Sons of Mayhem 1

Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

He'd left his motorcycle at home today. This was a truck day. And most importantly it was a truck that had no connection to him whatsoever.

Before he made his move he checked in the mirror to make sure he looked perfect. He didn't want a hair out of place for tonight's work.

 The sawed-off shotgun was loaded and ready for action. He pulled on dark sunglasses before he exited the van and headed down the street. Although the sun was beginning to set it wasn't yet difficult to see, even with the glasses.

He spied his targets from across the street. The neighborhood was quiet, and there were no cops in sight. This was the riskiest part of his plan, but it was imperative it be done this way. It should only take 45 seconds, maybe a minute maximum. Little chance of the cops rolling by in that time frame.

There they were. The two young Hispanic men were always on the corner at that time. Like clockwork. A car drove by, slowed down, a deal was made, and then they were alone again. Perfect.

He walked by an ATM and crossed the now deserted road. Innocent people, civilians, didn't spend much time in this part of town. Almost everyone here was doing something or part of something, or related to someone who was.

The two men were having a heated discussion in Spanish as he approached and didn't even notice him until it was too late.

As far as the Mexicans were concerned they weren't at war at the moment. It was a brief time of peace and their guard was down. This was their territory and it had been for years. No one else even wanted it; it was their people's land. A black gang, or anyone else, wouldn't even want it.

He walked towards them confidently, not running or walking. His steps were quiet but this came naturally to him. He wasn't a small man, but he was a quiet one. When he was just a few yards away he reached under his leather jacket and pulled out the firearm. Neither of them even saw the gun until it was too late.

One minute they were talking, the next minute one of them had a newly formed red cavern in his chest as the other was deafened by the roar and splattered with blood. The first man didn't make a sound as he dropped to the ground, his body already lifeless.

 The second blood-spattered Mexican’s mouth gaped open as he futilely reached behind him to pull out the handgun he had secreted in the back of his jeans. Before his hand had even clasped the grip of the gun it was already too late. The shotgun spoke again and the second man dropped wide-eyed to the floor on top of his dead friend.

Breathing fast now the man pointed the shotgun down at the two bodies, and pumped and fired three more times, ruining any chance of an open casket at their funerals.

Panting with the exhilaration of the kills he slipped the the now warm firearm back under his jacket. Blood roared through his veins and he took a deep breath, heady with his success. He felt great, he felt alive.

He turned around and walked up the sidewalk before crossing again to get back to the truck.

As he walked away the security camera in the ATM continued to silently record the two bodies lying on the sidewalk across the street. It had captured everything.