Nine people caught on camera lootin
Thursday, September 14, 2017
Wednesday, September 13, 2017
Burglars use Irma as an excuse to loot stores, destroy offices. Laptops, shoes popular.
Nearly 60 people have been arrested in Miami and Miami-Dade County and charged with looting during and after Hurricane Irma. Laptops, athletic shoes and clothing are the items of choice.
At the Shops at Midtown Miami, crooks helped themselves to shoes, clothes and laptops from closed-up stores. A little farther north in Little River, thieves used a sledgehammer to break into several businesses in Miami’s Junction Lofts. In Miami-Dade County, 37 people were arrested for post-Hurricane Irma looting.
Across South Florida, police departments have been grappling with burglars who are using the storm to rip off businesses and property owners. While there aren’t exact numbers yet — police departments are preoccupied with post-Irma duties — reports of looting are sprouting up.
“This all occurred during the midst of the hurricane,” Miami’s Deputy Chief Luis Cabrera said during a news conference Tuesday referring to the incident at the Shops at Midtown Miami. “These criminals took advantage of the situation and they basically terrorized our businesses during the most vulnerable stage and this is not acceptable.”
In Miami, there have been 25 arrests, six of whom were charged with hitting the Shops at Midtown Miami. Over the weekend, police released video of looters running from the stores
video https://www.pscp.tv/MiamiPD/1yoJMpEMaleGQ
Police secured a warrant and recovered shoe boxes, laptops, clothes and other goods from stores including Metro PCS and Foot Locker. A Foot Locker employee identified the items, Cabrera said.
“We are here to send a message to the business community that they will protected,” Miami Mayor Tomás Regalado said.
In Little River, thieves with sledgehammers ransacked 14 business inside Junction Lofts, 7151 NE Second Ave. Among them: The Dana Agency, a public relations firm.
Dana Rhoden, the president, said she had evacuated South Florida and found out from an employee that her business was destroyed. Theives hacked the door, stole computers, a big screen television and threw files everywhere.
“Honestly, I think it’s pathetic of people taking advantage of people during a time of crisis,” she said
The Dana Agency inside Miami’s Junction Lofts was ransacked Sunday, Sept. 10, 2017, as looters viewed Hurricane Irma as an opportunity to steal.
The Dana Agency
In Miami Beach, police said there about three reports of commercial burglaries during Irma. Calls to other police departments, including Coral Gables, Miami Gardens, Doral, Homestead and Hialeah, were not immediately returned.
In the unincorporated areas of Miami-Dade, there were 37 looting arrests, 10 in south Dade, 26 in north Dade and one in the Intracoastal area in northeast Miami-Dade.
Robin Pinkard, a spokeswoman for Miami-Dade police, said the community has been stepping up and calling in tips.
“We want to let the community know looting will not be tolerated,” Pinkard said. “It’s a crime that hurts not only the business but it hurts the community as well.”
Miami Herald Staff Writer David J. Neal contributed to this report.
Chapter 18 ( Gabos )
Still Breathing
When Fatboy and Flick reached the hospital, and entered the
waiting lobby, they saw Mr. Big and Mrs. Queen sitting by each other, with
worry written all over their faces.
“Mr. Big, what’s up with Pokey? He gonna be all right, right?”
Flick asked.
As Fatboy sat down beside Mrs. Queen, who was crying silently,
“Mrs. Queen, what the doctor talking ’bout? What’s up with my dog? He gonna be
all right or what?” Fatboy asked.
As he waited for Mrs. Queen to say something, she just looked at
him and began to cry harder. As he reached over and tried to give her a hug of
support, she screamed, “Don’t touch me, don’t you touch me. If it wasn’t for
you and him,” she screamed, pointing at Flick, “my baby wouldn’t be in this
damn hospital fighting for his life. Now get out!” Mrs. Queen screamed.
“Look, Mrs. Queen, I know you’re upset and worried right now, but
I ain’t just gonna up and leave my dog. I’mma be by his side all the way through
this, ’cause I know if it was me lying in the hospital bed fighting for my
life, he would do the same for me,” Fatboy said, watching Mrs. Queen get up and
walk to the other side and have a seat, looking off into space.
“Damn, Mr. Big, why she tripping on us?” Flick asked.
“Look, y’all, that’s her only son and mines too,” Mr. Big said.
