I apologise for the long wait, life has been...involving, so it taken me a good while to get this done. This chapter is pretty lengthy so I hope that makes up for the delay!
I'll need a gun? Things were about to get intense.
Troy wordlessly led me around 200 metres down the street to a firearm shop on the corner humourously called Friendly Fire as I mulled over what crime I could possibly have to commit. Seeing as I was now a prospective member of their outfit, I expected that I'd have to rob some vulnerable establishment or any unwitting citizen who happened to cross my path. Apprehensively, I took a deep breath and entered the building.
I was greeted by the sight of guns throughout the room, in glass cabinets, on the walls and on a low shelf behind the proprietor himself. He was an older black man, possibly in his mid-forties with a demeanor that suggested that the ambience of the neighbourhood was far from a new experience. Having hardly ever handled a gun (although I had seen a couple back in England), I was still wrestling with the inevitability that I'd end up owning one of these guns.
"What's happening, Troy?" the shopkeeper said. He examined me closely, sizing me up. "New recruit for the cause?"
"That's right, he got caught in the crossfire between the Rollerz, Carnales and VKs last night" Troy explained, as I looked away awkwardly and fixed my gaze on a rocket propelled grenade launcher that was mounted on the wall. "We canonised him earlier today so I'm taking him to make his bones."
A long silence then followed and I turned around to find both men staring at me. I had obviously missed some key part of the conversation despite not being able to contribute at all. Troy spoke up first.
"Errol asked you a question. Have you handled a gun before?" I shook my head.
"I've never fired a bonafide weapon, I had a CO2 pistol back home but nothing lethal," I answered.
"Hey, we've got an Brit boy in Saints Row? Dammit Troy, I've got a good feeling about this one!" Errol opened up one of the glass cabinets and took out one of the handguns that was displayed. "This is a semi-automatic VICE 9, 12-round magazine and great for gun virgins. The stopping power isn't great but the reduced kickback will hopefully keep you hitting your target instead of killing clouds." he paused for effect. "Just my humble recommendation, of course."
I looked to Troy for his approval and he was already nodding with approval. He picked up the gun and while keeping the safety on, slapped a magazine into the VICE 9 and slid a round into the chamber before handing it to me.
"Get a feel of it but leave the safety on and don't point it at anyone." he turned to Errol while I weighed it in my hand and stood in a police stance facing the wall. They both exchanged glances, Errol looking mildly amused and Troy looked thoughtful. "How much for the piece?"
"I'll take $100 and I'll throw in a spare clip for free. The Saints are my best customers after all. I've even scratched off the serial for you so it's untraceable, just in case."
Troy reached for his wallet but my sudden movement stopped him. To his disbelief I reached into my own wallet and put the money on the counter. Again, they exchanged glances and after initially raising his eyebrow in surprise, Errol put the notes into the cash register.
I tucked the gun into the waistband of my jeans at the small of my back and put the extra magazine into my pocket. I then stuck my hand out across the counter which Errol speechlessly shook politely.
"I'll be seeing you around Errol," I declared, making sure to not appear vainglorious. "Unless I take a wrong turn and end up in a hail of bullets. I'd rather not have the latter occur though."
Again, both men shot each other a bemused look. "Because of the other outfits fighting over this neighbourhood I haven't been able to stock anything substantial," Errol eventually said. "So I'm hoping that you Saints can liberate the rest of us here in Mission Beach. If you can do that then I'll have some goodies all ready for you."
Troy ushered me toward the door and as we crossed the threshold fired off a mock salute. "Just have faith, my man."
Shutting the door behind him, Troy slapped me on the shoulder and pulled out his .44 Shepherd. "Alright man," he said, gently. "What do you say we take that piece and clean up the Row?" I removed the VICE 9 from my back and studied it closely in the palms of my hands. It had finally sunken in that I was going to have to end someone's life but this wasn't my main issue, I was more concerned in getting shot at or killed myself. Whoever I would be pointing this gun at would more than likely not have my health and wellbeing in mind, along with also being armed too. Sighing, I resigned myself to my possible fate and looked to the sky.
