Joel Mubumbo-Cohen was locked and loaded as the sun set behind him. He looked super cool; he just knew it. Joel was one of 25 Cosby Kids who'd "called" (or bought) hunting rights to a healthy chunk of real estate in Ferguson, Missouri. These 25 had divided a beef shank territory consisting of Chambers Rd at the top, Lucas-Hunt Rd at the bottom with West Florissant Rd and Halls-Ferry flanking the sides. Burned out, low rent shopping plazas, dollar stores and hair salons. A windowless and charred ALDI's grocery. And lots or rental properties. Typical of areas like this. Not that Cosby Kids were familiar with such places. They were the children of privilege. Even lower middle class blacks need not apply.
Cosby Kids.
That's what they called themselves now. It was the cutesy nickname given to them by white conservatives and a rainbow of drooling online fans. Their real moniker was The Talented Teens or "junior T &T's". Their prosperous, educated black and interracial parents made up the Talented Tenth. But even they were an offshoot of something else. An old idea smothered generations ago and rebirthed in fire; the Ferguson Missouri fires, to be exact. Though it would be foolish to blame Ferguson for all of it.
Most Cosby Kids were like Joel. They were age 14 to 19, had lived in homes costing no less than $350,000, and were private or home schooled. Nearly 60% classifed themselves as mixed race. Though only 25% of them actually had a non-black parent- usually their mothers.
Joel's sister, Sarah Cohen, jogged around the back of a burned out New York Chicken restuarant with a black titanium blow gun in her hand. It had a miniscule telescopic site that could find a squirel's asshole from 3 blocks away. Very expensive and a gift from her father. Sarah had dropped the "Mubumbo" with the full permission of a jewish mother who'd kept her maiden name after marrying a rich Nigerian doctor and giving up her less than notable career.
"Are we set, Joe?"
Sarah whispered. It was all theatrics. This 'hood was full of people; "The Natives" as Cosby Kids called them. "Natives, hoodrats, ghetto trash, project bitches, coons,beasties, thugs........niggers" (in the Chris Rock philosophy- of course. Not the Klan. To-ooo-tally different!). They all were hiding,now. Dug in deep. No Crips-Bloods style blastin' and protecting their turf. That ended after the first two Purges when the homeboyz discovered all they were good at shooting was each other (or bystanders) and that one skilled hand with a rifle could take out several of them in seconds. Now they stay off the streets until its over (or they are forced out).
"Of Course." Joel replied in his usual show of supreme confidence.
"The block is ours. Maybe the Goodings will come over when they're done with their section. I told them there wouldn't be much action over there. It's too obvious. Too easy. Residential areas?! Flimsy ranch houses! Apartment complexes! And two-story ones at that! Come on! Even ghetto types aren't that stupid. They know we can drop the whole building with one well placed explosive. Heck, grandma could scale those roach motels with one of our old, motorized grappling hooks. No. We have the best spot. Patches of woods, creeks, a school! Lots of dark places to run and hide. Hope Springs! Haha! That what we have here, sis! This is where they'll be- sooner or later. Look at all the burned out store fronts!.......WHYYYY?! OOH WHY? WOULD THEY HIDE HERE?!
Joel sang this loudly and with high camp. He knew they were listening- somewhere- in the dark and cursing themselves for not dying at home or in the basement shelter at the school with others. Sarah burst into laughter, then said,
"If the Goodings kill all their own, they're going to have to wait until we say they can come over here. That's only fair."
She pouted in a way that worked so well on her father, who adored her light skin, large unruly curls, and brown eyes light enough to see the pupils easily. Joel looked more like his dad. Though the 16 yr old was rather wide hipped for a male (like his mom) he was tall and had large square shoulders and a barrel chest. Sarah joked that he looked like a bleached , African dictator in his military school uniform. He also had his father's broad, but pronounced nose with flared nostrils that seemed to twitch and flutter like a rabbit when he was speaking with authority or dealing with those, much despised black Americans.
"They aren't African!"