When Mr. Big said his too, Fatboy said, “What you just said, Pokey ya son?”
“Yeah, he is,” Mr. Big said. “I was gonna tell him but didn’t know
how to.”
“Well, tell him when he come through,” Flick said.
“I will,” Mr. Big said, placing his face in his hands, as he
started to cry.
“Mr. Big, what’s up with Pokey? Damn, y’all ain’t gonna tell us
shit,” Fatboy said, getting angry.
“Listen, y’all, I know that’s y’all friend, and y’all worried
about him. But that’s my son and hers too. Right now shit hard on us.”
“Man, fuck that shit you talking. Yeah, he ya son, but he our
brother too,” Fatboy said. “We bleed the same blood he bleed, what he going
through in there we going through in here,” Fatboy said, touching his heart.
“So will you just tell us is he okay, or do we have to act a fool in this bitch
and just rush off in the room to see our dog?” Fatboy said, now walking around
in a circle.
“Come on, take a walk with me outside,” Mr. Big said. “I wanna
show y’all something.” As they walked outside, Mr. Big said, “Look at this,”
pointing at the ground. When Fatboy and Flick looked down at the ground, all
they seen was a bunch of red spots, leading from the door to somewhere else.
“So what, what does this have to do with Pokey?” Flick asked.
“Lil nigga, what you looking at is my son’s blood. He lost a lot
of blood on the way over here. And the doctors say it’s not looking good,
’cause we got him here so late. It’s a fifty-fifty chance that he’ll make it.
Look,” Mr. Big said, making his way to his car and opening the door. As he
opened the door, he said, “Look.” When Fatboy and Flick looked inside the car,
they saw blood all over the front seat.
“Damn,” Fatboy said, and that’s when he finally noticed all the
blood on Mr. Big’s clothes. “I guess that’s from him carrying my dog,” Fatboy
was thinking.
“Look y’all, I’m sorry,” Mr. Big said. “I’m pretty sure y’all know
and seen whoever did this, didn’t make it.”
“Yeah, we know, Mr. Big. But it’s nothing we can do to help Pokey,
is it?” Flick asked.
“Yeah, it is, all you can do is pray and hope for the best. He
strong and the doctors said it’s really on him. If he fights, like I hope he
will, he’ll pull through. Right now he’s in a light coma. Every now and then he
moves his fingers when his mother says she loves him, so I’m praying that’s a
good sign,” Mr. Big said.
“Can we see him?” Flick asked.
“Look, right now they working on him. The nigga that beat him in
the head with the gun did a good job. He gotta have stiches, and they said he
gone have a scar for life. If he pulls through, as soon as the doctors let us
in again, y’all can come with us,” Mr. Big said, walking the boys back in the
waiting lobby. When they entered the building, they saw Mrs. Queen, holding
hands with another woman, eyes closed like they were praying or something.
“Damn, I see every time something bad happens, everybody wanna get
all religious, like it’s a God out there who really hears prayer. This shit
crazy,” Fatboy said, taking a seat.
“Look,” Mr. Big said, “it’s probably gonna be a while before we
are allowed in to see Pokey. So if y’all wanna burn up and come back later,
y’all can.”
“Man, you tripping. We gonna sit right here and wait on our dog to
come through,” Flick said. He looked over at Fatboy, who was shaking his head
up and down, saying, “That’s right,” without saying a word.
“That’s fine with me,” Mr. Big said.
“Hey, Mr. Big, can I ask you one question?” Flick said.
“Yeah, what’s up?” Mr. Big replied.
“How come you never told Pokey he had a daddy? Maybe if you would’ve,
he wouldn’t be stuck to a hospital bed right now,” Flick said.
“Shortie, you got a lot to learn, but I’m pretty sure it’s the
same question Pokey will ask once I tell him. So I might as well explain myself
to his friends as well,” Mr. Big said. “Listen, in this life, it’s a lotta
things we will regret but something you can’t help nor change. If I would’ve
knew Pokey was my son for real, half the shit he went through would’ve never
happen. Listen, growing up, I was just like y’all, determined. I wanted the
whole world in my hands. Me and his momma Mrs. Queen, we used to love one
another, but I loved the street life more than I did her, so she up and left.
