stood with his gun at ready. Sure enough, as soon as Lil’ Earl opened the trunk, Tyrone lunged at him with all the strength that he had left – which wasn’t much. He managed to knock Lil’ Earl to the ground before Messiah was on him, pistol-whipping him with the gun. The cold cracks of the metal against Tyrone’s skull echoed through the trees.
“Please, don’t let me die, Lil’ Earl!” Tyrone begged, as fresh blood was brought out of his cranium by Messiah’s blows.
Lil’ Earl’s eyes were guilt ridden and his mouth speechless as Messiah dragged Tyrone’s limp body to the hole, then dumped him in. Messiah picked up the shovel and handed it to Lil’ Earl.
“Now cover him up.”
“Cover? But…he’s still alive,” Lil’ Earl pointed out. Tyrone’s hand moved slowly up to protect his skull from Messiah’s assault twenty seconds too late.
Messiah laughed. “This ain’t just punishment; it’s a lesson. Give him something to think about.”
Lil’ Earl shook his head. “Man, cuz, th-that’s cold blooded! At least kill the nigga, be---”
Bloc! Bloc!
Both shots flew by Lil’ Earl’s ears so close, he felt the heat. “Bury him or join him,” Messiah said, with no heat in his voice, just promise. The look in his eyes let Lil’ Earl know he was dead ass.
Slowly and with shaking hands, Lil’ Earl began to dump dirt on a man he had grown up with. He couldn’t even look at him as he did it.
Such is life.
As the dirt slapped into Tyrone’s dazed face, and covered his mouth with earth Messiah could see Lil’ Earl maybe regretted ever bringing his twin cousins down to North Carolina…
Messiah wondered how long it would be before he’d have to make Lil’ Earl feel it for real.
Two Weeks Earlier
“I told you shit was sweet!” Lil’ Earl exclaimed as he, Tyrone and the twins pulled up behind an abandoned warehouse.
It was after midnight, and like most small southern towns, Goldsboro had tucked itself in. Few cars were driving around, and the ones that were had the same criminal intent they did.
They drove past the warehouse to the back of the pawnshop – a small brick building about the size of the average convenience store. The face of the store fronted one of the busiest streets in town, but the back was totally obscured by the leftover pallets and an old rusty bread truck. Perfect for a robbery.
“Man, they get ery’ gun on earth in there,” Tyrone remarked, with his smooth country accent.
Messiah eyed him in the mirror hard.
“Ay yo, shut the fuck up! I’m tryna think!” he hissed.
He wasn’t feeling bringing Tyrone along from jump. The nigga just didn’t sit right with Messiah. But Lil’ Earl had vouched for Tyrone, and since Lil’ Earl was family, he trusted his judgment. Mistake number one.
Knowledge cut through the tension in the car, when he said, “Fuck that bullshit. Let’s get this money!”
“Everybody know what we gotta do, right? No mistakes,” Messiah warned, as he opened the door.
The rest of the team filed out behind him. Knowledge popped the trunk; inside were four sledgehammers and a coiled rope. Messiah, Power, Tyrone and Lil’ Earl grabbed one a piece.
“Let’s go!” Messiah said, amped for the action at hand, took the rope and the last hammer. The weight of it in his hand felt good. He felt like Black fuckin’ Thor.
Messiah walked up onto the rental car and grabbed the roof of the pawnshop. He threw the rope and hammer up, and when he heard them clatter down, he pulled himself up. Standing on the roof made climbing up like doing one pull-up – something Messiah was used to. So was Knowledge and Tyrone. They came up easy. The night was warm and there were no homes nearby, the strip was all businesses. Across the parking lot, Messiah scanned roofs and windows of the nearby businesses. A Wells Fargo office with windows all dark. A tire and auto repair shop across the street quiet as a grave. All the way through the trees out to the huge blue mushroom of the Goldsboro water tower by the railway track, everything was silent and sweet.
“H-he-help me up,” Lil’ Earl strained, holding on by the grip of his fingers. Being little, it made it hard to grab, jump and pull.
Messiah laughed. “Man, pull yo’ little chubby ass up.”
“I…can’t,” Lil’ Earl wheezed.
Messiah relented and pulled him up. Once he was up, Messiah handed him back his sledgehammer. “Get to work.”
They each wrapped their sledgehammer in a towel to muffle the thud of each blow.
The streets may’ve been empty, but the silence would only make the noise carry further. They also coordinated their blows to strike at once, so there wouldn’t be a cacophony of impacts.
It had only been a half hour but they had banged open a hole large enough to go in through the roof. Messiah looked down and from where he stood, he could see the alarm beeping red, still engaged because it wasn’t connected to the roof in any way.
Stupid muhfuckas he thought to himself. If you had the balls and the brains you could get into anywhere.
Knowledge tied one end of the rope around an iron pipe sticking out of the roof, then knotted the rope in several places so it would be easier to climb down.
“Ay yo Lil’ Earl, stay yo’ fat ass up here. I ain’t tryin’ to have to pull you up,” Messiah remarked playfully, but he was dead ass. Tyrone laughed.
“Man, fuck y’all,” Lil’ Earl chuckled.
One by one, Messiah, Knowledge and Tyrone descended the rope, and Lil’ Earl was alone with the night.
Once they were down, they were like kids in a candy store. The counter was full of guns; the display on the wall was full of riot pumps, AK47s and rifles.
“God damn! Jackpot!” Knowledge whispered excitedly, giving his brother a loud smack of a handshake.
“Yo, here go the duffles,” Tyrone called out, as Lil’ Earl stuffed them through the hole. Messiah and Tyrone caught the bags, but Knowledge was distracted. He fell to his knee behind a display case of pistols.
“Yo, police!” Knowledge said, somewhere south of a shout, but well north of a whisper.
They all ducked and looked as the police car drove by without even looking.
“Man, they ain’t even look. This time-a night in this one camel town, po-po just want their donuts and coffee, they ain’t lookin’ for or expectin’ missions.”