Snapping me out of my funk with his sudden movement, Troy began to cross the street and walk back to the church. "What are you doing? Come on, I've got your back." I followed closely as we approached the graveyard and began to cross it. I looked over at the spot where I had almost been beaten by the few Saints that were tasked with testing my resolve.
Suddenly I was pulled forward towards the low wall of the graveyard and made to sit down out of sight. With us both seated with our backs to the wall, Troy leaned over and kept a firm grip on my wrist. "This is it, man. If you look across the street behind us, you'll see two VKs chilling. It's your job to make them both leave, and when I mean leave I'm talking about on a stretcher covered in a white sheet. Am I clear?"
"But won't they shoot at me as soon as they see me?" I tentatively asked.
"You're not wearing gang colours so I doubt that will happen," he answered, shrugging. "The worst thing that they will consider is that you're a cop or something so you'll have to be quick. Are you ready to do this?" I turned around and peeked over the wall at the two Vice King gang members. Their voices were inaudible from where I was but I assumed that they were engaging in some sort of banter. Both appeared to be unarmed but judging from what had happened last night, no gang member was ever weaponless. A plan formed in my mind.
"Okay I can do it. It's either them or me, right?" Troy grinned at me and slapped me on the shoulder again. Instantly regretting agreeing to this, I took a deep breath and after tucking the VICE 9 into the front of my jeans under my t-shirt, stood up and walked out of the graveyard.
Within seconds I was noticed by the two Vice Kings who began yelling to get my attention. "What you doing over there? You can suck my dick from that far away," one shouted. Making sure to remain calm with a faux confused facial expression, I strolled over to them.
"Need any help?" I asked while maintaining a safe distance. "I'm not too familiar with this neighbourhood as I've only been in Stilwater since yesterday so I can't give any directions." They both scanned me thoughtfully for what seemed like forever. They were wearing the yellow t-shirt/white basketball jersey ensemble and were near obese-looking. I relaxed a little but I felt a twnge of guilt. As these two were white and I was black, would this be class as a hate crime? I tried to weigh the pros and cons of completing this act before I was interrupted.
"I said, where are you from?" the other said, loudly. "Are you deaf?"
"I'm from England," I replied. "I've found America to be pretty interesting so far. Can you recommend any...wait, you want my money and valuables, don't you?"
I tried to look as dejected as possible as they laughed and highfived each other. "We have ourselves a genius Brit!" one said. "Empty your pockets and we'll let you be on your way but don't try to run because we own this turf. We will find you sooner or later."
This was what I was waiting for. "Okay, okay, I'll do it! I don't want any trouble!" I took out my mobile phone from my left pocket. "My wallet is in my other pocket so let me get it." They continued to watch me looking amused as I moved my right hand under my t-shirt and gripped the VICE 9 quickly. As I stepped forwards, I flipped the safety off, pulled out the gun and fired two shots point blank at one Vice King, hitting him in the roof of his mouth (he was yawning) and his throat. As he dropped to his knees, I turned to the other gang member and buried two bullets into his forehead as he stood flabbergasted. The first Vice King was still on his knees gurgling so I shot him once in the cranium and planting my foot in his chest, shoved him onto his back.
I heard running footsteps behind me so I did a quick 180 and almost pulled the trigger before realising that Troy was standing in front of me. I put the gun's safety on and tried to put it in the front waistband of my jeans but was momentarily burnt by the hot barrel. He chuckled at this.
"Shit, you don't mess around, do you?" he said. He searched the dead Vice Kings and unloaded their guns before handing me the magazines. "Nice job, you made it look easy as pie but could you do it again?" I followed his eyes to see two more Vice Kings who were quite a way down the street. I knew that I had seven rounds left but decided to take the chance to fully load my gun just in case while Troy kept watch on the invaders.
"Once I kill these two then will I be done for the day?" I asked, while slapping in the replenished magazine. "We're just following Julius' orders, man. I'm not trying to get you killed on purpose but we need to see your skills." Troy said.
