The Apostles (34 page)

Once he was absolutely sure he hadn't been followed or noticed, Odell riffled through the contents of the envelope. He actually pissed on himself when he realized that he had in his possession certified cashier's checks in the amount of two hundred thousand dollars. The urine stain didn't matter, he was already wet from washing cars all day. Instantly he became paranoid. It was time to go home— his woman would know what to do with the checks. Wearing perhaps the biggest smile of his life, Odell started home.

He'd walked a block when his smile disappeared. He stopped and dug through his pockets. Finally he found what he was looking for. Out of his pocket he pulled a mangled, soggy business card—Detective Hargrove's. The least he could do was drop the police a tip on who'd killed Solemn Shawn—that was the least he
could do for two hundred stacks. He decided if he had to he would even go into the police station to pick the shorty out of the mug books. No, he was bullshitting himself. Wadn't no way he was going anywhere near the police station. Whatever he did would have to wait until tomorrow though; he had forty-seven dollars in tips he had to spend first.

This time as he walked swiftly, Odell's head was held high.

T
HE
EMT
LEANED OVER AND CHECKED
S
OLEMN
S
HAWN'S
pulse again in the rear of the ambulance. It was very faint—almost nonexistent. Skillfully he used his scissors to cut open the wounded man's shirt. He had to gasp and shake his head at the still leaking bullet wounds.

To his partner driving the ambulance, the EMT said, “No need to rush, Dave. This guy ain't gonna make it. Just another gangbanger going to hell.”

Without opening his eyes, Solemn Shawn coughed blood onto the gurney and the ambulance floor. Struggling, he croaked out, “A-A-Apostles don't g-g-go to h-hell. We g-go t-t-to heaven.”

The EMT let his training take over as he began to try to stabilize Solemn Shawn's vital signs. As he broke out an IV, he shouted, “Dave, get a move on, this guy might still have a chance!”

The ambulance driver switched on the lights and sirens and mashed the gas pedal to the floor.

But there was no need for sirens or speed as Solemn Shawn quietly slipped away to wherever dead Apostles go when they die.

O
TURNED THE STEREO IN HIS CAR DOWN
. “I
T'S BEEN CLOSE
to six months since dude been gone and these niggas is still pushing,” he said. He hoped too much fear wasn't evident in his voice.

Obviously there was because Vee barked, “Get yo panties out yo ass, nigga. You sound like a bitch right now. What you thought them niggas was gone do when somebody got rid of dude?”

“I'm just saying, Vee, them Assholes ain't playing since dude got offed. We thought them studs was gone fold up, but they been wiling out. Shid, look at Teddy. That nigga in a wheelchair for the rest of his life and he got to wear a shitbag. They fucked him up.”

Vee chuckled coldly. “Nigga, you up in here whining like you the one in the chair. Shid, that nigga is lucky. At least he still alive. I swear, you been acting like a real lady lately. Fuck them Assholes. All them niggas is gone be dead before I get through. I'm surrounded by soft-ass niggas. Just like that nigga Cave. Niggas be swearing they killers and shit, then when the pressure on they fold up. You know what, O?”

“What?” O asked as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. He just wanted to drop Vee off wherever he wanted to go and make it back to the safety of his apartment.

“If I ever hear you talking all soft and girly like this again I'm gone Cold War yo ass and feed you to the Apostles. You understand that shit?”

O didn't respond as he pulled up to a stoplight.

“Nigga, do you understand what the fuck I'm tellin' yo ass? I swear, sometimes you act like you slow or something.”

“Yeah, Vee. I hear what you saying,” O answered evenly.

“Good then, nigga. Don't let this shit come up again. If it do you gone see that I ain't playing wit yo motherfuckin' ass. Now take me to Sakawa's crib.”

As O turned the music back up, Vee reclined his seat even more and hoped that he had sounded more confident than he felt. Really he was only feeding off O's fear to make himself feel better. Inwardly he was frightened. After Solemn Shawn's death, the Apostles had decreed all-out war against his Governors. They had even sent a message that it wouldn't end until he, Teddy, and O were dead. They had almost delivered on their promise by catching Teddy and shooting him down like a dog. He survived only because he was wearing a bulletproof vest and was high off of raw cocaine.

On top of all that, someone saw Cave gun down Solemn Shawn; there was an eyewitness. Whoever it was had fingered Cave, causing Bull and Grove to quickly run him down. In a stroke of luck, they even managed to catch him with the murder weapon. He had told that goofy-ass shorty to get rid of that heater. Almost immediately Cave gave him up to the people, telling them he ordered Cave to kill Solemn Shawn or he would have him killed. He had been dodging the police for a while now, but they were getting closer. They had been to his house and all of his family's houses. He rationalized that his best bet was to turn himself in and get a bond, which his lawyer guaranteed he would be able to afford.

Lately he had been staying with Sakawa. In fact he found himself leaning on her more and more. Ever since he gave her the ring Solemn Shawn was carrying, he had pretty much gotten rid of the last of her inhibitions about fucking with him exclusively. If the ring didn't do it, when he brought the bulk of his wealth to her house,
140,000 dollars, that did. Sakawa was a motherfucker. She definitely had faded every woman he'd ever messed with.

“Gotdamn,” Vee breathed aloud as he thought about the way she had invited him into her mouth last night.

