Chapter 4 - Encounter on the Street / by Bob Jamison

Donny peered out into the darkening street, trying to make out any movement against the shadows cast by the street lights.

After getting the hell out of Wonderland, they'd packed back into the Lincoln and circled the neighborhood, careful to avoid the police converging on the club. 

"There", Kirkland pointed out the window as they rounded a corner.  

Ray-Ray stood at a delicatessen's pay phone spitting panicked whispers into the handset.  Donny pulled in smoothly between two cars still a block away and hit the lights.

Ray-Ray slammed down the phone and ducked around the corner of the building into an alley.

Kirkland dabbed at the flecks of blood on his clothing with a napkin.  "What now?"

 "I don't know...", Donny snapped, "...if you two assholes had played it cool we'd have nailed him at the club."

 "Unlucky.  Roo-Roo jumped out of way."

Donny and Kirkland craned their necks to look back at the Russian.

"He can speak English!", Kirkland snarked.

"Fucking you, Kirk Man."

"Sorta", said Donny.  He peered back out of the windshield.  "Okay, follow me and keep your mouths shut and your shit together."

Donny clicked off the dome light and slowly opened the door.  His heart pounding, he stepped out carefully.  He cringed when Kirkland's door let out a small creak.  Donny walked methodically towards the deli, gun raised and hugging the front of the building.  His two men followed him closely, their weapons leading the way.

An arms-length from the phone Ray-Ray had used, Donny halted, raising his hand.  He blew his breath out slowly, ears and eyes straining towards the alley.

A shoe rasped the ground, echoing between buildings.  Donny looked at his companions, Kirkland shook his head and the Russian stood passively gripping the rifle at waist level.  

Another scraping sound.

Donny looked back at the alley.  "Ray-Ray", he croaked out, then cleared his throat.  "Ray-Ray, we just want you out of the Points."  He looked back and pointed his chin towards a truck parked on the curb.

"We know you're there, we just want to talk."  The Russian crouched at the corner of the truck, raising his AK-47 and peering down it's sights at the corner.  Kirkland stood beside him, back pressed to the rolling door.

"Buuullsh-shit!", came a squeaky voice from the darkness.

The Russian twitched and Donny held up a hand and pondered for an instant.



"Ray-Ray.  Just come out and talk..."

Light suddenly shifted as a car turned the corner and Donny ducked into the shadowed doorway of the Deli.  In the frame of the doorway he watched Kirkland and the Russian at the back of the truck, Kirkland peeking around it's corner into the street.

Donny looked at the pair questioningly, and Kirkland looked back locking eyes briefly before...leaning around the truck and unloading with his 9mm.

"SHIT", Donny barked as he leapt out of the doorway, looking franticly from the street, down the sidewalk and to the entrance of the alley.  He caught a glimpse of headlights waving back and forth before a chest-thumping collision and tinkle.

Donny continued stepping towards the alley before a brick in the wall popped into shrapnel, pelting Donny's clothing and stinging his face.  He backpedaled, keeping behind the truck until he turned the corner where the Russian began unloading a clip into a wrinkled black car.

Someone returned fire as Donny continued, towards the next gap between cars, when Ray-Ray burst out of the alley, a gold plated gun in each hand, firing wildly, "Talk to this shit mothafuckas!"

Donny dived for the gap, yelling, "Ray-Ray!  Get him!"

The Russian stopped his fire, looking around and reaching inside his jacket for a clip.  Kirkland stayed shielded by the truck, occasionally popping out to jab his pistol and fire at the crashed car, ignoring Donny.

Popping his head up and looking through the glass of the car, he spotted Ray-Ray crouch-running across the street.

Shit, Donny thought.

A howling siren started, close by.

"GET THE FUCK IN THE CAR!"  He shouted as he ran flat out, back towards the Lincoln.

Keys fumbling, he saw the Russian in a soldier's trot towards him and Kirkland still firing as we ran.  Donny slid into the car, half laying under the wheel to keep his head down, jabbing the key into the steering wheel.  The engine caught and Donny contorted up into the seat still ducking.

He vaguely sensed the other two in the back seat as he jammed the car into reverse and slamming the accelerator.  Clipping another car, they screeched out in reverse and around until Donny had them facing the other direction and into 1st gear.

Blue and red flicked at the trees and buildings, receding in the rear-view.

Donny seethed, smearing sweat and blood across his face as silence descended on them, leaving only the three men's labored breathing and the sounds of the car.  

Donny punched the wheel.  "Fuuuuuuuuck me..."