Rat Hunters

By Aaron Bebo

When Pawn was on the streets he ran with the WOLVES, but when he is sentenced to twenty years for shooting and paralyzing his girlfriend Kyann; in the midst of a double cross. He realizes he’s no longer part of the pack, and joins a new gang behind bars called The Rat Hunter’s. Only right after being snitched on by his girlfriend. But running with the Rat’s has made the one time stud eager to resurface early. So he hires a lawyer and heads back to court in hopes of giving sometime back.
Out in the streets the one time kids were now grown thugs stepping in the shoes; he and so many other gangsters’ had left vacant. Pawn’s little cousin Peanut had just blew trial for the murder of a cop, and would be pacing in a cell for the rest of his days; according to the courts. So as Pawn’s headed to try and get out he’s coming in. Ready to bring his thug to the next level, but he must first realize; life in these cages’ were much different from the wild jungle he just left. You can hold the beast in captivity but you can’t hold the beast.
Pawn knows his quickest way to freedom is through cold hard cash. Luckily for him he still had enough spoils stashed around to foot the bill. But what he doesn’t count on is Kyann appearing back on the scene seeking the same thing she had wanted twelve years before; revenge. He soon realizes he is a lone wolf, and not only that the double cross is back on. Prison was checkers. Freedom is chess. He had to think like a king and move like a pawn. The game he had left had changed and now everybody seemed to be crossing the next man, or even worse squealing… 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bad Apple Cru
• Release date: Dec 19, 2016
• ISBN: 9781386527114

Aaron Bebo

Aaron Bebo is the author of the Love Drugs 7 Hip Hop series, and a list of other urban street based novels. He has been dubbed The Director With A Pen by his loyal readership. For the derail attributes of his writing. His debut Change For A dollar is a certified street classic. Aaron started his writing career in the mid-eighties. Composing song lyrics with thoughts of becoming an entertainer. He was detoured from pursuing a music career due to poor choices. Choices which eventually lead to his incarceration. While incarcerated he read and developed his writing to a point, he could express himself in stories. Once released he focused on getting his work published. He used his knowledge on publishing he learned from the music business, and within a year of his release he had published his debut title. Since releasing the title Aaron his contributed several other novels, and has appeared in many anthologies.  Aside from writing he is also a host on Real Raw Radio. A Blogtalk show in which he along with other co-host interview celebrities, and discuss life issues. He hopes to work in radio and television one day, possibly doing voice overs, commercials or hosting some type of syndicated show. Feeling his voice will add value to those markets. His overall objective is to touch the people through his words, and continue to be a voice that brings the urban sub-culture to the surface. He currently resides in the south-east United states.    

Book preview

Artificial Environment

Yo Pawn!

A voice boomed over the low rumble from the convicts in the reception area of Marshall State Prison. The new arrivals had arrived about a half hour ago and it was always busy and chaotic at this time of the morning.

The sounds of keys and chains danced off tile walls. While grown men showered in square tiled cubicles. Soaping up as much as they could with the piece of soap smaller than a hotel bar. Correctional Officers called out names over the chatter of the convicts.

Pawn look up and saw his little cousin Sean, everybody called him Peanut. His aunt had told his grandmother to tell him to look out for him he was on his way. He had heard Sean had become quite the thug out on the turf since he had been gone.

Everybody was buzzing about Peanut from Archer Hill. For a while he hadn’t even known it was little Sean people were talking about. Until he ran into one of his homies from the hood. He had told him how Sean was out in the streets turning it up! All that turning it up had end up getting him a natural life bid.

Pawn was thirty four. He had been in since twenty two. He was serving two consecutive ten year sentences. He was actually in the reception area waiting to be chained up to be transported back down to the county jail for a writ he had before the court. He was hoping to give back the rest of his sentence or at least some of it.

