Prelude1
A seemingly normal night, except that it is the eve of Christmas eve and everyone is out for their last minute things. What should be a joyous occiasion will suddenly turn into a night no one involved will ever forget. 2
December 23, 2007 at 8:04pm in the newly built shopping mall in the small town of Wakefield, Massachusetts. Light snow falling accenting the holiday lights. There was close to 30,000 people all doing their last minute Christmas shopping all crammed in this vast expanse of retail glory. Over 300 stores selling everything from clothes and shoes to exotic pets. Over one million dollars would be spent tonight alone in this shopping Mecca on the outside of this small New England community. People from all walks of life enter through these doors to spend hard earned money before leaving with their packages. This single moment in time would shatter the lives of hundreds, maybe thousands of shoppers. Images that would haunt their nightmares for years to come.Chapter 13
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Trevor awoke before the sun had risen. Not that he would know, his bedroom window looked out at a brick wall. He showered and fed his little brother and sister. Then when his Mama came home he went out with his friends. They took the metro to Wal Mart. It took awhile but they had managed to shoplift a hat, hoodie and pants for Trevor's big night. They had a few dollars so went to Burger King. While eating outside while waiting for the bus they quietly went over the mission again. Trevor knew the plan backwards and forwards. His life was about to change tonight. All his dreams would come true. He was going to have status, and status was all that mattered where he comes from. He went home and showered, dressed and waited anxiously for his big night.
At 7:49pm Thirteen year old Trevor James walked through the lightly snow covered parking lot to entering the mall on a mission. He had walked this way for three days in a row. Rehearsing and practicing his walk in and his way out. Everything was going to be perfect. Having been dropped off a half mile away with his orders clear in his head. He shivered a little but not from nerves, just the cold New England air. Snow snow blew up into his face he did not even flinch. Wearing his new red hoodie, baggie jeans and red hat all boosted earlier in the day from Wal Mart. He was not here tonight to find presents for his Mama or his little brother and sister. His mission tonight was more important to him than those that loved him. While most kids in the world his age dream of becoming professional athelites he had bigger dreams. He was going to earn his spots tonight. If he succeeded today he would be on the team he has lived his entire life to be on. Tonight he would prove he was worthy of becoming a BLOOD! The toughest street gang in Boston. 'GKB - Gangsta Killa Blood". This meant status where he came from. No one would ever dare look down on him ever again. Never has he belonged to anything. Ever since he was a child he looked up to the boys that ran the streets of the Boston neighborhood he grew up in. They teased him and sometimes beat him up but he idolized them. They ran things where he lived. No one ever crossed them or they would pay the price. When he was younger they would let him deliver packages for them and bring back envelopes. Sometimes they would give him a few dollars for candy or ice cream. There was no computer or television in his home. He knew little of sports stars and video games. Most boys his age lived the same way. Mama worked 2 to 3 jobs to keep them fed and the teachers in school did not care if he was struggling to learn let alone read. Once he was in he could afford to help his Mama his brother and sister. Soon they would have all the things they could never afford.
Trevor never met his father, he was doing life for a double murder committed during a robbery. Daddy never wrote because like Trevor he could barely read let alone write. They did not have a telephone and mama said she did not want him to go to prison to visit. Trevor could care less about him but in ways he strived to be like him. His brother and sister had different father's he thinks, not really sure as he has never met them either.
This life was all Trevor had ever known, like suicide bombers in the middle east becoming Blood was the natural order of life in his hood. "Blood in, Blood out" 5
Fighting the crowd, focused on his mission. Trevor was excited about finally earning his spots. Three burn marks on his right arm to forever signify that he belonged. His flag would be placed on his head and all the other Blood's would beat him down for three minutes. Then he would take the oath and become one of them. "Blood in, Blood out" He would live the rest of his life by this creed. He has dreamed about this for years, even the beat down, with excitement. He must not fail. His mission was to enter this mall and let everyone know it was now Blood territory. Whatever he did, he must make a bold statement before he left.6
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Chapter 2Nineteen year old Melissa Culbertson woke up to a phone call and not her 3 year old twins. When ever the phone rang this early she worried, her husband was a Sergeant in the US Army, she got word his unit had left Iraq and would be home Christmas morning. "Oh my god" she said excitedly. So much to do to get ready. They were going to wait until he got home to celebrate Christmas but now she had less than 2 days to prepare for his arrival. No easy task while taking care of twin three year old boys. Between enternaining the boys and cleaning Melissa found time to decorate the tiny home they lived in on base. Gone food shopping and finally late in the evening she packed up the boys for a trip to the mall.
