TEARS OF RAGE

Chapter 26

Plagued by the pain of anguish, guilt, and fear, a person takes on a lot of pressure when they feel responsible for getting someone they love killed.

The thought that Big Nannah could be dead or dying, because of something that he had done, was driving Swaylo insane.

The thought that his grandmother would not make it, took on a completely different twist on the guilt spectrum. Swaylo sped through the streets of Atlanta, too absorbed in the argument raging in his conscience, to even notice the various collection of passing traffic.

The city surged past his window, as vicarious dark clusters of houses, illuminated shopping centers, and vacant office buildings.

His mental navigation was programmed for a single destination... Grady Memorial Hospital.

When the mind of a man gets imprisoned in a box of blame and bitterness, it's difficult to escape the guilt of knowing that an action taken is the reason behind someone suffering...

Especially if that someone is a grandmother, that had nothing to do with the murder games set in motion.

Sway berated himself repeatedly, tormented by the knowledge of his secrets.

To break his silence and speak about his involvement in the bank robbery, was akin to snitching.

Anyone outside of the actual participants could use that sort of information as a weapon against him.

When they arrived at Grady Memorial hospital, Swaylo decided to maintain his silence.

He pulled alongside the curb at the emergency room entrance and left the car for Charmaine to park.

Preoccupied with his grief and anguish, Swaylo never thought to scan the area. It never occurred to him that Kirkwood Kenny could be stalking him.

"What are you doing?" Charmaine exclaimed and gestured toward the pistol peeking up from his waistband.

The orb of activity around him came to life like the illumination of light in a dark basement.

The bustle of emergency room traffic was all around him, but it wasn't until that moment that his mind processed it.

There was an ambulance parked less than twenty yards ahead of them. Its emergency lights oscillating about the concrete canopy, as medics hurried a blood-covered patient through the doorway.

The sudden smell of engine exhaust, cigarette smoke, and urine began to invade his nostrils.

Aligned along with the two-lane admission ports into that part of the hospital, there were three cops posted near their police cruisers, talking.

Without thought or hesitation, Swaylo passed Charmaine the pistol and strode off toward the emergency room entrance.

"Charmaine, what's wrong with Swaylo?"

"I don't know yet, baby... But as soon as we park this car, we're going to find out."

Like most kids seeking the certainty and assurance of an adult, Dorian could feel the tension around him as he watched his big brother walk away.

The thought that he may be murdered within the hour had not crossed his mind...

But the mistakes that amateurs make when they engage in the murder game played by desperadoes, is what sanctions a person to be sent to the cemetery.

When the call was made, to report the shooting incident that had taken place in Eastlake Meadows, special agents Price and Wainwright were about to leave Shonda Williams' apartment complex.

"All units be advised... A call has been made in the 1600 block, for shots fired. Reports of a possible homicide from that location have also been made."

For the next few minutes, the police radio was alive with the chatter of information between the dispatch operator, and patrol units en route to the location.

Special Agents Price and Wainwright followed the police responders to Eastlake Meadows.

There was a large gathering of neighbors milling about the front of the apartment.

The doorway was open, and several teenagers were posted up along the porch.

They walked up to the first pair of police responders and asked what they had heard.

The cop gave a nod to the group of teens.

"They claim some psycho dressed as the Grim Reaper came up to the apartment and just started shooting."

The cop gestured toward the doorway, and both agents saw the body laid lifeless across the carpet.

"Looks like the old man tried to stop the shooter at the door. Kids say that the old lady was driven to the hospital..." the cop stated and shrugged.

"Haven't heard any word on whether or not she made it."

When Karen Carmichael saw Kirkwood Kenny pull into the MacDonald's parking lot, riding on three tires, broken windows, and bullet holes tattooed across the trunk and side panels.

It was obvious the moment that she saw him that he had been involved in a shooting incident.

But once he began tossing his duffel bags onto the backseat, Karen decided to keep quiet.

Intuition activated her survival instincts...

She was wise enough to know not to speak about a potential crime that he may have been involved in.

That might compel him to regard her as a threat to his freedom or inspire thoughts of betrayal.

By the time they pulled out of the parking lot, several police cruisers were speeding east on Memorial Drive.

Traffic pulled to the side of the road as if a wave were pushing sand against the surf.

"One last stop and we're out..." Kenny stated and laid the AR15 assault rifle across the rear seat as though it were a bouquet of roses.

Karen kept her eyes focused on her driving, not wanting to ask any questions.

When they pulled into the lot across from Grady's emergency room entrance, Kenny pulled the keys from the ignition and stuffed them in his pocket.

Seated in silence, Karen gazed up at the outline of the hospital against the darkened skyline.

Cradled in the grasp of chaos, Karen knew that she was treading on thin ice...and she did not want to make the wrong step.

After about an hour of waiting, Karen saw Swaylo emerge from a 5.0, and rush into the emergency room entrance.

Kenny reached into the backseat, grabbed his assault rifle, and stepped out of the vehicle.

"Sit tight." He told her, his gaze locked on the emergency room entrance."I'll be right back."