“They seemed okay,” Ray said. “You did good raising them.”

Maybe the road had made them both a little tougher than I’d imagined. Or maybe they were so filled with the love of the Lord that they could see good in even the worst of times.

I spoke my mind, “Well, I’m not okay. I don’t think I can go back to school. It’s not right there anymore. I don’t have a purpose there.”

“What was your purpose there before, Sweet Potato?” He was already pulling into the driveway.

“Making sure Maize knew I was fighting for something worth having. I’d always told him that education would get us out of our tramp life. We could upgrade with that piece of paper. Maize will never be back in a school, and I know that for sure. That seems enough for me to finish the race early.”

I threw my books into my room and quickly changed into my work clothes.

Ray followed me through the kitchen door and out into the dining room. I stopped, trying to let the place take me in again. To feel that sense of belonging, that comforting vibe. The rhythm was still the same, but my dancing had long dried up. I made rounds as he followed me, and no matter how I tried to shoo him away, he would not leave me alone.

“What?” I yelled, and the whole place got quiet. “You want me to tell you I’m gonna stay in school? You want me to tell you I have a future?”

I threw down the pad at his feet. “I ain’t got nothing to live for now except …”

The words you never left my mouth. Glass shattered, customers screamed, and surreal flashes of color flew before me, knocking me senseless. Ray fell backward, hitting a bar stool, reaching out to me as he scrambled across the floor on his belly. I felt my body being jerked unnaturally hard as hands gripped my sides and my hair. My head was wrenched back. Tears stung my eyes from the force of the tugging.

I knew something was happening, but I couldn’t conceive what it was. I knew I wasn’t inside the restaurant any longer, and I watched as my feet dangled over the busted doorframe, my leg catching on the glass. Blood began oozing down my calf. I should have screamed in pain, but I felt nothing.

He called out my name, and it rang in my ears in slow motion—a drawled-out name that lasted twenty syllables. Then rat-a-tat-at-a-tat. Shots fired? No. They were toward Soul Food. I couldn’t see anymore, because cloth was now covering my face. I welcomed the darkness.

I was pushed into a vehicle, and my body bumped into something hard and warm. They took hold of me, and I couldn’t find my voice to call out to them. Kill me, I wanted to tell them. Just get it over with. Don’t drag this out.

Nobody in the car answered my silent pleas, but they were reenacting every single move that they’d made. I heard the young voice of the driver. I would bet my life that I was in an Impala—and I wouldn’t even mind losing.

As soon as the vehicle stopped, I was pushed out forcefully, my knees cracking to the curb, and I could feel my feet moving sideways in the grate of a drain hole. Let me sink down under to the sewer system. My hands were scratched and bleeding. Burning sensations ran on my arms, and my leg was starting to throb. They dragged me by my hair like I was some kind of animal, my body flipping and turning. I didn’t try to fight or resist them. I knew there was no point.

“How many did you take?” A sneer came from the shadows.

“This one makes the fifth one,” a voice said. “I claim two. I got the most hits.”

Vomit rose in my throat, spilling out of the side of my mouth, staining the gag.

“I got this one for Tiny.”

He ripped away the gag, allowing me to gasp air and push my sickness out.

“My, my, my,” the voice said, as my vision began to clear. He tied my hands behind me. My shoulders strained, the muscles feeling they could snap any second.

I was in what looked like a metal box. The Devil was whispering to me I would die today in this shed. I told that voice to get behind me. If I died, the Lord would take my soul.

“Ain’t that the girl that come the other day looking for Shaq?” the driver questioned.

“Oh, that’s Shaq sista. You claimed the wrong girl. You were supposed to get that Denise girl. Joker’s sista. Joker’s the one that done in Tiny. She’s the target, and now you’ve marked this one. You know what that means. Once a mark, we got to finish it.”

“This isn’t Denise,” another one said, coming closer. “Yeah, that’s Shaq’s sister. Look at them eyes. But he can’t take back his rights to the girl. You know the game. He called her. It doesn’t matter if it was Shaq’s mother. He called her in tribute, and now she’ll have to answer to Charon.”