The twins were overtired and she had shopped to long so she wanted to get them to eat something to settle their active minds. She was in the food court trying hard to get her three year old twins to eat something so she could finish shopping. It was hard taking care of twins as well as getting ready for the holidays all by herself. They went to the food court and then had to look for fifteen minutes just to get a table.
Just as she got them settled down enough to start eating she heard a scream right next to her table and saw a boy in a blue sweatshirt stumbling by her and the twins with blood coming from his neck. Another boy about the same age behind him wearing a red hooded sweatshirt holding a bloody knife. The boy wearing red then turned and in his other hand he held a gun. He fired shots at 2 other boys wearing blue sweat shirts. Melissa watched in horror while holding her babies tight as both boys fell to the ground as well as a teenage girl. Under the table she crawled trying to protect her babies, as her twins screamed and cried from the commotion around them. 8
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Chapter 3Thirty Eight year old George Samuelson was looking for the perfect gift for his wife of fifteen years. George was a hard worker, he managed a small accounting firm. They were small but had a few lagre corporations thanks to George's persistance and hard work landing those accounts. His family life was good, he loved his wife more now than when they first met and had a wonderful son. George was a die hard Boston Red Sox fan and had been to many a game at Fenway Park. 10
Tired and exhausted from working all day and now fighting the crowd he stopped in the food court to grab an iced coffee. Wearing his suit but had long lost the tie for the day he grabbed his coffee from the nice girl behind the counter and told her to keep the change. He hated his job but it proved a very good income for his wife and twelve year old son. He believed that even though he was miserable as long as they were happy he would keep doing it. A boy about the age of his son wearing a red hooded sweatshirt almost knocked him over trying to get by him. "Fucking kids nowadays, have no respect" mumbled George. Behind him people were screaming as he turned to see what was going on he heard gun shots and saw 2 boys in blue sweatshirts one fell to the ground the other fell over a table and a couple having dinner. He suddenly felt a burning sensation in his abdomen. Looking down he saw blood coming from his shirt, next thing he knew he was falling to the ground and everything went dark. 11
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Chapter 4Fourteen year old Amanda Dunn was so glad for school to be over until after New Years and she had just finished shopping and teasing boys at the mall with her friends. They had spent the entire day at the mall. Fashion and boys were her only worries in life. She also thought Jason Varitek from the Boston Red Sox was soo cute. Wearing a little tight white skirt and pink tank top she was having fun teasing the boys at the mall. Her mom was going to let her go on her first real date during the holiday break. Her mom was going to pick her up in ten minutes so she ran to the bathroom. Fighting the crowd in the food court she was approached by 3 boys her age wearing blue sweatshirts. The largest one said to her "I want some of this". she tried to step around them but the other 2 boys moved to block her way. Scared she looked around for security but knew all they ever did was hang out on the first floor looking up under the railings. Perverts just wanted to look up skirts and see what color panties the girls were wearing. Suddenly out of the corner of her eye she saw a boy in a red hoodie reach out towards one of the boys blocking her. Blood squirted all over her shirt. She screamed in horror, not knowing exactly what just happened. She saw the boy in red waiving a gun as she fell to the floor.13
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Chapter 5 Mr. Smith was born and lived his entire life as a just another speck in the working middle class of American society. He married a New Yorker of Puerto Rican descent, not out of a white liberal fascination with minorities- he was quite conservative by then, having left his youthful radical days long in the past- but because she was, although opposite in almost every other way, also from a broken home- one connection that outweighed all of their many obvious and stressful differences. He could not look down upon her chauvinistically just because he was a white male and she was a female minority- he barely had two years of college and she had earned a double Masters in Education already, having taken night classes, and he had great respect for that. She taught grade school in the inner city while he was ex-military and working two jobs, one teaching industrial at the suburban community college, and the other as an electronics tech monitoring air pollution in the rural farm fields around the refinery. She still earned twice as much as he did, a point of pride he allowed her to flaunt at every family gathering… He and his wife were close enough to the bottom class of society not to harbor any romantic illusions or apologetic notions about the criminal mindset of ghetto life- abusers of freedom were abusers of freedom, no matter who they were, what their age, or what social class they came from, and no matter if that point is currently lost a clueless, media-diluted generation. Both of their kids were in college now, and on this day Mr. Smith was at the