Evil Walks. Part 5.

Sitting at a table in the dark corner of a quiet north side bar, Joe Briggs always thought of himself as a tough guy. Even yet, a stylish tough guy. Dressed in his brown alligator skin cowboy boots, black designer blue jeans, and a tight black, short sleeved t-shirt to show off his muscular arms the twenty five year old black male always thought of himself as the toughest and meanest drug dealer to ever hit the streets of Pittsburgh. That is, until his competition started to move in and have him out numbered and out gunned. Having no real friends to depend on for back up Joe found himself in a vulnerable situation as he was dealing with his turf war against his rival, Willie Slater and his crew. Joe would have no problem if he had the chance to deal with Slater in a one on one situation. But even if he did manage to kill Slater He would still have to deal with retribution from the members of his crew. Joe did not like being in the vulnerable situation of having to look over his shoulder out of fear of being taken out by an enemy.Joe was used to instilling fear in others. Not experiencing fear for himself. But This night Joe had a plan to change all that. A plan to make himself into an unstoppable force. And that plan depended upon the person who was sitting on the other side of the table. A mysterious figure who was dressed in black pants tucked into his black knee high boots. He was wearing a black long sleeved shirt and necktie. His black gloved hands were resting on the table. He was wearing a black hooded cape. Sitting in the dark corner the hood of his cape was blending in with the shadows and prevented Joe from seeing any features of this person’s face. But Joe did not have to see this person’s face in order to know who he was. This was someone that Joe made a special visit here to see. This was the Sandman.Joe cleared his throat before speaking. “So you’re him. You’re the Sandman.”“The one and only,” was the Sandman’s reply.Joe grinned. “I bet you get a lot of people coming to you thinking that you’re full of crap. That you’re fake. You know. Skeptics and doubters.“Yeah. I get a lot of skeptics right off the bat. But then when you think about it, they’re the ones who seek me out. And they never walk away. So they’re the ones who are full of crap.”Joe laughed. “I hear you. But I’m not like that. You see, I’m a big believer in supernatural things. Magic, ghosts, demons. And when I saw your ad on the internet I knew right from the start that you’re the one who can help me with my problem.”The Sandman crossed his arms against his chest. “And what problem would that be?”“The problem with my competition,” Joe explained. “I like to think of myself as a big dog on the street. When I came around nobody even looked at me the wrong way. I always got what I wanted and took what I wanted. I put down anybody who would come between me and whatever I wanted. Or threatened my operation. But then I’m man enough to admit that once in a while another big dog comes around. So you know what I need in a situation like this?”“A flea collar?”“You’re kidding. Right?” Joe asked. “No. I need to show the other dog that no matter how big he thinks he is or how many of his buddies he has backing him up, I’m still the big dog on the street that he doesn’t want to mess with.”“Ok. So I take it that you want to be the rottweiler to the other guy’s beagle. Am I correct?” asked the Sandman.Joe returned a nod. “Yeah. That’s a great way to put it.”The Sandman continued. “And I understand why you’d want to stay on top. After all, you’ve worked hard to get to where you are right now. Even though you’ve left a bit of collateral damage along the way.”“Collateral damage?”“Why sure. Look at what happened last year when you did that drive by shooting with that guy in Homestead. You wounded your target. But you did manage to kill a lady who was crossing the street in the process.”Joe began to feel nervous upon hearing the Sandman reveal that past incident. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”“Sure you do,” replied the Sandman in a jovial manner. “Or maybe you just forgot. Or what about that time when you were involved in another shooting a few months after that. That was the one where you were gunning for this other guy. He was sitting in his car with his sister. She was, what? seventeen? You fired seven shots, missed the guy, but put three bullets in her head.”Joe’s nervousness began to increase. