttered to each other, then stepped forward, closer to Reese. "You must be really hard up to come out here asking for handouts. You know what we do to people like you?"
Reese noted that none of them pointed their weapons at him any longer. He let out a long breath. “I’ve heard rumors…”
"Yeah, well," the skinhead said. "Whatever you heard, it's worse." He flashed a yellow-toothed smile. "I can't lie to you—I don't see you livin’ to see the sunset."
"You made a mistake coming here my friend," said the one who’d stopped Reese’s execution. "No offense, but this is a new world. The strong are going to inherit everything. And the weak…” He looked at Reese and his gaze drifted to the sling tied around his right arm. "Well, you're either going to do the work that we tell you to do, or you're going to die."
Before Reese could say anything in response, the short gang member emerged from behind the barricade, followed by a man that looked vaguely familiar to Reese. His heart skipped a beat, and the blood in his veins ran cold. The man who walked toward him, a pistol on his hip and a smug look on his face, was none other than the leader of the group of carjackers that had kidnapped Jo.
"Well, well, well…look what the cat dragged in," Sean Mayo said. "It's a good thing you idiots didn't light this guy up," Mayo said as he stepped closer to Reese and leaned in to get a better look. “You look worse in daylight than you did at night.” He glanced at the others. “You guys know who this fool is?”
"Want to enlighten us, oh wise one?” the skinhead muttered. The others snickered.
"This is the guy that killed my brother.”
Reese took an involuntary step back.
"Oh, you didn't think I'd remember you because it was dark, huh?” Mayo took a quick step forward and drew his pistol. "Took me an hour before I could find enough water to wash my little brother’s blood off my face. He was an animal, and I don't think there's anybody here that truly misses him—but he was the only family I’ve had for most of my life. You didn't have the right to take him out like that.” He tapped the pistol on his own chest. “I’m the only one allowed to hurt Charlie.”
“Hey, Sean…maybe we should—“ began one of the others.
Mayo didn’t listen. He put the pistol to Reese’s forehead. “There’s a lotta guys in that building behind me that want to be in my good graces. They’ll want a piece of your hide to prove their loyalty to me. And they'll pay anything to get it."
“To you?” Reese stammered as sweat dripped into his eyes. He blinked away the stinging sensation.
“To me. My momma’d be so proud…”
“You…you’re…The Boss?” Reese whispered, his words barely audible.
Mayo leaned in, the stink of onions and garlic around him so strong Reese’s eyes watered. “Ssssh,” he breathed. “Not yet…”
Reese opened his mouth, but no words came out. His throat constricted in fear, and he found he couldn't breathe. Then a gunshot echoed in the distance. The others stared at each other for a moment, then Mayo turned his head and listened. Two more shots fired, pop-pop, in rapid succession, followed by a deep, throaty rat-tat-tat-tat-tat.
"What's going on?" asked the skinhead.
"Listen—sounds like there's a firefight,” the skinhead said. Gunfire erupted from the other side of the building and echoed back and forth across the street. In seconds, the handful of shots fired at the outset escalated into a full-on battle.
"It is an attack! Get back inside, we gotta clear out—” ordered Mayo.
Reese ducked and rolled to the left. He slammed his good shoulder into the ground, thankful he was still alive to feel pain. Before he managed to get to his knees, gunshots flared much closer, someone grunted, and a sticky wetness splattered across his face. He continued his roll and came up on one knee, using momentum to bring himself back to his feet and remain in a crouch. When he looked around, one of the gang bangers lay motionless on the ground. The tall skinhead turned and
