The Killing Room (Richard Montanari) - By Richard Montanari Page 0,5
such thing as ADD, at least not in the inner city, a time when kids who tapped their feet or banged their pencils on their desks or acted out in any way, were sent to the office for being a disruptive influence.
When he was fifteen, Terrell found an outlet for all that nervous energy. His outlet was track and field. With hardly a single season of training under his belt he became a holy terror in the 100- and 200-meter events, taking all-city in his sophomore year and leading his team to the state finals as a junior. Scouts came from as far away as UCLA.
One night, while Terrell was sweeping up at his part-time job at an auto body shop on Frankford, two men entered. They fired six bullets into the shop’s owner, James DuBois, two into Terrell’s stomach. DuBois was DOA; Terrell was rushed to Jefferson Hospital where, within four hours, he was listed in stable condition.
Nothing of value was stolen.
Police investigated the case, but neighbors, as expected, saw nothing, heard nothing. Another phantom killer in the city of Philadelphia. Word on the street was that a North Philly drug dealer named DeRon Wilson had done it as a payback to Terrell because Terrell had disrespected Wilson by not joining the gang.
A week later Terrell Hightower was released from Jefferson Hospital in a wheelchair. He went back to school, but his heart was no longer in his studies, as his legs were no longer able to carry him to victory on the track. He eventually walked again, with a cane, but his dreams of an athletic scholarship vaporized. After high school Terrell worked briefly as a mechanic in Camden, but the jobs didn’t last. He went from there to minimum-wage jobs, to disability, to the pipe.
Ten minutes into the day that would be his nineteenth birthday Terrell Hightower put the barrel of a 9mm pistol against the soft palate in his mouth and pulled the trigger. Around his neck were two dozen ribbons he had won on the tracks of southeastern Pennsylvania.
It was with these images in mind that Kevin Byrne pulled over near the corner of Third and Indiana. He knew he could be seen from any number of vantage points, had already been spotted. He wanted to be seen.
Byrne reached into the glove compartment, took out a cold Colt .38 revolver. He checked the cylinder, snapped it back, thinking:
In this city, any city, you are the hunter, or you are food.
Byrne put the weapon on the seat next to him, six words stalking the corners of his mind:
Terrell didn’t bang like they say.
THREE
As an icy draft knifes across the basement, the young man sits rigidly on a wooden chair. He is naked: Adam banished to this bleak and frigid garden. There are myriad whispers here, the last pleadings of the faithless.
He has been here one full day.
She looks at him, sees the bones beneath his skin. This is a moment for which she has waited all her days. In her fingertips now lives an ancient magic, a power that gives her dominion over the thieves, the fornicators, the usurers.
‘It is time,’ she says.
The young man begins to cry.
‘You must tell him what you said. Word for word. I want you to think carefully. It is very important.’
‘I … I don’t remember,’ he says.
She steps forward, lifts his chin, looks into his eyes. ‘Do you want me to tell you what you said?’
The young man nods. ‘Yes.’
‘You said: “I would do anything not to get AIDS. I would even sell my soul to the devil.”’
The young man does not respond to this. No response was expected. He glances at the opening into the other room. ‘I can’t look at him. When it happens, I can’t look at him.’
She removes her coat, folds it gently onto the altar cloth on the floor.
‘Your name has meaning in the Bible,’ she says. ‘Did you know that?’
He shakes his head. ‘No.’
‘Your name means “God is my judge.”’ She reaches into her bag, removes the hypodermic, prepares it. ‘According to the Word, Daniel was brought to Babylon. It is said he could interpret dreams.’
Seconds later, as the first drop of blood falls, as it did that terrible day on Calvary, she knows that the screams of the children of disobedience will soon fill the city.
All contracts are due.
The devil has returned to Philadelphia.
FOUR
Get it together, Jess. If you don’t, you’re going to die right here, right now.