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I mean. I…”“And don’t forget what happened just last month when you were in that gun fight on the street corner in the East Liberty section of town. You and that other guy really went at it. In fact, you were both so into it with each other that you didn’t notice the girl pushing the baby carriage who got between you two. Your opponent got away. But lucky for her you only managed to put a bullet in her shoulder.”Joe was now so nervous that he began to fidget in his seat. Dammit. How the hell does this guy know all this? he wondered.“What’s the problem, Joe? You’re squirming around in your seat,” said the Sandman. “You have to go to the bathroom? Or maybe you’ve got a bout of nervous guilt.”Joe was no longer nervous. After hearing that comment by the Sandman he now became angered. “Nervous? Me? Hell no! I don’t get nervous. I make other people nervous. And besides, that little witch with the baby carriage shouldn’t have been in the way.”“Yeah. You’re right. It was her fault that she got shot.”This guy is some kind of first class smart ass, thought Joe. I should walk my ass outta here. But I need him. “So ok. Are we gonna make a deal?”“That’s why I’m here,” the Sandman told Joe. “And if you read my ad then you pretty much know how I operate.”“Yeah,” replied Joe. “You want one of my dreams or nightmares and then you’ll grant me a wish. Ok. I got one for you. I remember this nightmare I had last week. I’m running down through the woods with my girlfriend, Brenda. Maybe I’d better make that my ex-girlfriend. Anyway, we’re both running through the woods and we’re being chased by a pack of dogs. Big black dogs. Maybe wolves.”“Dogs, wolves. You didn’t bother to check the closing credits to make sure?” asked the Sandman.Joe ignored the Sandman’s comment and continued. “We’re both running and these mean ass dogs are after us. We’re both ducking past trees and jumping over rocks to try to get away. But these brutes stay on our tails. And while we’re both running Brenda keeps lagging behind. Then we come to this creek. I’m about to jump in and swim across. Then I stop and take a look at Brenda. I take a long look into her eyes. Then I shove her back and she falls. Then I jump into the creek and swim across while the dogs jump on Brenda and start having her for lunch. As I’m swimming I keep hearing her screaming and calling out my name. Joe. Joe. But I keep swimming and I don’t look back. Even when I make it to the other side I still don’t look back. Then I woke up. What do you think?”“No wonder Brenda’s your ex. But that sounds pretty descent. I’ll take it. So now, how can I help you with your little problem?”Joe stood up. “The way I see it, I’m still the top dog on the streets. But the problem is that Willie Slater and his boys have got me outnumbered. The odds against me are seven to one. Even I can’t take on odds like that unless I’ve got an edge. And the best edge that I can think of to send a message to Slater and any other jackass out there who thinks he wants to mess with me is to be immortal. I want to live forever.”Joe waited and watched the dark figure of the Sandman sitting in the chair with his arms still folded against his chest. For a moment there was silence between the two. Then the Sandman gave out a short laugh.“What’s so funny?” Joe asked.“You want to live forever,” replied the Sandman. “I haven’t heard that one in a while.”“So you’ve done it before?”“Yeah. And I think that it’s a really, really stupid idea. With your shooting record maybe you‘d be better off wishing for contact lenses.”“A stupid idea? Why?”“Because Humans being immortal goes against the natural order of things. You were given your limited life spans for a reason.”“So now what? You can’t or won’t do it?” Asked Joe.“Oh, I can do it. After all. you’re a paying customer. If that’s what you really want then you’ve got it. But I’m just saying. It’s a really, really stupid idea.”For a brief moment Joe was silent. Wondering what he should say next. Then he asked, “So you’ll do it? You’ll really make me immortal?”The Sandman held out his hand to Joe. “It’s already done.”It’s done? Joe thought. He looked down and felt his hands over his chest. Then he looked back at the Sandman.“You did it? I’m immortal? Really? I don’t feel any different.”“What did you expect? Your crouch to catch on fire?”Joe looked himself over again. Then he smiled and looked back at the Sandman. He laughed. “I’m immortal!” he blared out with a broad smile on his face. “I’m immortal!” he cried out again. He turned and faced the other patrons who were sitting at the bar and the other tables and shouted out. “You little bugs hear that? I’m immortal! Me! Joe Briggs! I’m not just Joe Briggs. I’m big, badass Joe Briggs! Anybody here want to take me on?”There were no replies from the other patrons. They all remained silent as they stared back at Joe.Joe looked back at the Sandman. He laughed again. “Thanks Sandman. I can’t wait to find Slater and his gang of maggots. Wait until they see me now.”