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I realize with shock just how much the community has been affected by the Serpents’ presence when I see more than two dozen men and women standing around when we walk in.
“We came,” Lora says, stepping forward. She’s been working at the Quik-Mart since her son died a few years ago. She looks better than she has in a while, a fire in her eyes as she stands in front of me.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask. She nods, along with some of the others.
“We grew up under the regime of the old Serpent Syndicate,” she says. “Some of us were kids when they were here last, and we remember what they did to us.”
“They attacked my father’s store,” Jin Park says, his voice laced with venom. “It was only by sheer luck he was at the dentist that day. I want them to pay for destroying our livelihood.”
I stand in front of the crowd. “We know we’re asking a lot of you. The cops think we’re already a gang of hoodlums, and this ain’t gonna help. You’ll have targets on your back now. If any of you want to back out, feel free to leave.”
No one moves.
“You’re not in this alone,” Joe calls out. “I may not be as young as I once was, but I’m a tough old bastard. Their reign of terror ends now. Whatever you need from us, we’ll do it.”
“The Blades aren’t just a gang,” I say. “We’re a family. And as a family, we protect our own and keep them safe.” I produce a red bandana, holding it out for Jin Park.
“Take it,” I order. “But remember, now that you’re part of this, there ain’t no turning back.
Jin accepts it, his fingers trembling slightly as he takes it in his grasp. With a determined nod, he ties it around his wrist, the red fabric standing out starkly against his skin.
The rest of the men and women present come forward and swear their loyalty to the Blades, each one getting a red bandana as well.
“The first thing on the list now that you guys are part of the crew is that we’re officially declaring war on the Serpent Syndicate,” I tell them. “They’re public enemy number one. Any Serpents you see, don’t hesitate to eliminate them.”
With that, the group slowly begins to disband. Some exchange solemn nods, while others linger, their expressions a mix of determination and apprehension. Outside, the distant wail of sirens serves as a grim reminder of the dangers that lie ahead for us all.
“There's no going back now,” I say, my arms crossed tightly over my chest as I fix my brothers with a steely gaze. “We're ready for war.”
40
SIENNA
As I watch the boys leave, a knot forms in my belly. I can’t help the mounting anxiety at the thought of the three of them confronting the Serpents again.
The stories of the boys’ time at the Haven Center come back to mind right now. That place was a beacon of hope for them at one point. The presence of the center made a difference in the lives of the members of the community too, rebuilding what was lost after the fight with the Serpents.
Pulling out my phone, I start looking up more info about the center. Dr. Thornton's vague answers left me with more questions, and I want to get to the bottom of it. It's not just about uncovering the truth; it's about seeking justice for those who depended on the center's services and were let down by its demise.
Why haven’t I looked into this myself yet? I should have done that instead of talking to Dr. Thornton since he didn’t seem to know either. An article catches my eye and I start reading, my eyes widening as I scan the page.
“Misappropriated funds cause youth center to close?” I read out loud to myself. The article mentions the director, Lorna Hull,so I switch tabs and look her up, trying to see if I could contact her. She lives just on the outskirts of town, not that far away from here. If I leave now, I could talk with her before the boys get back.
My heart is pounding in my chest as I grab my keys and jacket and head out the door. It’s dark outside, the chirping of crickets and the faint smell of a nearby bonfire permeating the air around me.
A faint whisper at the back of my mind wonders if there's more to Dr. Thornton's involvement than meets the eye. He was there when the center was open and when it closed down, and then he was involved when the plans to reopen the center were developed.
The urge to dig deeper spurs me on and I drive as fast as I can, praying the boys don’t come home before I get back.
When I arrive, I look at the address again to confirm. She lives in a tiny, run-down apartment building next to a Quik-Mart.
The parking lot is cracked, weeds poking through the pavement. Trash litters the ground and when I inhale, I can smell stale cigarettes and urine.
Wrapping my jacket more tightly around my shoulders, I walk up the concrete steps of the building and knock insistently.
Lorna opens the door, her weary eyes meeting mine. She’s a tall, slender woman with dark eyes and curly hair she’s wearing in a bun. She’s got on a hotel maid’s uniform and she glares at me. “I don’t want any magazines,” she says, ready to close it.
“Miss Hull, I’m not here soliciting,” I interject, blocking the door. “My name is Sienna Bennett. I’m working on a research project for Caspian Springs and I need to ask you some questions about the Haven Center.”
