OPIUM KINGS Novel excerpt

Ritchie Dagger...

   As soon as the dealer drops the bags into Ritchie’s hand, boom, all hell breaks loose downstairs. Cops, dealers and junkies are scrambling everywhere. I can hear the cops smashing through somewhere at the back of the building below. Cracking wood, bending metal, breaking glass, whistles, shouts and screams wail up through the building. The dealers and soldiers bolt up the stairs toward the roof. Ritchie and I have no choice but to follow them up and hope to find a way out. The last soldier in front of us turns around and points his gun straight at Ritchie’s head.

   “Don’t follow motherfucker!” he snarls. His eyes wide with fear and survival.

   “Fuck you. Shoot!” Ritchie snaps back.

   There is no way this cat would whack somebody with the cops about thirty steps behind us. But then again he might not give a shit either. Nowadays they’ll whack you for a cigarette. No time for a standoff, bluff called we follow. This definitely ain’t the Plaza Hotel. My heart is pounding through my chest. My brain is exploding in fear and adrenaline rush. With barely enough light to see, Ritchie is following the feet in front of him and I’m trying to follow his. Praying I don’t fall through four floors of this rotting staircase and into the waiting arms of Officer Krupke. I hear gunshots below us and more screaming. Fuck me.

   Help me God, help me God, help me Jesus, hail Mary full of grace the Lord is with thee now and at the hour of our death amen. St. Jude get me the fuck out of here please. I can’t remember a whole prayer to save my life. Twelve years of Catholic school and I don’t know one complete fucking prayer. Do they still count if you only remember parts of the prayer? I’m just praying and begging, ain’t no atheists in foxholes. How does that fucking prayer go? Give me a prayer, any prayer. Footsteps running ahead of me, footsteps running behind me with deafening noise. Come on, come on, come on. Don’t slip, don’t fall. Shit, piss and motherfucking corruption. Just get me out of here God and I’ll never shoot dope again after tonight. This time I mean it. I swear... Our Father who art in heaven hallowed be thy name... oh Jesus I can’t remember that one either. That’s what Catholic school does to you, they drill it into your head so much that you forget it when you need it most. God damn you Sister Loretta Gerard. No God I didn’t mean that, please just get my ass out of here alive.

   I smell the dust and rotting damp plaster as we bound up the stairs. Where the fuck is the roof? What if there are more cops up there? St. Patty save your Irish son. Finally I see the milky grey light from the open door of the roof shack. Shadows crashing into the twilight sky. As we fly out onto the roof the dealers and soldiers are taking off left. The soldier with the gun turns and just points the gun straight at Ritchie’s face. This time he means it and we know it. We take off right, he takes off left and jumps with the rest of them to the rooftop of the next building over. They disappear down to the roof and scramble. I’m digging this just a little bit.

   Ritchie and I jump-start running toward the opposite ledge, there is no thinking, there is no stopping. More pounding footsteps and shouts coming up from the stairwell behind us. Just jump and fly and pray to make it and land on something besides the ground six stories below. We fly across the span between the two buildings. It looked like a mile but was more like six feet, if that. Crash land and tumble all gravel, tar and broken glass. The palms of my hands are all cut to hell with blood flowing and grit and glass embedded in. My elbows and knees are getting the same punishment through my clothes. Ritchie’s not in such good shape either. He looks more torn up than me. Cursing rips and scrapes, now my knees and elbows are starting to scream.

   “Come on.” I whisper. “Let’s move.”

   Hearts pounding, legs pumping and dry-mouthed we take off through the shadows toward the next building. There is no going down yet. We’ve got to put distance between that scene and the cops. We do it by rooftops for now, just keep flying and praying. We jump off the next ledge, blind again, colliding with the next rooftop, legs and arms rolling and tumbling. All the while trying to be as silent as we can. This isn’t like roof jumping when you were a little kid and you knew every rooftop in the neighborhood. Every jump is unknown distance and landing. We repeat this across a couple of more buildings. More bloody and ripped up with each crash landing.

   We hide behind a roof shack a few buildings down. No cops and nobody following. They may have been too scared to make the jumps but more than likely they went after the dealers and not us. I can see blue and red lights bouncing off the buildings down by the OD. Shadows pacing the OD rooftop. Helicopters approaching with swerving spotlights.

   “Let’s find the fire escape.” I beg.

   Ritchie tries the door to the roof shack and it opens.

   “Down here Smitty. We’ll just stroll out of the front door like we live here.”

   We take our time going down. The building has tenants and there is no need to start a scene by running down the stairs all blood, dirt and wild eyed. Catch a breath, we brush each other off and try to clean up as best we can. We descend wordlessly down to the front door and without hesitation we slide on out and up the street to Ritchie’s cab. God just a little further if you please. Shouts and screams echo up behind us. Don’t look back. We just about fall into the cab. Ritchie starts it up and pulls out. We have to go towards the scene for about a block, make a right and build some distance. My head is ringing, my whole body aches and I’m soaked with sweat and blood. My heart is still pumping with fear.

   "Was that fuckin' great or what!? Ritchie screams.