Kill the King Read Free Page B

look at what was
happening on the street ahead of him. He grimaced at the sight of
what he knew all along in the pit of his stomach, and dreaded the
moment he discovered he had unknowingly wandered onto Borgergade
Avenue.
    They’re on a
night hunt.
    Tyler had no
hesitations that this was what he was observing from afar. It was a
cherished endeavour among the Fourteens, often carried out as a
training exercise when new recruits joined the ranks and needed to
make their bones. Tyler counted two skinheads standing only a
hundred feet away, with two more revving up their motorcycles and
doing tricks while the others were putting a beating on an old
black man. They laughed and taunted their withered victim as they
took turns stomping and kicking him.
    He must be a
junkie. No other reason why he’d be out this far and this late.
    Tyler felt
somewhat relieved. . .at least they were busy putting the beatdown
on the old guy. He only had another block—maybe two at most—before
he could reach the side gates of the cemetery and find temporary
safety within.
    Final stretch.
I have to make a run for it. No other way.
    Tyler gritted
his teeth and made a mad dash for the alleyway that stood across
from him. It was a wide boulevard and he couldn’t skip a single
beat. He reached the other side at last, but before he could catch
his breath he realized that he was spotted after all. . . he could
hear the hasty footsteps of someone charging in his direction. The
splashing puddles he stomped through in his desperate sprint must
have been loud enough to get him noticed.
    Tyler turned
his head and saw the cemetery gates just a short run away from the
other side of this new alley he found himself in, but another tall
fence stood in his path. There was no way he could scale it in time
before his pursuer could catch up to him. He would have to find
another way to deal with him. Tyler moved deeper into the dark
alley and hid behind a wet, foul-smelling dumpster. At least this
could buy him a minute to think things out.
    “Here, nigger
nigger. . .come out, little nigger! I saw you scuttling around
here. Don’t be shy, boy. Come outta there!”
    Tyler didn’t
move or make a sound. He couldn’t make out the size of this
skinhead, but from the sound of his voice he was most likely big,
angry, and drunk. The skinhead loudly taunted his unknown prey from
behind the beam of orange light that shone on the edge of the alley
where he stood.
    “Come out, come
out, or I’ll blow your little nigger house down! You can’t hide in
the darkness forever, boy! Do you think I’m afraid of the dark?
Huh? I’m talking to you, nigger! I know you can hear me!”
    The skinhead’s
taunts went unanswered.
    “Time’s up,
nigger! I’m coming in there, and when I get my hands on y—”
    The brick
hurled at his face shut him up immediately. It hit him right
between the eyes, the impact so strong it set him back several
steps back. The skinhead remained standing but was dazed from the
shot. His eyes were caked with dust and his nose gushing blood as
his rocked brain struggled to grasp what had just happened. He
clumsily stumbled with a hand stretched outwards, looking for a
wall to lean on. He was maybe two steps away from succeeding before
the alley darkness hurled another brick at him once more, this time
hitting him in the ear and dropping him hard onto the sidewalk
outside the alley. He lay face-down on the asphalt, motionless and
with blood dripping from his ears. Another voice could be heard
nearby, as well as the familiar sound of hurried jackboots making
frenetic contact with the street.
    “Jesus Christ!
What the fuck?”
    Goddamn it. .
.
    Tyler opted to
escape this time around, not wanting to push his luck with his
brick-tossing skills. He couldn’t make it more than half-way up the
fence before a thin metal rod made contact with his ankles. The
fall on the asphalt below was so hard he nearly blacked out from
the impact.
    The second
skinhead was older