A Chapter from C-Murder’s “Death Around the Corner”

DEATH AROUND THE CORNER

A Novel By C-Murder

“If I cry, his blood will be my tears.”

The next day, Daquan awoke with a throbbing headache, and he couldn’t unknot his stomach. Even the smell of Grandma Mama’s gumbo didn’t give him an appetite for anything other than blood.

He showered and dressed quickly, then tip toed out the door, because he didn’t want to see Grandma Mama’s face, knowing what he had in his heart. Daquan went straight over to Nut’s and found him sitting on the front stoop, smoking a cigarette. They nodded a silent greeting, then Daquan picked up Nut’s Camels and lit one up.

“How we gonna do this?” Nut asked solemnly, like there was no question it was getting done.

Daquan blew a stream of smoke out, and replied, “Get us a fiend’s car, you know, grab them thangs and lay on the n***uh till we can creep ’im.”

Nut looked over at him. “You know where he stay?”

Daquan shook his head, “But we know where he be. Trust me, he won’t be too hard to find.”

Nut nodded in agreement and thunked his cigarette to the pavement. He got up and went in the crib, then returned a few minutes later, shirt bulging with the print of two gats, a nine and a .38. He handed Daquan the nine, which he tucked in his jean shorts.

“Let’s go see if we can get Ol’ School car.” Daquan suggested.

It didn’t take much convincing to get the old rusty Oldsmobile from the dope fiend called Ol’ School, especially after Nut offered him a hundred dollars for the whole day. Ol’ School had heard about how Black had openly disrespected Nut and Quan and his big cousin Jerome. By the look on their face and the bulge in their waist, he knew what they intended to do. He hated to see boys so young get caught up in the game that had drug him down, but he knew he was powerless to stop them, so he just told them, “Ya’ll watch yo’self, ya heah?”

Daquan got behind the wheel and started the fifteen-year-old engine—older than he was himself—then slammed the rusty door with a loud squeak.

For the rest of the day, they stalked Black from spot to spot. They first noticed him getting lunch from Mama’s kitchen. They kept their distance, never losing sight of him. The later it grew, the more anxious they became, and all Daquan could think of was what he had told his sister Diana, “If I cry, his blood will be my tears.” Daquan was living for the moment those words came true.

Black moved through his day, totally oblivious to who or what was in his midst. He knew Jerome was heavy, but Black felt safe because Jerome and the go hard n***uhs that rode with him were behind bars. In his mind, if Jerome had to send little n***uhs to get his paper, then he definitely didn’t have anything to worry about.

He didn’t know how wrong he was.

As the evening moved on, Daquan and Nut had followed Black to liquor stores, to gambling spots, to the Magnolia and back to Black’s dope spot; but each time, there was always a gang of people around. They finally caught a break when Black pulled up on Apple Street and blew the horn. It was dark by now, but Daquan could see the person coming out was a female. She sauntered over to Black’s Caddy, got in, then they pulled off. Nut cocked his gun and hissed, “I don’t give a f**k where he goin’. This time I’m smokin’ him.”

“I’m wit’ you. whody,” Daquan assured him.

They followed Black to the Rosham Red Motel and allowed him to get a room and go inside. Once he was in, they pulled close to the rear of the hotel and got out, looking around.

“So what, we just knock on the do’? What if she answer?” Nut asked, puffing on a cigarette.

“Naw Nut, we gonna make the n***uh come out to us to get it,” Daquan smirked.

“How?”

Daquan looked around the parking lot, until he saw a nice softball-sized piece of concrete, then went and retrieved it. “With this.”

Nut looked at him with confusion.

“One of us gotta be in the car, while the other one bust his car window then slide up under it. As soon as he come out, pull off so he’ll think the n***uhs got scared or somehin’. Then blast his ass, ya hear me?” Daquan explained, already knowing he’d be the one under the car.

“You drive,” Nut replied, gripping the gat like the grudge that was in his heart.

“Muhf**ka, you drive better than me,” Daquan lied. He wanted to pull the trigger as bad as Nut. “And if shit get hot, I’ma need you behind the wheel.” Nut thought about it momentarily, but shook it off. “Man f**k that. I wanna burn his ass!”

Daquan sighed hard. “Nut, just drive the f**kin’ car, aiight? I got this. I’ma handle it for both of us. Plus, you fatter than me, you might can’t even fit under theah.”

“Man, I…”

Daquan cut him off firmly. “Nut, we wastin’ time. Damn, n***uh gonna be done finished.” he huffed and walked away.

Nut paused for a moment, then went and got the car. Daquan crept up behind the Caddy and pulled out his nine. When Nut backed up behind him, he cocked back the rock, took a deep breath, and smashed the driver’s side window completely; making Black’s alarm go crazy. He quickly dropped and rolled under the car, feeling the heat of the transmission on his face.

“What the f**k?! Hey!” Black came out, shouting, as Nut skidded off around the building. Black was clad only in boxers, hard dick poking a tent in the material.

The sound of his own breathing was heavy in Daquan’s ears, and it felt like his heartbeat was beating in the fingers that he had poised on the trigger.

“Punk muhf**kas!”

“Baby, what happened??”

“Take yo’ ass inside!” Black demanded.

Daquan could hear Black’s bare feet hitting the pavement, coming closer and closer, until his toes were directly beside Daquan’s shoulder. Daquan closed his eyes for a second, then reopened them as he slid his torso from under the car, raised the gun, and fired twice into Black’s stomach as he leaned in the window to see if anything had been taken.

The girl, wrapped in a dingy white sheet, was only a few feet from Black when the shots cracked the silence, and she let out a piercing scream, seeing Black stagger back. Daquan came out from under the car and fired again, hitting Black in the chest, when he noticed Black had a revolver in his hand, one he never got to use.

As Black fell back on the concrete, Daquan stood over him and hissed, “Charge this to the game, n***uh,” then fired twice into Black’s skull, opening it up like a cracked egg.

The girl was frozen in horror, but her scream had brought a few people to the windows of rooms. Daquan didn’t think twice, but he regretted all three shots he pumped into her head, from almost point-blank range. By the time her body hit the ground, he had dashed into the safety of the darkness and jumped into the car with Nut.

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