Bodies

dix-sept

The car was quickly surrounded by the teams of SWAT men on the road.

Knocking on the driver's side window, the police gestured for Malcolm to roll the window down. Milan could hear her heartbeat in her ears. 

"Good evening, officers... what seems to be the problem?" Malcolm put on the voice of a top selling car salesmen. Milan was surprised he could open his mouth all of the way to speak. 

"We've closed the expressway. There has been an enormous spike in gun violence in the past two hours. We've cut off all access to downtown. Please take the next open exit." The officer told Malcolm while another officer shone a flashlight through the darkly tinted windows.

The beams of light made Milan feel like she was in an episode of First 48.

It was like air had finally began to flow back in the car with the way everyone let out a sigh of relief when they realized the SWAT team wasn't for Ramses.

With a pat to the hood of the car, the police barricade allowed the vehicle to pass through enough to make it to the next exit. This, instead of taking them farther into downtown away from the neighborhood communities, pushed the trio back into the streets that didn't want to be on right.

Ramses and Milan were now refugees from both of their neighborhoods. Getting let off at the beginning of Martin Luther King Drive, Ramses sat back in the seat he was in. He ran a palm over his face, slouching down so that his whole body was no longer in front of the window.

Malcolm was speeding down every backroad known to man.

However, turning down one alleyway, he hit one speedbump a little too fast. This caused the car to slam into the ground with a loud thud. Directly after, the sound of a fast hiss followed the car leaning slightly over. 

They'd just caught a flat tire. 

"Goddammit X! The night everybody want a body, you wanna play speed motherfuckin' racer." Ramses yelled exasperated. Malcolm just put his forehead on the steering wheel and groaned. 

"N*gga, we homies and allat, but next time yo' ass wanna buss a cap in the VDs main line? Get another fuckin' getaway driver." Malcolm griped to the floor of the car.

Milan continued to look around at where they were. An alleyway. It was dark except for a view poorly scattered streetlights. It was quiet, however Chicago was never a city that truly slept.

"Who gives a fuck? While y'all being mad, we're sitting ducks in this alleyway. Do we have a spare or do we gotta duck and cover like World War 3?" Milan reminded the men and they sobered up. 

He looked out of the mirror closest to him at the street sign near them. "We're right by Morgan Park. If we make it over the hill, by the academy, we'll be safe for the night."  

Both Malcolm and Milan looked at Ramses like he'd grown two heads. 

"And why can't we just call and uber instead?" Milan offered to the group. Ramses smacked his lips. 

"If you wanna stay in a dark alley on motherfuckin' easy street, gon' head. I'd rather make it in the uber than get killed waiting for it." And with that, he opened the door of the car and got out. Malcolm followed silently after, and of course Milan wasn't going to be left by herself.

The group made it out of the alleyway and began to cross the street towards a bridge that crossed over a silent expressway. Tonight was quiet because of the hustle and bustle that was cars being headed downtown was cut off. 

It was an eerie experience. 

"Man, I don't like this." Malcolm mentioned as he walked with his hands in his black sweatpants. He continued to look behind him every step they took. It was Ramses in front, Milan in the middle, and Malcolm holding up the rear as they crossed.