He needed to transfer out of this society into a new one. One with more rules for him to break; prisons were built to keep his type of thinking confined. He was a loose cannon, a goon; a thug, and time hadn’t changed that. Just molded him into a hardened criminal.

He stood up and walked out of the holding cubicle he was sitting in and started toward where Peanut was. He still looked the same to him. He had gotten a little taller and he had grown his hair out. But other than that he still looked like little Sean to him. He extended his hand and pulled Sean close to his chest when he grasped his palm. What up little nigga.

Peanut smiled as he eased out of his cousin’s embrace. I’m good. I’m good.

Pawn smirked and looked around the reception area and then back at his cousin. You think so.

Peanut glanced around the reception area, then back at his cousin; and nodded his head. Yeah. I’m good. This ain’t shit! Fuck a nigga situation in here ya hear me kinfolk. I got letters with no guaranteed mail!

That’s what I’m tryin’ to tell you young blood. This ya life now you gave it all up. Ya birthdays and Christmases are goin’ be different. When ya dick get hard at three in the mornin’ and you can’t roll over and slide in the only real comfort you got in the chaotic world you live in. The main people you neglected and disappointed. Will be the same ones you’ll blame for not caring enough about a situation you created for yourself.

Nigga you dun turnt into the Chaplain in this piece? Peanut said with a half of grin.

Naw I’m the same nigga. I’m just tryin’ to help you not be me.

Peanut looked at his family. He had looked up to the one standing before him. But he was his own man. He was sure of that.

I could never be you. I’ve seen niggas die in the same air space as me. Always me champ.

Pawn thought about his aunts’ words; ‘Look out for little Sean.’ He could hear her telling his grandmother, as she plundered through the pantry filling her bag with food. One Sunday when he called home.

Right never me. But you gonna see that. I’m bout to go down to court and try to give these crackers some of this time back. I already let my peoples know you might be coming through. So you good, Pawn paused and looked at him straight in the eyes. Not because of me lil Cuz. Because you, are you. But because I’m me too still."

True indeed. How long you think you gonna be down in County?

Nigga I’m hoping to walk out the courtroom. But in real time, bout ninety days. Either way I’m gonna have to come back here and get processed out the system.

I can dig it blood. I hope you spread wings out there. You ain’t missin’ nuthin’ it’s the same ole shit out there.

You only think it’s the same ole shit cause you doin’ the same ole shit. There’s always more. Why you think Y’all niggas wasn’t seeing me when I was getting money. The minute I made my first ten bands my mentality changed!

He looked at him and shook his head.

When I had ten bands in the stash. I started to crack my window to speak to niggas on the block. Nigga it got so big niggas is out in the streets making DVD’s about it! He looked at his cousin sternly.

I know you know. I already got word you called my name in a couple of them joints. What niggas don’t realize when they shootin’ them DVD’s in the hood. I don’t give a fuck who it is. If you wreck out, do ya thing on the pavement or whatever. But if you get in front of the camera before or after. Nigga you tellin He looked his cousin up and down, as he raised his eyebrows.

See niggas don’t realize they be fuckin’ up other niggas appeals. Talkin’ bout niggas, shoutin’ niggas on these DVD’s. Thinking they keepin’ it real but screamin’ squeeze the rat. Caution your steps. My story is deep. Pawn said.

C’mon cuzo you know you a soldier in the streets.

Soldier. Pawn cocked his head sideways looking at him.

That’s what you reduced me to after using my name to solidify your gangsta! I’m a general at least; or you wouldn’t have used me as a staple for your shit. I’m bout to holla at my homie giving out the bed rolls. You’ll be straight when you get in the back... This world don’t know you. Come in feet first or you’ll die squatting.

I’m good relative.

Alright lil Cuz.

Sean Morris! A C.O. holding a clip board looked around the reception area.

That’s you playa. Remember no one knows you here. Don’t show out. Just listen to the men in the suits til you get to your bed. Start off comfortable. I love you Cuz. Pawn said.