mall indulging his daughter at her favorite Japanese fast food restaurant. That is when the tragic and fatal commotion began… A young girl in sexual self-discovery mode was being confronted by three, self-appointed mall bad boys when a deadly rival came up on the side of them, on his own daring, gang-points accumulating adventure… Mr. Smith was slow to react to just about everything, for nothing much phased him in life anymore; his daughter, however, immediately bolted into the adjacent Hot Topics in a mad dash of primeval self-preservation. It was in that instant that Mr. Smith locked eyes with the young girl, who was right in the center of the soon-to-be-deadly event. As her eyes froze on his for that split second, he saw the frantic pleading, the apology, the guilt, and the help-me forgiveness-seeking flash across her panic-dilated pupils before she instinctively fell limp and backwards to the floor. The next eyes that Mr. Smith's caught were from the three young hoods in blue. The first obviously had the lowest IQ of the three, a born follower. Such people, Mr. Smith knew, expected to be passed over; in fact, they disrespected anyone who gave them direct attention. Mr. Smith did not waste any more precious time on him, scanning for the leader- get the leader, and the followers will follow… Mr. Smith’s eyes then locked into those of a second young gangster just as the knife splayed into his muscular neck, flaying open his juggler in a gurgling, crimson fountain of life. From the hazed youth’s eyes he caught a flash of wonder and curiosity- that there could be such a man as Mr. Smith peering into his life; that, if he only had a father like that, what life would have been like… suburbs, bowling on the lawns of Ivy League colleges; soft, rich, well-bred girls in tight, pastel sweaters swooning over him and his gang-won street-smarts… the youth carried these images with him as he plummeted in slow-motion to the dark crypt of the mall tiles below… The eyes of Mr. Smith next caught the third Crip member- for he now recognized what was transpiring- he knew about the Bloods and Crips from his wife’s seminars, from working in the city himself, from where his wife worked and where his daughter went to school. His wife had received gang identification training just a month earlier, which he gleaned in their passing conversations, part of the special training inner-city teachers receive. She said that she had since recognized many of the signs on her kindergartener’s “parents”, and watched for signs on the kids, where she would attempt to advise them before it was too late… in one short, fleeting moment, Mr. Smith and the young inner-city thug shared an unfortunate insight- that this was the last moment of life for one or both of them on this earth, and that there was nothing either of them could do about it. In a last show of human feeling, he saw the young gang member’s eyes shoot a look of, “Get yourself out of here, you stupid, somehow street-respectable honky from the burbs” before his eyes bulged as his skull exploded in a glittering, surreal show of flying grays and spattering loops of shiny, liquid reds… Mr. Smith’s eyes finally sparred with the eyes of the Blood member and quickly recognized the gang-hopeful's two weapons of status- long, bloody switchblade and a terribly maintained .38 special. Each person, as alien to each other as if they were from different planets, pierced the other for a long, cold second, sizing each other up, looking for signs respectability, despicability, looking for character flaws to kill over- Mr. Smith could clearly see the young city hood gauging how much street respect his gang would give this specter of a white man standing there, unflinching, as if he’d seen this a hundred times and knew what was about to transpire; the young hood gauged the white man's body language, apparel, hair style, facial expression, choice of spectacles- anything issuing a statement that called for good-old, self-satisfying ghetto justice, the youth having the means and little to lose, and if fact much to brag about later- such an act being heroic in a twisted way in gang eyes- having personally rid the world of one selfish dreg who preyed on others and made life miserable for everyone around him… What the young felon's final judgment was Mr. Smith never found out, for the youth’s attention had been diverted by the motion of a young girl and a man ducking under a table. Apparently enraged by the man’s outrageous demeanor, the Blood fired a shot right through the guy’s forehead, a seemingly and strangely welcoming, thankful forehead that bounced once as it hit the ground then settled in a wide-eyed sleep… Then in an instant it was over- for quite unexpectedly the not-yet-shaving gangster fell to his knees and dropped his firearm, perhaps shot by a still-lurking Crip or an undercover officer, perhaps in surprise and shock, perhaps in a sudden realization that a higher calling had just been served, and that he had just made his endgame move, which turned out to be the case- the child turned out to be his younger innocent sister, which is why she caught his eye, and the man, an Internet child predator… As nothing new transpired for the next several seconds, everyone realized that it was over. To the eyes of Mr. Smith, it was yet another tragic event from a culture that places too much emphasis on street smarts, and not enough on academic… Mr. Smith’s daughter peered, then dashed out from the store, white as a sheet, trembling, screaming at her father, beating on him and ready to murder him herself for not showing enough concern