Out a Order (18 page)

Read Out a Order Online

Authors: Evie Rhodes

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Suspense

BOOK: Out a Order
7.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
At a nod of Ballistic's head all the weapons from Rico's crew repositioned with Rico in the eye of the storm. The crew fastened on their dead leader who was still standing, but not for long.
Ballistic had bought off Rico's entire crew and had paid dearly for it, but this was his moment and he would receive a king's ransom from that which he worshipped, or so he thought.
Rico looked around at his crew to see nothing but the faces of enemies mirrored back. The ground in the Central Ward shook on that day.
Somebody had better pray for all the wrongs. Because on this day it only shook, but all that had gone before had been recorded. A storm is one thing. A tidal wave is another.
Rico couldn't believe his eyes.
He stared at each of them. Some of these niggas had eaten in his mama's house. Yet in the final hour, there was no loyalty, no allegiance. The darkness was in place and it would eat its own.
“What the . . . ?” Rico said.
Ballistic now stepped to the curb. He blew a silent whistle. His German shepherd leaped from the alley toward Rico.
Rico could see the slobbering dog with teeth like fangs and the red demented eyes charging at him. But he was helpless to do anything about it. Before he could make a move to try to play it out so he could go down by the bullets instead, the dog was all over him.
He went straight for his throat, ripping out his windpipe and tearing him to shreds. Shannon dove under a car. Marcus ran trembling for cover at the madness taking place.
Trey got in the wind trying to put some distance between him and the insanity spewing all over the street.
Ballistic watched coldly. He was remote, and so was Warren P. as they watched the dog tear Rico apart.
The Darkling arrived in the middle of the street, her black wings now spread far and wide, preening for the world to see. She had come to claim what was hers.
Ballistic kneeled in worship, thinking he had it like that.
Warren P. backed up off the turf.
Shannon stared in fascinated fear.
Marcus now knew this was what he saw on the day Jazz died.
Amidst the dying wails of agony emitting from Rico's body the Darkling spoke.
“You have too many misses, Darryl Ross Davis,” the Darkling said in its female voice, addressing Ballistic by his given name.
“Ms. Kesha got away. So did Trey.” She showed him a vision of Trey on bended knee abandoning his thug persona in search of the sacrificial lamb.
The Darkling was incensed.
She had her own boss to answer to. A deal was a deal.
She had been in quite a frenzy seeing so many of the seed of her enemy gathered in one place. She had mustered as much bad feeling between them as possible, knowing they would do exactly what they had done.
Disrespect each other, suffer one another, and kill each other.
That was what they deserved for what they had done. She had traded her soul for their payment. This one in front of her she was done with.
He was just a killing machine. He knew how to kill the body, but he possessed little to no knowledge of how to destroy the soul so that it became an aftermath she could feed on and turn over to Satan.
She looked deep into Ballistic's eyes seeing the blackness of his own soul that she would reap, but he had been unable to turn all the others. He had outlived his usefulness. Contrary to his belief, he was not eternal. With that the Darkling touched the match to the gasoline that had been trickling down the curb.
It led straight to Ballistic. The fire caught the hem of his pants turning him into a flaming ball of fire. Chaos broke out and the crews began to flee the area unable to believe their eyes. They knew when it was time to get out of there.
The Darkling would become folklore that lived on in the whispers of the Central Ward, but that those not present wouldn't believe. She had just snatched the soul of Ballistic when the sound she had forever heard materialized just behind her. Only this time it wasn't a memory. It was real.
The Darkling turned.
What she saw crumbled the facade of evil that she had lived as through the years. The black wings dissipated. The clothing, the veil, the shell of him/her, all evaporated upon the sight that was before her.
“Take your hands off her,” a voice whispered. The shell that had been Satan dissipated, freeing the real imprisoned woman.
Innocence graced her presence.
She ended up standing in her stocking feet as nothing but the woman she had been, before that terrible night that had locked her in with evil. Her only crime had been bearing an illegitimate child that she loved to distraction.
And so she had cursed those who had taken him from her as well as their seed. Being a mere mortal she had not known the true power of evoking evil and had therefore become imprisoned in it, as the spirit of Satan took over, wreaking havoc and stealing souls.
Freedom from this sin had not been hers until a voice whispered in all of its love, “Take your hands off her.”