I love you too. Peanut said, pulling up his pants as he started toward the officer with the clipboard.

Pawn watched his little cousin. For the first time since he got here he regretted he was leaving. He knew his peoples would hold Peanut down, but he didn’t want his immature energy to cause no unnecessary drama. It was enough going on already. They didn’t need to inherit any beefs. He made his way over to his homie Junior to let him know what was up. They’d be chaining him up soon. Taking him down to County where he would hopefully get a closer date to some sunlight.

You Morris? The officer asked as Peanut walked up on him.

Yeah.

The officer arched his eyebrows. Yeah... Yes sir.

Peanut looked the young black man up and down. The officer could not have been no more than two or three years older than him. He had a short brush cut with waves and cornerback shoulders, Peanut thought about how easy he would crumble if he sent a quick right hook to his jaw. But he thought about the words Pawn had just told him.

Yes sir. He said staring the officer down.

You up for the nurse next. Don’t be kicking it with the homies. You ain’t on the block no more. You on my time now. Get in there. The officer said, waving the clipboard to a small room off to the right.

He clenched his teeth so hard his jaws locked. He stepped around the officer and into the room. The young Asian doctor smiled a terrible over bite as he welcomed him into the room.

He was starting to feel sick. But not the type that required medical attention. He was feeling home sick; and he was home.

Pawn stepped up onto the bus the shackles on his feet made him walk with a slight limp and the chain around his waist squeezed his sides. His wrist were cuffed and attached to a black box in the middle; attached to the chain around his waist. He slid in an empty seat across from Bilal one of the Muslim convicts that was also going back down to court for some type of appeal or hearing. There were also four Hispanic convicts’ two whites, and three more blacks.

The transport bus was the make and model of a Greyhound bus. The only difference was the gated space right behind the driver that would seat four armed transport officers. Once the convicts were behind the second gate and seated the gate was locked and the other gate leading to the driver was locked. The guards would then get their weapons out of a steel lock box and radio in they were set for transport.

Pawn set his legal folder on the empty seat next to him and leaned back. He tried to relax but he was anxious for the bus to pull out of the prison. He felt butterflies when he felt the driver put the bus into gear. When the bus stopped between the final security gates before exiting the prison. Pawn watched as the officers walked around the bus with long handled mirrors that allowed them to look beneath the bus. Once they made it pass the final security check point He felt a sense of relief. His heart rate increase as they began driving along the old country road. He looked out his window and began thinking about the last time he was free...

It was 3 A.M. and Lollipop’s was jammed packed and jumping. Red lights lit up dark corners, and captured silhouettes of figures smoking cigarettes or reefers. Hip hop music echoed against the walls and young girls with heavy make-up and skimpy outfits filled the atmosphere. Young thugs moved through the crowd like wolves. There was one girl that everybody had their eye on. Kyann Bailey. She was a fine caramel beauty long silky hair. Her lips were full and her eyes were dark and inviting.

She walked off the dance floor back to the booth she was sharing with her girls, Karen and La’Trice. Pawn reached out and grabbed her hand as she passed by. She slowed down and allowed him to step up on her. Once they were a few feet away from his friends she stopped.

What’s good? You ain’t tell me you were comin’ up in here tonight. He said close to her ear.

He saw Snakebite and a few of his homies eyeing as he leaned in closer. He wasn’t worried about them though. He had fifteen shots to give from the Glock 19 he was wearing concealed in his waistband.

I wasn’t sure I was coming out until the last minute. Karen called me and asked me to hang out with her.

Yo what’s the deal with you and that nigga Snakebite?

What you mean? That was just a dance. C’mon man.

C’mon man. Yo listen. I got paper at ya spot, and we ain’t talkin’ bout no play dough! I know them niggas is getting’ money over there on that block and I know they be watchin’ ya spot. You just came back from the Bahamas you think niggas don’t know who you were out there with?

