Streets of New York. Mark Anthony

gun when I jumped out of the window and it was too dark to look for it, not to mention that I didn’t have the time.

      I got my wits together and I immediately hauled-ass, jumping over neighboring fences. I could tell that the cops would soon be right on my tail as I heard all kinds of commotion, yelling, tire screeching and numerous police sirens. Somehow I’d made it into an alley area. I came across an abandoned car that looked as if it had been stripped of its parts. The tires and everything were missing as the car sat only on its four axles. The abandoned car was extremely close to the ground and it didn’t look as if a human being could fit underneath the car.

      That was my only hiding spot and chance of escape. I knew I had to act quickly. I dropped to my stomach and forced myself underneath the car. I scraped my flesh in the process but that was my least worry. I squirmed to make certain that all of my body was fully underneath the abandoned car. I could barely breathe due to the weight of the car pressing down on me, which barely left room for my lungs to contract and expand and I began hyperventilating due to nervousness.

      It was a hot and humid summer night and I was sweating my balls off! Suddenly I heard and saw footsteps... I could only look one way because there was absolutely no room for my head to fully turn. I tried to force myself not to breathe but I was so out of breath from running and the pressure of the car on top of me forced me to breathe real heavy. I was afraid that the cops might hear.

      “I know that black bastard is out here somewhere,” one said.

      My heart continued to pound into the pavement. I saw at least six sets of feet and I knew that there had to be more cops but I just couldn’t see them all. Then things just got real quiet. And I saw the six sets of feet briskly walking off.

      “Just chill right here Promise,” I told myself as I wondered if the cops seen me and were they just frontin’ like they were walking away in order to bait me out of my hiding spot? I didn’t know but I did know that it didn’t make any sense to take a chance of coming out, so I just laid face down on the ground and tried to calm down. Then I saw more feet.

      “Hot-damn!” I hissed to myself.

      “Who got hit?” one cop asked another.

      “Schwartz got hit and so did the bitch! She took one in the neck and Schwartz got hit on the wrist.”

      “Anybody else?”

      “That’s all we got so far but it could be more. I bet you even money that bitch fucked up the raid! This job ain’t meant for no woman!”

      From what I could make out, the cops had to be talking about their co-workers.

      “No way! We can’t just blame it on her because she’s a woman... It’s that fuckin’ criminal bastard! Can you believe the balls on that cocksucker? If I see his ass out here I’m blasting him! I don’t give a shit if he’s armed or not. Shit, call Al Sharpton, call Jesse, I don’t care. I’ll shoot that bastard in the back of his head if I see him!”

      “I’m with you on that... And I didn’t see anything when the DA questions me.”

      That was exactly why I didn’t care about bustin’ a cop. It’s like they got their own little gang or something. I couldn’t believe how they were talking.

      As I continued to lay on the ground the entire area around me became bright as daylight. The sound of a helicopter hovered above and it must have been shining its searchlight down on the ground.

      “Just relax, they don’t know where you at,” I told myself.

      I lay on that ground for hours. The sun had come up and I was still on the ground underneath the abandoned car. It had to have been at least five hours since I’d made it underneath the car and cops were still mulling around checking for me and checking for clues. I had been smoking weed and drinking Hennessy all night long up until the cops had showed up. I had never made it to the goddamn bathroom and I had to shit and piss like a muthafucka!

      There was no way that I was gonna take a chance and come out, but I literally couldn’t hold it no more. So right there on the ground, I straight pissed in my pants. All that Hennessy was coming out of me by the gallon!

      My stomach and my legs and my crotch got warm as hell from the hot piss, but I had to do what I had to do. I just was hoping that the piss wouldn’t start to roll from underneath the car. But I felt confident that my clothes would absorb it all. Pissing solved one problem, but I still had to take a shit. I was ready to shit in my pants just to get some relief, but couldn’t take the chance on the smell possibly giving me away. So I clenched up my butt cheeks and held on for as long as I could.

      As I lay there scraped up, marinating in my own piss and in pain, I got more vexed. “That nigga Squeeze, had to have tipped off the cops!” I convinced myself. I was coming to that conclusion because I just found it too much of a coincidence that right after I had visited The Brooklyn Cafe and Squeeze was acting all shady, that’s when the cops show up? Come on! Any nigga wit’ common sense could put that together and know what was up. But the thing I couldn’t figure out was why would the nigga do me so dirty? I had been his man for life! And I always had the nigga’s back, no matter what.

      Maybe him and Show was seeing some major figures and he didn’t wanna split none of it wit’ me? If that was the case, cool... I would have been like whateva. If the nigga ratted me out, then he is beyond foul! Niggas don’t do they mans like that! Word!

      More hours passed by and I was still face down on the ground smelling like piss. I had endured an entire day underneath the car, a day of intense summer heat and humidity. And on a number of times I felt like I was gonna pass out or have a stroke from the heat. Nighttime had rolled back around.

      The shit that I had to take from earlier in the day managed to creep back up on me. Soon it would be a total of twenty four hours since I’d been underneath the car but my freedom was at stake so I still wasn’t confident that I could come out from underneath the car. Yet, I couldn’t hold it anymore. So right there I shat on myself and since I don’t know how to shit without pissing so I pissed again too. This was the absolute lowest point in my life bar none!

      As I lay there in my own shit, I completely convinced myself that Squeeze had ratted me out. What pissed me off even more was that I wouldn’t have been on the run and dealing with all this if the mu’fuckin’ rat bastard, Squeeze, hadn’t called me and begged my ass to ride with them when they were rolling on Nine and his crew that night! I vowed that if I made it up out of this present situation without getting bagged, that I was gonna go all out and get back at Squeeze and his punk ass! Even if I had to murk that fool, I was willing!

      I was certain that he had gotten Marissa’s license plate or something when he walked us out of the club that night. That had to be how the cops rolled on me. How else would they have known where I was resting?

      About two more hours passed and I just couldn’t take it anymore. If the cops were still staking out the area that I was in, then I would just have to take the loss. I was ready to come out. There was no easy way for me to get from underneath the car. In fact it seemed like it was harder for me to get from underneath than it had been for me to originally get under it. I finally managed to free myself.

      As I stood up and brushed myself off, I felt very lightheaded and mad nervous. My wrists, arms, and chin were scraped up from the concrete and I smelled worst than a street bum in Times Square. Dogs were barking and I wanted to get out of that location as soon as possible so that I could take off my pants and get out of my underwear, which had been violated with feces.

      I wouldn’t leave any evidence lying around. I knew I had to keep on my underwear and just troop it. My pants were sagging real low and it wasn’t because I was trying to be stylish, it was because of the crap that was in my underwear! I couldn’t walk fast as I had to walk real gingerly.

      I had no money and I knew that I definitely couldn’t take a chance on calling or going back to Marissa’s house. I figured every cop in the city