The Poe Consequence Read online

  “What time you want me?”

  “Eleven o’clock. We’ll go over the tools. I’ll tell you what they’re for. Then you’ll clean ‘em.”

  On the third weekend working with Javier, Face taught him something new.

  “Before we get under the car, I’ll explain about changing oil.” Face held the filter wrench in one hand and a drain pan in the other. “Under the car there’s a drain plug you gotta unscrew to let all the old sludge out.” Extending his arm so Javier could get a better view of the drain pan, he continued. “You use this to catch the shit. When that’s done, you loosen the oil filter with the filter wrench. When it’s real loose, unscrew the rest with your hand.”

  Javier seemed distracted. Face had observed him looking up and down the street several times that day, showing an apparent lack of interest in anything he said. When Javier’s attention returned to the filter wrench, he looked like he couldn’t give a shit. “Yeah, okay,” he answered.

  “Hey, you gonna listen to me or not, man? If you’re bored go home.”

  “No, no, really, I wanna learn,” Javier replied, snapping back to attention. “Sorry.”

  Face stared at Javier. The kid’s behavior seemed unusual. “We’re gonna get under the car now,” he said. “I’ll explain the rest when we’re…” In an instant, Face went silent and his body stiffened. A dizzying array of flashing lights caused him to shut his eyes and grapple with a momentary loss of balance. He suddenly visualized two people driving toward him in a brown Impala convertible and a semi-automatic pointing out the window. In his head he heard the distinctive sound of bullets tearing through the air coupled with a fiery light exploding outward. But he saw the shooting occurring somewhere else, with the Impala just a few feet away and some fat kid standing in front of the car in danger of getting hit. He recognized the area as someplace in the neighborhood, but a drive-by headed toward his house at that moment and he had to act fast.

  Face looked up the street and spotted the Impala making a slow turn from around a corner two blocks to the west. He couldn’t run inside the house and put his mother in harm’s way from spraying bullets so he snatched the car keys out of his pocket preparing to drive away.

  “Javier!” he shouted, seizing his arm. “Run home! Hurry!”

  The boy ignored Face’s plea as he scanned the street again. Pulling away from his grasp, Javier backed away, a revealing smile appearing on his face. “Lobos comin’ for your ass, man!” he yelled.

  Face realized the little punk had set him up for this. With a swift lurch forward, he grabbed Javier by the hair and yanked his head down as his knee came up, catching the boy square on the nose and causing him to drop to the ground, screaming in pain. As he ran toward his Firebird, the advancing car accelerated, accompanied by the full throttled sound of its engine. Jamming the key into the ignition, the car didn’t start on the first attempt, but ignoring his dwindling chances of survival, Face’s second attempt got the engine roaring its intention.

  He shifted into drive and slammed his right foot on the accelerator just as the Impala knocked against the side of his back bumper. Losing control for a brief moment, he regained command and sped down Council Street. Hoping to catch them off guard, he made a sharp right turn at the Dawson Street alley but two misplaced trashcans blocked his path. Having no time to consider their weight, he scattered them like two oversized bowling pins. He sped off, but those several seconds of decreased speed allowed the Impala to close the gap. Face glanced in his rearview mirror and caught sight of the MAC-ninety assault rifle directed toward his car. His ability to increase his distance on these small, narrow streets seemed doubtful, so he decided to try for the safety of the freeway. If he escaped from the alley he could take Rockwood Street to Belmont, north to Temple, east to Glendale Boulevard, and get on the 101.

  Nearing Rockwood, Face tightened his grip when he saw some boys playing soccer at the end of the alley. He leaned on his horn to force them out of the way, but as he prepared to make a right turn he hit the brakes when a fat kid, the fat kid, darted out from behind a large bush into the middle of the alley and froze in apparent terror at the sight of the onrushing cars. Face now recognized the same area he had visualized a few minutes before. The pursuing driver increased his speed, trying to force his way along the driver’s side of the Firebird, but Face spun his wheel to the far left and stepped on the accelerator, blocking the path of the Impala and preventing the boy from getting hit. As the front left bumper of Face’s car made contact with the Impala, the Lobos skidded to a halt, allowing the fat kid to escape unharmed. Face caught a split-second glimpse of the Lobo holding the MAC-ninety. He had a hairless, fleshy scar where much of the eyebrow should have been, and Face had the fleeting thought that he’d seen the shooter before. The Lobo brought the rifle up to take aim.

