Peanut’s monologue came to an abrupt end as male voices began to echo in the warehouse. He flattened out against the wall and held his breath waiting for someone to find him. An excruciating few minutes of silence was suddenly broken by the unmistakable sound of a fist striking flesh and a sharp cry.
“Well; that ain’t the police.” Not that the physical violence ruled them out but if it was the police then they weren’t looking for him and they damn sure weren’t looking for an audience. The office he was in had a window that allowed the person inside to watch the workers. Peanut scrambled to his knees to peek out over the desk. Two men dragged a middle-aged man into the center of a group of young men wearing gang colors then forced the man onto his knees. This was to be an execution, an initiation into the gang.
“An’ the shit just gets deeper.” Peanut muttered while watching helplessly as the man pled for his life. “Can’t just sit here and do nothing.” The phone on the desk was dead but he punched in 911 and left it off the hook just in case it connected anyway and tried to think of what to do next. “People come for fires right? Okay den we make a fire!”