The Dying Ground Read Online Free PDF Page A

pitching arm I responded to Smokey’s disrespectful mouth by snapping the towel. The whip reflex sizzled in the air and stopped dangerously close to his left eye. The gesture was quick, thoughtless, and fueled by anger mixed with grief. Smokey’s grinning theatrics had broken through my usual calm.
    All hell broke loose.
    Behind me I could hear the scrape of chairs and a scattering of feet as customers broke for the back room. A few even braved a sprint for the door.
    In a swiftness that belied his size, Smokey charged forward with every intention of snapping my neck.
    Holly met his speed. He moved in front and smashed Smokey in the throat, doubling him over as he gasped for air. Before Smokey could reach around to grab the gun in his waistband, Holly snatched the towel from my hand and removed it. I could feel the heat and energy radiating from his body. There was no mistaking the gleam in his eye at the prospect of violence, at the idea of silencing Smokey once and for all.
    Holly unleashed a devilish smile, moving like a prizefighter. Smokey rose up and managed enough saliva to spit at Holly’s feet. He would take a bullet before being punked into submission.
    Holly leveled the towel-covered gun at Smokey. Anger. Chaos. Fear. Holly still thought fast enough to eliminate the possibility of fingerprints.
    He waved the gun close to Smokey’s right eye. “I’ma keep this.”
    “One shot’s all you get, nigga,” Smokey answered.
    “All I need.”
    The cock of another gun silenced them both.
    Cutty stood within kissing distance of Smokey, the barrel of his gun resting calmly at Smokey’s temple. The jovial old man was nowhere in sight. He had been replaced by the cutthroat who had survived numerous gangsta regimes.
    “Back on up and outta here.” Cutty hit a floor alarm, wired right to a security team, with the toe of his shoe. “Back up and don’t ever bring ya’ silly ass back in my shop.”
    Smokey held his hands in the air. “It’s cool, old man, it’s cool.”
    His eyes said anything but. They were plastered to Holly’s face, marking time until one of us paid. I’d set in motion what Holly was willing to play to the end.
    Smokey turned to me. “I always thought you was a punk; maybe some first-class pussy made you a man. Or maybe it got you hiding on street corners droppin’ bullets in your old ace.”
    I ventured a response. “Or maybe you making all this noise ’cause you got something to hide. Your hands stand up to a powder test?”
    He turned to Holly. “Tell your monkey to make sure he wants to play in this game.”
    “Cutty asked you to step,” Holly responded.
    Cutty hit the floor buzzer a second time. “And when the police come I’ma tell them exactly what happened, my way, show ’em the shop videotape if I have to, just in case you thinkin’ about doing something stupid.”
    Smokey looked to Holly. “Now ain’t the time … but it’s coming.”
    “You know where to find me.”
    “Territory up for grabs. Winner take all.” Smokey’s words were a challenge, and everyone in earshot knew it. “Could that be the reason?” His mouth, as usual, placed us on the far side of danger. In the open air he added me and Holly to a suspect list that would travel from mouth to mouth.
    I could hear the accusations swirling around me as people formed opinions and chose sides.
    “Naw, Maceo,” they would say. “You serious? Patna too square for that, but, you know, the man had it bad for Billy’s girl.
    “Shit, and Holly, Holly been a gangsta from way back and Billy made it hard for brothers to make a move without his permission.” A disgusted shake of the head would follow. “Money and women always get in the way of big business.”
    I knew Holly heard the same rumblings in his own head. He spit at Smokey’s feet. “Get at me, nigga.”
    “If you don’t get got first.”

S mokey backed out, looking everyone carefully in the eye. I watched silently and noted who among the gathered