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This is only a taste of what’s to come.
Have a Merry Christmas,
ANTON NOVIKOV.
NOVIKOV BRATVA
With some trepidation, I lift my fingers away from the note upon feeling a powdery substance coating my fingers. I rub my thumb and forefinger together, feeling the texture and noticing that this isn’t the same consistency as cocaine.
This is something else entirely.
“Fuck!” I grunt, holding my hand and the letter as far away from my face and body as possible. I try to keep my breathing under control so I don’t inhale and speed up the process, but it’s so hard not to panic when you think you’ve just been poisoned. “Pres! Don’t come out here. Don’t anyone come out here. This shit is the Bratva, and the note I’m holding is covered in a white powder that isdefinitelynotcocaine.”
Everyone rushes to the door and halts as I drop my ass to the concrete and try to even out my breathing.
“Hoodoo, talk. What do you need me to do?” Hurricane calls out.
“Call 911. They’ll need to put a perimeter up around me and thoroughly wash and clean the area. I don’t know what the chemical is.” I glance at the drone to see some residue still in the hatch.Good. “They will need to test the residue, but it is some kind of agent. Tell them it’s only a small amount, but I expect it will be fast-acting. You need to get on the phone with them now… right fucking now!”
“Okay, on it. Raid is callin’ as we speak. What can we do for you, brother?” Hurricane asks.
The first thing I need to do is get rid of the evidence.
Because if the cops find it, then there’s no way we can retaliate.
Pulling out a lighter from my back pocket, I place the note on the ground and set it on fire, watching the smoldering pieces of Anton’s letter scatter in the breeze, ensuring there is no evidence for the police. Then I glance over to the hose on the side of the clubhouse and exhale. “I need y’all to head back inside and close the door. I have to wash myself to get whatever I can off me, but I have to come closer to the clubhouse to do that. I don’t want to risk this shit getting anywhere near you guys. Soplease…go inside and stay away from the doors and windows until the emergency services say it’s okay for y’all to come out.”
“Okay… how are you feelin’ before I leave. Anythin’ noticeable that we can tell 911?”
“Just anxious as hell. Tell them to hurry.”
“You got it! We’re right here with you, Hoodoo. Just holla if you need us.”
Nodding, I gesture for them to shut the door, but my eyes land on Maxxy, who’s staring at me. I weakly smile, and her lip quivers like she’s barely holding it together. Ingrid pulls her inside the clubhouse, and Hurricane closes the door on what feels like my inevitable fate.
Pulling off my club cut, I shrug out of it and place it on the ground by the drone. I remove my boots and socks, leaving them next to my cut, then unbuckle my belt, taking off my jeans and sliding them down my legs. I would take off my shirt, but I don’t want to risk moving any of the contaminants near my face, so I leave my shirt on. Luckily, it’s covering the fact I’m freeballing as I make my way over to the hose and turn the faucet as far as it will go. I don’t care that it is fifty degrees out—I need to get this shit off me.
Grabbing the preformulated bike wash, I squirt a whole bunch into my hands and lather them up, making sure to run the soap up my arms and onto my torso, even though I’m wearing a shirt. There’s so much soap, it’s probably overkill, but right now, I don’t give a shit as I grab the hose, turning it on me. The second the freezing water hits my skin, my breath is knocked from me. I gasp, automatically jumping from one leg to the other with the harsh sting, but I need to do this. So I keep washing, scrubbing up and down my legs, ensuring I pay particular attention to my fingers again and scraping under my nails to remove any powder that may have stuck.
Once thoroughly washed everywhere I can think of, I turn off the hose and head back toward the drone.
And I pace.
And continue to pace.
Walking back and forth.
Waiting.
Trying to register any symptoms that might be showing up. It feels like the emergency services are taking forever, making my anxiety levels go to a place I’ve never been before. I can’t seem to stand in one place. The urge to walk around increases, so my path gets longer, my feet pounding with each step. My face feels tight, so I start tensing my jaw to release the pressure.
My calf muscles stiffen, even jerking a little, making walking harder. “Fuck.” My breathing begins to quicken as I realize whatever this is, it’s starting to take effect. “Hurricane…where are the fucking emergency services?”I call out.
“On their way, brother. Hang on. Don’t do anythin’ stupid on us out there.”
“I’m tryingrealhard…” I trail off and remember I need to inform Hurricane about the note. “While I’m still functioning, I gotta tell you what the note said.”
“Conserve your energy, Hoodoo!” Maxxy’s voice shines through what is starting to feel like my last day on earth.