  Swerving back to the right in an attempt to escape the bullets, Face heard the blast of gunfire and exploding glass a split-second before a detonation of severe pain throughout his entire left arm. The fire-like sensation surged and spread, leaving his arm dangling like a cracked twig. He felt the blood dampening his shirt, but couldn’t tell how much he was losing or how fast. He gripped the wheel with his right hand as the pulsating blasts of pain threatened to overtake his ability to drive. Kicking hard on the accelerator, Face hurried into the street toward Belmont knowing they intended to finish him off. The eastbound traffic on Temple Street forced him to stop at several points as the Lobos remained on his tail, weaving through other cars to maintain a close presence. He wondered if they’d follow him onto the freeway. The unrelenting throbbing grew tougher to ignore, his dilemma harder to solve.

  The break he needed appeared in the form of a large eighteen-wheeler heading north on Glendale Boulevard. The driver of the truck had stopped at the light with his left blinker flashing, signaling his intention to turn west on Temple. Face slowed to a stop at his green light, shifted into park, and gunned his engine several times, pretending to have mechanical trouble. As a multitude of horns blared around him and the green light changed to red, Face concentrated on the truck now easing forward into the middle of the street starting his turn. Waiting until the last possible second, Face punched hard on the accelerator while veering left in front of the truck, avoiding a collision with the startled driver by a few feet. Streaking up Glendale Boulevard to Bellevue Avenue, he looked back and saw the truck completing its turn, blocking the path of the Impala and preventing it from advancing any further. Less than half a minute later, as he sped onto the 101 North entrance of the Hollywood Freeway, he knew he’d overcome one problem while another had reached the breaking point.

  Face needed immediate medical attention but driving himself to an ER meant talking with authorities he wanted to avoid. He trusted one person to get him to a doctor and circumvent dealing with the police, but his cell phone sat at the bottom of his left pocket—the same side where he’d been hit. Unable to use his left arm, he hoped to make it to her street, pull over to the side, and rip off the pocket with his right hand in order to reach his phone. The cars on the freeway sped along like normal, but reaching each off-ramp seemed a more arduous task than the one before. Face gritted his teeth and focused through the pain and sudden lightheadedness, determined to endure every necessary struggle to reach his sister, Veronica.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  I swear Veronica, I never ever want to see James again!”

  Veronica tried to pay attention and offer compassion to her heartbroken roommate, but she’d heard this all before. Right now she needed to leave for Kevin’s house, where she planned to meet his mother for the first time.

  “Kimberly, you’re my best friend,” she said, gathering her purse and car keys. “I’ll always be there for you, but right now I’ve got to go. I guess you’ll be spending more time here again so we’ll have plenty of chances to talk, I promise.”

  On her way toward the garage, Veronica thought about her own relationship. With all of Kevin’s attributes, his greatest gi
ft to her remained his continued patience about anything sexual, maintaining his promise to take as much time as she required. Kevin’s understanding exceeded her expectations over anything she thought possible for a man. She had learned to trust him, and maybe, just maybe, a transformation had started. That impenetrable wall which once seemed so encompassing and protective, was, she sensed, dismantling brick by brick. Perhaps one day she’d be ready.

  Arriving at her car, Veronica placed a container of homemade enchiladas on the passenger seat. She grew dismayed at the sight of the clock on the dashboard showing two p.m. I should have been there by now, she scolded herself. As the security gate opened, Veronica spotted a green Firebird parked across the street that looked identical to Alex’s car, with the same colored flames on the side. Pulling out from the garage, she realized the open window on the driver’s side had been shattered, with only small shards of glass still clinging to the frame. A sudden, escalating wave of panic overtook her. Veronica jerked the wheel to make a U-turn and parked behind the car. Rushing out she looked through the open window and muffled the sound of her scream with a hand when she saw Alex lying on the front seat with his shirt darkened by fresh blood.