And even though I was told by my lil brother Sico that she was having my baby,
I never really paid it any attention, until the time I seen y’all at the park.
When I saw this lil nigga, I knew he was my son, so I started doing lil things
to help y’all out. But now I realize it wasn’t the best thing to do, ’cause it
may cost him his life if he don’t pull through. That’s why I’m getting out the
game, ’cause I hope he’ll learn from this and give it up too,” Mr. Big said,
wiping away a tear. “I got enough money for all us to live off of, I just—”
As he was about to say something else, Dr. Van walked into the
waiting room and said, “Mr. Haywood, which is Mr. Big and Mrs. Queen?” looking
around until Mr. Big and Mrs. Queen were standing next to him. “Mr. Haywood and
Mrs. Queen, I’ve come to inform you of your son’s well-being.”
“What is it, Doctor? Is he gonna be all right?” Mrs. Queen asked.
“Listen for a moment,” Dr. Van said, “your son took a very bad
beating to the head. As we speak the other doctors are working to remove the
fluid from around his brain, which we already informed you about. If we can
remove all the fluid without any problem, he’ll have a 75 percent chance of
being normal again.”
“And if you can’t remove the fluid from around his brain, then
what?” Mr. Big asked.
“Then his chances of living is none to zero,” Dr. Van said, as he
watched Mrs. Queen fall to the floor and start crying.
“Doctor, please help my baby, please!” she yelled.
“Ma’am, I assure you we are doing all we can to save this young
man’s life,” Dr. Van said.
“When can we see him again?” Mr. Big asked.
“Right now, he is still in a coma. He lost a lot of blood, but
he’s a fighter. Many others would’ve been gave up if they would have took a
beating and lost as much blood as he did. But I can promise you as soon as he’s
outta harm’s way and we got all the fluid removed from his brain, I’ll call
y’all, in to see him. But I want you to remember, he doesn’t look good, due to
there’s a lot of swelling on his face. But if he pulls through, all that will
go down,” Dr. Van said, looking at both parents and feeling sorry for them
both. “Well, let me get back in here and do my job,” Dr. Van said, walking off,
listening to a mother’s cry and remembering a father’s sad look that touched
his heart.
Five and a half hours later, Dr. Van came back out with a lil
smile on his face.
“Mr. and Mrs. Haywood, I have some good news and some bad news.”
“What is it?” Mrs. Queen asked.
“Well, we got all the fluid from around his brain,” Dr. Van said.
“So that’s the good news,” Mr. Big said, feeling some relief. “But
what’s the bad news?”
“Well, the bad news is he’s still in a coma, but I’m pretty sure
with the fluid from around his brain, he will wake up soon. I have no timetable
to when, everything is now on him. We sewed up the hole in his head, and
already some of the swelling is about to go down.”
“Well, when can we see him?” Mrs. Queen asked.
“Oh, you can go see him in about twenty minutes. They are removing
him from the operating room as we speak,” Dr. Van said.
“Thank you, Doctor. Will it be okay if his two friends come along?
They were there when things went down, and they’re really worried about him,”
Mr. Big said.
“It’s okay with me,” Dr. Van said.
“Okay, let me go tend to another needed patient,” the doctor said,
walking off.
“Fatboy, Flick, come here,” Mr. Big said. “Look, the doctor just
gave us some good news and some bad.”
“What is it, Mr. Big,” Flick asked.
“Well, they removed all the fluid from around his brain, that’s
the good thing, so he’s outta harm’s way.”
“And the bad news?” Fatboy asked.
“Well, he’s still in a coma,” Mr. Big said. “And the doctor said
he has no timetable how long he’ll be like that.”
“But he straight, right?” Fatboy asked.
“Look, all I know is the worst part is over,” Mr. Big said. “Now
it’s on him, how long he wanna sleep,” Mr. Big said, taking a seat, saying a
silent prayer to himself.
Then Mrs. Queen called Fatboy over. “Fatboy, listen, I just wanna
say I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. I was just under a lot of stress with
my baby boy being like he was,” Mrs. Queen said.
“That’s all right, Mrs. Queen, I understand,” Fatboy said, giving
her a hug.
“Let’s pray,” Mrs. Queen said to everyone. As she started her
prayer, she was interrupted by Dr. Van, who called out Mr. and Mrs. Haywood.
