Page 26

His Claim to Flame

“I ain’t sure. ’Round when next week?” Kage questioned. He was working with his crew on a room addition for a client. Taking a break to answer the call from his cousin, Phoenix, he stepped to the side, putting the man on speaker phone.

“The Kawaski. The ignition barrels are actin’ up.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard about that. Any other issues?”

“Sometimes it wanna act like it’s havin’ a fit when I start it up.”

“Okay, yeah. Bring her in Wednesday.”

“I’ll tow it over. Thanks. Talk to ya later.”

“Hold on now. Before you go, how’s it going with the problem?”

Kage sucked in air as he observed the guys he’d brought with him busy at work. The sounds of country music played on one of their phones as they laid cement, laughing on occasion.

“That problem is still goin’. I spoke to Roman and Lennox the other day, ’bout to call Roman back tonight, but the old man is losin’ a little of his predictability. It’s okay. I’ve got somethin’ for him.”

“Make sure that you do. He left a threatenin’ voicemail for me the other day.” Phoenix chuckled and shook his head. “He just won’t let up. I changed my number, but he got my new one anyway. That bodyguard of his made himself known, too.”

“Jasper?” Kage tsked, then spit in the grass.

“That motherfucker’s lips are sutured to Grandpa’s ass.

No wonder he takes his shit. Hell, we could move clear across the country, and he’d still find us.

Now, this is important, Phoenix. I need to holler at you about an idea I have, and give you a detailed tour of my property, too, but now ain’t the time. Let’s break bread soon.”

“Notta problem. In fact, call Lennox and Roman, and let the four of us meet. Hell, you can invite the whole gang if you want, but at least us because we know he’s gonna follow this in a certain order.”

“Yeah, I’ll get that arranged.” They finished up their conversation and Kage disconnected the call.

A few hours later, quitting time arrived. Covered in grime, sweat and dirt, he bid his employees good night, told them to be there at 8:00 AM sharp, and they got in their respective vehicles and drove off.

His thoughts drifted to Poet, who was due to come to his house the next day, and he was surely looking forward to it.

They’d been talking on the phone a lot, and FaceTiming, too.

He loved just talking to her, getting to know her.

He’d found out so much. She was open with him now, and this made him feel more comfortable.

He couldn’t wait to see her again—it had been a whole week.

He’d practically finished her greenhouse, worked on it during the hours she was at her job.

They had a bit of a rather unusual date planned ahead, but it seemed to suit both of them just fine.

He sparked up the engine of his Ram 1500, one of many of his fleet.

She was reliable. One of his older babies.

While heading home, he realized that he needed some gasoline for his mower, and for the truck, too.

He swung into the nearest gas station and pulled up to a pump.

It was at this time that he figured out a black SUV had made some of the same turns he did.

There was no mistaking it because now, that same SUV was at the gas station.

A left at the light, a right onto Westheimer Rd…

so on and so forth. He got out of his truck, paid for his gas with his credit card, and started pouring it into his red gas container he kept in the truck bed for his lawn mower.

Once it was full, he placed it back in his truck and started to fill it up, too.

In the reflection of the metal handle, he noticed the black car pull up to the pump on the left of him, about fifteen or so feet away.

He kept on pumping his gas, humming a tune.

Letting go of the lever, he let it do its thing.

Two men got out of the car and one sort of idled, then reached for their pump, while the other walked around the side, out of view.

Kage removed a compass from his pocket—one his mama gave him that had belonged to his father.

It had a mirror finish. On the front of it, like a makeup compact, it read: Kane Austin– Leader of the pack.

He turned it just so, using it as a reflector, and caught the man looking at him from around the pillar.

While the gas kept pumping, he opened his driver’s side door, acting as if he were casually reaching for something.

“Heeey there, boy! Good to see you!” He turned on a dime and bum-rushed the man, laughing as if they were old chums while he shoved him into his truck, forcing the man’s back against the gearshift and middle console.

Kage quickly locked them inside. Inside that truck was a whole lot of hell breaking loose, and a whole lot of terror going on, too.