It ain’t nuthin’ like that. I been knowin’ Snake all my life. We ain’t never had nuthin'. I know they grimy. But he know better than to come around my house with that shit. We just cool from the hood. Pawn looked in her eyes as he nodded. A’ight. Who you leavin’ here with?

Karen was probably gonna drop me off, but I can ride out with you.

He stole a glance at Snakebite and his crew, and then he looked at his homies; before looking in her eyes again. Nah. Go with Karen. I got some shit to do after the club. I’ll come by when I’m done. Y’all gonna get something to eat before you go in?

More than likely. Unless you gonna bring me sumthin’

Pawn grinned. You already know what I’m bringing. Slapping a palm off her buttocks.

I can’t wait. She winked and started toward the booth.

He watched her go. He looked over at Snakebite once more before returning back to his peoples.

He had been laying the pipe to Kyann for three months. She was definitely one of the premiere hood poster girls. She was sought after by mostly every hustler in the hood. She rarely chose, but they had been getting close. At least he thought so.

He didn’t really do the hood like that. He didn’t play corners; he didn’t hang in the clubs like that. It was rare when he stepped out. He had too much beef. He had put in twerk on a lot of people in the city so he had to party out of town. In town he moved like a wolf.

He had let Kyann trap him in her web. He had started off using her and her girls to transport. Then he had started stashing work at her house. Then he had started sleeping with her. Then he realized he couldn’t stop. It was then he started stashing money at her house. He had a hundred grand there now.

He was waiting for the summer to finally ask her to move out to the house he kept hidden in the country. He was really ready to start settling down. He had done so much in the streets at such a young age he felt old. He had come up quick running with some of the most notorious gangsters in the city.

By age fifteen he had been cleared in three murders, and was suspected in several more. He started organizing drug spots for the O.G.’s in the hood. As a young enforcer. As the feds began to knock off the guys he looked up to and sentenced them to lifetimes. He realized he had all this real estate. He continued to organize and he started making a lot of money real fast.

The last two O.G.’s left Scar and Smitty. Got a little kick back from the moves he made in the hood and everything flowed like clockwork most times.

Snakebite was the younger brother of a rival O.G. from the south end of the city named B. Fischer. They came up in the same generation. But the north and south end beef kept their circles from connecting. But Snakebite knew him just like he knew him. The north and south end drama lead back to their grandfathers. North end dudes didn’t like South end dudes; that was just how it was.

Kyann was born and raised in the south end but females were a little different. Of course you might get shade from females if you bring a south end chick around and you were from the north end. Unless she was family; and vice versa. But dudes didn’t care. Females were fair game. But chicks would play for their team too. A lot of dudes got set up by chicks.

Pawn felt he was above all the north end south end beef. That was for the shorty’s. He even encouraged the young brothers in his crew not to fuel beef with the young dudes from the south end. But his words mostly fell on deaf ears. He could understand though. How could he tell them not to be at war when he was no longer on the front-line? So he supplied them with guns and told them to protect their hood from outsiders. There were times when two people from the north and the south could sit down and stop certain situations, but mostly the attitudes were fueled toward violence and get back.

Pawn didn’t care though. He moved how he wanted to move in the city. If he was rolling in the south end he stayed strapped up. Sometimes he rode around with one of the young boys from his hood that he knew had some sense and enough ambition to squeeze.

He never wanted the reckless guys around him, the ones that would just dumb out and shoot up a space. He had been that type of animal and so were the older wolves that had raised him in the pack. But most of them had fallen victim to the hunter’s gun. He was a different type of animal. Watching his former advisors fall had taught him one thing; he had to be the best knower for himself.

He made it back to where his homies were standing. He knew he had been slipping lately. He wasn’t even supposed to be out in the club. Not here. He had done the type of dirt that turned to mud and always followed you. He had been spending a lot of time on the south end lately too since hooking up with Kyann. He had noticed the looks and the sneers when he rolled through in his Bentley GT. He would leave his Benz parked in the driveway of her townhouse. Knowing it would infuriate the dudes in the south end. Knowing he was bedding their top fox.