for his own self-preservation… Chapter 6 - Merosa, the 18 year old girl, newly becoming an adult, or so they all said. She was late out again, as every year, this time she forgot about her little brother. She wanted to give him something extra, but in all the Christmas stress she had forgot all about him. She looked around from shop to shop when she heard screaming, she stopped up in fear, then she heard the most afoul sound, a gun firing, twice. Her blood ran cold and she started sweating as panic tried to take over her senses. She wouldn't let that happen, not now! She had to get out of here, and that fast. As She ran around trying to find an exit she spotted the shooter, in shock she realized it was only a child, at the same age of her brother. This was a nightmare, it couldn't be true, this small boy, a murderer? No, she couldn't believe it! Starting to think of her own brother, she couldn't picture him as a murderer. This was wrong, so wrong! Standing in the crown, shivering of fear and fighting the panic she watched the horror in front of her. This just couldn't be. Chapter 7 Mrs. Jamison Hewitt, III is absolutely fuming with indignation. Her bastard of a husband (quite a bit older than her) has thought of some last minute stuff for a Xmas party they are planning. The party planners aren't available until tomorrow and she must mingle with this unruly mob herself to please the old coot who wants her personal touch. To top it off, her rendezvous with her younger lover is now probably ruined as she'll never get in and out of this crowd in time to meet him. To take the edge off, she opens her purse to pop another xanex (forgetting to close it). When she next needs to open her purse, her money is missing (I'd up the $300 ante~(she has oodles of credit cards but this is the last straw), she sees a robo cop (security guard) and intends to make him feel her righteous wrath. Let her get caught up in the melee, perhaps getting pushed over the rail and breaking her fool neck. You could even add a touch about her pearl or diamond necklace breaking sending gems rolling everywhere. Had she known, (gold digger that she is) would the money have mattered so much? Chapter 8Seventeen year old Josie Gonzalez was exhausted. Dropped out of school to help support her family she had started working at Dunkin Donuts in the mall. Taking all the hours she could, the last month she had been working open to close everyday. Nine in the morning until eleven at night. No time for friends let alone a boyfriend. She did have a crush on her manager, he was the first guy to treat her nice but her family would kill her if she ever dated a white man. She did really like him and thought about him a lot. He was always telling her jokes to make her smile. She woke up that morning after only 3 hours sleep, tired and cranky. Quickly made herself something to eat and helped her mother get her younger sister ready for church. She had to take 2 different Metro's to get to the mall but thankfully because of finiancial aid she rode for free. She arrived at the mall before David her manager and waited for him to show up and open the gates seperating her from the quiet and another day of hell. Waiting on customers that were rude and nasty all day while fighting to keep a smile on her tired face was no easy task. She had just made an iced coffee for a nice man, wearing a suit and looking tired from a long day, at least one of the few friendly faces she had seen all day. His order was $3.25 and her handed her a five dollar bill and told her to keep the change. Her first tip of the week made her feel a little better even if it was only $1.75. She was wiping the counter when she heard a scream and saw a younger girl, wearing a white skirt and pink top, and the same man falling to the floor. Looking straight at her was a boy wearing a red hoodie pointing a gun right at her. She dove under the counter grabbing her manager and pulling him down with her. 15
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Chapter 9 17
Jackson Bennett and Erin Finigean had met online. He was 42 and she was 37. Both divorced but neither was bitter about it. Jackson worked in a local mill and Erin was a nurse at Boston General Hospitial. They had talked for weeks and finally agreed to meet for dinner and maybe a late movie at the mall. Both were going out of town until after New Years so it would be good to meet once before Christmas. They talked about how much they had in common and tyoes of music they each liked. They were enjoying their chinese food and some casual conversation when they heard screaming and gun shots. Suddenly a young teenage boy in a boy sweatshirt fell over their table sending food flying everywhere. 18
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Chapter 10 20
Thirteen year old Saquan Boyd was on a mission as well today. He slept in today because he was out all night trying to sell some stolen jewelry he boosted the night before. Waking up around one o'clock in the afternoon he showered and left before his Aunt came home. He went out of his way to avoid her. He had been a member of the CRIPS since he was eleven. Raised by his Aunt who only gave him attention when she was strung out and needed a fix or just someone to hit, both his mother and father were in jail on and off for different drug or prostitution charges. He was not even sure that was his real father anyway. No one cared about what happened to him and would often be gone for days at a time. School sucked so he had not gone in over a year. He could make more money on the streets anyway. His boyz and him were gonna go harass the white bitches at the mall and maybe score some weed if the could boost enough cash off the rich bitches that leave their pocketbooks open. Chillin with T Bone and D Rock his homies they had so far made $300.00 for their efforts today. Time to go party but this cute little white bitch caught his eye. Wearing her little tank-top and tight skirt he walked up to her and told her he would love some of that. She tried to walk around them like they did not exist. She looked at him and screamed as he felt something running down his neck, he was getting light headed and started to stumble past some bitch and her screaming kids as he was driven forward by something going in his back.21