Kage gouged his eyes, punched his face, and elbowed him in the ears and ribs.

The guy left pumping the gas was now yelling, beating on the window, garnering unwanted attention.

Kage’s fists landed over and over on their quarry, doubling down like heavy twins playing hopscotch.

The truck began to rock as the fucker tried to fight him, then seemed to become resolved to the fact that he couldn’t win this fight, so he made a move to reach for his gun.

Kage snatched the weapon and tossed it in the back seat. “You dumb shit! You shoot that thang and everyone is gettin’ blown to kingdom come! Includin’ you!” I got gasoline residue on my hands, in this truck, and look where the fuck we’re at!” The man’s eyes grew wild as realization set in.

Kage sprung the passenger’s door open, kicked the man out onto the asphalt, then jumped down on top of him, swinging and beating his face bloody some more.

His friend tried to pull him off as folks screamed, some cheered, some videotaped the madness on their phones.

When Kage was good and satisfied, he stood to his feet, huffing and puffing, then looked over his shoulder at the bastard’s sidekick.

He, too, had a gun on his hip. Grunting, the man patted his pocket—a warning.

“That’s enough. You keep your fuckin’ hands off him, and come with me. Got someone who wants to see you.” He flashed a knife, just out of view from the crowd, but Kage didn’t miss the pointy glimmer of the weapon. Kage reared back…

And BAM!

“Auugghhh… Ahhhhh… Shit!” The man doubled over from the hard fist to his gut.

Kage snatched the handle of the blade from the man’s pocket and spun around.

Removing the fuel pump from his truck, he jumped in the vehicle and sped off.

His fists were throbbing, but he was otherwise alright.

To onlookers, it no doubt looked like a vicious fist fight—two against one.

But he knew better. It went much deeper than that.

His body was tired from working all day, but this sudden burst of adrenaline made him feel renewed.

Pulling to the side of the road, he parked in a grocery store parking lot with a view of the main road.

He grabbed the guy’s gun that he’d tossed in the back seat, shoved it in his glove compartment, and waited.

When he caught sight of the black car, he let it pass by, then began tailing them.

He lit a cigarette, cracked his window, and turned up the music.

Blues Saraceno’s, ‘Dogs of War’ played at high volume.

He blew smoke out the side of his mouth as he kept his eye on the prize.

After several minutes, he gained momentum, letting himself be known.

Blowing his horn and making fast maneuvers, he noticed the two men looking in the rearview mirror at the same time.

One of them grinned, pulled out a gun and waved it about.

Kage kept following them, but dropped a bit farther behind, creating distance between the vehicles.

Hunting them like the wolf that he was.

He darted in and out, hiding behind larger trucks, zooming fast, then slowing down at a snail’s pace.

They had to be rightfully confused. He squeezed the steering wheel; his eyes locked on the SUV in front of him.

Target identified. At one point, they veered off the beaten path, no doubt trying to shake him.

Rolling the window all the way down, the wind whipping his hair, he took out his gun. BANG!

BULLS-FUCKING-EYE. He noted the telltale sparkle of fuel trickling from the SUV’s undercarriage.

With a sneer, he let his truck fall back slightly, giving the henchmen no reason to suspect he was the cause of their grave vulnerability.

They suddenly turned on another side road, this one far bumpier than the first—the same moment that Johnny Cash’s, ‘House of the Rising Sun’ started to play.

He tossed his cigarette out of the window and stayed on their asses like a hair on an ant’s ass as they made slick maneuvers, fishtailing back and forth until they were all out in the middle of nowhere.

The sun had begun to set, leaving a subtle, soft darkness to the sky.

Suddenly, the black SUV stopped on a dime.

Came to a screeching halt. Kage slowed down and stopped, too.

The two men got out of their vehicle, guns drawn.

The driver was pretty banged up, walking with a limp after their altercation at the gas station, but still held dark determination in his eyes.

“YOU WANNA PLAY, YOU SON OF UH BITCH!” one of them yelled. “WE’LL PLAY! GET OUT THE FUCKIN’ TRUCK!”