“Y’all are allowed to see y’all son now. He’s in room B23.”
“Okay, Doc, thanks,” she said, walking off, with Mr. Big, Fatboy,
and Flick on her heels. When she opened the door, she seen her baby lying in
the bed, still as a dead body, with wraps around his head. He didn’t even look
the same. In a few short hours, it seems like Pokey done lost ’bout fifty
pounds, it broke her heart to see him like that. As she made her way to his
bedside, she began to let the tears fall freely. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry this had
to happen to you, I love you so much.” Each and every time she said I love you,
Fatboy notices his dog’s finger move just a little bit. As they all walked to
his bedside and took a look at Pokey, they all thought it would be best to
leave a mother with her son. As they started walking out the door, Mrs. Queen
said, “Look, I know y’all wanna talk to him too, so I won’t be long,” she said.
As she watched them all exit the room and close the door, she began to talk.
“Pokey, I’m sorry I lied to you about your father. I just didn’t wanna lose you
like I lost him by you following in his footsteps. I don’t know what I’ll do if
I lose you. So, baby, fight, fight for me, fight for your friends, fight for
life. I love you, baby,” she said. As she got up from his bedside, she never
noticed his fingers moved. As she made her way to the door, she stopped to look
at her son one last time, before walking out the door.
As she came out, Mr. Big came in, walking with his head down. As
he sat next to his bedside, he grabbed Pokey’s hand and placed it in his. As he
began to talk, a tear escaped his eye. As he let it fall, he said, “Pokey, I
know I haven’t been in your life long, but its seems when I come in your life,
shit like this happen. If you can hear me, I want you to know the life you was
living before this happen, you don’t have to live no more. If you want, you can
come live with me, and I promise shit will be gravvy.” As Mr. Big was about to
say something, he felt Pokey’s fingers move inside his hand. But when he picked
his hand up that was holding Pokey’s hand, it stopped. So he thought it was
just his imagination. Then he got up and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, and
hopefully you’ll be awake,” Mr. Big said, walking out the door to see Fatboy
and Flick standing against the wall.
“Y’all can go on in. I think y’all got ’bout fifteen minutes
before visiting hours over. I’mma go ahead and head home, go get cleaned up,
then I’ll be back,” Mr. Big said, walking off.
As Fatboy and Flick entered the room, they both grabbed a chair
and sat on opposite sides.
“Pok, I know you can hear us, so listen up, hardhead nigga. We
started all this shit together, so you need to wake up so we can finish
building this empire we started as a team together. I’m sorry, dog, we got
caught slipping the way we did. If we was on point none of this shit would’ve
happen. So I hope when you pull through this, you ain’t mad at us. I just want
you to know the niggaz that did this to you are no longer breathing. So, my
nigga, best believe you in a better state than they are,” Flick said, catching
himself before he started shedding tears. “Fatboy, I’mma wait on you outside in
the car,” Flick said.
“All right, dirty, I’ll be there in a minute.” As he watched Flick
walk out the door, he turned back toward his friend. “Pok, nigga you need to
stop bullshitting and come outta dreamland. You know a nigga need you out here
with us. I understand you wanna take a break,” Fatboy said, smiling to himself,
“but you the one said you’ll sleep when you die, and you got a lot of living to
do. So what’s up with all this sleeping? Really though, dog, I’m sorry. I’ve
sat out in the waiting area, wondering why it had to be you and not me. Dog, if
I could change places with you, I would in a heartbeat, but then I know if the shoe
was on the other foot, you’ll be telling me this same shit. Listen, dog, when I
come back up here, you better be awoke, ’cause we got things to do,” Fatboy
said, getting up, squeezing his dog’s hand. As he felt his dog try to squeeze
back, he knew in his heart his dog heard everything he just said, he knew he
would pull through. As he let go off his hand and looked down at his dog, he
whispered, “Much love, my nigga,” before walking out the door.
Monday, September 11, 2017
Chapter 17 ( Gabos )
Stopping up Our Game Three Months Later
“Damn, we got shit on smash with the three keys ya uncle gave you
and Shine and Boo Boo out the way, we been seeing major paper. It’s a good
thing Mr. Big gave us a chance to show him we can handle shit on our own,”
Flick said.
