When they come

4ink walked down the street. He grinned, his teeth showcasing decked grills causing a group of young girls walking by to giggle among themselves as they observed him.

He strolled through the street like a king, his shoulders squared, chest puffing out of his brown flannel shirts which was pulled up by the sleeves to give people ample view of his tattoos.The streets was his and no one could lift a candle to that. Not just because he was the right hand man to San, but also because his street credibility were off the charts.

At one corner of the street, men congregated around like hyenas to a carcass. The formed a circle and their eyes were on a loud, thickset man. The man's voice was firm and high-pitched. Shouting his opinion and forcing the men's attention on him. He did this by also gesturing widely, his meaty hands moving in sync with his mouth, his body movement seeming intricated to what he was saying. The men quickly, though unconsciously, let him take the floor.

4ink drew nearer. He had no interest in their little gathering or what they had to offer but he strolled nonetheless towards them. He drew nearer to the men and settled among them.

"Just yesterday, another man died," the short man was saying. His lower lips which was bigger than usual was lined with sweat. "A young man died on our very streets yesterday and no one is doing, or talking anything about it."

Murmuring swept through the crowd with words like: there nothing we can do, being occasionally thrown out.

"What am saying is that, it is enough!" Dee announced, shouting above the murmurs.

They quit their murmurs as they listened to Dee.

"Because it is. I've had enough and if you haven't, then you are blind or you are not even alive. Just walking dead. If we don't do anything, we all will be walking dead! And remember, this has not been the first or the last. We should cast our minds back on the incident that occured here two weeks ago."

"Which incident?" a voice from among the crowd asked.

Dee turned around. His fat face appraising the crowd with a pointed look. "You mean you have forgotten so soon?"

Few from among the crowd nodded.

Dee shook his face, his cheeks wobbling in disappointment. "Hell. From my house, I could hear it all," he said, his voice sorrowful, still holding captive the attention of the entire men. "We can't say we were sleeping that night. That man all beat-up and bloodied and dead. Two weeks ago. I'm aware it had occurred in the middle of the night, but hell I was curious. We all were!"

"The gang beat-up you mean?" someone asked.

A tall dark man hushed his neighbor.

"Why should he be quiet?" Dee snapped immediately at the dark man. "All we have been talking is about them. It is those wretched waywards who prey on our young men. On our peace. They are taking everything from us. Whatmore"

The dark man face tightened. His hand reached out to nudge that of Dee's in an effort to prevent him from saying more than he can chew, but it slipped through due to the amount of sweat, the fat man easily parrying away the intruder.

He took center stage again. "I mean if not because of Sarah– a generous soul, that man would've died. He might already be dead."

"You mean yesterday's?" an average Joe asked

"No!"

"So who do you mean?"

"I mean the man from last two weeks!"

"Sarah helped the man from yesterday and last two weeks. Woah."

"No..."

The average Joe looked around confused. "Sarah helped them both and they are both dead?"

Dee grunted in irritation. "If you would just let me talk. It was the man from two weeks Sarah helped. And," he pointed a finger squarely to the men around him, "its all because of one man. We all know but shield away, but I am not longer afraid to say it. It's all because of San! Yes!"

A cold silence fell upon the crowd. The looked at each other and into the open space in hush hush fear.

"The man is dead or isn't?"

Dee turned, irritated at the continuous interruption. As he did, so did the drawing eyes of the rest of the men.

4ink basked in the attention bestowed upon him as he watched their confused eyes slowly turn into knowing then terrorized. He had been eager to know what had happened to Cobly that it didn't occur to him that he was the only young person among them nor did it occurr to him to choose his moment carefully.

He smiled to ease back but they were already shuffling away and soon, he stood alone like a fish on land. Dee was already bounding directly towards him and 4ink remained motionless, waiting for the angry pound of flesh to reach him.

"I know you."

4ink grinned, his grills reflecting Dee's loathing red face. "Do you?"

"You are San's," Dee said, pointing an accusing finger. He squeezed his face in hatred and smiled. He turned back for some backup but his crew were staring at the exchange speechless, horrified and backing away. He looked at them suprised.

"What the hell are you guys doing? Rob! Griffin? Cole...Where are you going going?"

"We don't want trouble Dee," the tall dark man replied.

"Yes Dee," Griffin said apologetically. "We have wives and children."

Dee snorted. "To hell with that. Those children will be corpses soon if we don't do nothing...take the bull by the horns!"

"If we focused on them they won't," Griffin replied, intent on getting home fast.

"Not all will end up like yours," Rob snared.

Dee's large chest expanded. Red colouring his bloated cheeks. Cowards, he thought as they drifted with bowed head towards their homes. All of them. To hell with them.

"So what were you saying?" 4ink demanded.

Dee visibly shuddered. In his disgust, he had almost forgotten the cause of their cowardice. He turned, trying hard to square up. His gaze focused on the grills as he saw his bald head red, and covered in thick sweat. He squeezed his eyes shut and swung.

In the matters of eyes shut, Dee did see Sarah screaming her head off as she ran towards the man laid on the street. It was useless, he'd thought and he knew most of his neighbors with their curtains drawn slightly several hours ago, thought so too. The man held out for long, but how much could he face. Certainly not the plank which crashed against his back head. That was end game; the cracking of skull vibrated through the street. Only the strongest of wills could survive such.

He watched her as she struggled with the weight of the man and his heart was filled with pity towards her. She literally dragged him through the ground as she went. He sighed. Another day, another one. As the curtains to opposite houses began closing and lights began flickering on, he did the same.

Dee with heavy snort bubbling and falling out of his nose and tears streaming down his face, recounted the story of that night to 4ink.

When he was done, 4ink stood, grinning. "That was not so hard, was it?"

Dee shook his head feverishly. "No it was not."

4ink produced a handkerchief from his pockets, wiped his hands meticulously and when he was done, he threw it at the shriveling man's face and for good measure, gave it another kick.

Dee cried out. Chest heaving up and down, he begged for his life. "Please... please," was on his mouth on repeat.

Bending, 4ink held Dee's collar which was soaked in sweat and the poor man eyes couldn't get any more bigger.

"Now," 4ink said as he grinned stupid, "Point me towards this pretty lady."