Chapter 2
Ajax owed me twenty bucks. The place was packed with hundreds of guys. It was like being at the final game or something. But what scared me even more was the fact that no one was packing or flexing just like Cyrus said not to do...this was a truce. "Can you count suckers? I say the future, is ours! If you can count." Cyrus begins which leaves everyone in silence say the few whispers. Cyrus climbs higher onto the platform.
"Come on Cyrus, we're with you!" Someone yells.
"Go ahead bro!" Another urges.
Now look what we have here before us. We've got the Saracens sitting next to the Jones Street Boys. We've got The Moonrunners, right by The Van Courtlandt Rangers. Nobody is wasting nobody. That…is a miracle…and miracles, is the way things ought to be." He continues upon reaching the second platform from the top. "You're standing right now with a hundred delegates, from a hundred gangs and there's over a hundred more. That's 20,000 hardcore members, 40,000 counting affiliates and 20,000 more not organised but ready to fight. 60,000 soldiers! Now there ain't but 20,000 police in the whole town. Can you dig it?" A small crowd cheers in reply. "Can you dig it?" He asks again receiving more of a cheer. "Can...you...dig...it?!" Everyone joins in on the cheers.
"This Cyrus isn't that bad." I shrug to myself.
"Now here's the sum total. One gang could run this city. One gang! Nothing would move, without us allowing it to happen! We could tax the crime syndicates, the police, because we got the streets suckers! Can you dig it?" Everyone roars mostly for the hate towards the 'boys in blue' but still it's the reaction he wanted.
"Right on!" Cowboy nods in agreement.
"The problem in the past has been the man turning us against one another.
We have been unable to see the truth, because we've been fighting for ten square
feet of ground. Our turf, our little piece of turf. That's crap brothers. The turf is ours by right, because it's our turn. All we have to do is keep up the general truce. We take over one borough at a time. Secure our territory, secure our turf, because it's all our turf!" He says turning as he speaks like a god or maybe just to make everyone feel equal.
"Are you offended?" Vermin asks me.
"By what?" I whisper back.
"Being called a brother." He explains.
"I'd prefer brother to whore or slut like I've been called by most." I sigh waiting for him to continue his speak. A gunshot sounds and everyone pauses the silence being more shiver-worthy than the actual shot. Then everyone scatters. Police sirens blare and it's all-out war to get away - by war it's more shoving anyone who gets in your way out of the way. I stand on the stairs railing and spot Swan with some of the boys. I jump off and chase after them. I follow them through the fence into a graveyard...nice.
We all drop as the police chopper cuts over. Huffing and puffing we're all covered in sweat. "What the hell happened?" I question no one in particular.
"Everybody make it?" Swan asks standing up as we all regroup.
"Just Cleon's missing." Fox answers.
"Fuzz must have got him." Cochise suggests.
"Did you see him get busted?"
"I saw him then he wasn't there no more. I was hauling arse." He adds. "Why don't you look around, see if we're okay?" Swan directs at Rembrandt.
"This is a graveyard!" The baby complains before jogging off into the night.
"Okay, what are we going to do now?" Cowboy asks Swan. To which Swan replies:
"We're going back."
"You mind telling us how? Fucking Coney Island must be fifty to a hundred miles away from here." Vermin complains.
"It's out only choice." I huff giving him a little shove.
"Yeah, real simple. Except every cop in the city's lookin' to but our heads!" Cochise lets out a long breath.
"We got something else to think about." Swan glances about.
"Yeah, what?" Vermin steps up.
"The truce, is it still on?" Snowball continues for Swan.
"If we ain't we're going to have to bop our way back." Vermin nodded.
"Shit I wish we were packed." Cowboy groaned fixing his hat.
"If this truce is off, anything could hit us between here and that train. If you get separated, make it to the platform at Union Square, that's where we change trains." Swan plans out.
"I only got one question..."Ajax begins stepping closer to Swan. "Who named you leader? I got as much right to take over as you." He decides.
"Because you think with you balls." I shrug getting 'the look' the same one he gave me when I refused to screw him then kicked his arse.
"Maybe we ought to talk about this later, huh?" Swan attempts.
"What's wrong with right now? I wanna be war lord." Ajax jabs.
"Make your move." Swan dares. I step in between.
"Walk it off. Who cares who gets us out, let's just get out. I'm not going to get arse-fucked by a bunch of freakin' morons because you two won't get along. Don't make me force you." I hiss as Rembrandt cuts in easing my tension but not that of the boys.
"Hey you guys, the train's right over there. Come on, hurry up, lets go."
"Lets move." Swan announces strolling on with me waiting to be sure Ajax isn't going to do anything stupid.
"Hey man, don't worry about it, stay loose." Cochise chimes with a boppy beat that makes me ant to dance.
"Ah Fuck!" Ajax whines in reply.
"Rembrandt mark this spot." Swan orders nodding at the graffitied grave.
"Hey, wait for me!" Rembrandt calls after us.
