YARAK, INC.
We Make Your Problems Go Away
The van slowed and turned into the Gum Wall alleyway.
Randy froze where he stood.
A minute later, the night was ripped open by rapid gunfire punctuated by several heavy booms and the snapping staccato beat of semiautomatic rifle fire. Orange flashes from weapons lit up the dark walls.
Then the van reappeared, backing out of the alley at a speed too fast to be safe.
Randy began to run. As he did, he ripped away the plastic bag and left it behind him on the sidewalk.
—
Randy ran untilhis lungs ached. Two blocks at most. He heard an engine racing behind him in the street, coming his direction.
He didn’t need to look over his shoulder to determine it was the Yarak van.
Randy ducked into the lit alcove of a FedEx Kinko’s. Although there were two employees inside behind the counter, the front door was locked. Randy rattled it and pounded on the glass to get their attention. A young Asian employee in a FedEx polo glanced up and their eyes met. The employee shook his head.
“Let me in!” Randy hollered. His voice was hoarse from running.
He saw the FedEx staffer silently admonish his colleague to stay where he was and not open the door.
“Damn it,” Randy said as he hit the glass hard with the heel of his hand. It did no good.
Randy tried another door of a darkened shoe store. Also locked.
Suddenly, the van raced up behind him and turned so its nose blocked the sidewalk. A beat later, the back doors blew open and there stood the huge Black man he’d seen earlier. The man hopped down to the pavement.
“Randy Daniels,” the man said, his mass of dreads swinging from side to side as he approached.
“How do you—” Randy began to ask as the man reached out and grabbed him by his collar. He was strong, and Randy was tossed without effort into the back of the van.
With the doors slammed shut, Randy recovered to his hands and knees. He was in the middle of the vehicle surrounded on both sides by empty wire cages. Just like Axel’s van—except without the live birds.
The Black man threw himself into the cab and roared away,knocking Randy back against the back doors because of the momentum.
“How do you know me?” he called out at the driver.
The man didn’t respond. He was driving fast, and Randy could feel the van fishtail as it took a corner.
That’s when he realized he wasn’t alone on the floor of the vehicle. A large body was propped into a sitting position against the back of the passenger seat, legs splayed. The victim was white with a blond ponytail cascading over his shoulder. He had a cruel face, Randy thought. The front of the man’s jacket was black with blood, and Randy could smell it.
The man moaned. He was alive. Bleeding out, but alive.
The driver braked hard in front of a brightly lit storefront. Randy could see a glowing sign through the window of the side panel:
EMERGICARE
The driver turned in his seat and his eyes fixed on Randy.
“We’re gonna carry him inside to get him patched up,” he said. As the driver talked, he opened his parka and slid a stubby weapon of some kind into a sleeve under his arm.
“Then you and me are going to have a long talk. And don’t try to run again or I’ll light you up.”
FRIDAY,