"Cabron" Narrative Short Story (Crime Thriller)

 “Hurry up, man!” muttered a young man in a hushed tone. “I’m trying, give me a break will ya?” came a reply. Two young latino teenagers babbled in a neighbourhood back-alley, while one of them made haste to spray a fresh can of paint to cover up the graffiti work of someone else. 

They were then caught by surprise as a mysterious muscle car slowly creeped up into the same back-alley they were in, continuously revving its engine. The rumble of the muscle car’s V8 engine sent shivers down the boys' spines. “Let’s not get caught in this, hermano,” one beckoned to the other, gesturing for him to make haste away from the area.

The smell of burnt rubber and sound of tyre screeching stirred up the neighbourhood back-alley, as the mysterious car chased the two teenagers deeper into multiple alleyways. As they ran away and split up, one of them found himself being chased for an hour as he dashed out onto a public street, eventually realizing that the driver and the people sitting inside were rival gang members. As the car aggressively drove up onto a curb, it managed to stop one the escapee in his path dead on.

With his heart racing faster by the second, it gradually led him into a state of panic. The teen’s fear was then overcome with resentment as he pointed his middle finger towards the driver, before attempting one last desperate move as he vaulted over the car, and ran into the nearest numerous back-alleys in the poverty stricken neighbourhood. 

The situation unfolded as one of the teens was also affiliated with a gang of their own.

“There, they’re right there.” as the teen struggled to catch his breath whilst he whimpered. He then pointed into the direction of the rival gang members that approached them. As the rival gang members in the car slowly pull up opposite of the street where the teen’s elders stood, “What are you doing in my hood, holmes?” hissed the elder in a vicious tone. As one of the teen’s gang members whispered in a soft tone to the elder, “Let’s light these fools up man,” the situation immediately escalated as tension intensified, with both gangs intimidating each other. 

As a possibility of a full-blown shootout came to near reality, a heedless caretaker led a group of kids that crossed the street in the midst of the conflict between the two gangs that nearly had their weapons pulled out. As push came to shove, a shootout would have been deemed ripe along with the possibility of innocent casualties. When the caretaker nonchalantly took the kids across the street in a slow manner sandwiched between the two gangs, the rival gang members in the car quickly reversed out of the street and left the vicinity.

On this same street where gangs frequently fought over petty power struggles, laid an open field where most of the young kids from the impoverished latino community played football in that area. Out of the bunch of children who played a game of tag on that day were young Jose Lopez and Miguel Artero. They had always been close-knit friends ever since their childhood with strong social and cultural ties, as they were both raised in the same neighborhood that was riddled with gang violence. 

The boys finally stopped their game of tag.  “Good job Miguel! You won.” Jose congratulated him, patting his hands over Miguel’s shoulder while they both tried to catch their breath after their game. After a long-winded day, the two boys laid down on the field and stared at the sky as the sun shined on them. As Miguel freely looks over to Jose, “Best friends?” as he joyfully asked him. “Nah, we are amigos,” Jose replied in a merry tone. 

On a similar sunny day after time had passed, both Jose and Miguel were now grown-up teenagers playing soccer in the same field. In the middle of their match, Miguel received a pass from Jose and thrivingly scored a goal into a rusty goal post.

 “I gotta admit. That was a pretty sick goal dude, but you know what else was awesome?” Jose questioned him in a confident manner. “What?” asked Miguel, curiously staring at Jose. “It was that dope pass made by me dude!” his friend stated profusely. 

“In soccer, no one cares about the passes hombre, it’s all about whether you actually made the goal fool.” Miguel snorted. The two of them ended their friendly squabble, and continued talking to each other as they walked along the gritty streets of their neighbourhood. 

“You know that girl from Maths class?” as Miguel unconfidently asked Jose. 

“Yeah, she sits right next to me, what about her, el macho?” Jose replied. Miguel then nervously explained that the girl in the math class had been borrowing his stationery even though she already had her own. He soon realized the girl had an interest in him as Jose pointed out the elephant in the room.