“Yeah, but we can’t forget the first two months was pure hell. So
I guess it’s true, at the end of every rainbow it’s a pot of gold,” Fatboy
said, looking over at the bundles of money they made in the last three months.
“The sad thing is Mr. Big said this it’s he done lost too many
friends and family members behind this game. Not that we mad, ’cause we ain’t.
We still got enough money to cope our own shit and keep business booming. It
just won’t be as cheap-ass Mr. Big shit, that’s all,” Pokey said. “So look, we
can’t be mad. He said as long as we can keep the lil rent up, we can use the
lil building all we want.”
“Dog, remember when I went to court for the gun charge and said if
we ever make enough money to do the shit we want, we would give the game up?”
Fatboy was telling Pokey.
“Yeah, I remember that bullshit,” Pokey said, “but that’s before
we started making all this money. It’s too late to quit now, people depending
on us.” Pokey said. “We done came too far to turn back now. Just look around,
you got all the clothes, shoes you want. You got your own ride sitting on dubs.
You getting ya momma a house build out in the country. What else could you
want, nigga?” Pokey said,
“A normal life, nigga, that’s what. A nigga get tired of looking
over their shoulder every day, worrying about the police, the boys, and whoever
else may be plotting on a nigga.”
“Nigga, fuck the police, the kack boys, and whoever else think they gonna take a nigga shit.
I’ll die before that happens,” Pokey said, becoming angry.
“Look, dog, we are living good, but that shit don’t last forever.
Y’all know the saying us niggas die of three ways. We either get shot, die in
prison, or die from AIDS. And I ain’t trying to go out either way,” Flick said.
“So what y’all saying,” Pokey asked, “this it, this where y’all
niggas get off the train?” Pokey said, pacing back and forth, looking at his
two so-called friends.
“Man, we ain’t saying shit. All we saying is let’s get out while
we still can.”
“No!” Pokey screamed. “You niggas know the rules, GABOS. We in
this shit till the end,” Pokey said, with tears in his eyes.
“Man, you tripping,” Fatboy said. “What else can we do?” Fatboy
said, looking his dog dead in the eyes.
“Man, we can become the most feared niggas in this city,” Pokey
said.
“Or the most dead,” Fatboy said.
“Pokey, do you honestly believe it’s better to be feared than
love?” Flick asked his friends, who just look at him like he was crazy.
“Look, Pok. Fuck it, I’mma ride with you to the end. No matter
what,” Fatboy said.
“I just hope you see the light before it’s too late.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Pokey said, embracing his dog. “I
thought you was getting soft on a nigga,” Pokey said. “What about you, Flick?”
“Shit, if Fatboy still in, I’m in,” Flick said. “Boy, peer
pressure is a motherfucker,” Flick was thinking. “Look, y’all know since we
cope our rides, I’ve been going to see my shortie on the low-low, and I was
gonna tell y’all the night Pokey took me to see my shortie. But I forgot you
talking ’bout the same night I went and saw Rosie,” Flick said.
“Yeah, dog, that night. Well, look, my girl Shakia told me she was
pregnant, and having a nigga shortie. She’s three and a half months or four
now. The baby is a girl, we already got a name.”
“What is it?” Flick asked.
“Tykia,” Fatboy said, smiling.
“Tykia, Tykia. What kind of name is that?” Flick asked.
“Nigga, it’s a name.”
“But congratulations, nigga. Nigga, this should be the main reason
you wanna stay in the game. So you can give ya daughter all we never had,”
Pokey said.
“Yeah, I’m feeling that. I just don’t wanna end up missing out on
my first child’s life, that’s all,” Fatboy said. “But I’m in.”
“So I’m the god daddy, right?” Pokey said.
“Yeah, man. Y’all both the god daddy. So pay up that cash,” Fatboy
said, “the baby needs Pampers.”
“Nigga, the baby ain’t here yet.”
“Stupid, it’s better to be sorry than late,” he said, laughing.
“All right, man. Let’s do this. We ’bout out of everything, so
I’mma get into contact with my Uncle Sico and see what he can do.”
“All right, dog. Do that,” Fatboy said.
“I guess we ain’t gonna stop making money, until these crackers
run outta trees!” they said, laughing. As Pokey made his way to call his Uncle
Sico, “Hey y’all, go ’head and do y’all while I holla at this nigga right
quick,” Pokey said, picking up the phone. Five minutes later, there was a knock
at the door.
