Murderville 2: The Epidemic Read online

  Contents

  Previously In Murderville 1

  Chapter: One

  Chapter: Two

  Chapter: Three

  Chapter: Four

  Chapter: Five

  Chapter: Six

  Chapter: Seven

  Chapter: Eight

  Chapter: Nine

  Chapter: Ten

  Chapter: Eleven

  Chapter: Twelve

  Chapter: Thirteen

  Chapter: Fourteen

  Chapter: Fifteen

  Chapter: Sixteen

  Chapter: Seventeen

  Chapter: Eighteen

  Chapter: Nineteen

  Chapter: Twenty

  Chapter: Twenty-one

  Chapter: Twenty-two

  Chapter: Twenty-three

  Chapter: Twenty-four

  Chapter: Twenty-five

  Chapter: Twenty-six

  Chapter: Twenty-seven

  Chapter: Twenty-eight

  PREVIOUSLY IN MURDERVILLE 1

  “TELL ME WHERE THE MONEY AT, BITCH!” the goon said as he circled the girl who sat bound to the wood chair. The beauty just sat there and cried in agony, the ropes were tied so tightly that they stopped her circulation. The masked goon grew frustrated and struck her across the temple with the butt of his gun, splitting her flesh open. Blood trickled down her face as she remained silent but cringed in pain. “Tell me! Where does Po keep the money?!” he screamed as he ripped the ski mask off his head, tired of waiting for a response. He knew that the money was somewhere in the house because he had been following her drug-dealing boyfriend for two weeks. He witnessed him enter the house with his street money, only to exit empty-handed. He knew that the stash was inside the house somewhere. The woman just cried in pain and never answered the intruder’s questions, frustrating him to the brink of rage.

  “Yo, if you don’t tell me where the stash at . . . I’m going to blow your brains all over your pretty little wall,” the goon said as he pointed the gun at the young woman’s head. He waited for a response, only to get nothing from her except more tears. The goon knew that he didn’t have a lot of time, and he had already searched the house from top to bottom and came up with nothing. He slapped the girl, taking her silence as disrespect. He put his gun in his waist and wrapped his hands around the girl’s neck and squeezed with all his might. He watched as her face turned blush red. She squirmed but there wasn’t much she could do because of the ropes restraining her limbs. The goon thought about how she had blatantly ignored all of his questions, and he wanted to see her die. In his twisted mind, it would be payback for undermining his authority. He continued to squeeze her throat until the squirming stopped and her eyes stared into space . . . at nothing. She was dead.

  The goon loosened his grip, letting her chin fall into her chest. He breathed heavily and stepped back from the woman’s lifeless body. He took one more look around the room and noticed a plaque on the wall. It was a high school diploma. It read: “Michigan School for the Deaf” and was awarded to Scarlett Jones. That’s when it began to make sense to the goon. She couldn’t answer my questions . . . because she was deaf. She didn’t even hear me, he thought as he was overwhelmed with guilt. He quickly fled from the house empty-handed, leaving the twenty-two-year-old beauty to sleep forever.

  * * *

  James “Po” Taylor drove down the highway and yawned as he glanced down at the clock on his dashboard. He hated that he was coming home so late, but it was for a good reason. He had picked up all the money he was owed in the streets. He finally had enough paper saved to buy the house he had promised his longtime girlfriend, Scarlett. He was deeply in love with her and had known her since she was a child. Although she was deaf, they had no problem communicating because Po had learned sign language years ago. He smiled as he thought about her beautiful face. He knew that he could finally give her what she deserved, and that was a beautiful house and a way out of the ghetto. He pulled into their driveway and grabbed the duffle bag full of money.

  Po entered the house and reached for the light switch. He flicked it on and off repeatedly and smiled. He expected Scarlett to come from the den where she usually watched television until he came home. He saw the flickering of the television coming from the den and heard the news being telecasted. She must have fallen asleep, he thought to himself as he began to take off his coat. He hung it up and reached into his pocket for the ring that he had bought her earlier that day. He couldn’t wait until the morning to tell her that they were moving and decided to wake her up. Little did he know, Scarlett would never wake up.

