The night of our job came.
I stood outside on Maurice's instruction, waiting for him to arrive. A chime interrupted the silence. It was my other cousin, Dayday, calling me. I had not heard from him since I had left the hospital.
"Hello?"
"Hey cuz! Checking in, it's been a little minute. You feeling good? Staying good?"
"I'm…getting there."
"I get it, I get it. Life gets a little weird when you survive getting shot. Just don't let it happen a second time if you can help it, man."
My face remained flat as he chuckled over the phone.
"Anyways," he continued, "Be safe out there. Stanlowe ain't for the weak. Get the fuck outta there when you can afford to."
"Where are you not here?"
"Me? Out of fuckin' there!"
He laughed heartily.
"No, no, for real though. Moved to Pilmer. Mostly white people. Ain't worried about shit up here. I gotta go, but be easy. Lot of stupid people, don't be one of 'em."
He ended the conversation with a click. If it was wisdom required of me, then wisdom I would enact. I went to my room and grabbed a mask.
I believe DD referred to it as a "sheisty'".
Maurice dropped it off a couple of days ago in preparation for the task. DD told us of a car by the edge of town that would be ours for the taking. I do not know what a "Cadillac" is, but if the name is anything to be impressed by? A most valuable target indeed. The deal would stay the same: 10% each for Maurice and I.
Provided I didn't mess it up.
I had spent the last couple of days assuring DD and Maurice that a repeat of our last task together would not happen.
The doorbell rang.
[TUTORIAL QUEST: GET YOUR GET BACK PART 2 – UPDATED]
[OBJECTIVE: OBTAIN TARGET CAR]
[REWARDS: 10%]
[REWARDS: + REP]
A car with an black exterior welcomed me. Inside sat Maurice and DD in the same positions as last time. In their laps were also masks similar to mine. I climbed in and began to ride with them to our location.
"Alright, listen up," DD said, "Another easy one. People park and forget. We roll in, take the car I want, and go. I keep watch on one side and Jamal on the other. Without making some Russian motherfuckers angry this time."
I glanced at Maurice from the corner of my eye to find he was doing the same.
I nodded slightly. DD continued.
"Maurice, how long is this gonna take you?"
"Won't know until I get my hands on it. But it's an older model. Shouldn't take long."
DD rubbed his hands together and laughed.
"Oh this finna be too easy."
We arrived at our destination without any problems. Rows upon rows of cars sat idle as we rolled between them.
"White Cadillac, blue stripes," stated DD, "My boy sent me a photo, hold on."
DD reached between us and held his phone. A sign on the back of the car read "LUPITA" in red lettering.
"I swear I've seen that before," said Maurice.
"All that matters is if you see it now," snapped DD, "Got a buyer for it already. Says he'll pay ten grand."
"I see it!"
I pointed out our target. I just barely caught it between two other cars in the dark. Maurice parked our car a couple of spots down.
"Stay right here," commanded DD, "Lemme make sure they're gonna stay inside. I'll call you. Jamal?"
I turned to him.
"One job. Fuck it up, see what happens. Hand me the keys, Maurice."
He slammed the car door shut and went about his way. Maurice and I sat in the dark. For a minute, we said nothing. It was I who broke the silence.
"Ten grands? That doesn't seem like much."
Maurice sighed and remained staring forward as he responded.
"Thousand. Ten thousand dollars. Each of us will take one thousand,"
He turned to me.
"If you don't fuck it up."
"How many times must I be reminded of mistakes, Da–"
His name again.
"Maurice. How many times will you remind me?"
"As many as it takes for you to realize this shit isn't a game. Niggas die for less."
"Good thing I do not plan to die."
Maurice smacked his teeth as his phone chimed.
"This nigga…," he sighed, "I do not plan to die–if you don't shut your lame ass up."
He answered the phone and held it up for me to hear.
"Paid seventy dollars to get in. Fuck that. Aight, I see Julian's bitch ass. This motherfucker owes me money and he's at the damn club. He gon' learn today. Pass the phone to Jamal and get to work."
Maurice handed it over to me and left the car with his bag, pulling over his mask on the way out. I put mine on and followed behind him, relaying our progress to DD.
"We're approaching now…we're behind it…Maurice is–"
"Jamal," DD sighed from over the phone, "I don't need the fucking play by play. Walk away and keep your eyes on the entrance. I'm keeping my eyes on Julian and his boys–is this nigga heading to the VIP section?!"
I found a spot behind another car not far from Maurice. Periodically, DD ranted and raved about Julian and what he owes him.
"...help a nigga out and this is the thanks I get…"
"And he has a bad bitch? Bad bitches?! This motherfucker…"
"A whole ass bottle? Ok. I see how you get down."
I heard a pop.
Behind me, Maurice had gotten the door opened. He froze, tool in hand. He looked at me and relaxed his shoulders. From inside the bag he pulled more tools and continued his work.
"Maurice got in," I said to DD, "Nothing else of note."
"Oh, this motherfucker–THIS motherfucker–another bottle? Aight."
I rolled my eyes and kept scanning the surroundings.
Stragglers.
Someone retching by the entrance of the building.
A man whose breath blew smoke.