O leaned forward and turned the stereo down. “What?”

Slightly embarrassed, Vee scowled. “Nothing, nigga. Quit driving like an old woman and get me to my girl's house with yo punk ass. And take me around the back.”

O turned the radio back up.
I got yo punk ass
, he thought.
Yeah I got you. Stupid-ass nigga, you gone get us all killt. I got something for yo ass.

Vee broke through O's thoughts. “Nigga, watch where the fuck you going. The alley right there.”

“My fault.”

“I know it's your fault, nigga. And turn that gotdamn music down. I don't want every motherfucker and they mama looking out the window ‘cause of that loud shit when you dropping me off. I swear you get stupider and stupider every day.”

O said nothing as he turned the stereo off. He pulled up to the back gate of Sakawa's apartment building.

Before Vee got out, he said, “Make sure you have yo ass here at ten. I got to go see my lawyer. That means I got to be downtown by ten thirty at the latest. You got that?”

O stared straight ahead down the alley. “Yeah, I got it, Governor. I'll be here at ten on the dot.”

Vee got out and O drove away. A few blocks away he parked and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed a number and pushed the Send button. His party picked up.

“This is O. I want to talk,” O said on his end.

“What the fuck we got to talk about?” the voice on the other end rasped.

“Peace.”

“Nigga, I know you ain't say peace. When we tried to talk about peace, you motherfuckas ain't wanna listen.”

“That wadn't my decision. I wouldn'ta set up the meet if I didn't want to talk. That's why I'm calling you now to see if we can do something about this situation.”

“Why the fuck should we give you Goofies peace? Our man is dead, nigga.”

“What if I gave you Vee?”

“What, nigga? Stop playing fucking games wit me.”

Looking into the rearview mirror at his eyes, O repeated, “If I give you Vee will this shit be over?”

There was a pause. After a moment, the voice asked, “Let's just say that Vee was out the way. Who would fill his shoes?”

“Me. But I ain't on that beefing shit. I just want to get this money until my time comes, you know. A real leader doesn't lead his men to their slaughter.”

On the other end, the voice laughed. “You got that right, nigga. Long as you keep it like that, there can be peace. That is if what seems to be both of our problem is out the way. So when can we get at dude?”

“Tomorrow morning at ten o'clock. No bullshit. Old dude will be naked. No bullshitting. Is it a go?”

“Yeah, it's good. Remember our deal though, ‘cause I will,” the voice warned before disconnecting the call.

“Vee! Get up! It's time for you to go,” Sakawa said roughly.

“I'm up, I'm up,” Vee rumbled.

“No you ain't. You said you had to leave at ten and it's nine fifty.”

Rolling out of bed, Vee complained, “Why you just now waking me up?”

Sakawa pulled his pillows over onto her face. “Nigga, you lucky I did. I just got up my damn self.”

In the bathroom, Vee slammed the toilet seat up to relieve his bladder. He flushed and moved over to the face bowl. Grabbing a face towel from the rack he wiped his face. A quick toothbrush full
of toothpaste later and he was back in the bedroom pulling on his clothes.

He sat on the bed to pull on his shoes. “What you doing today, girl?”

“I got one class this afternoon, then after that nothing,” Sakawa said from under her mound of pillows.

“Well, I got some running around to do, then I'll be free later on. Maybe we can grab a bite to eat and check out a movie or something.”

Sakawa's response was a muffled grunt.

Vee's cell phone hummed as he stood up and picked up his fitted hat off the dresser. He flipped it open. It was O. “You had better been on time, nigga. Here I come.”

He slapped his phone closed. Before he headed out the back door, he pulled a banana from the bunch on the counter. Once he was out the back door and down the two flights of steps, he made for the back gate alongside the apartment building's garage. He stepped into the alley—no O.

“Where the fuck this nigga at?” Vee said aloud. “I'mma have this nigga fucked up if he make me late for my appointment.”

“O ain't coming,” Murderman announced as he rose up out of the open garbage Dumpster to Vee's left.

Without a word, Vee dropped the half-eaten banana and took off back the way he came. A few seconds later he came back walking with his hands in the air. Dante was following him, pointing a pistol at Vee's back.

Murderman hopped down out of the Dumpster.

“I didn't do it,” Vee began. “It wasn't—”

“Nigga, shut up!” Murderman commanded as he aimed his .45 at Vee's head and shot out the back of his skull.

Dante let his .40-caliber loose. Both large weapons punched neat, death-bringing holes into Vee's head and torso. Tires screeched as a large, old-school Bonneville shot down the alley. The driver squealed to a stop at the scene of the massacre.

“Get in, A,” Big Ant said from under the steering wheel. “That nigga dead.”

Dante ran and hopped in the front seat of the sedan that was in mint condition. Murderman knelt and glared into Vee's face, watching him die. He crossed himself with his gun hand.

“That was for you, SS,” he said to the sky. “Now you can rest in peace.”

“Bring yo ass on!” Dante roared. “You know the whole neighborhood heard this shit!”

Like he didn't have a care in the world, Murderman strolled to the car and climbed in.

Inside her apartment, Sakawa heard the shots and sat up in bed. She looked down at Vanessa's enormous engagement ring on her finger and thought about the money Vee had stashed in her apartment. “Hotlanta, here I come,” she said as she got up and began to dress.