“Dude, it just means she’s trying to find a way to talk to you. She likes you, well that’s the least I can hope for you hermano!” he added in a sarcastic tone, followed by Miguel laughing off the presumptuous reasoning made by Jose.

As they both strolled towards the end of the street, Jose stood his ground and encouraged Miguel to ask the girl from maths class out for a date. Miguel nodded in agreement with him. 

“Yeah I could try asking her out.” Miguel stated, before an unexpected change of topic. “Speaking of which, I just heard your older brother just got out of jail?” Jose questioned, which was met by a hesitating glance from his friend.

“Yeah, my brother just got out.” Miguel sighed in a worried tone.

“That’s cool, man!” Jose exclaimed. Miguel grumbled and insisted that his older brother getting out of jail was far from a blessing. 

“It’s not cool considering the things he’s done in the past. My brother is absolutely loco.” Miguel muttered.

 “Well then, alright. I will see you on the field tomorrow.” Jose murmured in reply, as they both shook hands and parted their ways.

As Jose’s walk back home became tiresome, he decided to drop by his elder brother Quin’s workshop in the late afternoon. As he arrived at the workshop, he greeted Quin and his friends, getting ignored in return as no one could be bothered enough to entertain him. Jose once had a strong connection with Quin when they were much younger. However, as they grew older, his elder brother got involved with “outside work”- which in reality was robbing jewellery stores.

Despite Quin’s criminal history, Jose still truly considered him as a brother. Sometimes, Jose would question himself as to whether even the strongest feelings could expire for someone after being ignored and taken for granted. Regardless, he peeped around one of Quin’s cars at the workshop, which had an open trunk. He then proceeded to check out the trunk, recovering stacks of cash and a submachine gun as a result.

As Quinn slowly walked towards him from a distance, Jose quickly hid the cash and gun back where he found them. 

“Hey! What are you doing around here touching my stuff, pendejo?” as Quin snapped towards his younger brother, slamming down the trunk. “

Well you know this could be my stuff too.” Jose raved on about wanting to be involved with the “outside work” that his elder brother does. 

“Look around, all of this. This ain’t you, and the only thing you should be doing is studying!” Quin replied angrily. One of Quin’s gang members, Lorenzo, approached Quin and mentioned that his little brother had been hanging out with Miguel around the field. Quin shouted and called Jose to come over to him, leaning close to Jose’s face and questioning him about his whereabouts. “Don’t play with me little bro, my boy Lorenzo told me you were at the field hanging out with Miguel.” Quin urged Jose to answer back to him. 

“Yeah, I was at the field... maybe he was there. What’s the problem?” Jose hissed back at his elder brother. 

“The problem is that you're still hanging out with him, that’s the problem! What if one day you slip up, tell him about what we have going on here, and then what?” Quin persistently continued. Jose stared down at the ground silently, with a look of dismay. His brother beckoned for him to sit down, and explained to him the reason he did not want him hanging out with Miguel. 

“Things are different now hermanito, especially ever since Miguel’s elder brother Carlos and his gang tried to snitch on us five months ago. We distance ourselves from them now,” Quin grunted, urging his younger brother to head back home.

The next day followed, and it was once again the same, rainless sunny day. Miguel was in the field, but he could not seem to find Jose. As he confusingly looked around for his friend, he peered past the fence to look out over the street. There he noticed Jose sitting at a bus stop across the street. Miguel called Jose over by the fence and even waved at him to try to get his attention. Jose met him with a brief, hesitant look, but a bus arrived and blocked Miguel’s sight of his friend. Jose got on the bus and left the area, leaving Miguel completely puzzled.

As weeks passed, Miguel was yet again at the field all alone by himself. Miguel laid on the field alone, with the sun bathing on him. He still had high hopes that Jose would meet with him this time instead. When Miguel finally noticed Jose walking past the field, he expected him to enter, but Jose continued walking past the field along the street instead. 

Miguel then tried to approach Jose on the opposite side of the fence line. “What’s up bro! Where have you been man?” Miguel asked him excitedly.

 “I’ve been around.” he replied in a quavered tone. 