"Wait a second, my skills? I've only just stepped off the plane and I've already murdered two people in cold blood. I had never even SEEN a gun, let alone used one and you're expecting me to somehow pass this test of yours with flying colours? Seriously?" I made to storm off but Troy caught my arm.
"Listen, don't get it twisted and hold on for a second. Julius told me that he sees something in you and that you could be an important part in taking back the Row. Look what you did to these VKs, they never stood a chance!"
"You're not winning me over here, Troy."
"If you stick with us then at least I can promise you that none of the Saints will even think of robbing you, breaking into your home or kill you. Can you say the same about the VKs, Rollerz and the Los Carnales? And think about it, if we lose the Row then this will happen to you. Safety in numbers, right?"
I looked at the VICE 9 in my hand and without another word, flipped the safety off and began to stride toward the distant Vice Kings. Troy called after me but I was too incensed to make out the words. Before I knew it, I was a mere stone's throw from the sweatband-wearing hoodlums who were dressed in long, loose yellow t-shirts and were harassing a young blonde girl. They were clearly oblivious to the firearm in my hand.
"How do you know that you won't like it?" the overweight black Vice King asked the girl. "At least give one of us your phone number, and your address, and your social security number too!" His comrade, an almost emaciated white teenager laughed at this.
"Screw you assholes," the girl said, venomously.
"Do you promise?" I asked, innocently. All three of them turned to look at me as I closed the range between us. I already had a plan of action and it was currently underway. "These two dudes are harmless, girl. Don't worry about them." The larger Vice King, looking confused turned back to the other as I drew even closer. "Can you believe this fool?"
The girl had noticed my gun by now and after giving her a wink, I lifted the weapon and quickly fired three times at the wiry Vice King. the first bullet hit him in the stomach and the other two in the chest. Without giving him a chance, I then fired two shots at the head of the roly-poly Vice King, both entering his skull through the temple. I quickly took away the gun that was under his ample stomach, walked over to the smaller gang member and put an extra round through his forehead as he struggled to breathe. I assume that his lungs were filling with blood so I'm sure I did him a favour.
Looking around, the girl had disappeared but Troy was jogging over from his vantage point. "Damn, you're the real deal! I don't need anymore convincing about you," he exclaimed. "I got a text telling me that there are two more VKs only just around the corner. Don't worry, I'm going with you this time to get rid of them." He took the gun that I had taken, removed the magazine and checked the chamber, wiped it clean on my t-shirt before dropping it back onto the rotund hoodlum.
Before I could answer, he had darted around the corner and once I had caught up, I dropped into a crouch and hugged the wall behind him. Loud music was coming from the courtyard ahead and as we creeped closer, he turned back and ushered me in front so that I could see. My jaw dropped at the sight that greeted me. A pristinely clean yellow Compton was parked with the two Vice Kings leaning against it whilst deep in conversation. One had an 80s-style hightop fade and the other had a smooth-looking bald head with a slightly grimy white sweatband. I tightened my grip on the gun in my hand and stepped into the open.
While facing the wall that I had been hiding behind, I backed towards the Vice Kings and started yelling. "Everyone hide, the Saints are coming!" I declared, looking back at the confused thugs. I ran and ducked down behind the other side of the Compton and watched them confer intensely, almost ignoring the concealed Troy who poked his head out and glared at me. When he had hidden himself away, I stood up and addressed the Vice Kings.
"Aren't you going to bury those losers?" I inquired, exasperatedly. "They robbed me last night, help me get them and I'll join you!" They both grinned at each other and began to creep slowly in the direction of Troy. I had no doubt that they were planning on relieving me of my money at some point so I re-emerged and stood behind the dynamic duo.
"I've always wanted to see a Saint die but I've never killed anyone before," I said. "Let me come with you. Safety in numbers, right?"
Both pairs of eyes remained on the corner that Troy was crouched behind and the two assailants moved closer. "How many are there?" the one with the bald head asked, without looking at me. I raised my gun and pointed it at the back of his head. "Oh, there's one around that corner and one behind you."