“Go get em, killer,” the Sandman returned. “Show no mercy.”Show no mercy? yeah, right, thought an ecstatic Joe. He laughed a final time. Then he walked away from the table and out of the bar.Joe wasted no time getting into his black hummer and driving to Pittsburgh’s Hazelwood section where he could find Willie Slater and his gang. Joe drove around the streets for several minutes until he spotted Slater’s white car parked in front of the Starlight Lounge. There was a small crowd of people gathered in front of the establishment. Among them Joe recognized a tall black male in his late twenties, wearing white sneakers, blue jeans, and a black shirt. His chief rival, Willie Slater. Slater was holding a bottle of beer in his hand while engaged in a conversation with a young black woman in a red dress. Standing at the left and right were young black and white men that Joe also recognized as members of Slater’s crew. They were also drinking beers while having laughter and cheerful conversations with young women. Looks like I’m going to have to break up the party, Joe thought. He circled around the block and then parked his hummer across the street from the lounge.Joe got out of his hummer and looked down at the .9 MM pistol that was tucked into his waistband. Then with full confidence in his newly acquired power he strode over to confront Slater. Joe only managed to get halfway across the street before Slater spotted him. Slater turned his attention from the woman and pointed at Joe.“Look at this. Look who’s crashing the party,” Slater blared out. The other men turned their attention to Joe.Joe stopped in the middle of the street and held out his arms in proud defiance. “What the hell are you gonna do about it? What the hell do you think you can do?”Slater laughed. “Are you lost or something? Did you get a flat tire? You want a battery jump? Those are the only reasons why I think you’d be stupid enough to come here.”“Stupid? Oh I’m not stupid,” Joe shouted back. “I’m not the one who doesn’t know what he’s messing with.”“Is that a fact?” said Slater. Taking a step forward. “Who the hell are you all of a sudden? Superman or something?”Joe laughed at that notion. “Superman? Superman aint’ got nothing on me.”To prove that point Joe drew the pistol out of his waistband and took aim at Slater. Slater was quick to push the woman aside and then duck behind his car. The other women in the area screamed and scattered while the men drew their guns and ducked down. Joe took aim at Slater’s car and squeezed the trigger. His two shots shattered the car’s driver’s side window. He turned to the left and fired a shot at a man hiding behind a black car. Shattering it’s back window.Joe turned back to Slater’s car. “Hey Slater! Come on out! Are you scared of me?” he shouted. His gun hand moved to the right and he fired at a blue car parked next to Slater’s. Two bullets bored holes into the car’s trunk. “Come on out, Slater! Meet the indestructible man!”Slater responded by firing a shot from behind his car that struck Joe directly in his abdomen. Joe felt the strong pressure of the bullet ripping through his body. He took a step back. Then there was pain. Followed by the moist sensation of flowing blood.“What the hell?” Joe gasped out.A second shot rang out. A bullet tore through Joe’s right thigh. He shouted out in pain and folded over. Now several more shots were fired. Joe staggered back towards his hummer and returned fire at his adversaries. The pain in Joe’s thigh began to grow worse with each step that he took. He was forced to limp towards his hummer while turning to blindly shoot back at the men who were trying to kill him. Two more bullets struck Joe’s right thigh. They caused him to once again cry out in pain. As did the bullet that struck his left shoulder.Joe stumbled and fell onto the street. While laying on his stomach he managed to lift his arm and fire off two more shots at Slater’s car. The shots continued to ring out. Bullets were striking the pavement around Joe. One of them hit his left leg. Again Joe cried out. A quick thought flashed through his mind. This aint’ supposed to happen. I’m immortal.Joe aimed his gun at the black car on the left and fired two shots. He then took aim at the blue car and fired one shot. Gotta get the hell outta here, was his next frantic thought. Using every once of power that his left arm could muster Joe began to pull himself towards the