SAN ANDREAS: LOS BLOOD HERMANOS

(Blood Brothers)

by K.T. Monteiro

What up! I don't own any of the GTA games or characters. However, the new peoples are MINE!

CHAPTER ONE:

It had been a two years.

Ever since the end of the the Big Smoke drug conspiracy and everything had finally began to settle back down to normal, Caesar Vialpando had seriously been thinking of settling down as well. The gang was back together, regardless of the fact they were few in number. He had made new friends of Grove Street Families. Not to mention, he had a lovely wife-to-be to come home to every night. With his cut of the green he and CJ had acquired two years ago, he'd bought a nice home in Market district. Kendl had been managing the money and had her pretty brown eyes set on a big two story house in Richman.

However, something was missing. Caesar felt empty, perhaps hollow. He could not figure what was missing. He had a good woman, a job as a bartender at the Pig Pen, gorgeous house which he owned. What could it have been?

That Saturday afternoon, this very question was answered.

I was parked in the Burger Shot parking lot in Marina, stuffing my boca full of fries and sprunk, having no shame, ese. I had just got back from the barber shop down the street where my homie Diego was freshenin' up my cut. This whole trip into town would have, should have taken all of two hours. But I had taken four and a half hours. Kendl and I had fought earlier, and once again it was about the same thing: the wedding. First, she wanted a wedding planner. Then it was a brand new dress from San Fierro. Then it was a limo. Then afat ass fiesta in Las Venturas. Then it was what we should name our first baby. Then this, then that.

It wasn't so much I was bothered by her fascination with the wedding preparations. It was like I was being smothered by her desires, her needs, I was being encircled. And soon. . .getting married transformed into getting trapped, getting robbed of my life. I was already starting to feel the withdrawl of being able to do what I wanted, ese. An example was working a job from sun up to sun down (really from sun down to sun up, since it's a strip club. What other job would I have picked?), having to be home in a set amount of time or else Kendl would trip. Being a man in a relationship. I'd never felt the pressure of being commited like I did when I proposed. I hated to admit it to myself. For damn sure did not want to admit it to Kendl. But...I was regretting my proposal.

I was finishing off my sprunk and was dreading going home when my cell went off. I figured it was Kendl, so I began making up a lie that would calm her down.

"Hola?" I asked.

"Caesar? That you?"

It was the voice of my homeboy Gregorio. He sounded frantic, like he was about to drop the phone.

"Simon (yes), ese. Que pasa?"

"Ese, some putos from Ballas just shot up Juan's laundromat down in Los Flores."

"Que (what)? Chingao! (what the fuck!)"

"Sure, ese. Ballas is attackin' all over in Flores and Playa del Seville."

"Why? Por que, ese?"

"Shit, I dunno! Blowin up shit and everything. It's worse than the Riots! Chota (police) ain't even reactin!"

I was listenin' to everything my compadre was sayin', and then all of a sudden...SNAP! That was what was missing, missing from my life. That action, that fight, that fuego. The violence from my old barrio, the excitement of not stepping out of my house without at least a M-9 or a simple pistol. The paranoia that someone might be watching me, wanting with everything in their being, everything in their soul, to be the one to kill the Los Aztecas Lord, the O.G. And I missed being the one to shatter their dream and their skull with a small token of my appreciation, a bullet.

So, I decided to get way into that shit.

"Yo, homie, donde es tu (where are you?)"

"I'm over n Lil' Mexico at Mamita's crib. Shit poppin off here, too. You know I wouldn't ask you shit like this out the blue. I know you got a woman now. But, homes, we need you."

"You got some calor para mi (heat for me)?" I asked, not giving a second thought to the "you got a woman now" part.

"Tu sabes (you know it)"

"Orale. I'm on my way."

I pulled through into Little Mexico, my heart skippin beats like a muthafucka. I could hear gun shots breaking through the air so loud it seemed as if my red Windsor wouldn't be able to withstand the sound and my tires would crack. Still, I rolled through the hood up into Mamita's driveway, not letting the sweat touch the collar on my blue polo shirt. The sun was going down and I could see stars sprinkled on the sky like diamonds on a piece of velvet. I was calm and ready.

BRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!

The ring made my heart jump out of my nose. My pulse jumpstarted again and the sweat touched my collar. Without thinking up a lie just in case it was Kendl, I picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Caesar Vialpando, where in the fuck are you!""

I exhaled sharply. I knew I should have thought up a lie.

"Caesar!"

"Simon, baby?"

"Where the fuck are you? I've been looking for you for hours! What, I'm not worth keeping your word? You don't care enough to come home anymore?"

"I'm in the middle of somethin, Kendl. Calm down. I'll be home."

"That what you said FIVE HOURS AGO! I bet you laid up wit sum bitch, ain't you? Uh-huh! You laid up wit sum hoe from that goddamn club!"

