All the Bad Men

By Malachi Gibson

This story expresses how our society wears many masks of friendly makeup, but we feel the effects of its dark side.

In the midst of good but false intentions breed the core of bad men. They have replaced their humanity with greed and an immoral mentality that feeds on a false sense of power and no respect for humanity.

Even so, the light of justice and compassion can penetrate the darkness and transform the most worthy of the corrupted men into redeemed souls of truth and justice.

Because just as the darkness of destruction exists, so do heavenly miracles.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 12, 2016
• ISBN: 9781514449226

Malachi Gibson

He is a person that attacks every situation with tenacity. He believes that setbacks should not be an excuse to accept failure.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

H EY, AD, A tall, very lean guy said to the man that he saw standing and reading a newsp aper.

What’s up, JD? he answered in a very low, serious tone. I was just reading this article in Boyd High School’s newspaper. It’s written by a kid named LaQuan Robertson.

AD was the king of the drug dealers in the city of Pleasantville.

The article:

I’m a teenager who is fed up with the drugs and the dealers in our neighborhoods. You can’t walk by a single corner without being confronted by someone selling drugs.

The fight for control of certain areas has led to an increase in gang shootings. Quite often, it’s an innocent bystander that dies, teens, small children, and even elderly people. I suspect that there are forces much more powerful than the local dealers controlling the influx of guns and drugs to the streets of Pleasantville.

I will keep seeking information and writing it to expose everyone involved.

La Quan Robertson

I would hate to see anything happen to that kid, AD said. He’s a great football player, almost as good as I was. If he keeps writing stuff like this, his playing days may be over soon. He walked over and leaned against a parked car.

Suddenly, his attention was turned to something else. AD, that car is back, JD said, pointing to a black four-door sedan parked across the street.

Yeah, AD said. It was there two days ago. I see the small insignia on the lower part of the rear panel. It was a skull in a circle of fire. It’s the South Side crew.

I don’t think they’re here to talk or invite us to a party, JD replied. Those suckers are waiting to catch us off guard and take us out. He made the shape of a gun with his hand.

Go get Sue, AD said. Put her in the van and bring it here. Sue was a small military-like weapon that fired very powerful two-inch TNT shells.

Ten minutes later, JD returned and parked the van behind the two houses near the corner that they occupied.

Turn it around and back in between the two houses, AD said, walking toward the rear of the van. As the van came to a stop, he climbed in. Okay, hand me Sue, JD, and open the back doors. Those suckers will never know what hit them.

Hey, Stubby, AD called softly to one of the other members of his crew. Stubby was short and overweight.

Yeah, what you want me to do? he answered softly.

I want you to walk down to the other opposite corner and stand where you can see the van and wave to me if you see anyone walking in this direction.

Okay, I’m on it, Stubby said, rumbling off. He got to the corner, looked around, and saw no one, so he just stood there.

Load me up, JD, AD said in a cool, demanding voice.

All set, JD said as he pushed the shell in, and then he lay flat on the floor of the van.

Good-bye, suckers, AD said as he pulled the trigger. The shell fired with a swooshing sound and struck the car in a matter of seconds. Boooooom! The car exploded, and pieces flew everywhere, as far as two blocks away.

All right, get this van out of here, AD said, turning to JD. And drive slow so you won’t call attention to the van. He walked behind the van to his car on the next block.

Police cars and fire truck sirens screamed on their way to the scene.

What the heck happened here? Fire Chief Barton said to Police Chief Burns.

Looks like a bomb exploded here, Chief Burns answered.

Hey, you guys get busy here, the chief called out to the forensic teams.

Hours passed as the police and firemen continued searching for answers. AD returned to the scene.

Wow! What a mess, he said to a man in the crowd of onlookers. I was home watching TV when the newsflash came on.

Yeah, the man said. They still haven’t figured out what happened.

I wonder who was in the car, AD replied.

Well, so far, they’ve found a couple of baseball caps and part of a leg, the man said, not knowing who he was talking to.

An hour later, AD arrived at home, where his wife and two little boys were, in rural Pleasantville.

