Fearless Excerpt Post

Have to drive. Have to get out of this town. Starting to feel like walls are squeezing me, suffocating me. On one of these beaten paths off of the Haunted Highway (49) there’s a cemetery outside of a church that always has a street light on. Perfectly, illuminating the creek’s water down the hill. Creek waters that they use for baptism. Water is a conduit to the supernatural. “I pray Loh’Rd, that as I wash my face and the paint that falls into the water that my evils of this day be washed away.” __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Johnny Walker Knight, has been on a mission to fight the crime as a vigilante. He thought he was doing a good job until he discovered there were some criminals he simply felt he could not fight. Deeply disturbed he seeks refuge at a church surrounded by a graveyard. This is an excerpt that can be purchased for $1-@ My profile page with all my books on Amazon or you can purchase the whole series over 300 pages for $5.00 includes unabridged, ruff drafting of TellMeVision _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ The War Drobe for this evening: after a quick work out I start with my face. Paint it white, black around my eyes. Paint fangs around my upper lip to my nose and down to my chin. I pin my hair back with a hair net that I’ve painted pale green. I place the hat at its angle to shadow my face. I wear an all black 70’s suit with bell bottomed sleeves and bell bottom pants. I got my flame device in both arms. Two hidden bombs that have thick layers of sand above the gasoline. This will have the affect of shields of dust to hide me. At 12 am I depart for Williams Street. The mission is surveillance. Yet, if an unforeseen situation will have me to battle I am prepared. I set up shop in an abandoned two story house. Their methods are to guide the addict (buyer or mark) through three different locations. The first is a gas station parking lot on MLK JR. BLVD. From there the addict picks up the dealer’s helper (hook up). The hook up takes the mark to a hole in the wall restaurant. On the outside it says something like “True Southern Bar’B’Cue” and has a pink pig picture. The restaurant is one of the check in points. The hook up gets a report of where the heat (police) are. This determines the hook ups next spot. This is also the spot where the mark is assessed for value. The hook up will usually ask the mark to buy him a drink, a meal, or both. “True Southern Bar’B’Cue” serves greasy fried cat fish and fries mostly. Its food is bought from the grocery store for very cheap and sold for much more than it is worth, the same is done for its sale of malt liquor, cheap liquor, beer, and off brand sodas. This is also the spot for prostitution. Your stereotypical ruff’ hood tank top wearing, pants worn half mass (waist line) in the middle of his ass) is the pimp. Got the early 20’s black chick wearing very provocative curvy wear that only the chick musicians wear. This is another way they’ll check the mark for how much dough he/she has. Next stop after zig zagging back streets is a house’s back yard where they give the mark the complimentary weed buzz. This is done to ensure the mark is not a police officer. Lot of times they’ll lace it with cocaine rock. Then they’ll drive some more zig zags given shout outs (saying hi) to their friends. Usually guns are shown during this step and a tuff’ guy act to see what the marks are made of. Most of the time, the mark is dangerously sketched out (scared). Now the decision is made of how much to take the mark for. In scarce circumstances the mark is attacked. The final step this evening is across the street. There’s been a group of high school kids going in and out. Damn’t “high school kids.” This is what I was fearful of. There’s no movie, or comic book nemesis here. Just kids I see everyday. They’re ruining their lives. Agh No. Morgan, the kid with his dead father’s face on his shirt (r.i.p.). he’s shaking his head. They are trying to talk him into something. Hope this isn’t one of the gang initiations where they have “the foot soldier” shoot someone. And here comes the mark. What’s it like to lose your soul? It’s stealing your mom’s car when she’s asleep. There’s a voice inside that’s telling you not to do it. But you choose to listen to listen to another voice telling you that your parents ruined your life cuzz’ they didn’t tell you they loved you or some shit like that. This mark is a common customer. It would be a liability to get rid of this soon to be $100. plus day investment. Pathetic white boy. I can tell by his pathetic posture and pathetic walk that his hootchie momma probably recently had babies.-left her cuzz’ he feared losing his freedom. That mark is the first of twenty marks in an hour. Of what it’s like…What’s it like to lose your soul? It’s the former CEO in those meetings no one wants to go to. He started drinking. Told himself, “If you lived my life you’d drink to.” Phase two of the path was the strip club and I’m the girl who understands for a $30. lap dance fee. Phase three, intimate moment on the white lines. Phase four, unemployed, giving blood at the blood center just to collect a $30. to buy a pebble (crack rock). Or the 70 pound woman begging for money at every parking lot in town. She also exchanges sexual favors. This is the Blues-takes people lives/ deaths and transforms em’ into song lyrics. Throw the smoke bomb. Attack them when they can’t see you. No mercy. And when the smoke clears I’ll show them my skull painted face. Leave the image of the skull lodged in their thoughts. Scare them into doing the right thing. “Scare them into doing the right thing?” No. I can’t make my move now. I’m too angry. Too angry. Too emotional. It’ll be sloppy. I can’t afford to be sloppy almost got killed last time. These behaviors they engage are just behaviors. These things that they do are not who they really are. Have to drive. Have to get out of this town. Starting to feel like walls are squeezing me, suffocating me. On one of these beaten paths off of the Haunted Highway (49) there’s a cemetery outside of a church that always has a street light on. Perfectly, illuminating the creek’s water down the hill. Creek waters that they use for baptism. Water is a conduit to the supernatural. “I pray Loh’Rd, that as I wash my face and the paint that falls into the water that my evils of this day be washed away.”