"Kendl-"

"Yeah, you are, Caesar! I told you before I ain't no dumb hoe. I ain't one a them latin bitches you was wit 'fore we got together, Caesar. AN' I don't appreciate yo' ass treatin me like I am one, you muthafucka!"

"Kendl-"

"AN' jus so you know, Imma find out who da slut is, and when I do, I'm cuttin her bitch ass and yours!"

"KENDL, SHUT THE FOCK UP! I'm not cheating on you! I've been fockin faithful since we got together! You so fockin stupida!"

"I'm stupid, Caesar? I'm fuckin' stupid? You the dumbass who fuckin' proposed! You asked me, remember?"

I took in a deep breath. "Shu know what? I remember, Kendl. I fockin remember! AN' you should member this, ma. FOCK IT! The wedding is OFF!"

Then I punched the END button my phone.

That conversation was the one thing I needed to get me amped up, to get me hyper, to get me blood thirsty again. I was like a bull in the arena, and the stupid ass bull-fighter just stepped on my turf in a bright ass red sweater.

I kicked open the door. I climbed out and slammed it shut so hard, I felt the concrete vibrate. I walked up to Mamita's door and banged a balled fist against the fake wood. I got so pissed off, I kicked the door, then I kicked it again. It never crossed my mind that Mamita was in fact 75 years old and could barely walk even with the aid of a walker. But it wasn't Mamita who opened the door. It was my friend of way back in escuela, the eighth grade all the way up to senior graduation.

Gregorio's blue-black hair was pulled backin a ponytail, looking like a weave. Hewas bulky now. I guessed I had not been to the hood in such a long time. His bronze skin was tight with resistance as the muscle made it stretch. Where as all the other vatos had beards and mustaches and I just cut mine off, Gregorio had only peach fuzz even though him and me were the same age. I used to make fun of him because at sixteen I could grow a 5 o'clock shadow plus I shaved and his chin was as smooth as a baby's ass. But he'd get right back at me and would say the only reason why I was so "macho" when it came to my chin was because I ate too much pussy. I had to eat it out to get a beard. But in the end we were always amigos. I loved him to death. Partially because he was so innocent, regardless of the fact he carried heat and smoked weed. He was still a virgin at 25 years old, making him a lil' kid underneathe me, a baby brother.

"What up, ese? Come in and get dis heat. We gotta get out dere with the other homies to back up the hood. These Ballas outta control."

Gregorio told hold on my arm and lead me inside. I was under Mamita's roof less that four minutes before I was back outside in the now pitch black night. Gregorio and me walked our way around the hood following gunshots.

"So, ese, what's up wit chu? You don't come thru no more," Gregorio started, not taking his eyes off the streets.

"Nada, homie. Just workin'," I looked down at the uzi Gregorio had supplied me with, "tryin' to make my bills."

"Ha, I feel you. I member when you ain't have no bills. No woman. You had women."

"I member too. I just had da hood." I looked up, feeling lonely all of a sudden. Like the hood was all I really had and I had just given it up for nothing.

"But chu can't have both."

I made the mistake of taking my eyes off streets, the houses, the cars ahead of me to look at Gregorio.

"Both? No comprende."

Gregorio's eyes were still fixed in front.

"Shu can't have a woman that you love and a hood that you love. There no way that can work," he said, his accent heavy and fierce.

"Por que (why)?"

"Because. . .shu just can't. Shu got to pick. Otherwise. . ."

He trailed off. His eyes popped open as if he'd just seen a ghost. I saw him take in a deep breath and drop his gun.

"G-"

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

I blinked...and when I opened my eyes again, blood sprayed like a thick sheet of rain from God. Gregorio's neck became a fountain of virgin blood as it shot blood from a broken artery. The bullet had traveled in the front of his neck and out the back, so this deep gash was a peeping hole that you could see through. I was so shocked by what was happening, I did not realize that the other four shots that went off were aimed at me but were for some reason missing me.

Gregorio fell backwards...hard. He landed head first on his back, damaging his skull. I sank to my knees beside him and pulled him up onto my folded knees. I kept gasping for air. I didn't understand that in order to breathe I needed to let air go as well as let it in. I couldn't find my voice. I couldn't even scream. I just kept gasping and sucking in air.

It seemed like it took the ambulance forever to show up. By the time they decided to arrive, Gregorio was long dead. His brown skin had turned black and icy-cold. The green eyes had rolled to the back of his head. The blood had ceased to leak. It seemed as though my clothes as well as skin had absorbed all the blood that was left in his body. The paramedics had to pull the corspe from my grasp. My joints had locked up and could not move. My lungs had learned to breathe again, but this was only to keep me from dying myself. The police asked me questions, like what gang did I belong to? Did I know who had shot my friend? Did I have a police record? That bullshit. Of course the answer to each of those questions was yes, but I played the whole "Me no speak eny einglis" card to get off the hook.

I was covered in another's blood when I returned home that evening, like a newborn baby's covered in its mother's blood.