Anthony, you’re here. I was so worried when I saw the news about that car bombing, his wife, LaRue, said, hugging and smothering him with kisses.

I’m fine, babe, he said. I was nowhere near that area today. I did stop by on the way home to get a close-up look. But I’m here now, and I’m fine.

Daddy! his four- and six-year-old sons yelled, running to him. He lifted them up and kissed them on the cheek.

Jamal, Tony, how are my boys?

Fine, Daddy, they answered.

Are you ready to eat, honey? LaRue asked.

I’ll run upstairs and take a shower, while you get the food ready. I’ll have you for dessert, he said, smiling and winking. He laughed, running up the stairs.

The warm October night became a warm sunny morning.

Are you going to be home early today, honey? LaRue asked as Tony entered the kitchen.

Probably around six o’clock. You planning to hook me up like you did last night? He walked over to her, pulling her forcefully to him, leaning forward to kiss her. She tilted her head to receive the kiss, raising her five-feet-five-inch frame on tiptoes to reach his six-feet-two-inch height.

Okay, babe, I’ll see you later. Bye, boys.

Bye, Daddy, the boys answered, watching him put on his brown-tinted sunglasses and stroll slowly out of the door.

I’ll make my change and see what’s happening on the scene, AD said to himself as he walked to his beautiful brand-new burgundy Mercedes.

He pulled up to the garage where he housed his car and changed from his navy-blue doubled-breasted suit into a light-blue sweat suit and sneakers. He drove off in an old Chevy that he kept in the garage for work.

An hour later, he was at the scene that he created.

Hey, JD, what’s the word?

What’s up, AD. Well, they’ve found a couple more pieces of body parts and the license plate. That’s it.

Okay, when the cops get out of here, I want you and the guys to check the block and anybody whose car or house was damaged, reimburse them.

Sure thing, AD. The crew was here to pick their packages. I told them to wait at the wooded area on Bay Street.

You know, JD, you surprise me sometimes. Now that was good thinking. Let’s go. They walked to AD’s old Chevy and drove away to begin their daily business.

CHAPTER TWO

T WO WEEKS LATER on the corner of Front Street and Ball Street, where the crew gathered every morning to begin doing business. All right, you guys, AD said, walking back and forth. Everything has quieted down since that accidental car explosion. So we can get back in full swing. Pointing his finger at the crew chiefs, he continued, Get your crews out and back to busi ness.

AD’s cell phone rang. Hello, talk to me, he said with a very firm voice.

It’s your contact, the person answered. You know a guy named Felix Rondell?

Yeah, what about him? he replied as he walked over to one of the nearby houses and sat on the stoop. Well, he was over at the station house this morning, forming an alliance with a couple of officers.

Yeah, and? AD stood up and removed his sunglasses as he always did, exposing the anger in his dark-brown eyes. Meanwhile, JD and the others had left the area.

The plan is to infiltrate your group and set you up.

Okay, thanks, I’ll take care of it right away. Placing his glasses back on his face, he quickly dialed a number.

Hello, what’s up? the person said.

JD, you and a couple of the guys find Felix Rondell and take him down near the South Side under the trestle. Call me when you get there.

Sure, AD, what’s the deal with Felix?

Just do what I said. AD ended the call and jammed the phone in his pants pocket. He slapped his fist into the other hand. Dirty, stinking rat, he mumbled to himself.

Three hours later, AD’s phone rang. Hello, tell me something good.

It’s JD, we’re waiting for you.

I’ll be right there. AD began walking quickly to his car.

A half hour later, he parked his car a block away and walked to the trestle.

Well, Felix, AD said with a menacing grin. How are you doing, or should I say, what’ve you been doing?

What do you mean, AD? Felix said, hunching his shoulders nervously.

I received some news that you made a deal with some cops to rat us out. He slowly took off his glasses and stared into Felix’s eyes.

I… I… don’t know what you mean, AD, he answered, looking around at the other crew members.

Tie him up, cover his eyes, and stuff something in his mouth, AD said with a cruel and uncaring voice.

No, AD, please, I didn’t do anything. Please, man.

Felix was subdued, gagged, and thrown to the ground. AD pulled out an old .38 revolver and inserted one bullet.

