The Blood Ring: Shake My Tree

The Mango Tree

Steve Bastione believed he was a reasonable man. He did not consider himself an animal; a savage from the north coast slums. Sure, the Black Dragons were infamous for their brutal ways, but things had changed. Fame and fortune had opened a new frontier for the little-known group of drug dealers. Overnight, they had become celebrities. They were entrepreneurs in charge of a savvy business machine, selling gang-related paraphernalia to the masses. The trade in textile goods didn't deliver as much cash as distributing narco-psychotics. The legitimate enterprises, however, did give the Black Dragons avenues to launder the income.

All thanks to one angel. A girl whose natural beauty scored the attention of a population. Her influence on the street fashion scene changed the fortunes of an entire region. She placed Valeria Coast on the map. Her face sold more gang-issued bandanas off-channel than all her commercial sponsors put together.

Steve struggled not to dwell on it. Her death affected him alone, the business had escaped unscathed. He dealt with the loss in his own way. Methodical, calm and patient, he would carry out his vengeance.

All this anger had upset his stomach. In the kitchen, he scavenged through the filth and mess finding a clean styrofoam cup, a suspicious tea bag and a pre-smartie kettle. He boiled the water and waited for Doctor Gus to regain consciousness. His real name was Glennie Lauderbach.

A psychology intern working at the Psychomax Facility.

When Doctor Gus opened his eyes, he grimaced from the throbbing ache Steve knew he suffered. The man reached up and rubbed the left side of his face; his cheekbone, temple, and jaw. He sported a ginger-fro and possessed sickly white skin.

A self-prescribed Lava user, Steve thought.

"Why you call yourself Doctor Gus?" asked Steve. "Why the fuck would anybody choose a name like that?"

The ginger-fro sniffed the air. "Is that tea I smell?"

"I helped myself," said Steve looking at the hot cup in his hand, annoyed that this joker had ignored his question. Even though he was pressed for time, he saw no alternative but to play along. "I hope you don't mind."

"Nah, go ahead."

Doctor Gus looked around; a frantic disorientation was visible on his face. His eyes screamed... Where am I?... eventually focusing on the sink.

"Yes, that right," said Steve. "You're still here." He could see the panic begin to claw at Doctor Gus.

The back door opened with a loud thud. A troll of a man entered the kitchen, sizing up Doctor Gus with small beady eyes. The man lunged forward, seizing the ginger-fro by the left ear and slammed his face onto the table. Steve grabbed a chair and sat in front of Doctor Gus.

"Can we be civilized about this?" offered Doctor Gus, sounding sincere.

"No," said Steve to the nasty-looking man whose inner ugliness permeated from deep within. "I prefer Mango caves your face in with his fist. Try and estimate the size and density of this man's knuckles. I figure those could do serious damage if misused."

"I get the drift, mate. Call 'im off."

Steve signalled to Mango, who immediately released him.

Doctor Gus climbed off the table and fell back into a chair offered to him. "What's this shit?" he said. "I've nothing with you."

"Oh, but you do, cocksucker."

"We've never met before."

"Then you have a short fucking memory."

Doctor Gus strained his glassy eyes. "I can't fathom who you are or what you're talking about. Why the harsh anger, mate?"

"Nothing?" asked Steve. "No clue?"