Life After Death (7 page)

     “One of the strippers took us on a city tour , so we know where Fatima is . We are going in there to murder everybody and hopefully we will get her back. We don’t even know for sure if she still is alive so nobody concentrate’s on her safety. Keep focused on the mission at hand which is to murder every single person that is in the house.

    “We are also snatching anything that looks worth taking as well as leaving some of the drugs that I know we will find, around the house to make the murders drug related. This has to look like a robbery slash drug deal gone bad.”

     We all looked at one another – knowing that, in the last few months, we had had to kidnap a few stickup boy family members; and we never let any of them live – especially the stick up boys!

    “I know y’all ready to trip off of me, but I want to do this shit like some mafia movie shit. It’s twelve of us which means we splitting in two groups. There are four silencers, so that’s two in each group. In each group, the goal is for the two killers with the silencers to be the ones to shoot. That’s the goal. But if anything looks suspect, pull the trigger and think about what you did later.  I just figure less noise gives us a better chance of handling our business and everybody escaping.

     “ If you get caught and go to an Atlanta penitentiary for going against one of the most beloved hustlers in this city, you will die. Nobody gets caught tonight.  Just follow me and Red in, and the rest is for you to figure out while making smart, precise and brutal decisions. Nobody here wants to die or get jammed up, so we all should be on the same page. Right?”

     Everybody nodded their heads.  I looked at Redman, who was playing with his gun and staring off into space.

     “Redman, your turn to speak.”

     He looked at each of us in our eyes for a few seconds a piece before he sparked a blunt.

     “Not much to say other than survive and abide by the code if things goes sour. Anyone that may not survive this mission, please know that your families will be well taken care of. Anybody snitches, your family will catch the wrath until you do. Let’s go get my wife back and I appreciate each one of you for being here.”

     We piled into Redman’s and my car, and headed to the White House! I turned up the Snowman mix tape, and was surprised at how banging it was. Too bad it would be his last! It took us about twenty minutes to get there. We went hard and pulled up into the driveway with our lights turned off. Nobody slammed doors, and we all blended into the night as we crept to the back of the house.

     As we bent the corner, we froze because we saw a huge dude swimming in the pool. Redman leaned toward me and whispered “That’s big Tamar, Messiah’s brother. You probably didn’t hear about him because he moved to Hollywood where he still runs shit in Detroit. He lived on the same street as Tom Cruise.”

     I looked at Redman and frowned, not liking how it sounded – like he was riding this Negro dick. I then smirked as I was about to walk away.

    “At least he was able to enjoy his life."

     I walked quickly up to the pool and waited for him to get closer. As he was about to touch the wall, he looked up. His eyes widened and, for a big dude, his reaction was fast as hell. He shot to the bottom of the pool, and began to swim away from me. I aimed at him and squeezed the trigger sixteen times. As blood slowly began to change the color of the pool, he slowly rose to the top of the pool and began to float. We all then rushed toward the back door, and quietly entered the unlocked back door.

     We now stood in the living room behind two dudes who were playing 2k13. The other five dudes in the room were sleeping with Styrofoam cups sitting in front of them. I smiled because the dudes were thinking they were so on point; but look at them. Redman put his gun to one of the guy’s head, and I put mine to the other’s head; before we pulled the triggers, we smiled at one another, and then pulled our triggers at the same time. Fab and Pusha, the other two dudes who had guns with silencers, began to shoot the other guys in their faces.

     Me and my group then ran up the stairs, and ran into one of the strippers that had been with us last night. She froze, and before she could scream, I shot her three times in her face. A naked dude carrying a chromed out Ak-47 came running out of a room. Fab caught him with three shots in his temple. Meek scooped up the AK and smiled. We walked toward a room that had Jagged Edge flowing from it. I slowly pushed open the door and froze.

     There was Fatima, riding who had to be Messiah. She had her handcuffed  hands flat on his chest as she rose up to the tip of his manhood and slammed herself on him.  As she was slowly swirling herself back up his wood, her neck suddenly turned toward us. Her face reacted, but her body didn’t. The sly smirk that she hit us with let us know she was about to do something.