Dr. Mubumbo had said on many occasions to his children.
'They are cast offs! The feculence of the slave class. They are nothing."
Ms.Cohen agreed, but poo-pooed her husband's harsh language.
"My cousins are more African American." she tossed out with a chuckle. Her family had lived in South Africa since the 1930's- when Hitler's influence envaded Poland years before his armies did. The Cohens had made a small fortune processing diamond chips for use in industrial cutters. They lost half that fortune when the Apartheid government they'd supported fell and their black workers refused to inhale diamond dust and powdered alkaloids for $12 a day. All of her family now lived in the US or Israel.
Joel checked the Ruger LCR 357 magnum holstered on his hip. His holster was a light khaki nylon- near white. He wanted it to be seen. All the better for the weapons he concealed. ALL SAFETYS OFF.
"There's plenty for everyone." he replied.
"Everyone". Not everybody. Cosby Kids were known for their hatred of bad grammar and their love of annual bloodshed- black blood, that is. They could be extremely proper and highly predatory.
"I can't seeeee anything!" Sarah whined, fiddling with her headpiece.
"Stop it!" Joel snapped. "Yes you can! That camera is the best money can buy. You can practically see through walls."
Sarah gave an irritated sigh and adjusted the camera attached to her head with strong. lightweight, stretch nylon. It was a Nikon Deity - a camera militarized for Russian and then, Israeli use. A gift from her mother. The camera weighed less than 2.5 lbs and featured five separate lenses recording images in day mode, low lights, infra red, night vision, High Def color, and ion spectral (a Co2 and noxious gas detector which pixelates dangerous chemical vapors and human breath into bright gray scale patterns, easily seen in black and white video). Smart glass technology could project and enlarge any of these images on the fly with voice command. At the last Purge, Joel and Sarah spotted a small group of Natives hunkered down on the roof top of a building. Infrared picked up their heat signature, but ion spectral exposed the 8 Molotov Cocktails they had waiting. Bright grey plumes of alcohol and petroleum vapor jetted from each unlit bottle, picking up with the wind. Joel lobbed an Israel grenade into a broken window a floor below and sent the Natives up into the air with percussive force and down, 3 stories with gravity. And all with fantastic footage.
"I know I can see, jerk-off! But there's nothing here to see. Let's go to the school. Plee-eease!" Sarah begged.
"No."
Joel replied flatly and without a hint of compromise; the way his father often addressed him. "We don't want them scattering early. Let's get a few hits here and there. Let them hear us hunting. There are people right here. You know it. Just be patient. Enjoy your appetizer."
This brought a smile to Sarah's face since she knew what her appetites were. Joel adjusted his backpack and held out a hand to his sister.
"Come on, stupey. Let's walk the block and get some scenic footage. You know how you like to Scorsese it up in editing."
"Coppola." Sarah corrected. "And Sophia- not her oldman." she huffed in disgust.
It had always struck Joel as odd that Sarah didn't care much for their father. Everyone knew it. But Dr. Mubumbo still coddled his little princess.
They walked along West Florissant Rd with Sarah robotic-ally moving her head from side to side and getting video of everything they could see and much of what they couldn't. Then, she saw it. Or rather, the infrared camera spotted it- a flare of red-orange set back into the cold, blue-black deadspace of a looted cell phone store. The large fluorescent mass moved slowly,only partly disappearing behind busted glass and metal display counters. It seemed to be crawling awkwardly in an attempt to stay out of site. Indeed, this red elephant would have succeeded, if not for the Deity on Sarah's head. Through her Smartglass screen, Sarah saw the mass struggle to squeeze through what must have been a partially opened door in the back of the store.
"Got one." she said to Joel, her breath heavy; sending a jolt straight to his groan.
YOU ARE READING
The Purge- (Bill) Cosby Kids
Action"Cosby Kids." That's what they call themselves now. It was the cutesy nickname given to them by drooling online fans. Cosby Kids were known for their hatred of bad grammar and their love of annual bloodshed.
