Pick up a mop and go clean the latrines, kid, this range isn't for street trash, the range master sneered, shoving fifteen-year-old Malik Holloway away from the custom training rifle.
The afternoon sun was already sinking below the Atlanta skyline as I walked home from school. The usual rush of students had thinned, and I was cutting through the alleyway behind the old bookstore, a shortcut I always took. The air was cool, carrying the scent of damp concrete and discarded fast food.
Suddenly, a shadow fell over me.
“Hey, Holloway.”
I froze. Darius Barksdale, Marcus’s head range officer, stepped out from behind a dumpster, blocking my path. His bulky frame filled the narrow space. His usual sneer was even more pronounced, a cruel twist to his lips.
“Heard you’re still poking around,” Darius said, his voice low and menacing. “Asking questions. Talking about that… pendant.”
He took a step closer, crowding me against the brick wall. His eyes flickered down to my chest, where the lion pendant rested beneath my shirt.
“My uncle told you to stay quiet,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. My heart hammered against my ribs, echoing in my ears.
Darius laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. “Your uncle wants you to learn your place, kid. This isn’t a game. You got a little key, too, don’t you? Heard you’re looking for a safety deposit box.”
My blood ran cold. How did he know about the key? Marcus must have figured it out, or guessed.
“Give me the key, Holloway,” Darius demanded, his hand reaching for my pocket where I kept the tiny brass key. His fingers were thick, his knuckles scarred.
I instinctively flinched away, pressing myself further against the wall. “I don’t have it.”
“Don’t lie to me,” he growled, his face inches from mine. His breath smelled of stale coffee. “It’s time you understood how things work. There are some things better left buried.”
His hand shot out, grabbing my shirt, twisting the fabric. I struggled, trying to push him away, but his grip was like iron. He yanked, pulling me forward, about to shove me against the wall.
Just then, a voice, deep and calm, cut through the tense silence.
“Barksdale. Take your hands off the boy.”
Darius froze. I looked past his shoulder and saw Grizz standing at the alley entrance, a small, black sidearm held loosely at his side, pointed generally in our direction. His face was grim, unreadable.
Darius slowly released my shirt, his eyes wide with surprise and a hint of fear. He backed away a step.
“Grizz? What are you doing here?” Darius stammered, his bravado instantly gone.
“Just making sure certain… protocols are followed,” Grizz said, his eyes never leaving Darius. He glanced at me, a brief nod of reassurance. “Malik is under Aaron’s protection. You remember Aaron’s protocols, don’t you, Darius?”
Darius swallowed hard. He looked at the gun, then at Grizz’s unwavering gaze.
“Marcus hired some… muscle, Grizz,” Darius said, his voice less threatening now. “Former mercs. They’re watching the facility. He’s locking down the vault.”
Grizz’s jaw tightened. “I know. Aaron anticipated it. He put specific contingency measures in place. Armed protocols, Darius. For situations exactly like this.”
Darius’s face paled. He knew what Grizz was talking about. Aaron Holloway was thorough, meticulous. His “protocols” were legendary, and dangerous.
“You’re making a mistake, Grizz,” Darius muttered, backing further away. “This isn’t your fight.”
“It’s always been my fight,” Grizz replied, his voice firm. “Now get out of here. Before I decide to enforce Aaron’s full intent.”
Darius hesitated for another second, then spun around and stomped out of the alley, disappearing around the corner without another word.
Grizz lowered his weapon. “You okay, Malik?”
I nodded, still shaken. “Yeah. How… how did you know to come?”
“I’ve been keeping an eye on things,” he said, holstering the sidearm. “Marcus is getting desperate. He’s hired some heavy hitters, ex-military types. They’re guarding Aegis Tactical’s vault. He’s afraid you’ll find something.”
“He knows about the key,” I said, stating the obvious.
Grizz just nodded. “He suspects. Aaron didn’t trust him. He never did. That’s why he made arrangements.” He looked at me, a serious expression on his face. “We need to move quickly, Malik. Before Marcus gets to whatever your father left behind.”
The encounter left me breathless, but also with a renewed sense of urgency. Marcus was escalating, and so would we.
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