Somebody must have gone and gotten Redman because he brushed past me and entered the room.

    “Fatima, get up off that bitchass nigga so I can murder him.”

     She looked backwards and smiled sinisterly as her eyes locked onto Redman. I instantly felt fire blaze through my veins as I stared into her two, swollen, terribly black eyes. She quickly pulled a box cutter from underneath her pillow, and made his throat smile. For a few seconds, he didn’t realize what happened. Then his eyes popped wide open as he grabbed his throat. I smiled as blood began to seep through his fingers. Redman walked up to Fatima and handed her his sharp ass buck knife as he bent over and kissed both of her eyes. She slowly turned back toward Messiah, and lowered the knife to his face; when the tip was resting on his cheek, she slowly began to push it in. When it was half way in, she snatched it out and began to stab him repeatedly until her arm couldn’t swing any more.

     We all were stuck because this is not the type of murder that majority of street dudes do. We blow brains out, and sometimes that’s messy, and sometimes it’s not. Her entire body was covered and dripping with blood. He no longer had a face – just bones and blood. Redman helped her off him, and tried to help her wipe his blood off of her. She smacked at his hands as she got dressed.

     “Nah Red, I need his blood to stay on me for a while. I wish I could kill that bitch again.

Somebody see if that whore’s breathing.”

     Nobody moved. Redman grabbed her around the shoulders and they began to walk out.

     “Big Bro, we heading to the car.”

     I nodded to him as they disappeared. I then looked at all of my killers.

     “Aiight, grab whatever has value and keep what you take.”

     Everybody took off out of the room at the same time. Me, I stayed in the room, hoping that a major stash was in there. I walked into the walk-in closet and just laughed. Sitting six feet high was a huge safe. On top of it were two stacks of bricks that rose close to the ceiling. The safe was open, and it was completely filled with cash. I knew that they had cake, but not this much! I called to everybody. It only took a few seconds for everybody to arrive, standing there looking at the safe. I turned toward them.

     “Yo, me and Redman ready to disappear for a while, so this shit is for y’all to get on top and never look back. There are forty three bricks. That’s four bricks a piece, and y’all split the three remaining bricks. There are four shelves of money. Me and Red get three shelves, and y’all split one.”

       My petty ass also grabbed some clothes – and not just any clothes. I grabbed some Dussault Apparel’s Trashed jeans; I had read somewhere on the Internet that each pair cost two hundred and fifty stacks. He had five pairs and some Gucci jeans. I also grabbed a few of his shoes. All of us then slipped back into the cars, and slid off as if we hadn’t just left behind over ten bodies.

     Fatima knocked on our hotel door. Samantha answered it and, after taking one look at her face, burst into tears. Redman gently guided both of them to his car and we all headed to Aunt Terry’s room. We put all of our bags on the luggage cart, told the bell man to kick rocks, and we took it up ourselves. By the time we got to the room, all three of the girls were in the room crying. Redman was sitting in front of the door, smoking a blunt of Loud to the Head. We laid out all of the shit that we had gotten out of the house, and put it in separate piles. I ordered a king’s breakfast for everybody. We ate, smoked and drank until we all passed out.

Chapter 24

     For the next ten days, we had a ball in Atlanta. We hit up Mardi Gras, The Cheetah, and Magic City, which are the top strip clubs in Atlanta.  Redman and Fatima tried to fuck Lisa Ray, who we all had met at Justin’s. She wasn’t having it though. They ended up fucking a famous porn star who I think was Jada Fire but it was dark at the strip club, so I didn’t get a clear look at her.  We sent Aunt Terry and the goons back to B-More because they were dying to turn it up. We paid attention to all of the news about the deaths of Messiah and his entire click, who were beloved by the streets and hated by the law enforcement. They had no leads, so we were feeling good!