Now, Felix, listen to this sound, I’m sure you know what it is.

He placed the gun barrel against Felix’s head and pulled the trigger.

Hm, hm, Felix mumbled through the gag in his mouth.

You were lucky that time, Felix. AD said, pulling the trigger again.

Hm, hm, hm, Felix mumbled and tried to roll away.

Hold him still, AD snapped at his crew, pulling the trigger again.

Felix began trembling, tears rolled down his face from under his blindfold, and urine ran down his legs.

Are you going to tell me the truth now, Felix?

Hm, hm, Felix mumbled while nodding his head frantically.

Stand him up and take the gag from his mouth, AD said.

Oh, oh. Felix gasped for air. Okay, okay, they asked me if I would rat you out. I just told them I would so they’d let me go.

Do you expect me to believe that I should trust your word now?

I swear, AD, I swear. I would never rat you out.

AD put five more bullets in the gun and put it sideways against Felix’s head.

A rat is the worst thing a guy can be, Felix. I really hate them.

O Lord, please, AD. Felix sobbed loudly. Please, please, he continued as he fell to his knees.

Bang! The gun sounded.

O God! Felix yelled as he fainted.

Untie him, AD said. Stubby, you stay here and follow him when he comes to.

I will, AD. I’ll let you know what he does.

All right, the rest of you go and make the money pickups from your crews.

Two hours later, AD’s phone rang.

Hello, how can I help?

This is Stubby. Man, Felix is crazy. His mind is gone. When he woke up, he just kept saying ‘O God.’ He wandered into the street. Somebody called an ambulance, and they took him away.

All right, Stubby, I’ll take it from here.

Five minutes later, AD made another call.

Hello, my friend, the person said.

Yeah, I need you to find out where they took Felix. An ambulance took him away a few minutes ago near the South Side.

Okay, I’ll get back to you shortly.

A half hour later, AD’s phone rang.

Hello, my friend, the person said. We found Mr. Felix. He’ll be in a mental institution for a very long time. You are truly the angel of death. (AD)

CHAPTER THREE

T HE END OF October was near. After AD got his business in full swing for the day, he read another article in the Boyd High School newspaper written by LaQuan Rober tson.

In September, a young man, Hakim Saunders, was stopped and beaten unconscious by two police officers. He later died from that deadly assault.

They said that they stopped the late model Cadillac because the young black male was driving recklessly. They claimed that he had been drinking, and drugs were found in his car. When they attempted to arrest him, he resisted and started kicking and punching the officers. They had to use extreme force to subdue him.

Now four weeks later, the officers have been cleared of any wrongdoing after investigations by the police department and the district attorney’s office. No one could understand those conclusions after the witnesses on the scene testified that they did not see any resistance by the teen that caused the officers to beat him to death.

Hakim was in his freshman year in college, where he planned to continue his basketball career that began at Boyd High School, where he and I were teammates. Everyone that knew him testified that he never drank alcohol and despised drugs just as I do.

There’s much that need to be done in Pleasantville to ensure the safety of the people.

By LaQuan Robertson

This stupid kid is begging to be taken out, AD mumbled, removing his sunglasses and shaking his head in anger.

His thoughts were interrupted when a female voice called out, Hi, AD.

Turning to face her, he said, What do you want, Sasha?

Is that any way to greet a friend? she replied. She stood about five feet six inches and a very different picture of the beautiful high school cheerleader she once was. Drugs and alcohol and a failed marriage changed her life immensely.

We’re not friends, Sasha, AD snapped. Now what do you want?

We were friends until you met little Ms. LaRue, she snapped back, and pushed me to the side like an old pair of shoes. Anyway, what I want is to borrow a hundred dollars.

You want me to lend you money to go buy stuff from someone else.

I need the money to buy some new clothes. I’m starting a new job on Monday.

A hundred dollars to buy clothes for a new job. Ha, ha.

Yes, for clothes. You know I get my stuff from your crew only.

Okay, when do I get my money back plus twenty-five interest?

Payday will be next Friday. I’ll be working as a temp, so I’ll get my money right away.