31

It was 6:15am on a breezy fall day when Crown finally awoke from his coma, almost four months after he’d been shot. The doctors rushed to aid him in his sudden recovery. They said it was a miracle that he was still alive. He suffered three gunshot wounds to his chest which missed his major arteries and almost crippled him. Crown could barely move, but he was conscious of what was going on around him. His breathing was sparse and his condition was still critical, but he was finally awake.

Weeks passed, and Crown’s condition continued to improve rapidly, which impressed the doctors. They did numerous tests on him. Being in a coma for four months didn’t make him forget about the betrayal that happened. He was aware that Chaos and YB had set him up. He often wondered what had happened to the rest of his chicks and his peoples. He wanted answers and he wanted them fast.

Harlem soon learned of Crown coming out of his coma and was back in Philly days later. He wore a white lab coat to conceal his gun, wire-rimmed glasses, and a false I.D. No one challenged him as he looked for Crown’s room. He found the room, walked in, and gently closed the door behind him. Crown was asleep. Harlem pulled the long, white curtain around his bed, giving them some privacy from the other patient in the room, who was also asleep. He stared down at Crown’s sleeping body.

Harlem cleared his throat. Crown shifted and then opened his eyes to see this tall, harrowing figure in a lab coat, looming over him.

When Crown saw that it was Harlem he became alert. He propped himself up against the headboard and said, “What took you so fuckin’ long to come?”

“I was out of town, just recently got the news,” Harlem replied.

“I’m in bad shape, my nigga. It’s gonna take me some time to recover from my injuries. But I didn’t forget,” Crown stated.

“Just give me names,” Harlem said in a low, eerie manner.

“My cousin’s dead, along wit’ Sweet. But that bitch Chaos set me up. They left me for dead, so I think it’s time we return the favor,” Crown said in a low whisper.

“Like I said, just give me names to go on,” Harlem repeated.

“Muthafucka, YB! I want you to put to death everything that muthafucka loves: his cousin, Magic, and if his mother is still alive, kill that bitch. And then I want you to find them for me, Harlem. I want them gutted like fish. I want them to suffer and burn for this shit.”

Harlem nodded.

“I want you to turn this city upside down with murder and terror. I want people to know I ain’t down and I ain’t over. And I want you to find my bitches and I’ll deal wit’ them when I deal wit’ them. But your first priority is puttin’ to death everything that nigga YB ever loved.” Crown stared intensely at his number-one killer.

“I got you, my nigga,” Harlem assured him. “When I find that nigga and that bitch, you’ll be the first to know.”

“They shoot me down and rob me? Oh, it’s comin’ back on them. I want them to suffer, muthafuckin’ suffer like it’s medieval times in this bitch.”

Harlem walked out of the room with his mind on his mission. Crown watched his killer leave and smirked. He had set the dogs loose on his attackers and knew that in due time, vengeance would be his.

****

Harlem’s body count was extreme. He had caught his first body when he was only fifteen, and afterward killing came easy to him. His first victim was Black, a man three years his senior. Black and Harlem never liked each other. He always teased Harlem and cracked jokes about him whenever they saw each other. He was a weed dealer around Harlem’s way and was trouble wherever he went. He had a loud mouth and thought he was untouchable until one day, he got touched.

Harlem’s reputation was growing and he was becoming a badass on the streets of Philly, coming up under the Rocquelle drug crew in the early nineties. Black figured out a way to get to Harlem and decided to start with his woman. Black tried to push up on Harlem’s girl, Tammy, in a club one night and she warned him to back off. Black felt disrespected by Tammy’s rejection and slapped her openly in front of dozens of people.

“Fuck that bitch-ass nigga Harlem. Skinny-ass, beanpole-lookin’ muthafucka!” Black shouted. “You need to get wit’ a real nigga like me, bitch, ya hear? What kind of name is Harlem, anyway? Muthafucka, this ain’t fuckin’ New York! Let me put that faggot nigga Harlem on my knee and spank him, like he my bitch.”

Tammy glared at Black with tears streaming down her face.

“Fuck you! You’re a dead man,” she spat.

“Bitch, you know who the fuck I am? Yeah, tell that bitch-ass nigga of yours that Black slapped the shit outta you and if he comes lookin’ for trouble, I’ll slap that bitch silly, too!”

Of course, word got around about the incident. Two weeks later, the hype of the incident died down. Everyone thought that Harlem just was going to let it be and figured he probably feared Black. But that wasn’t the case.

One night, Black was sitting in his ride on Lancaster Avenue, getting a blowjob from a hooker. He reclined in his seat, closed his eyes, and enjoyed the oral pleasure she was blessing him with.

Black didn’t even notice the tall figure in all black approach his car quietly. Harlem came from the back and was crouched down, focusing on Black in the driver seat. He watched the woman’s head bob up and down.

“Ummmm . . . shit, suck my dick, bitch,” Black moaned. His hand was on the back of her head, urging her on.

Harlem had the element of surprise and suddenly loomed over Black. The woman felt a shadow over her and gasped in shock when she opened her eyes and saw Harlem with the gun aimed at them.

“Why you stop?” Black complained. He opened his eyes and was stunned by the .45 aimed at his head.

“Suck on this, bitch!”

Black didn’t have time to react. Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Harlem shot him six times in the head, splattering his blood and brain matter all over the front seat, dashboard, and the female passenger. She shrieked loudly, covered in Black’s blood.

Harlem looked at her, thought about letting her go free, and said, “Fuck it!” He fired three rounds into her head, making it a double homicide before he ran off.