Week 11 Story: The Vigilante
A Flintstone Knife ( Wikimedia ) October 15th, 1973 It was a cold and dreary night. The wind bit at my nose. The flooded street seeped into my shoes as I walked down 5th Avenue towards El Agujero. I had been tracking the Sola gang for 6 months. They're operations sprawled across the city. Drugs, prostitution, trafficking. If it was somebody's vice, the Sola gang provided it. They didn't care who or what tried to stop them. Nobody ever did. Nobody ever stayed alive long enough. I thought I was different. We all do, don't we? Most people tried to take out the Solas gun blazing. They figured if they could take out the head, the body would wither. Nobody ever took out the head. Cops figured they could make it under cover. A total of three tried. The first made it 3 months before his head showed up at his kid's birthday party. The next lasted 1 month. His arms were safely delivered to his aging mother. The final idiot lasted a whole 3 days. His corpse was found sitting ...