  He walked into the den and noticed that she wasn’t there. He then went upstairs, and his heart dropped when he noticed the way the house was torn up. It was as if a tornado ran through it. The bed was flipped over, and the drawers were pulled out and emptied onto the floor.

  “Scarlett!” Po yelled as he frantically rushed to the other room. As he burst into the room, he saw the love of his life bound to a chair. “No!” he yelled as he raced to her and dropped to his knees in front of her. He unloosened the ropes to release her and tears began to fall as he noticed she wasn’t moving. Her lips were dark purple, a far cry from the blush red they usually were. “Please, God, no. Please!” he pleaded as she fell into his arms. He rocked back and forth with his love in his arms. Tears flowed as he begged God to somehow make Scarlett wake up. He looked down at her and rubbed his hand over her face to close her eyelids. He then knew that she was gone forever.

  * * *

  The sun’s beams crept through the blinds and shined on A’shai and Liberty’s faces as they lay next to each other. The hospital-issued pager sounded off and began to vibrate, making it dance across the nightstand. The sound woke a sleeping Liberty, and she opened her eyes and couldn’t believe her ears. It was the sound that they had been waiting on for an entire year. Liberty’s body felt so weak. She could barely lift her head, but she managed to smile as joy overcame her.

  “Shai, Shai, baby, wake up. We have a heart,” she whispered faintly as she rubbed Shai’s cheek with the back of her hand. “Shai?” she called again, noticing that his skin was cold to the touch. “Baby, wake up,” she called as she managed to prop herself up. She nudged him with all the might that she had, but he didn’t move. She didn’t know at that point, but all along she had thought he was having a glass of cognac when in actuality he had been sipping on an old Creole drink called Black Tea. He had slowly ingested it as he told her the story of their lives, wanting to die with his soul mate. A’shai had been dying before her eyes, and she didn’t even know it. His “special drink” caused a slow death and showed his commitment to his love for her. If she couldn’t live, then he no longer wanted to, so he chose to die with her so they could forever be together.

  Liberty continued to shake A’shai, but it was to no avail. She noticed that he wasn’t breathing, and it all hit her like a ton of bricks. She mustered all her strength and grabbed the phone to call 911.

  “Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?” the operator asked.

  “Somebody please help. Shai isn’t breathing. Oh God . . . He’s not breathing!” she said, not even caring about her own health or the heart pager. Her time was also ticking, and if she didn’t get to the hospital she would also die, but at that point, she didn’t care. She was ready to meet A’shai on the other side.

  Tears began to run down her face as the harsh reality set in. She collapsed on his chest on the brink of her own demise.

  * * *

  Liberty saw a bright white light, and she smiled, knowing that she was about to meet A’shai and they could finally be happy together. No more pain and no more of life’s ills. She was ready to go to the afterlife
. She saw a little boy standing in front of the bright light. As she looked closer, she saw it was A’shai as a young boy. He smiled from ear to ear and called her name.

  “Liberty,” he said in a playful tone. “Liberty,” he repeated as he reached out his hand for her. Liberty knew that she was approaching death and rather than being scared . . . she was happy. She began to walk toward him, but for some reason she could not get any closer.

  “Liberty,” the paramedic called as he stood over her.

  “No,” Liberty whispered as she slowly shook her head. “No . . . Let me go with him.” The paramedics scurried to save her life, something that she did not want. Liberty tried to tell the paramedic to let her die, but she was too weak to get another word out. An oxygen mask was placed over her mouth as she tried to mouth that she didn’t want to be saved. She overheard the other paramedic talking.

  “What happened to the guy that was with her?” one of paramedics asked.

  “He was DOA. We had to call in the coroner.”