“What do you mean you’ve been around? I’ve seen you trying to avoid me.” Miguel tried to get an explanation from Jose as he exited the field and started walking with him. It was then revealed that Jose had been blatantly ignoring him completely for the past two days. While being continuously questioned by Miguel, one of the questions he asked in particular was whether Jose still considered him as a friend. “You sure there’s nothing wrong going between us bro? Like, are we still friends or what?” he finally asked, putting his hand over Jose’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, we’re good man. We are still friends.” Jose replied in a low tone. He proceeded to further open up to him as Miguel looked at him closely. Miguel had wanted to let him know that he has been dating the girl from maths class that he was initially shy to approach for the past few weeks. As a slight hint for happiness lit up Jose’s silence, a car suddenly stopped at the side of the street right next to the both of them.

The conversation between Jose and Miguel was quickly cut off by Quin exiting the car with Lorenzo. He stared furiously at Miguel and shouted at Jose, shoving him away from his friend. “I told you to stay away from him!” he yelled again at his younger brother.

 “It’s not exactly what it looks like bro.” Jose protested in a wavering tone. 

Quin shouted at Jose one last time, and pushed Jose into the car. 

“You don’t have to listen to him, Jose. He doesn’t own you,” Miguel said, adding more fuel to the altercation. Quinn instantly pulled out a pistol and pointed it at the temple of Miguel’s face. He repeated that it was none of his business to have a say in the heated argument. 

Miguel boldly brushed off the pistol and attempted to walk away. “Man, I don't need any of this crap right now. I’m out.” he swore. As he was about to turn his back to walk away, Quinn whacked the pistol cross his face, causing him to helplessly fall down on the ground

Quin goes off on a flurry of whips across Miguel’s face, leaving his face badly bruised and bleeding from the hard metal of the gun. At the same time, Lorenzo held Jose back from defending his friend. When Quin finally stopped, Lorenzo set Jose free and walked over to Quin to caution him. “Little kid’s had enough Quinn, let’s bounce.” 

Quinn concealed his pistol before instructing Lorenzo to drag Jose into his car as they quickly left the scene. Miguel then slowly stood up in a dazed manner, and slowly walked away. From a distance, a group of kids had witnessed the occuring scene in dumbfounded silence.

Miguel walked all the way back home completely hurt, with his face badly bruised as it oozed with blood. Upon arriving home, he had to enter via the backyard as he had lost his house keys during the incident. He slowly crept into the backyard, and hid behind a pillar while he noticed his elder brother Carlos Artero and his own gang having a barbecue. Most often at times like this, Carlos would ramble on about past crimes he and his gang committed like they were folk tales. As they all continued boasting their past exploits, Carlos and his gang stood up for a toast with their beers in hand, and Miguel seized the chance to walk by hoping they would not notice his injuries. 

When Miguel was about an inch away from entering his house’s backyard door, Carlos called him to come over, but Miguel tried to ignore him.

“Hey pequeño cabrón, get the hell over here and say hi to your big brother.” he called to Miguel. 

He finally stumbled over, maintaining a distance of a few feet away from the group. “Have a little respect and get in there, man.” Tadeo, Carlos’s right hand man, beckoned as he pushed Miguel towards his brother.

“Look at me,” spoke Carlos in a calm, unwavering tone.

It was a bright afternoon, so sunny that even the sun would need sunglasses. Carlos took off his sunglasses and noticed the injuries on Miguel’s face as everybody stared in shock. “Mierda! Tell me who did this to you!” he roared at Miguel, who tried to defuse his brother’s temper by claiming it was self-injury. 

“You are a clumsy fool, you know that right?” Tadeo joked along with everybody laughing. 

Carlos then called his aunt Sofia over, as she tentatively walked over to him. “Do you know who did this at the field?” as Carlos questions her.

 “The kids said it was Quin,” she replied stiffly.

Upon witnessing the injuries that were inflicted onto his younger brother, Carlos was filled with boiling rage as he threw his beer bottle on the floor. “Let’s go see what these putas are all about!” he screamed, as he and his gang climbed into their car.

