Read City of Heretics for Free Online

he and all the other white guys in the ranks. Extinction couldn’t be far off.
    It didn’t trouble Crowe. In those days, he actually believed that eventually he would be out of the life. He’d go to the country somewhere, or maybe the ocean, and live out his peaceful old age in a shack or something. He didn’t care what would happen to the mob after that. It would have nothing to do with him.
    That was before prison, though, before he understood. He was already in his old age. Forty-nine wasn’t particularly old for most people, but for men in his position it was downright ancient. He was already extinct.
    The cab driver was an old black guy with strangely reddish hair. Driving south on Danny Thomas, he kept sucking his teeth and saying things like, “Back in my day, it didn’t look nuthin’ like this. It’s a damn shame is what it is, the way it’s all fell apart. This city used to be something. And now look at it. You know, I been robbed three times in the last two months. I don’t even know why I keep comin’ out. I don’t even know anymore.”
    Crowe ignored him, spoke only enough to give him directions off Danny Thomas and back into Jimmy the Hink’s neighborhood. The driver looked at him in the rear-view, wondering what a middle-aged white guy wanted around these parts, but he didn’t ask, just said again, “I don’t even know anymore.”
    About a block from the Hink’s place, Crowe spotted them—three young black guys, huddled at a corner in front of an abandoned house. They were under the yellow acid glare of a streetlight. It was cold but they wore only hoodies with the hoods up to protect themselves from the wind.
    He told the driver to stop, then snapped a fifty dollar bill at him. “Drive around for five minutes, then come back to this spot,” he said. “There’ll be another one of these for you.”
    The driver took the bill, said, “It’s your funeral, I reckon,” and then took off before Crowe even had the door closed behind him.
    The three youngsters noticed him getting out of the cab, but didn’t respond. They only watched from within the shadows of their hoods. He walked over to them.
    When he was only a few feet away, one of them said in a quiet, deadpan voice, “You want somethin’?”
    Crowe stopped, close enough to reach out and touch his chest if he wanted to. “What you got?” he said.
    They eyed him up and down, checking out the suit and tie, and the one doing the talking pushed his hoodie back and cocked his head. He was a good-looking kid with a strong jaw and eyes that glittered in the pale streetlight. He had about two inches on Crowe.
    He said, “You a little over-dressed for the occasion, old man. Maybe you lookin’ for a dinner party, huh?”
    “I found what I’m looking for.”
    “You lookin’ for trouble, then. Blow, old man.”
    Crowe said, “You’re in the wrong neighborhood, kid. What you wanna do is find someplace else.”
    They all smiled at that one. They always did. Crowe didn’t know why he even bothered with it anyway. He watched as all three of them switched to swagger-mode, bumping against each other and laughing and imitating his bravado.
    The talker took a step closer, leaving himself open to show his sheer confidence, and said, “I like your suit, old man, so I’m gonna give you one chance to walk the fuck away, or—“
    Crowe hit him with a right in his kidney and before he could fall he head-butted him in the nose. The kid lurched backward, stiff-legged, his eyes dazed. The other two took almost three seconds to process before they moved.
    The sap was in Crowe’s left hand. As soon as the closest one was within distance, he snapped it backhanded at his face, like swinging a tennis racket. It cracked against his jaw and Crowe could see a couple of teeth surf out on a narrow wave of blood before the kid fell to the sidewalk.
    The third one was expending a lot of energy with words— motherfucker, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you , that