hummer. He tried to use his legs to help push himself along but the pain from his gunshot wounds were too great. He yelped out with each movement of his body. Blood from his wounded thighs began to pour our from the legs of his jeans, leaving a trail as he was dragging himself forward.Joe managed to reach his hummer. But then he realized that the driver’s side door was too high for him to reach while he was laying on the street. He tried to stand up on his wounded legs, but the pain would not permit it. He reached his left hand up to the door’s handle and felt a bullet tearing through it’s muscle and tearing and shattering it’s ulna.Joe pulled his arm back down. Gritting his teeth in pain. I can’t take much more of this. Too much pain. I’m immortal. This aint’ supposed to happen.Since Joe could not climb up into his hummer his next best option was to drag himself around it and take cover. Joe fired two more shots at Slater’s car. In instant retaliation several more shots were fired back at him. His left elbow was growing sore as he used his wounded arm to drag himself along. As he approached the front of the hummer the vehicle was being riddled with bullets. Two more bullets drilled into Joe’s back. Joe let out a grunt in pain but kept moving. His entire body was in pain from his bullet wounds. His torso and legs were wet with his own blood. His even his breathing was painful.With great effort Joe managed to drag himself around the hummer. Taking heavy breaths he stopped to rest for a moment. But Slater and his crew were still shooting at him. He could hear their bullets striking the opposite side of the hummer. Then after a minute the shooting stopped. It was then that Joe realized a minute was all he would have left to live. He was outnumbered, heavily wounded and laying helpless. It would not take long for Slater and his men to close in on him. Joe was in desperate need of help. And to his mind there was only one individual that he could turn to.“This aint’ right!” Joe shouted. “This aint’ supposed to happen! Help me! Help me, Sandman! Please help me!”With the sound of a faint whirr the hummer’s passenger’s side window rolled down. Joe looked up and saw a figure wearing a black hood facing him. Between the darkness and the hood Joe could not see this individual’s face. But he knew who it was.“Sandman. Help me! You gotta help me.”“Sure Joe. What’s the problem?” the Sandman asked in a casual manner.Joe could not believe that he asked such a question. “What’s the problem? are you blind? Look at me. I’m getting my ass shot off.”“That’s usually the risk you take when you enter a gun battle,” the Sandman told him.“But this aint’ supposed to happen. We had a deal and you lied to me!”“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold your horses. I don’t lie to anybody.”“The hell you didn’t!” Joe bellowed back. “You were supposed to make me immortal. But look at me. I’m dying here. I want a damn refund.”“You want a refund? Where the hell do you think you’re at? K-Mart? I don’t give refunds.”“Well then you still cheated me, you jerk. I wanted to be immortal. And I got shot up.”"Ok, Joe. It’s time for me to give you a lesson in arcane biology 101. Class is now in session. You asked me to make you immortal. Not indestructible. You chose the former. Not the latter. I gave you what you asked for. I made you immortal. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t be hurt. And don’t forget that I told you this was a really, really stupid idea. Is any of this sinking in?”Joe was about to answer when he heard Slater’s voice calling out in from across the street. “Benny. Joey. Cross the street at the right. Darnell, Shawn. You go left. Close in on him. Get him.”They’re coming for me. I’m trapped, thought Joe. “You hear that? I’m trapped like a cockroach. I’m trapped. Help me. Please help me.”“Are you going to cry? It’s really embarrassing watching you tough guy types cry.”Fearful for his life, Joe was indeed close to tears. “I don’t wanna die. Please. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die.”“You’re not going to die, Joe. I fixed that. You’re just going to lay there and bleed. But you won’t die.”“I can’t take it anymore. I can’t take it. You gotta get me out of here.”“You want out? Sure, Joe. But it will cost you.”“What? You want me to tell you about one of my dreams? Now?”“Good a time as any,” the Sandman told him.“Can’t you get me out of here and let me pay you later?”“Excuse me, Joe. I think I owe you an apology. Somehow I must have given you the impression that I’m running a charity.”