We Beat The Streets Novels & Stories

I growled. “Yes boss.” Came the immediate response as everyone moved instantly. I slid behind the wheel and slammed my foot on the accelerator, heading straight for the church. My men and allies roared down the streets with me, engines screaming, the smell of gasoline and gunpowder thick in the air. We tore through the city like a storm. The second we reached St. Andrews, hell broke loose. Guns blazed, bullets tore through the air, and the enemy scrambled to fight back but they were hopelessly outnumbered.

The Bronx did not look like the cradle of a new world; it looked like a city losing a war it didn't know it was fighting. When Avery stepped out of the black SUV in front of St. Jude’s of the Asphalt, the air was thick with the smell of wet pavement and the ozone of a thousand idling police cruisers. The global "Blood Debt" had officially defaulted an hour ago, and the shockwaves were hitting the street in the form of "Red-Out" riots.

Getting caught normally resulted in a beating. The first time that he got beat up while on the streets happened when he pulled the wallet from the back pocket of some fat man's pants. He was surprised to learn that even a man fifty pounds overweight could outrun him! The man punched him in the face several times and once he'd retrieved his wallet kicked him in the gut for good measure.

Chapter Fourteen: Dancing They exited the shop the way they had come after Orin assured her there was no need to pay, and it would be on his tab automatically. They returned to the sidewalk, but didn’t get back in the van. Instead, they walked two blocks through rough areas to emerge onto a main street with several clubs and a string of food trucks. She marveled at how quickly things changed, morphing from the decaying neighborhood to one showing obvious signs of rejuvenation. “Where do we start?”

I might not be able to hold on for long. I picked a stone up and threw it across the street. Everyone who saw me stared at me with pain in their eyes. Only a few people were moving around. The street seems strange to me too. I wondered if the streets were mourning her absence. Maybe the pack members are missing her so much they had agreed to stay indoors. "Maybe they feel your pain," my subconscious mind said

Jack walked to the window and peered through the blinds. Down in the street, the atmosphere had changed. The apathy of the slums was gone. Every face was illuminated by the red glow of their phones. Street vendors were pulling shotguns from under their noodle carts. Gangbangers were loading magazines. Even the beggars were looking at each other with a new, hungry calculation. The city wasn't a city anymore. It was a lottery drum, and Jack was the winning ticket. "Anywhere but here," Jack said, locking the clinic door and jamming a chair under the handle. "We need wheels. And we need to get off the grid before the real pros show up."

They knew that when the time came, they wouldn't be fighting alone. On the desolate streets of Omaha, a profound stillness enveloped the town, a quiet that belied the impending chaos. Under the cover of darkness, Beverly and Miller, father and daughter reunited by the cruel hands of fate, advanced cautiously towards King Rico's foreboding house. Their steps were swift but silent, fueled by a mixture of determination and fear. They were prepared to confront the wicked werewolf who had brought so much suffering into their lives.

She stood and walked past him in her dark coat, his arm stopped bleeding, his wound closed. Susan walked out into broad daylight, she looked to both ends of the street. Beatrice lived in this rough neighbourhood, her gaze fell on a group of bare-chested, tattooed covered, and dangerous-looking men with dogs by the roadside, she walked up to them. Susan noted the guns in their hands, she looked away from it for there was only one true danger on this street, and she was now before them. "What are you doing in a hood like this baby?" one of the men with a face cap worn backward asked.

“Let’s go. We’ve got work to do.” We walked out into the cold morning light, the streets of the city bustling around us as we moved with purpose. There was no going back from this. The fight with Vasquez was only just beginning. But with Carter by my side, I knew we had a chance. And that was all I needed to keep going.

‎ ‎Then Becky zoomed off. ‎The streets were alive as we drove past blinding lights and extra energy, ‎ ‎Yes I knew new York was the city that never sleeps but, this was just extra. ‎ ‎Was it the 4th of July or am I just overly an introvert? ‎ ‎"Here..here, let's go in here" I gestured excitedly at the big building with heavy music jarring out. ‎ ‎It had boldy written on it, ‎ ‎"THE GATES OF HELL"