“Hey y’all, cover that money up right quick,” Pokey said, while
talking to his uncle. “You never know who that is,” Pokey screamed.
As Flick went to look out the window to see who that was, the door
came crashing in with three niggas in masks yelling, “Nobody move, nobody get
hurt!”
“Damn, we got caught slipping,” Fatboy said, trying to make a
slight move for his piece. But before he could, the tallest of the three masked
men put a gun to his face and said, “Nigga, don’t be motherfucking superhero,
unless you ready to meet the maker,” he said, pushing the gun in his face. As
he snatched the gun from Fatboy’s hip, “Let me get this, you won’t need it no
time soon,” the nigga said and smiled.
“Yo, dog, what you want me to do with this nigga on the phone?”
“Nigga, what you think?” the fat kid said. “Make the nigga get off
that bitch.”
“The easy way or the hard way? Nigga, hang the motherfucking phone
up,” the masked man said. As Pokey kept right on talking, the nigga hit him
dead in the head with the gun. “Nigga, you think I’m playing? Hang that
motherfucker up, or next time it’s gonna be the bullet that hits you in the
head.”
“Pokey, hang the shit up!” Flick said, worried ’bout his friend,
as he saw the blood gushing out his head. Pokey looked at Flick and hung the
phone up.
“Now check that nigga for a piece, and that one too,” the fat
nigga said, pointing at Flick. As the masked man searched them both, they found
a piece on Flick but none on Pokey.
“All right, dog, find something to tie this niggaz up right quick.
And hurry up ’cause you never know who the nigga was talking to over the phone,
so we gotta move quick.” As one goon ran in the room, he came back ripping up a
sheet. With the ripped-up sheets, they tied Pokey, Fatboy, and Flick to three
chairs.
“Now listen, we can do this one or two ways. The easy way is y’all
tell us where all the money is, and we out. Nobody gets hurt. If you don’t, we
kill all y’all, and tear this bitch up till we find the money,” the masked man
yelled.
“Nigga, fuck you,” Pokey said, spitting blood and spit at the
nigga who made the threat. “Do what you gotta do, but we ain’t telling you
shit,” Pokey said in pain, wondering how them nigga couldn’t see all the
fucking money covered up under a blanket ’cause they didn’t have time to put it
in the stash spot.
“Look, let’s talk to these nigga before we kill this stupid-ass
nigga. Man, I’m pretty sure y’all love ya lil friend over there, but if y’all
wanna see him alive, y’all better start talking.”
“Nigga, fuck y’all,” Fatboy and Flick said. They already knew they
would make it outta this alive. “’Cause if these niggas came to kill, we would’ve
been dead,” they were thinking.
“Do what y’all gotta do,” Fatboy said.
“Is that so?” the fat kid said, taking his fire and putting it to
Pokey’s head. “Y’all think this is a motherfucking game, huh? That’s what y’all
think,” the fat kid said, slapping Pokey with the fire, knocking him out cold
for just a second. When Fatboy and Flick seen that, they tried to get up outta
their seat and help their dog but realized they were tied up.
“Man, chill the fuck out,” Flick said, worried ’bout his dog who
wasn’t moving.
“Let me ask y’all a question, which one more important, life or money?”
Neither Fatboy nor Flick said anything, they just kept their eyes
on Pokey who was starting to come through.
“Niggas, I asked y’all a question.”
“Yeah, and your answer is money makes the world go round, so
without it, nigga, fuck life,” Fatboy said.
Then the fat kid rushed Pokey and started hitting him all over the
head with his fire, “Niggas, do I look like a nigga who gives a fuck about
y’all lil friend?” the fat kid said, breathing hard and heavy. As he eased up
on Pokey, his head dropped to his chest, with blood coming from everywhere.
“Now look, niggas. This the last time I’mma ask y’all, where the motherfucking
money at?” the fat kid said, cocking his gun.
“All right, man, chill, we gonna tell you. Just chill out,” Flick
said. “Man, the money is—” Just as Flick was about to tell the niggas where the
money was, Sico and Mr. Big ran in the house, guns pointed at the two niggaz
they see first.
“Nigga, if y’all wanna make it outta here alive, drop that shit,”
Mr. Big said.