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Chapter 11 23
Twenty five year old David Sheppard was the manager of Dunkin Donuts, very hard working and had a crush on one of his employees. She was a sweet girl that has had a hard life. He felt bad for her at times because he had it pretty good growing up. His parents could not afford college but he was working at dunkin to help pay for a few college courses a year. He hoped to graduate this spring with honors. He hoped to one day get up the courage to ask Josie out on a date. He woke up a little late for work and when he arrived Josie was already waiting for him to open. Her smile brightened his day. The day was very busy for both. They were short handed and he volunteered to stay until closing. Mostly he had wanted to be around Josie no matter what. He was helping Josie wipe the counter after her last customer spilled a little of his iced coffee. He told her a joke to make her smile and was just about to get up the nerve to ask her to dinner but she was looking in horror at something in front of her. She dove at him and knocked him to the floor as he heard screams and then gunshots. 24
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Chapter 12Deshawn Thomas had come to the mall with his homies T Bone and Sakuan. They followed Sakuan where ever he wanted to go. He was going to get them in the CRIPS soon. They were in training so to speak. They have lifted $300.00 for some bitches pocketbook and were getting ready to go party. Deshawn had it pretty good compard to most of his friends. Both his parents lived together even though they were not married and loved him dearly. his older brother died in a drive by shooting last year. A BLOOD did the shooting and never went to jail for it. He wanted to become a CRIP and give pay back to the SLOB (derogitory term for Blood). Thirteen and mind set on vengance. Saquan saw this pretty white girl and motioned for them to follow his lead. While Saquan was hitting on this little bitch Deshawn and T Bone kept moving to block her path. Deshawn saw the security guard coming towards them when he heard the scream for the little white girl. He looked over and saw blood spraying all over her from Saquan's neck and saw him stumbling away. It was too late when he saw the boy in the red hoodie pointing the gun at him. He never heard the shot being fired as his hands went to his chest and he fell backwards. He was dead before he hit the ground. 26
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Chapter 13Tyshawn Burnett aka T bone was fourteen and what most people would called developmentally disabled. He lived with a slight twitch and was never good in school. His mom smoked crack cocaine through out her pregnancy with him. He had been friends with Deshawn and Sakuan as long as he could remember. He had wanted to join the CRIPS but they would not have him. Saquan told him if he keeps running errands and hanging out they will let him in someday. He looked up to the younger boy because he was smarter. They were getting ready to leave the mall when Saquan motioned for D Rock and himself to block the way of this chick. She was cute and whatever way she went to get around them he blocked it. He saw the Boy in the red hoodie aproaching but due to his condition he could not process the danger until Saquan was already on the ground with blood coming out of his neck and back. He watched as D Rock was shot in the back and started to run. He never felt the bullts going in to the back of his head as he fell over a table spilling chinese food all over a young couple on a date. 28
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Chapter 14 30
Joe Blando was working mall security on the second floor. Twenty one years old and working his way through college. He hated this job because the older security guards would all hang out on the first floor looking up skirts while he followed procedure and told kids not to hang on the railings and especially no eating or drinking by the rail. Just broke up with his girlfriend of 4 years, she met a rich guy from Harvard and decided she wanted more out of life when he gave her a gold bracelet on their second date. He observed 3 teenage boys in blue sweatshirts harassing a young girl in a white skirt and pink top. As he started to approach them another teen wearing a red sweatshirt approached the group when he saw the boy in red pull a knife out from under his hoodie. Before he could even use his radio one of the boys in blue was spurting blood from his neck and being stabbed in the back by the young man wearing red. He screamed in his radio for backup and 911. The boy in red started firing shots at the other boys, he saw them fall to the ground along with the pretty girl. The gun was now pointed right at him as he rushed towards the boy in red. A older man wearing a suit fell into Joe knocking him to the ground as more shots were fired.31
