The Deadline. KiKi Swinson

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СКАЧАТЬ throat and hoisted him off his feet like he was a toy. Both men laughed, making the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Kyle’s little legs had pumped feverishly, like he was pedaling a bike or running an invisible race. His arms had swung like the blades of a windmill too.

      The man holding Kyle by the neck had begun to squeeze harder and harder, choking off Kyle’s oxygen, until his little legs finally slowed to a halt and his arms dropped at his sides. The color had faded from his face and his eyes rolled up until all I could see were the whites. Fear had put a stronghold on me, and my stomach muscles had clenched so hard I wanted to faint, but I scrambled to my feet instead, and ran into the man holding my brother.

      “Let him go!” I had hollered, and bulldozed into the man’s legs. I opened my mouth as wide as I could and chomped down on his inner thigh, the only thing I had been tall enough to reach back then. I was like an attack dog. I sank my teeth into the man’s leg and used every bit of strength in my little jaws to latch on like a steel-jaw trap.

      “Agh!” the killer screamed. “You little bitch! Get off of me!”

      With that, the one-eyed man had no choice but to let go of Kyle’s limp body and they both dropped to the floor. I finally released my jaw and freed him. I watched in horror as Kyle jackknifed onto his side, wheezing and coughing until the color started returning to his face. But because of the bite, the other man turned his attention to me. Suddenly I felt the cold kiss of a pistol against my temple.

      “Shoot the little bitch!” the one-eyed man had growled, still writhing on the floor. I closed my eyes, and my bladder released all over my feet as I sobbed.

      My mother bursting in with the cops was what had saved our lives.

      After my father’s murder, we moved a lot. My mother couldn’t cope and she started using drugs heavy. She could no longer care for me and Kyle in the way she had before my father’s death. The state stepped in and took us. That forced my mother to finally go to rehab.

      Unfortunately, there would be several stints of drug rehab before she stopped relapsing, and while she struggled, Kyle and I lived in many different foster homes. If that shit did nothing else, it had toughened me up. Tragedy has a way of making clear what you want for your life. I knew then that being poor and dealing with the dangers of living in the hood wasn’t the life for me, so I fought to stay a straight-A student all through my schooling.

      * * *

      I completed graduate school and earned my master’s degree in journalism. I wasn’t going to just stop there. I had big dreams of being an on-air news anchor, so I’d taken this job as a news research aide here at ABB affiliate WXOT-TV in Norfolk, Virginia.

      I was working my ass off too. Unlike all of the other little flunkies around here, I was one of the only ones bringing in interesting stories. I had done all sorts of shit to get good stories. One time I took a job as a bartender in a strip club to blow the lid off a story about someone who was setting up and robbing strippers. I was there the night the damn robbers decided they were going to step up their game and not just rob the strippers when they left at night, but the whole damn club. Just my luck. I had been behind the bar with my back turned when I heard the first scream a short distance from where the bar was located. The noise had caused me to almost drop the bottle I was holding, and before I could turn around, another echo of screams reverberated through my ears.

      Silver, one of the newest strippers at the club, belted out another guttural scream that threatened to burst my eardrums. She had been the first one to notice the dudes filing in with their guns out in front of them like they needed them for direction. I had whirled around on the balls of my feet just in time to come face-to-face with the barrel of a black pistol.

      “Where’s the fucking money, bitch? And don’t try nothing funny,” one of the masked men had snarled. All I could see was the fire flashing in his eyes. I had actually seen the pupils of his eyes and they were devil red. I knew then that nothing but sheer evil resided in that man. Silver would not stop screaming.

      “Shut her the fuck up or I’ma blast both of y’all bitches!” the masked man growled at me. I turned on her so damn quick.

      “Shh,” I warned her harshly. “Be quiet or we are dead.”

      Silver quickly clamped her left hand over her mouth to stifle her own screams. I could see that her body was trembling like a leaf in a wild storm.

      My head was swimming with fear. I didn’t think going undercover for a story would have ended up like this. It made me ask myself, how far was I willing to sell my soul for the perfect story?

      “Y’all bitches better get down right now before I lay y’all down. This ain’t no bullshit!” the masked gun-waving robber had barked. It was traumatic, to say the least. To have his gun leveled at my face had put me back to my childhood, for sure. I couldn’t help but think that there must’ve been a reason God kept putting me in these situations.

      “Please, please, I . . . I . . . can’t die . . . please,” Silver had started begging.

      “Just do what he says and be quiet,” I instructed Silver. Just then, two more strippers, Blaze and Billie, were herded out of the dressing room in the back into the main club area where we were. The other robbers put them down on the floor facedown. Both were begging and pleading for their lives too. They were crying, but I just couldn’t bring myself to cry. Maybe I was numb. Maybe I was ready to die. When the robber holding Silver and me had turned, it gave me a few seconds to sneak my cell phone and hit the record button. I hadn’t done all of this not to get the story. If I was going to die, at least there would be something left behind.

      “Bitch, I said where is the money?” the robber boomed after only getting about six hundred dollars from behind the bar. I had almost jumped out of my skin thinking he had seen me sneak the phone. My hands were shaking. I swallowed hard as my eyes darted around wildly. There were three more gunmen in my immediate sights. All sorts of things had run through my head, but my thoughts were quickly interrupted when I noticed another gunman dragging the club owner, Sly, into the main club area too. Sly was bleeding from his head. I knew then he had been hit with a gun.

      “Please don’t kill me,” Sly begged. He was begging and crying harder than some of the women in the club. The Big Bad Wolf that he had pretended to be had surely changed into a blubbering bitch in that instant.

      With sweat beads dancing down the sides of my face, I moved forward apprehensively to the register to see if there was any more money inside to offer the gun-wielding thieves.

      “There’s not a lot of money in the register,” I said, raising my hands in surrender to let the masked gunmen know I wasn’t going to resist. “But in the back . . . there’s a safe. Sly can get you inside. He’s the only one who knows how, so if you hurt him . . . you’ll end up with nothing.” I locked eyes with Sly. He looked relieved, upset, hurt, all in one glance. I didn’t care. I wanted to get out of there alive, especially because my ass shouldn’t have been there in the first place. All for a story. All for a story, I kept chanting in my head.

      “I want every dime! Every dollar, you fucking bitch!” the second assailant growled through the black material of his mask, while two more had yanked Sly up from the floor and started dragging him to the back.

      “If this nigga try anything funny, y’all are going to find his brains all over that office,” the masked man had said. His words had taken me back to seeing my father shot dead, and a shot of heat spread throughout my body. For the first time since they had busted into the club, I had felt sheer and pure fear grip me tightly around the throat. It had been СКАЧАТЬ