Watched Too Long: A Thriller (Val Ryker Series) by Peterson Ann Voss & Konrath J.A

Author:Peterson, Ann Voss & Konrath, J.A. [Peterson, Ann Voss]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: General Fiction
Published: 2016-03-23T04:00:00+00:00

Jet Row

Hells yeah!

Never lit no brick on fire before!

Take that, brick! Who’s the man now? Enough lighter fluid and anything will—

BANG!

Jet Row felt it across his legs, tearing through his jeans, his skin, his muscles and bones.

Shot!

I just got shot!

“Why?!?” he yelled to the universe, cursing the unfairness of it all. He was still a young man. Cut down in his prime, just for being born in the ghetto. He thought about all the stuff he’d never get to do in life. Like start more fires. Or burn things. But now he was snuffed, like a poor little match caught in a strong breeze, all because gun laws weren’t harsh enough.

The pain was crazy. Like a million bees stinging him, he imagined, because he never got stung by a bee before. He was afraid to look. From the agony he felt, his legs had to be shredded. Hamburger meat. He knew he’d see tendons and arteries and all kinds of crazy anatomical shit. Dude just minding his own business, and the Man gotta break out a shotgun. That shit ain’t right.

Jet Row reached down, touching his thighs, expecting to touch bone.

Instead, there were just a few small dots of blood. And some white flakes.

What the hell crazy shit was this?

He pinched a white crystal, squinted at it, and put it to his lips.

Salt.

They shot me with salt.

And it hurt like nobody’s business.

Jet Row sneezed. Then his mouth and eyes began to burn.

What was that?

Pepper?

He rubbed his face, but all that did was get more pepper in his eyes. It wasn’t fair. What kind of crazy crackers shot people with spices? Weren’t there laws? No one ever gives inner city kids a chance. Soon as they try to do something with their lives, BAM!; salt and pepper all up in your face.

It was enough to make a kid join a street gang.

“Yo, Jet Row, you hit?”

Jet Row couldn’t see who said it. Sounded like Bön Dawg.

“They shot me, man!”

“You look okay.”

“They shot me with condiments, man!”

“Condiments?”

“Like I’m some kinda side dish! Without enough flava!”

“What you saying, fool?”

“Salt and pepper! Crazy bitch got spices in her shotgun!”

“What the hell is wrong with you white people?”

“Man, I don’t shoot that shit! You being racist again!”

“Sorry.”

“It hurts, dog.”

“Aw, shit! There’s pepper in the air!”

“I’m telling you, she’s goin’ all Iron Chef on a coupla bangers.”

“Shit, it’s in my eyes!”

“It’s in my eyes, too, man.”

“What do we do?”

“Only one thing we can do, Bön Dawg.”

And so Jet Row started to cry.

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