  Veronica leaned into the car. “Alex!” she shouted. “Alex! Can you hear me?”

  Her brother rolled his head upward to look at her. “Veronica,” he whispered, “need…help.”

  She nodded. “You’ll have to sit up. Do you understand? Do you think you can sit up?”

  “Don’t know,” he murmured. “I’ll…try.”

  Veronica looked at her wounded brother, hoping she hadn’t found him too late. She ran to her car and waited for a chance to maneuver alongside his door before turning her hazard lights on. She heard a harsh yell that froze her in her tracks. Alex had achieved an upright position, taking deep, labored breaths.

  “Alex, can you get out?” He closed his eyes, and nodded, his pain obvious. She opened her passenger door and turned back. “Alright, Alex,” she said, fighting back panic. “Come on!” Trying her best to support his weight, Veronica held him by the waist and summoned all her strength to help him into the car. She eased him in and put her face close to his. “I have to move your car where nobody can see it,” she told him. “Try to hang on!”

  Alex closed his eyes and nodded. Veronica rushed into the Firebird and drove the car to the visitor parking spaces in the back lot of her apartment building. She slammed the door shut and ran back to the street, relieved to see Alex’s eyes open and looking at her. Within moments she headed for the emergency room of the same hospital where she worked as the day care center director. She understood the hospital’s obligation to report a shooting incident, but she couldn’t take the chance of Alex talking with the police. Veronica hesitated as she reached for her phone, uncertain if she placed her job and reputation at risk by the call she needed to make.

  “Stephen, I need your help!” she cried out.

  “Veronica?” Dr. Hobart replied. “What’s the matter?”

  “My brother’s been shot.”

  “Shot?” he echoed. “Oh my God. What’s his condition?”

  “I don’t know. His shirt’s full of blood. I’m really worried.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “On my way to the hospital,” she said, her voice cracking. “That’s why I called you. I need your help.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Call them for me, Stephen. Tell them not to call the police. Please. It’s very important.”

  “I don’t know if I can do that,” he told her. “There are regulations that have to be followed with any gunshot.”

  “Stephen, please. I can’t have the police talking to my brother. Not yet.”

  “I’ll ask them for you but they may not listen to me,” he said. “What happened with your brother?”

  “I’ll explain everything later, I promise,” she answered. “But right now I need to get to the ER as fast as possible.”

  “I’m so sorry, Veronica,” Hobart said. “I hope he’s going to be alright. But if the police aren’t called in now they’ll definitely question you if he doesn’t make it. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” she said quietly. “Of course.”

  “I don’t like being in the dark on this,” he said, his discontent obvious. “It goes against my better judgment. But knowing you as I do, I’ll see what can be done.”

  Glancing over at the sight of her wounded, moaning brother, Veronica hoped what she had always hoped for from the time he was a little boy; that he would be all right.

  * * *

  He had cleaned the house, returned from the market, chopped the vegetables and prepared the marinade for the chicken. Kevin should have by now had his ear pressed against the kitchen door, listening in on the conversation between his mother and Veronica. But he had no clue where she was, and her roommate had informed him she left in a rush over an hour before. Calling her cell phone had proven fruitless up to that point, but he continued to leave messages each time, including a few minutes ago.

  Kevin returned to the front room where Seth sat playing a video game and his mother worked on a crossword puzzle. “I don’t know what to say other than, “I’m sorry, Mom’,” he said. “I called her again and left another message.”

  “Do you think she’s okay?” Seth asked.

  “At this point, I don’t know what to think,” Kevin replied.

  “It’s possible that something came up and she can’t answer her phone,” his mother said, looking up from the paper.

  “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “But there must be a good reason why she hasn’t called. She’s looking forward to meeting you.”

