PROLOGUE

WASHINGTON, DC

 

The moon was in rare form as it hovered above the filthy, grungy water that made up the Potomac River, causing it to shine in a liquid blue hue. A little to the right, on a patchy land that Chocolate City called Hains Point, two people stood on their knees, their gaze toward the river.

Their fate unclear.

Standing above them, a gunman aimed the warm barrel of a .45 in their direction, which had already been fired once as a warning shot indicating that he alone was in charge.

After what seemed like an eternity, slowly a black Impala rolled up in the parking lot some ways over from the group, the brightness of the headlights made the gunman squint slightly to see who was arriving. Normally policemen circled the tourist trap but a bomb threat had been called in not even three miles ahead to a government building, which required all available officers on deck. Which the Gunman was well aware of because he made the call.

When the car parked, the lights went out, placing the scene as it was before its arrival.

Dark.

Scary.

Uncertain.

Slowly the Passenger and Driver eased out, carefully toward the trio.

Observant, the Driver glared at the Gunman, believing that if he tried hard enough he could knock him to the ground and end this madness once and for all.

“Don’t be stupid!” The Gunman suggested, aiming at The Visitors and then back at the people on their knees. “I’m feeling kinda nervous right now. Don’t make me kill everybody out this bitch before you have a chance to hear me out.”

The Driver’s hands went up into the air. “I’m unarmed.” He paused. “Please don’t do anything crazy.”

The Gunman aimed at The Passenger. “Me too.” The Passenger’s throat cleared. “Me…me too.”

The Gunman returned his weapon onto the men on their knees and laughed. “Let me ask yah something right quick.”

“I’m listening,” The Driver said.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a little liquor in the ride would you?” He snickered awkwardly. “Seeing as how at least one of you niggas gonna die today.” He laughed hysterically. “We might as well drink to pouring blood.”