“That’s that nigga right there,” Mann told him, pointing Black out.
Immediately, Tone hopped out the car and sprung into action. He raised the compact submachine gun to his chest, barely having to brace himself. An eerie silence seemed to engulf the block seconds before the attack. Black’s sixth sense seemed to alert him of the assassination attempt. He turned just as Tone pointed the weapon at him. Black was able to duck a millisecond before Tone began to fire.
The heart pounding sounds of automatic gunfire shattered the tranquility of the block. Sounds of broken glass, running feet and screams soon filled the air. Tone was thoughtless in his firing of the Uzi. He unleashed a high volume of bullets that no target could sustain to an extended period of time. He fired at Black and anyone else he thought was a threat. He wasn’t really thinking, a gun of that magnitude didn’t require him to. All he needed to do was point and squeeze the trigger.
Tone was sure he hit a few people. He could tell by the screams and the sudden collapses to the ground. Yet he wasn’t for sure if he had hit Black, his primary target.
After a few tense moments of hiding behind a car and listening for Tone’s footsteps, Black was able to slip away amongst the ongoing confusion.
For the entirety of the shootout, all Tone kept thinking about in the back of his mind was the police. He kept a silent count in his head of how long things had been going on. Right now it was telling him it was time to go. So Tone hopped back into the car, automatic gunfire erupted from the interior as they sped off.
Humiliated, Black ran through the alley a few blocks away. He knew he was lucky to have escaped with his life. He also knew he might not be so lucky next time. He didn’t know who that guy was that was shooting at him, but one thing he knew for sure, he was going to find out.
Netta hadn’t paged Tone a single time since he left the house earlier in the day. That didn’t mean she didn’t want to. She tried to ease her anxieties by going to bed. But whenever Netta tried to rest, she couldn’t. She just laid in the bed unable to sleep. There was constant movement, fidgeting from her eyes and limbs. Her mind was constantly in motion. She was experiencing strong bouts of restlessness. Black kept popping up in her head. The only thing that brought her peace was the grip of the gun in her hand.
She was having second thoughts about her new living arrangements. Netta felt she had rushed into this living arrangement knowing it was what he wanted, but not knowing if this was what she really wanted.
A sudden opening of the apartment door broke up those negative thoughts. When Tone finally arrived home, Netta had never been so glad to see someone in her life.
“What’s wrong with you?” Tone asked as Netta embraced him.
“Nothin’, I just missed you.” She smiled in an attempt to divert him from the truth.
Tone knew something was up even though he didn’t bother to press her about it. He had deeper concerns at the moment.
“I took care of that nigga,” he suddenly stated.
After shooting at Black, the only regret on Tone’s part was he didn’t let Netta know his plans before hand. However, he knew Black’s modus operandi, violence was his calling card. Black was a killer many times over. So Tone had made up his mind to strike first. He wasn’t waiting on Black to make the first move.
“Who?” Netta wondered, not having the slightest idea of whom he was talking about.
“Black!” Tone answered. “I think I got him.”
You think, Netta wondered. Either you did or you didn’t.
Tone continued, “Shit was crazy out there. I was just shootin’…..”
“Black ain’t the type of nigga you shoot. He’s the type of nigga you kill,” Netta told him.
Those words hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity, with each person left to determine the true meaning.
Instantly, Netta’s mind was flooded with fears and what ifs. Her warning seemed to allude to something. Like there was trouble brewing on the horizon. This would be a tit for tat situation. Right now, Tone was up, but Black owed him one. She knew that if he ever caught up with them, Black would be out for blood.
Suddenly, things were getting too real, too serious, and too dangerous for them both. Now there were consequences to pay.
“Now we really gotta get up out of Baltimore, yo……” Netta stated.
After speaking she fell silent. Now she was left to ponder what Black’s next move would be.
17
Netta lay in the bed, half asleep. She was emotionally drained and exhausted from having been up all night. She had talked to Tone briefly during the night, just to make sure that they were on the same page with their exit strategy. Yet the reality of what he had done weighed heavily on her. There was no coming back from the mistake Tone had made. The incident only served to accelerate their departure.
In her sleep a sense of complete isolation had overtaken her. Netta had forgotten that she wasn’t sleeping alone. When Tone wrapped his arms around her trying to cuddle, panic suddenly gripped her. She elbowed him hard in his midsection, while retrieving the firearm from under her pillow. She raised the weapon high into a firing position at the same time whirling around to face her would-be attacker.
Tone rushed into action, making a grab for the gun and began wrestling it away from her.
“Yo! Yo! Netta it’s me!” Tone shouted out as they tussled.
Netta struggled with Tone briefly before she came to her senses and recognized whom he was and where she was.
“Sorry,” she apologized. “I was havin’
