Part 29: The Bridge
Riker's Island
1225 hours
The staff didn't stand a chance. They either fled or died.
A Gangster Disciple shotcaller handed Lefty a set of keys, shaking off the blood. "You go open the doors. Let our people out. Them and the Kings. Leave the damned Aryans where they are."
"Okay," Lefty said.
He started moving down the cell block, unlocking every door he saw. More and more prisoners came out. Some were white - it couldn't be helped. They were mixed up with the rest of the population. However, anyone with a swastika or a German flag was out of luck. They died as well.
Before he knew it, he was free. The prisoners followed after him.
"Where do we go?"
"There. The bus." The shotcaller pointed to the Q100 bus.
The inmates stormed it. The shotcaller said to the driver, "Take us out of here."
"You aren't going to have trouble from me," the driver said. "Where do you want to go?"
"Anywhere but Manhattan."
Lefty got out of the front row seat and let the shotcaller have it. The shotcaller said, "Give this man a gun."
A shotgun was pressed into his hands. "If the driver says boo, shoot him."
"He ain't gonna say boo," Lefty replied. "He's going to get out of here like the rest of us."
"Don't matter. Anyone get in the way, he dies."
Cross-Bronx Expressway
1249 hours
The Lieutenant felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. "I am awake."
"Sir. Take a look at that bus behind us," said Sergeant Martinez.
"City bus?"
"Yep. That's the Riker's Island shuttle," Martinez said. "And it's full on inmates, not civilians."
"Uh, oh." He looked. "What can we do about it?"
"We can stop them, sir. We have the firepower. And it ain't right that those scum get out while women and children are stuck here."
"Martinez, how far do you think they're going to get with a City bus?" First Sergeant Stone said.
"It ain't right, Top."
The Lieutenant checked his weapon. "Lock and load, C Company! Driver, block the road.
The bus driver looked at the Lieutenant as if he were a mad man.
"For decency's sake. Or because I'll shoot you," the Lieutenant continued.
The driver pulled ahead and swerved his bus to the left.
The shotcaller said, "What the fuck?"
The driver tried to squeeze the commandeered bus around the charter bus to the left. There was not enough room. He tried backing out, but traffic was already filling the right-hand lanes. He stopped.
Lefty stepped out of the bus, ready to fire the shotgun if need be. The Lieutenant had his hands on the grip and the upper receiver of his M-16.
The Lieutenant called out "Throw out your weapons! Now! Throw them out and you can go in peace."
"Fuck him. Waste him."
Lefty fired.
***
The Lieutenant felt the blow of the shot hitting his left thigh and his groin. He fell to the ground. He tried to raise his rifle to reply. A second shot shattered his left arm. He fell backward.
"I'm bleeding to death."
He thought he heard thirty rifles open up. He thought he saw the shooter double over clutching his belly. He thought he saw rifle fire punch through the Q100's glass.
He did hear the sirens wailing.
"Thought they weren't going to do that."
Things were beginning to turn dark. His brain was running out of oxygen. Just enough...
"Thanks, Lord, for letting me jump the queue a bit... protect Joan... into Your hands I commend my --"
Heaven opened up before him.
***
Lefty clutched his torn belly. "Get me a doctor."
"Get the Lieutenant!" he heard a Guardsman cry.
"Too late. Get under what shelter you can, boys."
"It's not fair..." Lefty moaned. "It's not fair. I only wanted to live. Don't I have a right to - "
The flames of Hell opened up before him.
***
The Lieutenant's body didn't have enough oxygen around him to completely reduce him to ash; he charred, like a book thrown in the fireplace. His rifle started to cook off his unfired ammunition as metal heated and melted. Then the blast wave came and reduced him to powder. His remains fell into the East River.
He had always wanted to be buried at sea.