I focused on the last person for a minute. Another exhale of smoke as he leaned against the wall. Due to the distance, I could not tell where his eyes were looking. Though I remained crouched in the shadows, I swore he was looking at–
"Jamal!"
The sound of DD's voice over the phone brought me back.
"Jamal! He's on the fuckin' move! I'm following! He's looking at his phone!"
"Maurice," I called, "How much longer?"
"Not much."
"Someone is on the move! DD is coming back now.""
"Shit!"
Maurice upped his pace as I went back to keeping watch. DD came out first. After taking a few steps from the entrance, he started jogging. This caught the eye of the man who blew smoke. He remained in his spot but his eyes were focused on DD.
"Get the car going, now," he said over the phone.
"He's working on it," I responded, "How many is their number?"
"Nigga, I don't know! Ten? Shit!"
That must have been Julian. A man with a glistening chain around his neck stepped from the entrance with an entourage. In one hand he held his phone, and in the other, a bottle. He turned to the man who blew smoke and started talking fervently. Just then, the same man pointed to DD, who was still a ways away from us.
The man I believed to be Julian yelled for DD.
He ran.
All of them moved as a unit.
One moved a hand inside his shirt.
Another reached behind his back.
A third reached for his pants–which he adjusted, frequently–on the way over. That one may have never heard of a belt.
I ducked behind the car and stuffed the phone in my pocket. Scraping across the ground, I worked my way toward Maurice.
The car sprang to life.
The group chasing DD froze. Julian pointed as us and shouted.
"What the FUCK is going on?!"
Maurice hopped in, and I dove across the front to get to the other side.
They started sprinting in our direction. One man reached for something that made Julian screech at the top of his lungs.
"No, fool! Not my car! Put that shit away–"
[PERK ACTIVATED: JUST A FEELING (1)]
The back of my mind tingled.
"MAURICE GET DOWN–!"
I shoved his head down as glass shattered around us. Violent whizzing noises blew by our ears and into the back windows.
Click. Click.
Maurice and I slightly lifted our heads to see the man who needed a belt stand with a black block pointed toward us. Julian fell to his knees, mourning his newly ventilated car.
"Diego…DIEGO WHAT THE FUCK MAN! THAT'S MY CAR!"
I swear I saw a tear roll down his face.
Another car started. Everyone now turned to see the black car we took to get here speed off. DD had managed to get away in the confusion, leaving us to deal with it.
Julian and his gang slowly turned to us.
"Gut those motherfuckers!"
Maurice jerked the wheel.
The side of my head hit the window with a crack.
A violent bump on the road.
My ribs went slamming into the front barrier.
Maurice's steering evened out. I peeled my sheisty off and dusted the glass off of my lap. The roar of the car filled the silence while we darted toward home. After a minute, I heard Maurice say something.
"I knew this car looked familiar," he muttered, "Can't believe I forgot that nigga's name."
"What are you talking about?"
"This car. It doesn't just belong to anyone. That was Julian Vasquez. He's the leader of June Park."
[ORGANIZATION DISCOVERED: JUNE PARK]
I swiped the pane out of the way.
"June Park? Are they dangerous?"
"They slice people up, they torture them, they do all the drug trading in north Stanlowe–whatever they have they get! How the fuck Julian owes DD money?"
"Perhaps Julian owes a debt of honor–"
The look on Maurice's face advised me not to continue. I attempted to look busy clearing glass from his steering area.
"Anyways," he sighed, "This is bad. He saw DD's face."
"But DD fled from us as well. Can't he play this as a coincidence?"
Maurice held off on responding for a minute. When the car came to a stop, he spoke again.
"Yeah. But what's he gonna do when he sees this car at DD's garage? Play that off as coincidence?"
Maurice's phone rang.
"What, DD?"
"Julian's car is connected to his phone! He has the fuckin' car lock thing! That's how he knew you were messing with it!"
Maurice's eyes widened. He moved at the pace of a madman for the next couple of minutes. After finding nothing, he commanded me to search for a small black block. I did as I was instructed and searched my half of the car.
"Found it!" said Maurice.
He stepped out of the car and threw it as far as he could into the night. We then shot off back onto the empty road, faster than before.
"Put the sheisty back on!" Maurice scolded.
"We lost them. What do I need it for?"
"We didn't lose shit! June Park doesn't give up that easily!"
I shook the glass from my mask and slipped it back on.
"Look around for a gun! There's no way he wouldn't have a spare pistol."
I started opening compartments of the car. When I found nothing in the front, I reached into the backseat.
Nothing…
That's nothing as well…
This is–
My fingers coiled around a grip. It felt like my old bow. I pulled a small black tube from the backseat and inspected it. I pointed it toward Maurice.
"Is this it?"
"Nigga it's a gun–POINT THAT SHIT AWAY!"
Maurice shoved my hands away from his face.
"Get your fingers off the trigger! Only pull that shit when you have a shot!"
"Where is the string? The twine?"
"Nigga, the what?"
"It shoots, but has no twine? How can this be–"
A flock of luminance appeared behind us.
"Just point it at them!" Maurice commanded.
[PERK ACTIVATED: I KEEP IT ON ME (1)]
[PERK ACTIVATED: BRING THE HEAT (2)]