Vigilante Angels Book I: the Priest: Vigilante Angels, #1 by Billy DeCarlo

Author:Billy DeCarlo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: police vigilante justice murder organized crime, serial killer dark disturbing vengeful urban pulp, noir revenge hatred racism cop retribution anger, executioner prejudice terminal cancer diagnosis, loss rage Marine veteran retaliation aged death, loss grief hero criminal savior convict aging, gay lgbt homophobia lgbtq homosexual
Publisher: Wild Lake Press, Inc
Published: 2018-01-11T00:00:00+00:00

14 Cemetery

WHILE HE WAITED for Moses to arrive, Tommy read the words on the speckled gray headstone aloud. “Paul Edward Campagna.” The small chips of quartz in the granite reflected the sunlight. Paulie, my mentor. Paulie, my pseudo-big brother. Always one year older, one year wiser, one step ahead.

Tommy squatted, trying to reconcile the contents of the earth beneath him with the friend who had shared most of his life. Memories flashed through his mind, one after another, like choppy 8mm home-movie clips: Paulie, his hero, scoring on the football field. Paulie, his hero, making out with the girls he could only fantasize about. Paulie, his hero, always there with big-brother advice and encouragement. Paulie, his hero, picture splashed across the front page of the newspaper under the headline: ‘Cop Slain in Bodega Heist.’

He looked across the cemetery. The sun had retreated behind an ominous cloud. The stark gray trees blended with the dull man-made colors of the grave markers, gravel roadway, and iron cemetery fence. He looked back to his friend’s name on the headstone.

“How you doing, pal?” Tommy asked the silent monument. Tommy imagined what he would’ve said. While he composed his friend’s response, he picked at the tip of a rock embedded in the ground.

I’m doing okay, Tommy. Don’t worry about me; worry about yourself. I am where I am, and you’re still in the world. Take care of yourself.

He pushed at the tip of the rock again with his finger.

“I know you’re watching, maybe watching over me. I’m troubled, big buddy. I’m sick. Sick inside, sick of people, sick of the state of this society. It’s worse since you left, getting worse all the time.

“I guess I got a bit of a pass with the Big C. They say I’m stabilized. For now, at least.”

He tried to move the tip of the rock back and forth, but it wouldn’t budge. His finger was starting to bleed, but he kept at it. The rock didn’t belong there. It was the only part of the gray ugliness he felt he could control.

“I got a plan with this other guy—black fella, can you believe that? Good guy. We kind of thought this plan up on account of us both dying from cancer; maybe we’ll clean this world up a bit before we check out, do some good. Something you would’ve loved, right out of the movies. But now I’m getting better, and he’s getting worse. I’m worried about getting him in trouble. There’s this priest—he’s a bad guy, real bad. He needs to be dealt with. Hurt some kids. I don’t know now...maybe it’s not such a good idea. I’m conflicted, Paulie.”

Do what sets you free, Tommy. Do what your heart tells you. You’re good, you were always the good one. Soon we’ll be together again. Everything is temporary, except here in the hereafter. Make me proud. You always made me proud.

A nearby disturbance caught his attention. Several young men were walking past the cemetery, outside the tall spike-tipped fence: white, black, mixed race, and Latino.

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