Without hesitating, I fired twice at the base of his skull and quickly turned to my right to fire twice more into the left cheek of the criminal with the hightop. Both were dead before they hit the ground but to make sure, I gave them an extra bullet in the head to seal the deal. Before I knew it, Troy was standing in front of me admiring my handiwork.
"Looks like that got their attention" he said. "If it ever gets too hot, go to Forgive And Forget. They'll cover up everything." I looked at him blankly before he continued. "We have contacts that can get the word out that one of the other gangs took out those VKs so they won't know that it was anyone from The Row. In any case, we need to get out of here before the cops arrive."
His phone rang as he finished his sentence and as he engaged in conversation with the caller, I strolled back over to examine the Compton. While making sure not to touch anything, I peered in through the driver's side and marvelled at the gold-coloured interior. Its immaculate leather upholstery made me want to keep the vehicle but it wouldn't have made sense to be living in Saints Row with a Vice King car. Life wasn't fair.
But an idea hit me. I went through my phone's contact list and sent a text to Tamyna explaining that I needed her to drive Troy and myself from point A to B as soon as possible. She responded back by telling me to meet her at the church just as Troy was ending his phonecall.
"We need to get to the church so that we can get away from the Row," I explained. Without waiting for a reply, I was about to walk back the way we had came but Troy stopped me and guided me in the opposite direction. I realised that returning to the scenes of my crimes could've landed me behind bars out of sheer stupidity. I clearly needed to be more street savvy.
Tamyna was waiting for us at the front of the church (we had circled around the neighbourhood and approached from the opposite direction), leaning against her car. It was a nondescript purple Destiny that was rather unremarkable in appearance in contrast to the Vice King Compton but which was ideal for this particular task. I noticed the slightly worn out tyres and the other knocks and scrapes it happened to have. It was a regular car that we needed to lay low for a while.
"And I'm assuming that the big fuss around the Row was you two?" she inquired, quizzically.
"What brings you out here Tamyna?" Troy asked her. "We had some business to take care of for Julius but we can safely say that my input was not required, if you know what I mean."
"Wait, so our new BG here did all the work himself?"
"Yeah, he's a true streetsweeping Saint and it's only his first day."
"Folks, I'm standing right here," I interjected. "Can we talk and drive? I don't feel particularly safe around here with the police possibly on their way."
They both shot each other an amused glance and got into the car. Troy climbed into the back, leaving me to sit at the front with Tamyna. She smoothly started the engine and pulled away from the church.
"Hey man, now that everything's taken care of, can you drop me off at Freckle Bitch's?" Troy asked. "I'm jonesin' for a fun bag." This time Tamyna and I exchanged looks, her rolling her eyes at the absurdly articulated request.
After stopping at Forgive And Forget where Troy handed over a modest amount of currency to the cashier, we eventually arrived at Freckle Bitch's. It was an otherwise quiet drive where I reflected on what I had done. Six lives snuffed out but I felt nothing, dare I say it, I felt no remorse for what happened. They were dead and gone and no one around the Row would miss them because they knew that there were many more that potentially wanted me dead.
As the car came to a stop in the Freckle Bitch's car park, Troy leaned over and stuffed my hand full of dollar bills. Seeming to enjoy the look of confusion on my face, he turned to Tamyna. "Julius wants you to take Rambo here over to see Will. Another move for us to take back the Row."
"Couldn't he have told me himself instead of using you as an errand boy?" Her face betrayed the struggle she was having to maintain her composure. In contrast, Troy was calm and unmoved by her barely restrained outburst and waited for her to finish. Without saying another word, he pushed some bills into her hand and got out of the car.
We watched him walk away and enter Freckle Bitch's in silence. I wouldn't have minded having something to eat either but for some reason it didn't seem to be an appropriate time for that. I took the VICE 9 from my pocket and examined it closely. The scratches where the serial number had been filed away at, the rough grip of the butt and the dull finish of the metal. I had a feeling that the rest of the day was about to get a lot more interesting...