He didn’t feel comfortable as he thought about all the things he had been doing lately. The hip hop music blaring seemed to rattle his thoughts. He was ready to get out of the club. But he was happy he had stepped out tonight. God never put anything before you that you weren’t supposed to see.

He had seen how Snakebite and Kyann had been almost cuddling when he first entered. It was probably Snakebite who had seen him and pulled her coat. But he had seen enough to make his heart’s eye wink.

Yo I’m bout to get up out of here. This shit ain’t me. Same bitches, same music, same niggas. We gotta shoot back down to Miami soon. We did this town already.

We did Miami too nigga. Nigga think he slick. Nigga dun hollered at Kyann now all a sudden this ain’t you. Big Moe said cracking up.

Nigga ain’t nobody worried bout Kyann. I do that when I want. This shit is wack in here. You can’t point to one bitch we don’t know in here unless it’s somebodies fast ass lil sister.

I hear you big homie, but I’m tryin’ to find me a wife for one night only. Like one of them drunk Vegas weddings. Kevin Sails said.

He looked at Kevin. That was his number one money getter and shooter. He had took him under the wing and really showed him the game. He took him off the corners early. He had told him, ‘you can’t play corners. Everybody knows your first and last name.’

It was true everybody addressed Kevin by his first and last name, when they spoke to him or; about him to others. It was one of those bad habits of others’, which sticks with you from childhood. He would warn Kevin all the time about bringing these chicks from the hood to his house. He told him everything wasn’t for everybody to see.

Kevin Sails. Don’t take any of these broads to the spot man. Get a room. Pay for convenience. You’ll come out cheaper. What up Ty you still need that? If so you better follow me I’m bout to pull up.

Ty began to give dap to the other men standing around. He was definitely going to follow Pawn up out of there he needed to get his hands on a square. He had his peoples coming in tomorrow afternoon from out of town and they were picking up a half of block. He really only came out tonight to meet up with Pawn. He could have gone shopping somewhere else. But nobody had it like Pawn. Nobody he was going to deal with anyway. He refused to spend a dime with those dudes in the south end. No matter how good they had it. He would wait until he could get in touch with Pawn.

After Pawn dapped everybody from his crew up, he headed for the door. He hadn’t seen Snakebite and a few of his peoples slide outside ahead of him. Soon as he stepped out into the warm morning air he came face to face with Snakebite and three of his goons. He just looked and started walking.

He watched a tall dark skinned dude with wild dredlocks walked around in a circle; announcing he didn’t care how it went down. Pawn slowed to a stop looked at Snakebite and his crew, and then kept on his way to the parking lot. He got in his Azzure and put his gun in his lap. He waited until Ty had started the engine on his 740I before turning the foreign engine over.

Pawn came out of his day dream when he felt the buses gears change to climb a steep narrow hill. It had started snowing and he heard one of the armed officers warning the driver to be careful of black ice. Pawn looked at the tree lines on either side of him as the bus climbed the hill. He was sure if the bus fell off the side of the road it would tear through the tree line down into the gully below probably killing everyone inside. What a tragic way for his life to end. He looked out the window again and caught sight of a deer standing in the trees. Free to go home when it was done roaming.

Chapter 2

First Day Home

Peanut had finally made it out of the reception area and into a cell. The cellblock had five tiers in each building, and the buildings were labeled by first alphabet A-I. Each tier had thirty cells. The first twenty cells on each tier were made for double convict housing. There were two beds, two desk, two shelves, two storage dressers, two appliance tables; and one toilet, and a sink. The entire cell was about one hundred and sixty square feet.

The last ten cells were generally the same size but seemingly offered more room due to only having one bed, desk, shelf, storage dresser, and appliance table. These cells were reserved for convicts on the tier with seniority or housemen.

