TEARS OF RAGE

Chapter 11

The idea of avoiding attention went out of the window once D-Money and Kenny emerged from the woodland.

D-Money was bleeding noticeably, stumbling beneath the weight of the money in the duffle bag that he was carrying.

Kenny had to assist him to the car, toss the duffle bag in the rear, and drive them from the apartments with a cluster of witnesses watching their movements.

Police investigators were bound to make a sweep across the area and question all potential witnesses.

No one made a move to help them, ask questions, or do anything beyond pretending to be so absorbed in their own affairs that no one else existed.

With the blare of sirens emanating from the direction in which they were fleeing, covered in blood, and carrying assault rifles, it was clear that they had been involved in something serious.

A dark blue Jeep Cherokee awaited them.

Having been stolen the night before, it was gassed up and ready to aid them in their escape.

After helping D-Money climb into the passenger's seat, Kenny drove from the apartment complex with extreme caution given to his driving.

D-Money was having a hard time handling his pain in silence.

"Come on, Shawty...you're going to make it aren't you?"

"Yeah. I'm good." D-Money replied, his head lolling in delirium.

"Can you walk?"

"I think the bullet must have knicked one of my damn arteries." he griped with a groan of pain.

"Just help me make it to the apartment, and I'm good." he added.

Kirkwood Kenny gave his comrade a glance of uncertainty.

D-Money's leg was saturated with thick blood.

His lips were chapped.

His eyes were shifting in and out of focus.

Kenny could see death stalking him.

Self-preservation required Kenny to consider how the bread crumbs could lead back to him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. " D-Money replied, his voice devoid of real conviction.

He had the pall of a man clinging to life, by the scrape of fingernails across the ledge of a concrete precipice.

One slip and it was lights out for his candle...

"Are you sure?" Kenny questioned, his gaze surveying the extent of his friend's injury.

There was too much blood for him to ignore the possibility that D-Money represented a major liability to their safety.

When the cops began their investigation, they would find forensic evidence that would connect D-Money to the scene, Kenny knew.

The blood shed at the scene, would become a bread crumb, to lead the cops to D-Money...

And he would be the only link between them, and the bank heist, Kenny reasoned in silence.

Self-preservation allowed him to make a difficult decision, without the pangs of regret...

D-Money was the biggest threat to his anonymity and freedom.

To take him to the hospital was out of the question.

To involve anyone else into the problem, would expose himself to unnecessary attention, and bring into play another potential witness.

None of those were viable options.

At that point, it occurred to Kenny that he was in sole possession of over a half of a million in cash.

With no one capable of exposing his involvement in the heist, except D-Money and Swaylo, it was time to start making some difficult decisions, he reasoned.

If D-Money were to be removed from the roster of the living, and Swaylo were to somehow come up missing, there was no one else alive that could incriminate him.

Broderick could talk to the cops about what had been planned, as a means of retaliation for the murders of his sister, Shonda and his cousin Pluto, but he could not place him at the scene.

He was in jail, during the time of commission, for the crime.

"You've lost a lot of blood, Shawty... Are you sure that you don't want me to drop you off at Grady, atleast you'll be able to get that leg looked at."

D-Money understood what Kenny was insinuating...

If he couldn't keep up, then there was no longer a reason to concern himself with the money.

It was time to sever ties with the anchor, that kept the ship from disappearing beyond the horizon.

And according to the rules of the game, in which they played, Kenny was not required to help him reach the hospital, when such an action could precipitate his own capture.

When Kenny touched a hand to his friend's shoulder, it was out of sheer unspoken gratitude.

D-Money did not know it at the time, but he would be Kenny's sacrifice to establishing a new life.

"I'm good to go," he groaned with a grimace of pain.

"I just need to get inside of the apartment, and stop the bleeding."

"Okay. Let me run the bags up, and then I'll double back to get you."

Kenny slid from behind the steering wheel, and gathered up the bags.

At the ten minute mark he came back, carrying a dark blue blanket that he used to conceal the blood on D-Money's jumpsuit.

D-Money was barely conscious.

His breathing was faint.

His gaze was devoid of its usual brightness.

Once Kenny helped D-Money into the isolated confines of the apartment he set about tracking down Swaylo.

At that point, all he had was a nickname, and an area in which Swaylo was known to frequent...

But a man with money and a mission, was difficult to deter.

Swaylo was the last man standing, and Kirkwood Kenny was intent upon knocking him down like a bowling pin.

And considering that the cops would be initiating the first phase of their investigation, there was not a moment to be wasted.