  The phone rang.

  “Kevin!” Veronica was crying.

  “Veronica! What’s wrong? Where are you?”

  “The hospital.”

  “What? What happened? Are you hurt?”

  “It’s not me,” she answered softly. “I’m fine.”

  He exhaled with relief. “Then why are you there?”

  “Alex,” she said, her voice soft and raspy. “He was shot.”

  “Oh, no. How bad is it?”

  “He lost a lot of blood, but…” Kevin could hear Veronica’s muted sobs. He turned back to Seth and his mother and mouthed, “She’s okay.”

  Veronica continued, sounding more under control. “They removed a bullet from deep in his shoulder. The doctor said he was lucky. A few more inches and he may not have survived.”

  “How long will he have to stay there?”

  “They’ll keep him overnight for observation. He’s still pretty weak but if there are no complications, they think he’ll be able to leave about noon. I’m going to stay here with him.”

  “Would you like some company?” he asked. “You could probably use a hand to hold right now.”

  “Thanks, but not now, okay? I have to think about what to do with Alex. The doctor said he wants to see him next week and that he’ll need at least ten days of care before he can start doing things on his own.”

  “Why can’t he go home?” Kevin asked. “Your mother could give him the attention he’ll need.”

  “Alex wasn’t able to talk much, but he told me the Lobos came after him at the house. I’m sure they’ll be looking for him. If he goes back too soon, they’ll probably try something again. That could put my mother’s life in danger, too.”

  “Will she be all right?”

  “She’s probably safer without him there. Maybe if they don’t see his car for a while, they’ll move on to someone else.”

  The two pair of eyes in the room continued to look at him. He walked with the phone away from earshot. “Do you think the Lobos know where he is now?”

  “I asked him the same question,” she said. “He’s certain he lost them. They don’t leave their neighborhood much so Alex is safe here.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “If he’d been followed he’d be dead rig
ht now. I found him half-conscious and bleeding badly in his car. He wouldn’t have been able to defend himself. That tells me he escaped.”

  “So he’ll stay with you?” Kevin asked.

  “That’s not going to work either,” she told him. “My roommate broke up with her boyfriend again, so she’s going to be around for a while. If I bring him home she’ll start asking questions I don’t want answered. I’ve never told her about my brother and the Diablos. I don’t like anyone knowing about that part of my life.”

  “You’re right,” he said. “That’s none of her business. How about renting a motel room until Alex is able to return home? If you need my help for any reason, you could stay at the Ramada Inn down the street from here.”

  “That would get expensive,” she said. “And I can’t afford to take time off from my job, so Alex would be left alone a lot.”

  “I’ll help you with the money,” he said.

  “I won’t have you paying for my problem, Kevin. And the thought of him being stuck in bed inside a motel room doesn’t make me feel right.”

  “I love you, okay? That means your problem is my problem. That’s the way I see things now.”

  “You don’t know how much I appreciate that,” she replied. “But whatever I decide has to come from me and me alone. The thing is, I don’t have much time. I’ll need a place by tomorrow and I’m not leaving here until he’s released.”

  “I’m just trying to find something I can do,” he said.

  “I know,” she said, the weariness in her voice apparent. “Right now I just need to sit down with a cup of coffee and decide what’s best.”

  “Is Alex really going to be stuck in bed like you say?”

  “The doctor told me he’s going to feel very weak for a while and to expect him to spend most of the next few days taking pain pills and drifting in and out of sleep.”

  “I have an idea, Veronica, but if Seth finds out it could ruin everything.”

  “I’m listening,” she said.

  “There’s an add-on attached to my garage. The owner built it as a guest room when he lived here. I’m using it to store some of Warren’s old things. It’s got everything you’ll need if we’re only talking about you staying a short time. There’s a bed for Alex, a couch you can sleep on, and a small bathroom with a tiny but workable shower. There’s no refrigerator so you’ll be on your own for food. Hopefully Alex will be released tomorrow at the time the doctor said he’d be. Seth will still be at school.”