Volume V: The Tragic End of Treason

Chapter 7: We Four Horsemen

            Stop, rewind, repeat in slow motion. Let me slowly explain the dazed blur of events that we bore witness to. Piece by piece, here’s the result, here is the painstaking event.

            We were at the warehouse by 11, each armed, each positioned at a strategic point, ready to burst into the scene. Hadrien was ready with a rifle; he’d be our long-range cover. Everything relies on trust. Absolute loyalty and devotion to one another. This would be the proving grounds. We lurked in the darkness, listening carefully for life. By 11:30, the gang started flooding in, small groups, quietly coming out of the shadows and disappearing just as quickly. Dyre was led in near the end of the parade. All of the gangsters had their faces covered, like a midnight masquerade. And finally, coming up in the rear, the nightmare Himself, with the faithful in tow, Lyre silently at his side. Marcellus took his time, checking over his shoulder a few times. And the ceremony began.

            Chairs were set up, Marcellus’ being bigger and very prominent. Dyre stood there, alone, broken away from the group. He didn’t belong there. After some introductory speaking, Ashe was dragged in, fighting to the last. We all moved into place, waiting for Dyre’s hand to level out. His gun was leveled…and we went in. From doors all around, we ran in and shot at everybody in sight. A single loud shot rang out and I turned to see Ashe’s knees buckle as his body dropped. Dyre hadn’t moved. For a split second I realized that Dyre hadn’t fired. Searching the rafters, I saw the moving shadow outline. Klyde. We grouped up and ran out, bleeding, dying but still moving. We ran to the door as a group, bullets sailed everywhere. We were almost out when the shots stopped and just one rang out. One shot, then another, just solitary shots back and forth. And we were out.

            We ran to the Dragon, collapsing inside – Dyre had a key to let us in. Dyre had Ashe; he’d carried him in his arms, laying him on the floor. We were all bleeding and broken from various locations. Dyre was silent, Hadrien looked at our bloody faces compared to his shining smile. Dev seemed to be okay, Galat and her were on good terms. Toryn collapsed in a chair. I went over to hold her, only to find her covered in blood. Klyde had gotten her, we were running short on time. I started to run to a phone to call someone when a hand grabbed my wrist. Payge Drake looked at me in an expression of anger and concern. Set was outside with a car running. We grouped up, leaving Dyre with Ashe, and we went to the hospital.

            Galat and Dev were treated for minor injuries, nothing fatal. Hadrien went for a walk to clear his head. Toryn was slipping though, they brought her into surgery as they tried to treat me. I shrugged them off, pacing around as I bled. Payge watched me curiously.

            “You should let them help you.”

            “Fuck them, I want to know about Toryn.”

            “It’ll be awhile, just hope.”

            “Fuck hope!”

            “Then love.”

            “Fuck love too! Love is the most overrated, wasted, damaging…oh.”

            I didn’t realize it, but she was crying. We all knew the story. The Drakes were the most beautiful legend of all. Both of them were dead now, Payge’s parents, in the name of love. I sat down with her, repeating my apology over and over again. I held her, letting her cry into my bloody soul. Raised with and by gangs, she understood how everything goes. Set was lurking around with Galat and Dev. He happened to come back to us to find us there. He tore me out of the chair by an arm. Payge caught hold of him, whispered a few words, and the raging bull was calmed. He sat down with his sister, with me on her other side, Galat and Dev sitting across from us.