“Carlos, it ain’t a big deal,” Miguel begged, with tears in his eyes. 

“I said let's go.” replied his elder brother in a commanding tone, as he brought Miguel along with them. 

Camila, Carlo’s girlfriend, begged him at the very last minute not to go and reminded him that he had just been released from jail not too long ago. 

“Don’t worry chica, I got this.” Carlos confidently replied, fueled with rage, as he soon would realise he would be consumed by his own emotions at the very end.  

Jose, Quinn and his gang shortly arrived back at their workshop. Quinn then brought Jose as they both sat down together on a sofa. “Look, what happened back there was because I was trying to protect you. Out here in the streets, it’s rough and you can’t be sharing the same bed with your enemies,” Quinn begged to differ Jose’s view of Miguel as a close friend. 

“Look, I knew he was a close friend to you but like I’ve mentioned. But things are different now,” he reinforced his stance about Jose’s friendship. “Hey, look at this.” he said in an inviting tone as he pulled out an old childhood photo of him and Miguel when they were younger. 

“You looked like a real bad-ass back then.” Jose smiled at his elder brother. “But who’s the kid in the photo?” he asked, trying to recognise the other person in the photo by pointing at the younger figure. 

“That’s you, man. I’ve been looking out for you since you were a little kid. You’d piss on the bed all the time while we were sleeping next to each other.” Quin replied in a calm, loving tone. He assured Jose that family would be the only thing he could count on throughout his life. However, as Jose acknowledged his brother’s advice, he kept a firm stance that friends on the outside could sometimes be a part of the family too. 

“No, friends are never part of your family.” Quin said grimly, taking back the photo from Jose’s hands and putting it back in his wallet.

A car suddenly approached the workshop out of nowhere, screeching its tires and stopping right in front of the shop. “Stay behind, Jose.” Quin whispered to his brother, before quickly rallying his gang to face the confrontation by Carlos.

 “Come on, get a move on!” shouted Carlos as he and his gang exited the car and pulled Miguel out. 

“What are you doing here, puta?” Quin growled. Carlos responded, shouting that no one hurts his family.

As the tense situation escalated by every crucial second, Quinn taunted Carlos with a swirl of vulgarities. Carlos screamed back at him, prompting a few of the gang members to start aiming their guns at each other. 

At the peak of the tense situation, it erupted as Lorenzo walked out from one of the stalls with a parcel meant for Quinn. While Lorenzo walked out being completely unaware of the situation at hand, he continued with his full attention reading the label on the parcel. Within a split second, Lorenzo glanced and realised the situation. He then quickly pulled out his gun, which Carlos’s gang responded with panicked gunfire into the air. Quin immediately held back his gang members from the shooting, which was to no avail as Lorenzo instantly fired the first shot at someone.

A deafening crack of thunder filled the workshop as the deadly shootout began. As the sound of gunfire continued, a train passed by the railroad near the workshop. After the train passed by, the sound of gunfire briefly came to an end. 

“This wasn’t worth it,” Carlos yelped, as his right-hand man quickly dragged him back onto their car. Carlos was in a critical condition as he continued to bleed out in the car, glancing back at the workshop. He noticed most of Quin’s gang lying dead on the floor, either shot up into pieces, or barely breathing. They left the scene in a battle-scarred state.

Quinn laid on the floor after taking two shots to his lower abdomen, “Jose...Jose..” he shuddered, calling out his brother’s name in a weakened tone. Quin desperately pulled out the same childhood photo of them, which was now stained with blood from the bullet holes that had been pierced into his body. Quinn’s vision slowly turned pitch black, as if he was in a dark tunnel, and he slowly lost his vision and fell unconscious.

At the end of that very same tunnel, a decade passed where Miguel finds himself cliqued up with his elder brother Carlos committing illicit crimes across the states. A grown-up Miguel, who was once just a young teenager playing football at the field, loaded a gun with ease as he passed it to his elder brother. 

“Family first, right?” Miguel implied to Carlos. 

“Yeah, family first.” as Carlos replied to him, as they entered a van and left an abandoned garage.

There was a new world to be made.