The hulking gray building crouches on the edge of the island where ocean water licks a concrete wall, set there to break the water's entry onto dry land.
It looks like a puffed up spider body, eight gray legs reaching out from the top of its north and south sides, bending a short distance forward and dropping down on either side of gray metal walls for a grip on rocky ground, crawling with snaking green vines.
Boss Man could still hear the twist'n screams of that uppity rich guy who'd held the title to this building. The fire from Trip's electric stick had sent his hand a scramble'n, signing away ownership of the warehouse to Boss Man.
A few bills slip'n into the title officer's hand settled the matter an' the title paper was entered all proper into official books—sold to one Luis Pierrelus. Me! Boss Man.
Today, Boss Man's new warehouse would say some-thin' to the gang chiefs about his abilities.
He'd be demand'n that they be join-in together and form-in a new party. It'd be a proper challenge ta the so called government that be try'n to rule this pearl of an island. An island that'd been tossed like a green salad into a bowl of twist'n buildings and human suffer'n' by a powerful earthquake. This tumble'n of buildings and people into a crumble'n death had given Boss Man a new door to be open'n.
Boss Man's eyes take a good look at the hollowed out monster of sheet metal quaking with the echos of a haunting wind rolling across the bay. Sunlight be working its way through the metal walls, dust covered windows playing with spiraling spider webs grabbing at gray metal corners.
A couple a doors had been unlocked, an invite to some gang chiefs for entering with their security muscle.
"What's up, Boss Man?" The words, boosted by a cynical tone, sounded out from the deep throat of the Perle chief, Addras.
"There be a knife stick'n into this island an'...we gots ourselves a chance to pull it out," Boss Man's words echo across the walls and point to the scoffer—Addras.
"Just what be the knife?" Addras asks, a lightening tattoo pulsing on his neck.
"This be the so called president who's threat-nin to round up all the gangs, lock' em up and loose the key," Boss Man bounces his eyes off of each unsettled face of Addras' two men.
"Whose go-in to be the head man of this new gang?"
The words march out of Anddras' fat lips. He takes a few strides forward and settles his face nose to nose with Boss Man.
"We'll vote!" Boss Man replies with a snarling tone offering his words.
"What's goin' to stop one of us from come'n round some night an' take'n back the vote with a knife between the ribs...I asks?" Addras challenges
Addras! The name be grind'n in Boss Man's head. The sound of 'is name be make'n me shudder. Word on the street be that he's been cause'n some of the bloodiest murders from one end a the island ta tha other. Seems he's for hire and his proof for doin' his clients' dirty-hand-in work is a head in a box, delivered all proper with name and date be-in tattooed on the victims forehead.
"What-cha say to that one, Boss Man?"
Addras steps back into the company of his men's scowling faces. Their boots grind against the concrete floor. The clang of the metal door slamming behind them leaves no question about their thinking on the matter.
Addras be leave'n me an' my men stand'n in the yawn'n center of an empty build-din, where the ocean wind be rattle'n empty metal walls.
"We be need-din Lyla to get that Sam on our side!" Boss Man yells out into the empty building.
YOU ARE READING
Falling
General FictionWhat could go wrong on lazy trip to a tropical island? Sam will soon find out that volunteering at Grace's Kitchen hold more surprises than he could ever imagine. He is drawn into life changing struggles between gangs of vicious thugs and unseen pow...
