Gangs Aren't My Style (A Black Death Novel)

Chapter 39 - Out of Sight, Out of Mind

Gangs Aren't My Style

Book I of the Black Death Trilogy

PART THREE :: Cast Your Armor Down

Chapter 39 - Out Of Sight, Not Out Of Mind

The sound of snarling dogs erupted from down the hall. Their barks and growls echoed off the walls and streamed into the room where James still sat, surrounded by his men in the gang's conference room.

He froze, all words he was speaking as well as those he meant to say fleeing from his mind with one great sweep. The sound was coming from the rear of the base, the direction in which his sister had disappeared.

James wasted no time in excusing himself. "I'll be back," he hurriedly said to the men in the meeting, his chair scraping across the floor as he stood up.

Once out the door, his pace became a full-out sprint. The growls grew louder and more menacing with each step that took him closer to the back door of the base. And the panic increased when he saw the back door cracked open.

James blindly grabbed at the doorknob and yanked it open with so much force that it screeched and strained against its hinges. Fear seemed to pollute every vein of his body. His dogs had been trained to take the offender down and then, if that person kept fighting, resort to any appropriate measure needed to keep them down, even going for the throat.

James stopped dead in his tracks, his breath coming out in pants as he stared, frozen to the spot. Ally was crawling across the ground, one dog's jaw clamped down on her calf. The other four dogs were rapidly gaining on her, blood lust clear in their eyes. James sucked in a startled breath through his teeth. Realization flooded him.

After a few close calls with burglars, he had started cutting down on the dogs' rations so they would be more vicious. To further the problem, when they caught people trying to break in, James would give them extra meat. They would do anything to obtain their reward and Ally fighting to get away would certainly not serve to create a recipe for success.

Then, one of his dogs captured his sister's neck in its mouth.

James did not stop to think, only raised his hand to his mouth and let a shrill whistle pierce out through the air. The dogs' heads immediately snapped to their master, recognizing the call, and they came trotting up to him happily. He watched, dogs laying obediently at his feet, as his sister shakily stood to her feet and took off for the fence at a limp.

It took nearly everything within him not to run after her. He only managed to hold himself back with the knowledge that pursuing her would only result in her getting mauled by his dogs; they would follow him in the chase.

She looked back with wild eyes to see if he was following her, her hair whipping around her face with the force of her frantic glance. James saw shock flash across her features before she turned away from him again and reached for the first rung of the fence. Even knowing that he wasn't pursuing her, Ally scrambled for the next hand hold as if her life depended on it.

A small, sad smile set James' mouth into a straight line. He honestly loved his sister and wanted to protect her but the knowledge that she was so desperate to escape him wounded him in a way he hadn't known possible. He might not have been the best big brother in the world but he did care for her like none other could.

It was with a heavy heart that he then watched her fling herself over the top of the fence in a graceful arc. She landed safely on the other side, still clinging to the metal rungs, and paused only a moment before beginning to slither her way down. She landed smoothly on her feet, even with her leg having been injured by one of the mutts laying at his feet.

Ally stood still then, facing her brother without taking a single step backwards. The wind blew her hair out behind her as it would a flag of independence waving above a fort that had been found victorious when the sun arose the morning after war.

"I will find you, little sister," James whispered, letting the wind carry his words to her.

A single tear slid down her cheek, catching the light of the moon before it plunged to the ground; before she turned away from him and took off running into the woods.

James stumbled on his feet when one of the dogs placed an insistent paw on his leg and playfully pushed him backwards. It lifted its head slightly, begging for treats. James sighed, raking a hand through his hair in frustration. Deciding to send someone out later with a treat for them, he gave the dog a pat on the head before heading back inside. His mind was numb and each step seemed to be a chore.

James stopped, suddenly unable to continue. He leaned against a wall in defeat.

"Why?" he shouted to the empty hall, a cry of complete and utter failure. "Why her? Why now?"

The exclamation was meant to be rhetoric but an answer came anyway.

"Because nothing good comes without adversity. You of all people should know this."

James whirled around in surprise. "Azrael? But I thought you were-"

"Dead?" The former leader of Black Death shook his head with amusement, eyeing his replacement. "That is what I wanted you to think. A gang leader never retires, yet I quickly found myself growing tired of the constant politics, spies, and fabricated alliances."

James eyed him, perplexed. "So what was so important that you would give up your anonymity to speak with me?"

He sighed, circumventing the question. "You always were my first choice of successor to the title. There was so much potential in you, still is in fact. I have watched the progress you have made with this gang since you took over and have seen my legacy living on in you. You make an excellent leader, you just have to learn to believe in yourself and to trust in your resources."

"Why are you here?"

"You get directly to the point, my boy," Azrael commented, "I suppose I can appreciate that in a man."

James sent him a sharp glare. The older man held up his hands in resignation. "I came to ensure that you would not allow your grief over you sister's departure to cloud your judgement as the leader of Black Death. I have already consulted your newest member and he offers a solution to this problem you face. I suggest you speak with him before the night is out. He should not be underestimated."

James looked down in consideration but by the time he looked up, the elusive ex-leader had already vanished as quickly and silently as he had come. Without any other thought of what to do, he decided to follow the man's direction and speak with his newest member. With any luck, he would have a plan of action by the end of the night and his sister back at his side in a number of days.