Housemen were the ones that were responsible for keeping the tier orderly and passing out the supplies to the other convicts. Items such as tooth brushes, tooth paste, toiletries, and other such items the state provided. They also collected and passed out the bedding for laundry.

The housemen were paid between fifteen and twenty dollars a week. There was a time when the state wouldn’t pay convicts for their jobs. So the convicts got together and had a sit out, refusing to work in any of the industries or services. Once about half the prisons in the state began to do the same, the big wigs were ready to negotiate. They couldn’t afford to let the sit out go on any longer. They were losing hundreds of thousands of dollars a day, sometimes millions.

If you have a contract with a corporation promising a certain amount of production of a product and your production line shuts down. Corporations walk and take their money elsewhere.

Prison was big business and once the convicts figured it out they started bargaining for their stake from their labor. At the end of the day it all made sense. They were paying the convicts pennies on the dollars they were making anyway. They’d kick back a little money to the convicts and their production would run smoothly. The state still made out over all. When the convicts spent their money back in the commissary.

Securing private contracts with corporations to distribute their products through the commissary; and the phones were a whole other cash cow in itself. They ironed out a deal with the convicts that guaranteed each convict would be paid a wage upon entering a state facility. Convicts would even be paid an idle wage of .42 cents per day while waiting to be assigned a job. They got the state board to go along with their recommendations. By arguing the payment of a wage to each inmate would more than likely cut down extortion and violence, by the inmates who weren’t receiving any outside support. They also showed them how they could add each convict as a citizen of those small counties then prisons set in to get more federal and state funding for those areas.

Peanut knew nothing about the structuring of this concrete fortress they had sent him to. He had heard stories but he had never experienced anything like it firsthand. Before he had been sentenced to his bid he had never even stayed in county longer than it took them to process him and set bail. For the last eleven months he had heard stories in the county about the big house. He didn’t pay too much attention to those stories, because he never thought he would be sitting here.

He never thought Keisha and his homie Lance would come to court and take the stand on him. What really hurt him more than anything is he heard some of his people were out there still showing them love in the hood. By now he was expecting to hear somebody had went to Keisha’s house and blasted her mother through the door, or snatched her little brother up on the way home from school. The things he would have done for his homies had the situation been reversed.

He looked around the cell he wondered who his celly was. Mostly everyone was out in the yard or at some type of program or work. It was just him and about four others on the tier. He walked over to the desk and looked at the picture leaning against an empty milk carton. He knew the girl in the picture. Her name was Peaches he had popped her ass a few times. She was the average club magnet. He didn’t know the dark skin dude in the picture with her. He wondered if that was his celly.

They told him he would be doing orientation all week. He wasn’t enthused about that at all. He was itching to get out to the yard and see who was here. He knew that’s where everything took place at. He needed to see how many enemies he had on the compound. He needed to get his hands on a banger for sure. His homie Scooch said his father was on the compound somewhere. He was supposed to be some O.G. in here. But there was no telling when they would get to see him. The weekend was a long way off and beef could pop off at any time. He wished Pawn hadn’t gone back down to court.

He stepped out on the tier and walked down the galley. The two old men sitting at one of the metal tables looked up from their chess game as he passed by. He headed to the back of the tier looking in each cell as he went. Even though he had heard stories about looking in other peoples cells when he was in county. At the back of the tier was a caged in vestibule.

The vestibule area housed the six showers and there was a huge sink that most the convicts used to wash their laundry by hand; that and getting water to heat up for the meals they cooked in their cells. He saw a mop handle hanging across the top of the bars in a diagonal position. He jumped up and tested his weight on the mop handle before knocking out ten quick pull ups.  He made his way back down the tier and checked one of the six collect phones hanging on the wall. He picked up one of the receivers and noticed the phones still hadn’t been turned on yet. The officer who had brought him to the cell block told him