“But …”

Before the boy could finish his sentence, he was shoved violently out the swinging door.

The door slammed, and I heard a master lock click on the other side. My face hit the wooden-plank floor, and I closed my eyes to oblivion, drowning in the river Styx. The ferryman was coming to claim my soul.

Four dead, I heard them boast. Oh, Lordy. I would be the fifth. Five. What had I said last to Ray? I screamed at him—something I’d never done before. I lost it with him and told him that I had nothing to live for. Oh, Lordy. I prayed he knew what I was about to say to him. I was going to tell him I had nothing to live for except him. But I didn’t get to finish my words.

What had I told the kids last? I didn’t tell them I loved them when they were getting out of the car. I mocked the Lord. Oh, God. Even though Daddy didn’t ask for my forgiveness, I knew I’d have granted it to him eventually. But I was going to act it out for a while, stubborn as a mule, letting him sweat it. For what? When I knew that I would end up forgiving him in the end, why couldn’t I have just thrown my arms around him, like Bell? Why couldn’t I have told him I knew why he gave them away—because he knew what they needed more than even me? He could let them go because he loved them that much.

My mind went to that sinner on the cross. I was more of a sinner than him. I had faith right in the palm of my hand, and I let it slip through my fingers like a fine sand. Jesus promised that man He would see him in paradise. But I needed another chance at this life, so I could say all I ever needed to and more.

I prayed, “God, forgive me. Give me another day to make it right.”

Words spilled from me—from a well within me that spoke of all of my doubt, and fears, and unworthiness. I prayed for those people back at Soul Food. Ray. My second family. Oh, Lordy, let them all be safe. Let none of them be dead, let them not be claimed. Let that little boy have no blood on his hands. Let them …

The lock clicked, and Maize came busting in, the door slamming against the metal frame. “I told you! You don’t ever hear me!”

He kicked me as I lay there in tears. I felt the brunt of his shoe against my side, but I didn’t even flinch.

“Maize,” I cried out.

He fell to his knees in front of me and pushed the hair out of my face. My hands were bound and bleeding, and he pulled out a knife, clicked it open with ease, and cut through the rope.

“I’ve got to get you out of here. Why did they mark you?”

“They thought I was Denise. Ray’s cousin is in The Five.” When I said that name, he spit at my feet as if he’d had a long-running feud with them all his life. “They called out something about Tiny.”

Maize said, “Tiny was shot last night. We got to retaliate. It’s what we do.” He pulled me to my feet. “But not with my sister. I told you not to come here.”

“Can’t you stop them?” I whispered, watching him looking out through the door. I was sure there were more Reapers about.

“I haven’t completed my initiation yet. I have no voice.” He wiped sweat from his face—or was that tears? “You are marked and done for. I can’t believe I got you into this mess.”

“No, I can’t believe you got yo’self into this mess. I would’ve still been working in Soul Food today. It could have happened even if you weren’t in this gang. You being here is going to get us both out of this. Maybe that’s why God let you do this—to save us both.”

“I can’t be saved.” Maize silenced me with his hand across my lips. “I’m done, Sweet Potato. When I get you out of here, you run as far as you can. They’ll put a bounty on your head. You hear me? You got to take them kids and run.”

“What’s this?” I heard a call from the yard. “Shaq? What are you doing?”

“She’s my sister, man.” Maize squared his shoulders.

“Oh, that’s right. But what you think you are doing? Charon already called this dog to slaughter. What are you doing opening the door for?” He put his hand in his pocket, and I knew what was there, waiting for an invitation.

“I had to see if it was her.” He darted his eyes at me. “I had to tell her I loved her before I said goodbye.”

“A family reunion.” Pale Rider was back. “Did you get out all you wanted to say?”

“No,” I choked out as fast as I could before Pale Rider permanently shut me up. “I love you, Maize. You’re my best friend. You find a way to get those kids back for me. You tell them …” My voice broke, and he flinched. “You tell them I’ll always love them, and I’ll be watching them from heaven with Momma.” Even though Momma might sure be in hell.