Before her stood Aisha Jackson, the young girl who was only eight years old. The Darkling knew who she was, for it was she who had stolen her voice, so that she couldn't speak of her.
But more than Aisha standing before her was what she held in her arms. She held the bubbling brown bouncing baby boy whom she had birthed. He stared at her with recognition in his eyes.
Aisha had found him in death and was standing with her arms outstretched, handing the child to her. Putting an end to things. She had returned him to his rightful place.
The remaining few looked on and Shannon Davenport was one of them. Marcus had come out of his hiding place and was staring at Aisha. And Trey, who hadn't gotten far, was looking from a distance on bended knee.
All the rest of them were in the wind for the time being.
The Darkling ran her hands down the flesh on her body as though she couldn't believe it. Aisha handed her the child and she took him in her arms. “Two wrongs don't make a right,” Aisha said, her voice restored.
“Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord,” Mama uttered.
They had just witnessed the greatest love of all even in the midst of darkness.
A tear trickled down Ms. Dorothy's face as she evaporated in the mist to face the payment for what she had done. The baby gave a last howl for the past, the present, and the future.
That one cry was enough to restore mercy for the ones who were left.
Chapter 45
“
I
f you move I'll kill you,” Shonda said as she heard a noise at the entryway. She grabbed Tawney by the scruff of her neck, putting the gun to her head. Most likely that would be some of her boys checking up on things, but you couldn't be too careful.
It was a good thing she wasn't too, because in that instant the door flew off its hinges. Shannon Davenport burst through the door. He stopped cold in his tracks upon seeing Tawney and Shonda. Shocked confusion registered on his face.
Shonda smiled at him.
Shannon hesitated.
Marcus ran through the door behind Shannon.
Tawney saw Shannon hesitate, realizing that he didn't understand the fullness of the situation. She shouted out a warning. “Shannon, don't let her fool you.”
Shonda squeezed her neck tighter. “Shut up, Tawney.”
Tawney coughed.
She looked at Shannon with pleading eyes. Shannon observed his battered wife, as well as the condition she was in. He dug deep for another miracle that would keep him out of the flesh, delivering his wife unto him without more bloodshed.
Back in her room now, Aisha simply showed him the paper with one name written on it. That was all it took.
Mama, Papa, and Nana Mama kept their hands linked until the final straw of this evil had been banished.
Not heeding Shonda's warning on her neck, Tawney spoke up on behalf of the dead child she had lost. “She killed Jazz, Shannon. She had our house shot up. She had me kidnapped. She slept with you to get back at me.”
Shannon flinched on the last sentence, but truth was truth and now was not the time to dwell on it. He had to get his wife back without further damage.
Shonda flung Tawney to the floor.
She trained the Uzi on her. Momentarily she glanced at the noose hanging from the ceiling, regretting there wouldn't be time now to hang Tawney from it, unless, well, unless maybe she steered Shannon over to her side.
Shannon followed her line of vision. When he saw the noose and read her thoughts it was all he could do to keep from killing this woman.
She killed his daughter and now she was thinking about hanging his wife. She was insane.
Shonda looked coyly at Shannon. Sweet as honey she said, “She's lying.”
Shannon moved closer to her. She turned the gun on him.
Then she remembered she needed to keep Tawney covered. She turned the gun back to her. She wavered between the two of them. Damn, she wished she had two guns, one for each hand, and one for each of them, in case Shannon didn't comply.
Oh well. One would have to do under the circumstances. She decided to cover Tawney.
“Put the gun down, Shonda,” Shannon requested.
Shonda looked him up and down, remembering, then decided she'd better keep her focus. “I'm sorry, I can't do that. She's a sellout, man. You don't need her. You've got me.”
Shannon searched the depths of the insanity standing before him. He probed its recesses. “Did you kill my daughter, Shonda?”
Shonda wiped the sweat from her brow with one hand, while keeping the gun focused on Tawney with the other. She laughed nervously. It sounded like Shannon might be a little mad at her, but she'd fix that as soon as she got rid of Tawney.
“Naw, baby, it ain't like that. I didn't. I killed Tawney's daughter, not yours. But it's okay because we can make more.”
Shannon would have closed his eyes at the pain of her words, but that definitely couldn't happen.
In a singsongy voice Shonda mimicked Tawney. “Jazz did this and Jazz did that. Jazz did this and Jazz did that.” Her eyes glazed over. Foam now bubbled from the side of her mouth.
“You and I can be together without her in the way. I'll be making as much money as Tawney. I'm going to have her job now.”
Shonda tired of the charade. She had the gun trained on Tawney. She squeezed the trigger.
Shannon shouted, “Shonda, no!”
