Page 5 of Dark Alleys

Stepping around the corner where I had a full view of what was going down, I saw the twenty Tangos facing off against about a dozen Crips.

No idea what the fight was about and didn’t want to know.

Not my monkeys. Not my zoo.

When the fighting turned mean and dirty and the guns and knives came out, it was my turn.

Sticking to the shadows so I didn’t blow my cover, I shot anybody with a gun pointed at anybody else. I broke necks and cranked off a half dozen knee shots to knock them down and make sure they stayed down.

Blacky and the gang squad—both shifts—numbered about fifteen. Plus me.

We were outnumbered but better equipped and we had the element of surprise on our side. This crowd didn’t give a shit if we had badges. They had no respect for authority of any kind.

Some of the gangers chose to abandon their buddies and they rode off on their bikes into the night, but when all was said and done, Blacky had himself about twenty arrests, a ton of evidence—drugs and guns—and four dead bodies.

He gave me the nod to get going before First Response got there. I hopped on my ride and beat it to Riverside.

Riverside District. Austin.

I was in a hurry to get to my apartment and specifically to my bathroom where I had first aid supplies. I caught a blade when quarters got a little too close and blood was pouring out of my arm making me feel a little light headed and crazier than usual.

I wrapped my left forearm with a hand towel and taped it tight to stop the bleeding. Swallowed four Advil and flopped on my bed.

My work day was done.

See how I felt when I woke up.

Chapter Two

Tuesday, June 3rd.

Riverside District. Austin.

I was in bed sleeping and oblivious to my situation until the pain in my arm forced me to open my eyes.

With consciousness came awareness. A little too quickly for my liking.

My arm was hot. Too hot…and wet.

When I came to my senses, I realized the taped-on towel had slid off my arm while I slept, and blood was fuckin’ everywhere—my blood.

“Jesus, what a mess.”

I need stitches.

Riverside Medical Center.

No way I could ride my bike, the mess I was in, so I drove my truck with my right arm while my left flopped like dead leaking lumber in my lap.

Wasn’t far to the clinic I always went to when I was bashed up. Luckily, I hadn’t been there for months. Must’ve been doing something right.

When the nurse at the reception desk saw the amount of blood on me and my clothes, she jumped up and showed me into a treatment room. “Sit there and I’ll send the doctor right in.”

“Thanks.”

I sat on the exam table with my legs dangling. Staring down at my Harley boots, I was grateful none of my blood was on the leather. They were practically new and fuckin’ expensive.

Blood was everywhere else.

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