  ONE MONTH LATER

  Po stood over the grave of his lost love and gently placed a bouquet of flowers on the grave. He rubbed his hand across her tombstone and bowed his head as he prayed for God to take care of his woman. Guilt overwhelmed him as he thought about how he had put Scarlett in harm’s way. A single tear streamed down his cheek as he knelt down and shook his head. “Whoever did this to you . . . They are going to pay. I promise. You . . .” his voice began to crack. “You didn’t deserve this, baby,” he continued. Po stood up and began to walk to his car. He felt his phone vibrate on his hip. He looked at the caller ID and noticed that it was his right-hand man, Rocko.

  “Hello,” he said as he placed the phone to his ear.

  “Yo, I know where the kid at that ran in your spot,” Rocko said with the hostility showing in his voice.

  “Word?” Po asked as he clenched his jaws and his heart began to speed up. He had been waiting for a break for two weeks, and his man had finally found one. Po had put fifty thousand on the goon’s head, and it had paid off quickly. The streets had spoken.

  “Yep. I’m in front of the kid’s mother’s house right now. Niggas is saying that he skipped town because he knew that you would be looking for him.”

  “So, let’s bring him back into town. You already know how we going to do that, right?” Po said as he felt his trigger finger begin to itch.

  “Say no more,” Rocko said just before he hung up the phone. Without saying it, Po had just ordered the goon’s mother to be killed and he would find out the logistics later. He had to return to the hospital and pick up Scarlett’s belongings and sign a few papers since he was her only family. Scarlett’s parents were killed in a car crash, so Po was all she had. He also had to sign off on the donor papers. Scarlett always expressed that she wanted to be an organ donor when she died, and Po had kept her wishes. As fate would have it, someone with the same rare blood type as Scarlett needed her heart. The organ was immediately removed from her chest moments after she was pronounced dead. It was one of the hardest decisions Po had to make, but he knew that Scarlett would have wanted it that way. For some strange reason, something in his gut wanted to know where the love of his life’s special heart had ended up. Nevertheless, he would never know. It was against the hospital’s policies so all he could do was wonder.

  * * *

  Liberty walked into the hospital to see the surgeon that performed the heart transplant. She had been released from the hospital only a month prior and was instructed to return that day to get a checkup. Although she had a new heart, it was still broken. It would forever be empty, and A’shai was the only man who could fill the space. She felt the soreness of the stitches that rested on the left side of her chest, which would always be a constant reminder of the reason A’shai committed suicide. If only he had waited . . . then we would be together right now, she thought. She kept replaying the night that he drank the Black Tea that had eventually sealed his fate.

  Her life had been a blur over the past couple of weeks. Burying A’shai, going back into the home that they once shared, and living alone. She felt like her life would never be normal again. A’shai had enough money stashed away so that wasn’t a problem. She had a nice home and every material thing that she could want, but all of that was meaningless without her knight in shining armor. Liberty went to get checked by the doctor and after getting her prescription she was on her way back out. She headed out the door, and it seemed like everything began to happen in slow motion. She saw a young man coming toward her in a black hoodie, and then a tinted truck slowed down behind him. The only thing she saw was the back window roll down, and it felt like her heart dropped to her stomach. The sinister face of Samad appeared. A’shai’s bullets hadn’t been enough to take his life. He had been looking for Liberty for years, and today was the day that he had finally caught up with her. It was as if she had seen a ghost. A’shai’s bullets hadn’t been enough to take his life. Since that day, Samad sought out revenge and vowed to kill A’shai and Liberty. He sat in the back seat and looked at her with pure hatred and crazed intentions.

  Liberty saw another masked man stick his body out of the window while holding an AK-47 assault rifle. She froze in fear, her mouth dropped and her legs began to shake. She could see the goon point the gun directly at her and she braced herself, preparing for her death. Her life flashed before her eyes and she dropped her purse and waited for the gunshot that would end it all . . .

  ONE

  RAT TAT TAT TAT TAT TAT TAT

  The sound of the assault rifle thundered through the village, and panic ripped through Liberty’s chest as she was startled from her sleep.