“Ok! Ok!” Joe was running out of time. He had to think of a dream to give to the Sandman before Slater’s men closed in on him. Then one came to his mind. “Alright. I had this one two weeks ago. I saw myself floating someplace. It was all dark. But I could still see myself. And I couldn’t move. Then I started falling. I kept falling but I couldn’t scream or do anything because I still couldn’t move. Then I kept falling until I woke up. Is that one good enough?”“Typical, Oh my God. Help me. I’m falling dream. So generic. That’s sort of like having a $50 bill at a resturaunt and paying it with a bag Full of pennies. But it will do.”“Then get me the hell out of here!” Joe bellowed.He heard a male voice to his left. “There he is. I got him.” Joe looked over and saw a young man had just crossed the street several feet away. Joe could see him aiming his gun. Then there was a loud pop and a brief flash. Joe then felt the horrible pain of a bullet penetrating his face, just above his nose. Joe screamed. He remained conscious, but his vision went black. Joe pointed his gun hand and fired three shots back. Not sure if he was able to hit anything at this point. The blood from this new wound began to flow down Joe’s face and into his mouth. The coppery taste of his own blood was nauseating.“Please get me out of here! Please get me out of here! Please!” Joe pleaded to the Sandman.Joe heard the Sandman’s voice in response. “Sure thing, Joe. Anyplace special you want to go?”“Anywhere! Anywhere! Anywhere!” was Joe’s loud and hysterical answer.“Ok. I hope you’ve brushed up on your Spanish.”Spanish? To Joe’s mind that can only mean one thing. Mexico. Joe listened. It was quiet. The shooting had stopped. Did he do it? Am I gone?“Somebody! Somebody help me!” Joe called out.Joe heard voices. The voices of several young men. All of them speaking in a Spanish dialect. Mexico. I’m really in Mexico. I need a Mexican doctor.Joe listened as the voices grew louder. Then he felt the pressure of a foot pressing down on his back. Then someone was prying the gun out of his hand. While that was happening he felt hands digging into his pockets. His wallet was taken from out of his right back pocket. He felt his cell phone being taken from his left hip pocket.“Hey! Hey! What the hell are you doing? That’s mine! Give me back my stuff!”Joe heard the young Spanish voices now laughing. The sound of this angered him.“Give my back my stuff! What are you? Kids? Give it back or I’m gonna kick your ass. Whoever you are!”Joe received a reply. Even though he could not see the foot he felt the impact of an unmistakable kick to his face. Joe felt several other feet kicking and stomping his body. All the while the young Spanish voices continued to laugh. Then enduring all the pain that he could Joe passed out.When Joe awakened he had no idea how long he was unconscious. But he was still blind. He felt the soft cushion of a bed beneath him and wondered where he was. A soft female voice with a Spanish accent told him that he was in a small clinic in a village called San Vista. Located in Argentina. Joe was shocked to hear this. Argentina was a far cry from Mexico. Joe learned that the female voice was that of a nurse who was working at the clinic. She told Joe that he was found laying in the street. Badly wounded and bloodied. Someone had brought him here to the clinic where their doctor made his best effort to repair his gunshot wounds. But there was bad news for Joe. Very bad. The nurse told him that the damage from his wounds were severe. The bullet that he had taken to his face had damaged the optic nerves to both Joes eyes. He was now permanently blind. A bullet had severed Joes spine. That damage left him paralyzed from the waist down. Joe was shocked to hear this dire news. He was not only blind, but he will never walk again.At first Joe began to cry at his dire situation. Then he started to laugh. Not a laughter of joy. But a laughter of insanity.He was now blind, unable to walk, penniless, and thousands of miles away from home with no way to return. And to compound his problems Joe was immortal. He would live forever. Blind, unable to walk, and totally helpless. In the weeks ahead, after Joe’s injuries healed he was forced to leave the clinic. He was given a wheelchair and sent out on his own. And so Joe Briggs. The big dog on the street, was destined to spend an unending life living as a blind, homeless beggar in a wheelchair in a small village in Argentina. But at least Joe had that edge that over the other beggars here. He was still immortal.
E-mail me when people leave their comments –

You need to be a member of Blacksciencefictionsociety to add comments!

Join Blacksciencefictionsociety