Marcus came out of his shock. He ran unthinkingly over to Shonda. He dove for her legs and bit her. The shot rang out in the air, removing Tawney from the focus of the weapon as Shonda shrieked from the pain of being bitten.
“You're out a' order,” Marcus shouted with tears in his eyes.
Crazed from his bite Shonda repositioned the gun, training it on Marcus.
Shannon dove on top of her.
A black hand rocked the cradle in their midst.
It was only an illusion. They say the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world, in this case the evil was no longer rocking.
Just as the shot was released Mama prayed in the spirit once again, “Take your hands off them.”
Tears ran in a stream from her eyes.
“He says you can't have them. Take your hands off our children, you beast.” The black hand disappeared from the cradle.
Then there was calm.
Papa, Mama, and Nana Mama all cried as they felt the tentacles of evil slip away as they tried to save the last child in association with this particular madness.
The fight went out of Shonda as the last words were uttered. The final door to her mind slammed shut. The Uzi clattered to the floor.
All of them lay sprawled on the floor. Shannon crawled over to Tawney, kicking the Uzi as far away as possible. He didn't even want to touch it with his hands.
He held Tawney in his arms. Marcus looked at him. He beckoned him over for a hug. The little boy had been through a lot. Marcus sat squeezed in between Shannon and Tawney in a circle of love.
Shonda sat up looking at them and what she would never have. All the fight had been knocked out of her. And in that instant her mind went totally blank. There would be no recall.
She gazed around as if she didn't know where she was or what had happened. There was nothing but a vacancy reflected from her eyes.
Campbell and Lombardo came through the door Shannon had crashed through. They assessed the situation.
Lombardo took a look at Shannon and a silent understanding passed between them. He gave a nod of respect to Shannon before placing Shonda in handcuffs and under arrest.
Campbell smiled offering Shannon his hand to pull him and his family up off the floor. Well, Marcus wasn't his son but he sure was family.
At her house Aisha leaned over her mother, who was sleeping on the couch. “Hi, Mommy,” she whispered, kissing her on the cheek. Nikki sat up in shock. She would never know the full story of what her daughter had suffered or why she had lost her voice.
In the course of things it really didn't matter.
Aisha had been an instrument in the fight to regain good.
Trey would later confess to the crimes of his gang life. The one that scarred his heart the most was Kesha's murder. He only confessed to his own participation. He wouldn't take anyone else down with him.
He decided he'd rather face his wrongs and pay in the flesh than reap a payment he knew he couldn't pay in the spirit.
From what he had witnessed he believed that while you were here you still had time. In this way when the time came he'd have a clean start.
There was just no way he was going out like that. His hands were not clean, he knew for that he needed to pay. That's why he was doing his time. But he was on bended knee that yet he might live.
And he sat on the cold, hard cement floor of his cell in a prayer of forgiveness every single night.
For his part Shannon Davenport would never forget what he had seen and how he had witnessed a power that had assured him that with one child and a pen he could surely win. That he could stop the river of blood from flowing.
Simply by his belief.
The walls had come tumbling down. Just like the Jericho wall, such were the walls in the hood. The misdeeds and evil were passing through the generations.
It needed to stop.
That was why he had gone into the storefront unarmed. He had decided to trust Jesus. And with that his faith that had at one time been challenged, as well as shattered, had been rebuilt and was now renewed.
Papa, Mama, and Nana Mama finally unlinked hands, knowing that all had been fulfilled for the time being.
Mama only wondered what would have happened long ago if she had uttered the words on the night of Ms. Dorothy's death. “Take your hands off them, you beast. Take your
hands
off them
.
”
 
 
You have been reading Out “A” Order.
We need to be mindful of the hand that rocks the cradle. I wish I could say that “you are at the end of the story” but alas, it is not so. I know you know that. All you've got to do is look around.
I did forewarn you that you would need to see with your spirit, not just with your eyes. I told you that upon this reading you had deemed to enter a different world.
I made it clear that it was a world that coexisted by its own laws. And that that world was in and of itself OUT A' ORDER!
Usually I type the words “The End” when I'm finished with a story. I can't even do that with Out “A” Order. I tried but I had to delete it.
I'll let you figure out when it's over.

Other books

Passion Blue by Strauss, Victoria
The Lady in the Tower by Jean Plaidy
Galapagos Regained by James Morrow
Roscoe by William Kennedy
Rough Justice by Andrew Klavan
The Lesson by Suzanne Woods Fisher
The Last Superhero by Cruz, Astrid 'Artistikem'
Weekend Surrender by Lori King