  “Get up! Get up now, girls!” her mother whispered frantically as she shook Liberty and her cousin, Dalia, in urgency.

  Liberty’s eyes darted around the thatched hut home as her father guarded the door. In his trembling hands he held a hunting rifle, the only weapon he owned. Seven bullets were all he had been able to afford when he had gone to market. A week’s worth of ammunition. One shot for every day to catch his family’s dinner. Instead, he was preparing to use seven bullets against seventy men. It was hardly enough. He was about to fight an unmatched bout . . . an unwinnable war. As much as he wanted to run he had to stand his ground. His impending death was near, but he prayed that his actions would be enough to spare his family. He squared his shoulders in an attempt to appear strong, but he was afraid and his fear was like an infection that spread to his heart, sealing his family’s inevitable fate. He was sick with silent grief as he anticipated the torture to come.

  “Mama, what is happening?” Liberty yelled in confusion, eyes wide, heart rattled, as gunshots rang out loudly. The sound of boisterous men grew increasingly louder as the caravan of violence grew near. Their whoops and hollers were barbaric as they screamed out their war cries, full of pure adrenaline as they announced their presence.

  “It’s the rebels! They have come,” her father revealed.

  “My mother!” Dalia screamed as she darted toward the door.

  “No! No! You can’t go out there. They will kill you!” Liberty said as she grabbed her cousin’s hand.

  “They will hurt her!” Dalia cried as the thought of her widowed mother facing the rebels alone caused her to tremble.

  “Enough, girls. That’s enough! No one is going anywhere. We have to be quiet. We have to be still. You have to be brave.” Liberty’s father kissed his wife on the forehead as she gripped his forearms with shaky hands. Her terror crippled her as pools of tears formed and the dreams of tomorrow washed away in streams that flowed down her cheeks.

  “But my mother?” Dalia insisted with big, pleading eyes.

  “She is in God’s hands now. It is up to a higher power to keep her safe. It is my responsibility to keep you three safe. There isn’t much time,” he said as his eyes darted toward the door. He gripped the gun so tightly that the palms of his dark hands lost all color and his fingertips throbbed. His breaths were sho
rt, shallow. He was suffocating in silent affliction as he stared at his doomed family. His gut told him that this would be the last time he would ever be in the presence of his wife and child. He fought the emotion that threatened to spill from his eyes, and his pride remained intact. He kept his tears at bay and prepared to put up the fight of his life to save his family.

  “I love you,” her mother whispered. Liberty looked into her father’s eyes as he stared into her mother’s face. In him she saw undeniable grief. Even at the tender age of ten she recognized his sadness and her soul bled as her heart became heavy with uncertainty. The madness surrounding her filled her with trepidation, and she could hear her pulse racing as her heart galloped with intensity. She could see her father mourning her very own death before it even occurred.

  “Father?” Liberty said as a lump filled her throat.

  “Be brave,” he repeated as he kissed her, and then Dalia. His lips were ice cold, and although it was a gesture he did every day, this kiss felt final. Liberty knew that it might be the last show of affection she would ever receive from her father, and she cherished it. She closed her eyes and locked the brief, yet intimate moment into her memory. When she finally looked up, she saw her father’s back as he headed over to the door.

  “Under the bed, now . . . hurry!” her mother insisted as she ushered the girls to their knees. “We have to hide.”

  They waited . . . waited for death as they huddled together, hiding, while their eyes focused on the rickety door that separated safety from destruction.

  The screams that began to fill the air caused the girls to sob uncontrollably.

  Liberty gripped Dalia’s hand so tightly that her fingers were numb, and she closed her eyes, squeezing them tightly, while wishing that it were a horrible dream. They all knew the threat that the rebels posed. Everyone knew. When the rebels came they destroyed everything in their paths, leaving nothing but mutilated bodies and fatherless children in their wake. A rebel invasion symbolized the end . . . extinction . . . and it was right outside Liberty’s door.