With his hoodie pulled low over his head and his hands jammed inside his pockets, Tone walked quickly across the street. Suddenly people began moving out of his way, as if they could sense that he was up to no good. Tone continued to follow Sykes, who at this time was oblivious of his presence. Soon as he turned on to Gold Street, Tone picked up his pace. He steadily began to close the distance between them. Tone didn’t want to shoot him in the back, especially not from far away. He wanted to get close enough to put a bullet in his head.
Unaware that he was being stalked, Sykes continued to walk toward his ride while clutching a few bags of dope. All that was on his mind was making it to the car and getting away from around here so he and his driver could go somewhere and get high.
Just as Tone removed the small caliber gun from his pocket and began to quicken his pace, Sykes must have felt his presence because he turned around just in time to see the weapon being raised and pointed in his direction. Tone saw the fear in his eyes. Sykes looked as if he’d seen a ghost. Immediately, he took off running.
Boom! Boom! The gun roared.
Two bullets quickly whizzed by his head. Sykes’ surprisingly quick reaction had amazed Tone. He hadn’t expected that.
The sound of the first shot immediately grabbed Sonya’s attention. She doubted that it was gunfire until she heard it again. She turned to the direction that the noise had come from. Realizing it was the same direction that Tone had disappeared into, she began to wonder just what the hell was he up to.
Running behind Sykes, Tone quickly gained ground. He was so close that he could hear Sykes gasping for air. Stopping in his tracks, he aimed his gun. Tone’s adrenaline was racing through his veins. His finger tightened on the trigger. His thoughts seemed to slow down as the surreal moment played itself out on that side street.
Tone desperately tried to steady his hand so he could get a clean shot at Sykes’ head. He knew his first two shots had missed just by the ease of which his victim was still running.
“Yeah nigger, what’s up now,” Tone yelled, removing his hoodie.
In his mind Sykes was a dead man. Tone stood less than fifty feet away from him, thinking how easy it was to kill him before he got to the car. Now he would put this drama to an end once and for all.
Fearing for his life, Sykes summoned a burst of speed that even he didn’t know he had. Thinking Tone was hot on his heels, Sykes began to run in a zig-zag pattern to his ride. As he ran, Sykes couldn’t help but think that at any moment he was going to catch a bullet in his back or to the back of the head. In fact, he braced himself for it.
Just as Sykes reached the car door, Tone calmly took aim and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Tone stared at Sykes in disbelief as he scrambled to get inside the car. Once again he squeezed the trigger at the car window, because Sykes had already fled inside, and again nothing happened. It was then that Tone realized that there was a malfunction in the gun. It had jammed. As if his life depended on it, Tone quickly ejected the clip into his hand, removing the awkward angled, unspent shell. He then slammed the clip back into the gun. He cocked the gun back and prepared to fire, but it was too late. The getaway car was gone.
The sound of tires screeching signaled to Tone that his opportunity was getting away. So he did the only thing he could do. He chased the car, firing erratically at it while running.
Boom! Boom! Boom! The crackle and pop of gunfire sounded. Once the car was out of sight, Tone turned and ran back in the opposite direction. Sonya had already been looking in the direction where the loud gunshots had come from. Within a few seconds, Tone reappeared, running from that exact same corner.
“Drive!” he shouted as he entered the car.
“Was that you shooting?” she questioned.
When it came to certain things involving the streets, Tone had to spell it out for her. More than likely, this always took place at the wrong time. Now was one of those times. He didn’t have time to offer an explanation. Sonya just needed to play her part, do as she was told, and drive.
“Yeah!” he barked. “Now let’s get the fuck outta here.”
“Oh my God!” she cried as she quickly drove away.
“Slow down!” Tone coached her. “You goin’ too fast. You gone get me knocked.”
Stunned, Sonya kept her eyes on the road and drove as best she could. Her nerves were shot. She was scared and angry at the same time. This was too much for her to handle. She felt like she didn’t deserve to be an accessory to a crime. What if that person was dead? What if someone had written down her tag number? Then it would all come back to her since the car was insured under her name.
This was it for her, their quiet evening together was now officially over. She wanted to go home and calm her nerves.
When Tone finally turned around, convinced that there were no police cars behind them, he noticed that they weren’t headed downtown in the direction of the restaurant.
“Where you goin’?” he wondered. “The restaurant ain’t this way.”
“I’m goin’ home.” She rolled her eyes. “I had enough of you for the night. Tone, I don’t believe you did no dumb shit like that wit’ me in the car. You put my life in danger....”
“What?” Tone snapped, searching her face for