“How you so sure you going to heaven?” A Reaper came from behind me, wrapping my hands back up.

This time I cried out in pain. “Because I believe in Jesus Christ, my Savior and Lord.”

Let them do to me as they willed. They wouldn’t take faith from me now. That was all I had left.

“You hear that, Shaq? Your sista’s got Jesus. I guess you got the Devil.” They flashed signs at me, and I turned my head from them.

One said, “You go on and finish this quick, Charon. She gets to go meet her maker.”

I could feel the energy in the air, hear the rapid beating of hearts racing. Everything seemed so distinct to me—so close to my face. I could feel Maize’s fear and hopelessness rising.

“Please,” I heard him beg. “Don’t.”

Charon stepped forward. He looked like he had years of torture scarring him. He slammed Maize in the nose, and Maize’s head snapped back. I flinched for his pain. I was sure his nose was broken.

“She’s mine. We gonna do this like it was done to Tiny—execution style.” They grabbed me by my hair again and dragged me out to the middle of the dirt yard.

I heard cries of rage from the other Reapers, and my mind closed to their voices.

Pale Rider stepped in front of me. “Wait!”

His hands came up, and I prayed for a pardon. Would this Caesar let me go free?

“Let Shaq show us his loyalty. Let him be the one to pull the trigger. Give him your gun.”

“But … I …”

He was interrupted sharply. “Take the gun, or you go down with her.”

Oh, Lordy! How did it come to this? I watched Maize’s hand—the hand that could grip a basketball like no other I’d ever seen, that hand I’d held through so many panic attacks. The hand that grabbed the gun that was going to take my life.

I didn’t know how I was able to speak, but I was. “Maize, I love you. Just do it fast. Get the kids and run.”

He put the gun over his head and fired three shots. The other members raised their weapons and let off another volley of shots. I heard some of them paying tribute to Tiny, their fallen warrior. The gun was slowly lowered, and I watched as Maize’s black pant legs brushed up against my shoulder. I tried to lean into him, to feel the comfort of my baby brother one last time, but I swayed and missed, falling to the ground.

Somebody kicked my head, and I felt the brunt of a shoe crushing my skull. My body was moving in slow motion again, pulled and dragged and set upright. He was behind me now. The boy I’d loved from the first second I’d seen his crystal-blue eyes. I had never been alone in this world, because I’d always had him to protect—always had his back. And now he was against mine. I could hear his ragged breath, feel his fear creeping up my spine, even as the muzzle of the gun was shoved hard against the back of my head. I stared straight ahead, waiting for death to come. Waiting for the end. Somehow, in the midst of this, I had found my peace.

God, let Maize be forgiven for this. Let Maize make it out. Please, Jesus, put your arms around …

Pop.

The shot rang in my ears. A steel-toed boot shoved me violently, crushing me, pushing me down. My face hit the grass, and I braced myself for the rush of pain that coursed through my body. I heard sirens and the sounds of a gate being busted—scraping metal and clanging chains.

“Raid!”

I heard shouts from every direction.

“Don’t move.”

Dogs barked.

Were they friendly, or should I be scared?

My thoughts crashed together like clanging cymbals. I could feel the pressure of a bookbag. Was I at school? No—it was too heavy for a bookbag. My books weren’t that heavy. What was it? I tried to force myself to rise, but I was tied to the ground with invisible cables.

A body was lying over me.

Dead weight.

Oh, my God!

Was it Maize?

I tried to lift my head, but I couldn’t. Those big shoes truly did leave a mighty fine impression on me. My vision was blurred. I caught a glimpse of black pants moving past me. Faded jeans. Black work boots. Tight, black pants with blue stripes down the sides. Why would I catalog clothes at a time like this?

“Miss, are you okay?” A firm hand was on my shoulder. “Miss, can you hear me?”

The weight lifted off my body. I floated like a bird in the storm. My eyes closed, and I succumbed to the darkness, praying that when it was all over and done with, I would see light at the end.