     After selling Putt and his click fifteen bricks, we decided to go on a world tour. Through Putt’s connections, for all of us to get fake ID’s and passports, we kicked out twenty five thou. Before we headed out of the country, we had to meet with a crooked accountant in Miami so we could pay him two hundred and fifty thousand to transfer the five or so million we were lugging around into offshore accounts.

     It took us about six hours to get to Miami. I impressed everybody when we checked into The Setai, which is in the heart of South Beach. I had read about this hotel and fell absolutely in love with it. It definitely lived up to it being one of the ten most expensive hotels in the Country.  We hit the two king size beds as soon as we entered the room. When we awakened, we ate, smoked, and then got super fresh so we could show off in the Miami streets!

     That night, we hit Tootsie’s Cabaret, Playmates, and Scarlett’s Club. We dropped over fifty thousand dollars in those three spots! They say that money can’t buy happiness! Shiit, I’m happy as the next republican who knows Obama can’t run anymore.

      The stress of me presently being on the run had been a very heavy burden. Just knowing prison could potentially be on my horizon, and that my freedom could be snatched back from me had me on the edge.  I decided that I was going to live to the fullest until my last breath! The suffering that prison had produced did not coincide with my future plans. I realized that, for me, death would be a way better solution than re-entering those prison walls!

     I rented a black on black Porsche 911 Turbo from Auto Boutique. Two nights before we were scheduled to take a yacht to Cuba and travel the world from there, I took Redman out for a drive with him thinking that I wanted to show off for him in the car. No more than a few minutes later, I threw the list of addresses onto his lap. Out of the corner of my eyes, I watched as he first looked at it then he reluctantly picked it up. His eyes were instantly drawn to the address that was circled with a red crayon. The moment he saw “Miami,” he cracked a smile and put the list on his lap. Our eyes locked and he spoke up first:

     “Listen Big Bro, I need this murder to be your last for a little while. We are catching murders as if it is legal. I want to go on our world tour and just relax for at least a year. Can we chill for a year after this last body? We have enough money to go on a world tour and live comfortably forever or at least a very long time.  Murder’s always complicate things, so I need you to chill on your blood thirsty, Hollywood type revenge shit.”

     I laughed as we gave one another a handshake and a hug. I picked the list back up.

     “This is Mike Dun. I have to kill this fake God. Then I’ll be finished. That’s my word and you already know that my word is my bond.”

     He put in Biggie Smalls first album and turned up the volume as he began to get the gloves and mask out of the bag, and put them on. When we got to the street where our next victim lived, I parked right in front of the house. That’s just how I felt as I put my mask and gloves on. I was supremely confident in our abilities to do what we needed to do without no screw ups, handcuffs or our deaths.

    We calmly walked around to the back of the house like we belonged there. Because it’s always hot here, nobody has their sliding glass doors closed. We both entered the house without making a sound. We followed the sounds of Bon Jovi, which led us to the living room. Sitting there, getting his cock sucked by a naked transvestite, was no other than The Honorable Mike Dun, who was the judge who sentenced me to die. This was the guy who, through clear bias against me, made it easy for the State to convict me of a crime that I hadn’t done. This dick head had told me that death row was created for monsters like me. Now I was going to send him where the real monsters reside, --HELL!

     The changing of the atmosphere in the room caused him to look up with fear-filled eyes. I could see in his eyes that he instantly recognized me. The tranny felt the new murderous vibe in the room, so he jumped up screaming and tried to run out the back door. Bon Jovi’s Blaze of Glory drowned out his screams and three bullets from Redman’s .380 silently entered his back,  burned though his vital organs until he fell flat on his face.

     I handed my gun to Reds, pulled out a replica acrylic judge’s gavel, and swiftly walked toward Mike Dun. I was going to violently murder this judge not just for myself but for the many that was made a victim of the justice system simply because the judge allowed it. He was going to die for showing white people compassion while he only displayed anger and disgust toward black people. More importantly to me, he was going to die for attempting to kill me.