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wmembers pulled up in a brand-new cherry red BMW. Everyone ran over to the car, checking out the rims and the sound system the young dealer had installed.
“Malik,” Dante called out, “whatchu gon’ do?”
Al-Malik stood. He turned and looked at Dante.
“Come on, man, that ain’t nothing but a dead end. He ain’t even old enough to have a license. What you think gonna happen as soon as the cops pull him over?” Dante started to climb the steps, hoping Al-Malik would follow his lead. He breathed a sigh of relief when he looked back and saw Al-Malik behind him.
It was a constant struggle to avoid the life that surrounded them every day, but one way or another, Dante was determined to do it.
***
Dante and Al-Malik had just finished playing their third game on the PlayStation Diamond had somehow managed to get for Dante. He never found out how she was able to afford the expensive game system, but he was too thrilled to pry too deeply.
They were getting ready to start up another game of Resident Evil when they heard shots outside. Though it was something they’d grown accustomed to throughout their lives, both boys dove to the linoleum floor. Shouts could be heard outside.
When the gunfire ceased, the Dante and Al-Malik raised their heads, assuming the coast was clear. It seemed like the shots had come from where Trey was talking with the young dealers a few buildings away. After standing and walking over to the apartment window, they saw two bodies lying on the ground.
As a small crowd formed in front of the house, an eerie feeling overtook Dante. “Come on,” he said to Al-Malik as he bolted for the door.
Al-Malik wasn’t far behind. They practically jumped down the two flights of steps, busted through the front door, and ran down the handicap ramp instead of using the stairs. They ran up the street and squeezed their way through the crowd to see who’d been shot.
The teen that had shaken Trey’s hand earlier lay twisted on the concrete. Dante looked at the other body that lay by the curb and air escaped his body like a deflating balloon. The eerie feeling that washed over his body rang true. It was Trey. He made his way over to Trey and knelt down beside him.
Seconds later Al-Malik was kneeling as well. “Trey!” Al-Malik shook him.
Trey’s eyes rolled around in his head. He’d been shot in the right shoulder, and shock was evident on his face. He took a deep breath, trying to suck in air.
“Yo, who did this?” Dante demanded as he looked up at the sea of faces that stared at Trey.
No one answered. In fact, no one cared about Trey.
“Fuck that! My boy is dead!” one of the young dealers yelled. He still held a smoking gun from the shots he’d fired at the fleeing vehicle. He waved it around frantically, clearly upset about a fallen soldier.
The other dealers continued to rant and rave as well.
“Them niggas is toast!” one stated.
“Who was it?” another inquired.
“I think it was them cats from the Neck!”
“Trey, can you get up?” Dante asked.
Trey simply moaned and groaned, unable to speak.
“Yo, we gotta get him outta here,” Dante said.
Al-Malik, whose face was as white as a ghost, couldn’t move or speak. This was what he’d always feared about the game, and if he was unsure about going into the game before, Trey getting shot turned him even further away from that lifestyle.
“Yo, man, somebody help me get him outta here,” Dante said to no one in particular, realizing Al-Malik wasn’t going to be of any help to him.
“Yo, man, fuck that nigga! Let’s go buck off on these niggas!” the dealer who seemed to be the leader stated.
The crewmembers all concealed their weapons and began to pile into two of the cars, locked and loaded, and ready to do some retaliation damage.
Dante and Al-Malik remained there alone with a bleeding Trey as they listened to the sounds of an approaching ambulance.
FOUR