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Chapter 15 33
Amy was not your typical eleven year old girl. She had no interest in Hannah Montana or whatever the newest fad was. She was what people call a child prodigy. Finished High School last June and had already completed her second semester at Boston College. Born in a rough part of Boston, her mother worked several jobs to put food o the table. They had no television at home so she used the computer at school for everything. She preferred jeans and a t shirt over skirts and makeup. She did like boys and was there to meet one she met on line. His name was Jeffery and even though he was thirty two years old he was the only adult that ever treated her nice. Everyone else talked about how special she was, how smart she was. Jeffery was different he treated her like a girl. He was what people would consider a nerd just like her. He told her how unsure he was about dating someone so young but she assured him she would never tell anyone. She had seen his picture many times and looked through the crowd to find him. She heard shots and screams on the far side of the food court when a man grabbed her arm. Startled she jumped back for a second until she realized it was Jeffery. Smiling her jumped up and hugged him. He smiled back and kissed her cheek. Both forgetting for a second about the chaos on the other side of the food court. Suddenly cold steel clamped around his wrists as 2 under cover agents handcuffed Jeffery. Two other agents were running towards the other scene unfolding in front of them when a teenage boy wearing a red hooded sweatshirt came running by. Neither noticed the gun in his hand until after he had passed them. One of the arresting agents yelled drop the gun when a shot was fired. Jeffery never saw it coming as the bullet passed through the middle of his forehead. 34
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Chapter 16Agent Downs was a 33 year old divorced man now working for the Internet crimes unit for the FBI in Boston. His dedication to his job ruined his marriage. Worked his way up the ranks and tried very hard to get assigned to this unit. His sister was molested by a stranger when he was young and he wanted to do whatever he could to prevent this from happening to someone else. They had been watching Jeffery Summer's for 6 months now. Twice Summer's had made arrangements to meet a young girl at different public locations but either chickened out or felt we were there. Now we had him. handcuffed and reading him his rights when shots were fired across the food court. Two of my agents rushed to find out what was going on when I heard a shot fired behind me. Jeffery had a hole in his head and was falling forward to the ground when I turned and saw a teenage boy crying on his knees with a gun in front of him. I knew this was bad but a part of me was happy he was dead. No chance for him to get free because of a shady court system now.36
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Chapter 17Jeffery Summer's was what many believe to be scum of the earth. Attracted to young girls. Thirty two year old divorced male that filled vending machines for a living. He had never acted out or done anything with them but had a collection of inapropraite pictures at home and had almost twice gone to meet young girls. Today was the day he was going to finally meet one, her name was Amy. A cute eleven year old girl from Boston. She was already in college and he had to have her. He saw her standing no more than ten feet away from him and went over to grab her arm. When she jumped in his arms and as he kissed her cheek he felt the handcuffs already being applied to his wrists. He knew at the moment his life was over and he wished he was dead. He barely heard the agent reading him his rights when the bullet passed through his brain. The last thing he saw was Amy hugging a young boy in a red sweatshirt. 38
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Chapter 18Trevor was approaching the food court when he heard the shots turning to run away he saw a man hugging his sister. She was the only one in the family that had a chance to be something. Then he saw FBI agents handcuffing this man and realized what the man was about to do. Without thinking he turned and fired one shot at the man that was about to hurt his baby sister and watched him fall to the ground. Falling to his knees hugging Amy, Trevor cried for the first time he could remember. Gone were dreams of being gangster, running the streets. He had just killed a man that wanted to harm Amy, the only person that really mattered to him. At the other end of the food court lay three boys all dead from gun or knife wounds, all wearing blood stained blue sweatshirts. An older man lay wounded maybe critically and a young girl luckly had just fainted. 40
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Chapter 19In the parking lot lay a twelve year old boy in a red sweat shirt, a friend of Trevor's that was sent on the same mission as him, he just got there 2 minutes earlier than Trevor and carried out the mission. He would not get his spots or flag today and neither would Trevor. The courts would decide what to do with Trevor, but the community that failed him his entire life now hailed him as a hero for getting one piece of garbage off their streets. Killing and drugs are a way of life in the part of the city where they live, people that harm children commit a worse crime than that and on the streets they must pay with their life.42
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