Chapter Two

It had been a month later. Rarely did the boys leave the warehouse. It was only after 3, when they knew the schools had gotten out, did they wander the city as they pleased.

Ben and Eddy had sold over half of their stock, and they already had a large sum of money. There was still a generous amount left, meaning that the could store that away as their next emergency fund. They already had well over enough to feed themselves for 6 months.

Ben still felt uneasy about their whole operation, but it was the safest way to earn money for food. The Family still existed, so they took it as a win. However, Uncle Eddy became restless soon after they stored away the rest of the stash. He often talked about how they could buy clothing, and other necessities besides food, if they continued selling it and distributing more varieties of illegal narcotics.

One day, a man entered the warehouse. He demanded to see Eddy. Eddy took the man to the back of the warehouse, away from the other boys.

The man handed two bags to Eddy, counting several bills and hastily stuffing them into his pocket. He quickly exited the warehouse.

"What was that all about?" Ben questioned Eddy. Eddy gave Ben a serious look, and beckoned him to follow him with his finger.

They sat in Eddy's room, on two folding chairs which had obviously been thrown out by someone. Eddy threw a duffel bag in front of ben. "Open it," Eddy commanded. Feeling intimidated, Ben did what he was asked. He unzipped the top, and plunged his hand into the duffel bag. When he felt what was inside, he alarmingly retreated his hand. "Eddy! Is drug dealing not enough?" Eddy reached inside and pulled a worn, 9mm Glock handgun out of the bag and put it in Ben's lap. Ben was shifting uneasily and wanted to run that very minute, but Eddy obviously had a plan. "We're buying and selling more," Eddy said monotonously, as if he'd rehearsed it. "In case any of the deals went wrong, we can now defend ourselves." Ben shrank back in horror. A cold surge flooded his chest. Eddy put the gun in Ben's hand. "Push the button on the side to empty the magazine, and then pull it back like this to reload." Eddy slid the magazine in and out, and then cocked the top.

"This button here is the safety. It has to be in safety to be reloaded, and it won't shoot if it's in safety." Ben timidly clicked the safety on and off. "Line up the notches on the top of it, and then shoot.

Eddy fished a large revolver out of the other duffel bag. He aimed it at a concrete wall, and fired. A deafening crack bounced around the warehouse, and a shell ejected from the top and rolled to Ben's feet. Ben still felt in shock. Never in his life had he even seen a fire arm before. London had strict gun laws. Only police and military officials carried them.

"Now you," Eddy coaxed. Slowly, Ben raised the weapon, and aimed at the same wall as Eddy. He pulled the trigger fearfully. The recoil of the weapon surprised him, and a shell ejected and bounced away. The bullet bore itself inside of the concrete wall, and the boom of the weapon made Ben's ears ring. "There's four clips of ammo in the duffle bag," Eddy stated. "Don't get trigger happy, or the police will surely come here." Ben nodded. He felt much more secure with a fire arm. He was still feeling nervous about this entire thing, but if Eddy was handling the entire thing, why should he care? He was only his wingman. They were just trying to feed hungry, abandoned children like themselves. What were they doing wrong? After all, It was the world that had wronged them.

As soon as Ben left Eddy's room, Eddy reached into the duffel bag and opened a plastic bag filled with a floury powder. He deeply inhaled the contents...

Weeks later, Eddy had arranged the delivery of 1 kilo of Marijuana. Marijuana was in season, meaning it would be cheap to buy and easy to sell in a few weeks. Ben had the other boys hide in their rooms of the warehouse. A thin briefcase sat on top of the picnic table, filled with cash. Ben clutched his pistol under the table, hoping nothing would go wrong. Eddy and Ben anxiously watched the door of the warehouse. Finally, it swung open. Two men wearing hooded sweatshirts slowly approached the table, and sat down across from Eddy and Ben. No one said anything. They pushed a backpack towards them. Eddy checked the bag, and produced a bag of sulfur colored flakes. He sniffed it, and then pulled his revolver on the men. "It's fake!" Ben stood up and uneasily held his weapon up to the man across from him. They showed no signs of fear. One of them was even smiling. "What's going on?" Ben stammered. Suddenly, two windows broke as canisters of tear gas were thrown into the warehouse.

The intoxicating aroma swirled all around, and made their eyes sting. "Tear gas!" Eddy coughed. "Run!" Police burst into warehouse.

Men tore after them. The duo burst through doors at the side of the warehouse, and the rest of the boys from the family scrambled out many other doors and windows. Police sirens filled the air. Eddy stopped, turned around, and fired his weapon, hitting a police officer. Then he grabbed Ben and threw him on the other side of an adjacent warehouse facing the river. "Eddy! He was unarmed!" Ben angrily beat Eddy. "Look what you've done! You just ruined everything!" Ben's lip quivered with anger. Eddy was quiet for a moment, and then aimed his weapon at Ben's forehead.

Ben was horrified. This boy, who took him in, fed him, clothed him, and kept him and many other boys safe, was now holding a gun to his head. Eddy had been a father to Ben. He couldn't help but shed a few tears. The footsteps of Police became louder and louder. "Dispatch, shots fired, Jefferson is shot in the arm," Was all ben could make out.

Eddy lowered the revolver from Ben. "Leave. I'll hold them off." Ben didn't hesitate. He bolted from the scene and thoughts raced through his head. Where could he run to? How can he get away? The police were everywhere. Then it hit him.

They were everywhere but the river. Ben changed direction and shuffled through an alley between warehouses. His red dinghy bobbed up and down in the murky water, tied to a wave breaker. He climbed into the boat, getting his shoes soaked as he did so, and pushed himself off using a paddle.

Eddy watched Ben run, and then turned around. he leaned up against a dumpster and opened the bell of the revolver. He fumbled two bullets from his pocket and replaced the two rounds he had used on the officer. Eddy reached into his jacket, and opened a very small, plastic bottle, filled with a fine, white powder. He took a long whiff of it, and it filled him with a calm, over powered feeling. He was able to hide his addiction from everyone but himself.

Eddy held his revolver with both hands, and began to feel very mellow. He didn't care what happened to him now. All that mattered was that Ben and the other boys could make it out. Armed police officers stopped as they saw him, and Eddy opened fire on them.

Bodies fell to the ground. Eddy fired until his revolver clicked, and then he went numb. A lone police officer was aiming a combat shotgun at him. The officer, wearing sunglasses, a baseball cap, and a bullet proof vest, pulled the trigger. The blast from the shotgun sent Eddy sprawling backwards. He felt extreme pain. Blood erupted from his lower torso, and he fell to the floor. He flopped about on the pavement, his revolver slid away from him. The officer pumped his shotgun, and it ejected a shell that rolled close to Eddy. The pool of blood oozing from his body became deeper and deeper. He felt dizzy. The world began to drift away from him. He could hear voices of the police officers, but they were low and faint. Eddy saw and heard everything in slow motion. Everything was fading into white. And then Eddy whited out.