“Yeah and if y’all wanna see this nigga alive again, drop y’all
shit,” the fat kid said, pointing the pistol at Pokey’s head, who was bleeding
badly. When Mr. Big saw Pokey tied to a chair and bleeding damn near to death,
he blinked out and grabbed the closest nigga to him and put his gun to his
head, and Sico did the same.
“Now we got a Mexican standoff. Look y’all got about five second
before we turn this bitch into a blood bath,” Mr. Big said, knowing the kids
were scared.
“Yo, Rico, let’s just go, the niggas said they gonna let us live,
right?” the tall kid was asking Mr. Big.
“Yeah, I’mma let y’all go.”
“Man, nigga, shut yo punk ass up,” the fat kid said. “You think
these nigga gonna let us live? Nigga, you stupid as fuck!” As the fat kid was
talking, he never really noticed Mr. Big ease up closer and closer.
“Nigga, I ain’t leaving without the money,” Rico said, slobbing at
the mouth. “I came for one thing, and I ain’t leaving till I get it,” Rico
said, looking around. “Now where the money at, before I put a bullet in this
lil niggaz head,” Rico said.
“Man, I got all the money you need,” Mr. Big said. “Just let the
lil nigga go, so we can get him to a hospital.”
“Nigga, fuck this nigga,” Rico said, slapping Pokey with the fire
once again. As Rico was about to slap Pokey again, Mr. Big removed his fire
from the kid he had in front of him and opened fire on Rico, hoping not to hit
Pokey. As the gun sounded, Rico slowly grabbed his chest and stuck his finger
in the hole, where the bullet opened a hole the size of a golf ball. When Rico
realized he wouldn’t make it, he tried with all his might to take somebody with
him, but he couldn’t pick up his pistol. As he realized his body was shutting
down, he fell to the ground. With one last try, he tried to raise his pistol,
but it was to let Mr. Big step over him and put a bullet in his head.
As Fatboy and Flick watched all that went on, they noticed the one
kid Mr. Big let go of reaching for a pistol on the floor, so they yelled out,
“Mr. Big, watch out!” But before the kid even got a chance to move, Sico
already seen the move and opened up fire, leaving the kid sucking for his last
breath. As he watched the kid take his last breath, he turned round and shot
the other masked man in the face, watching him fall to the floor.
“Look, we gotta get these niggaz up outta here, and we gotta get
Pokey to the hospital,” Mr. Big said, untying Pokey and picking him up, placing
him in his arms, running out the door to his car.
Back in the house Sico was untying Fatboy and Flick, who couldn’t
wait to get loose. As they were freed, they both had the same thing on the
mind. “Let’s see who these niggaz are,” Fatboy was thinking as he made his way
to the tallest kid and took off his mask. He looked down at a dead man, as
Flick looked over at Fatboy, he said, “Dog, I don’t know who this is. The face
shot fucked him up.”
“Whoever it is, we ain’t gotta worry about no more though. Look,
y’all go ahead to the hospital with my nephew, I’ll handle this,” Sico said,
pulling out his cell phone, and dialing a number.
“You sure, Sico?” Fatboy asked.
“Yeah, lil nigga, I’mma handle the bodies. Now go ’head before Po
Po gets here. I promise I’mma handle all this,” Sico said, calling a few
trusted friends who would get rid of the bodies ASAP. “Damn, I know I shouldn’t
have put my lil nephew in the game. All this is my fault,” he said. “But shit,
that’s just life. I just hope he be all right, ’cause from the looks of it, he
took a beating,” Sico was thinking as he hung up the cell phone. “It’s a good
thing I heard all the bullshit them niggaz said while I was talking to my
nephew over the phone. And it’s a smart move my lil nephew made to stay on the
phone, so I could hear the nigga scream, ‘You think I’m playing’,” Sico was
thinking to himself. “Or my nephew and his two friends probably would’ve been
dead,” he was thinking. As he saw the black van pull up in front of the house,
he knew it was his two trusted friends whom he called the body removers.
“I’m glad y’all got here before Po Po,” Sico said, watching the
two niggaz load the bodies in the van. Without so much as a word, when the last
body was loaded in the van, the Mr. T-looking nigga turned around and said,”
Send the money to the same place,” as he jumped in the van and pulled off.
Sunday, September 10, 2017
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