From: Ryan Surdley (firstname.lastname@example.org)
To: Eric Carter (email@example.com)
Subject: A surprise!
Santa Monica, California
Yo! How’s life brotha?! I’m sending this from MY e-mail address. Fuck Nateboy dude, he was always a douche hahaha! Let’s go!
As Nathan was munching on the windows like a fucking psycho, Austin patted me on the back and encouraged me to get in the hideout where Rattlesnakes were wondering what the fuck was going on. The hideout was pretty much like a fugly underground bar and it was playing old school death metal noise. The “bartender” quickly grabbed a bottle and threw it at Austin, who quickly hit it with his fucking bat in fucking mid-air. God damn! “We’re under attack!” he shouted and all the members who were in there emerged from the basement I assume, with melee weapons and motherfucking guns! Oh not this shit again!
Austin quickly tumbled a table over and dove in prone position, slowly moving away from it like a snail. I crouched down behind a wall near him and fucking prayed I didn’t get sprayed. “You seriously think the wood will keep you safe?!” I asked as multiple gunshots were heard. “Shut up smart-ass!” Austin replied. “Where the fuck is Nate?!” he asked. With that, I pulled out my pistol and hoped to God I would get someone without getting killed! So I closed my eyes and blind fired my entire first mag. Austin moved to the front and quickly shot a guy dead with no hesitation. The Rattles surely didn’t expect things that hairy by one guy. Meanwhile, I was about to shit my pants as my feet were fucking shaking and cold!
The remaining 10-15 Rattles took cover and all of them locked and loaded. I was scared shitless. It was about to be a firefight. While Austin was reloading, he turned to me and shouted “Watch out, kid! He’s closing in on you!”
When I peeked around the wall, I saw Nateboy grabbing the dude from his neck with his baseball bat, while aiming towards all of them. “He’s got Doug, he’s got Doug! Get that motherfucker!” the “bartender” shouted. Nate tightened the hold and put the bat under his dirty-ass armpit. “You want Doug, motherfuckers?” he asked. “Nate, what the fuck are you doing?!” I shouted. “Get that son of a bitch!” another member shouted. “Watch out for Doug!”
Austin fired a warning shot on Doug’s calf. Ouch!
Doug pushed himself really hard to scream in pain, while he was gasping for air. Holy shit man, Nateboy and Austin surely went brutal on this one! The “hardcore” gang members ceased fire. Thank fucking Mary and Jesus, bro. “If y’all want this motherfucker to live, get up!” Nate said and hid his face behind Doug’s head. Smart move! “Alright now drop your guns!” he shouted. The guys didn’t do anything. Austin then shot Doug’s other calf. Oh man the blood and the screaming was so fucking uneasy. The members got up and after mumbling out a ton of fucks and bitches, they eventually dropped their guns. Austin nodded at Nate and whispered something with ‘pinpoint’ but I wasn’t sure what it was about. Nate quickly pushed Doug over to Austin, who rushed to get up to catch an almost unconscious and limp Doug from falling over. Nate quickly ran to cover, while the Rattles tried to get their guns. Austin gripped Doug tightly and aimed at the others. “Don’t even fuckin’ think ‘bout it!” he shouted. Nathan looked at me and I gestured for him to tell me what the fuck was going on. He then put his hands under his cheek in a sleeping position. BANG! I saw Austin clearing out the bar, Rattlesnake by Rattlesnake. Headshot after headshot. I wanted to throw up, but I was starting to get used to it, no, I had to get used to it! The blood and the pistol shots faded out eventually and Doug was the only Rattlesnake alive in the room. I got out of the corner and approached Nate, who was now trying to tell Doug to shut up. Austin let him go and his body slouched on the floor. Austin then aimed at Doug’s head, but Nate stopped him. “No, don’t do it” he said. “Let him go.”
“Yeah man” I said and rested my shaking hand on Nate’s shoulder. “Let him live!”
Austin then shrugged and put Doug’s hat back in place. “You got a message to deliver” Austin told him. Then we ran off the bar to our vehicles, as we heard fucking cops in the distance. “Split up, split up!” Nate shouted. “Ryan, take the bike home, I’ll make it there on foot.”
“What the fuck are you talking about man?!” I asked, obviously confused as to what I was fucking hearing.
“Ryan, they’ll find us” he explained. “They know us, for fuck’s sake.”
“We don’t have time!” he shouted. “It’s okay, Ry. I’ll see you at home” he said and took off, running.
I put on my helmet and kept the bandanna on. Gangsta shit, bro. “Good luck, kid!” Austin said and left in his car.
I kickstarted the bike and boosted off to find Nathan at his apartment. Luckily, no police chase ensued. Those motherfuckers were probably on Nate or Austin. Or neither of them, hopefully. I could hear the sirens coming astray, so I was good. Closing in on the block Nateboy’s place was in, I saw him waiting on a street corner, smoking. How the fuck?! “The fuck took you so long?” he asked. “How the fuck did you get here so fast?!” I replied, with a question. It makes sense, right?
“Took a cab” he shrugged, right before we heard shouting from around the block. “The fuck?” Nate said. “Let’s see what’s going on. Even though last time we checked something out, it didn’t turn out the way we planned.”
We slowly walked to the source of the noise and we saw a couple of young guys beating up someone. Nate swung his baseball bat and walked closer. “Having fun kids?” he asked. The group of college kids turned around and ran away when they saw him. “This dude serious, let’s bail!” one of them shouted. Pussies. Down on the ground was a young dude with shaggy hair, a baseball t-shirt and olive shorts, y’know trying to stand on his feet. He looked familiar…
Nateboy approached the guy and asked him if he was alright and then the dude showed his face. We kinda lost our shit. “Little Johnny?” Nate said. Holy shit, it was Little Johnny! Well, Little Johnny is a boy we knew from the neighborhood we grew up in. He’s way younger than us. We hadn’t seen him in a couple of years! He should’ve been around 18 by then. He was always the ‘good’ guy who got himself in trouble without wanting to. He kinda deserved it, actually. Little Johnny got up and took a closer look at us. “Nate? Ryan? The Whitleys?!” he gasped. “Thanks for the help guys! Well, unless you beat me up right now” he said. We could as well do so.
Woah Eric, g2g gotta poop bro! TTYL
Ryan Surdley – RS