The Car Park

The gunshot still rang in Kyle's ears, bouncing around his skull like a bell that wouldn't stop. Omar's hands shook so hard the pistol almost slipped. His face was pale, sweat slicking his forehead, eyes wide as if he couldn't believe what he'd just done.

"Run, Kyle!" Omar shouted.

But there was no running now.

Bolo's men moved like wolves tasting blood, fanning toward Omar. Derrick yanked Kyle behind the car, his jaw tight, eyes darting.

"Fool!" Derrick hissed under his breath, peeking out. Omar wasn't built for this. He had heart, but heart didn't stop bullets.

Bolo smirked, raising his gun. "Wrong move, bwoy. Now everybody dead."

The second shot cracked. This one found flesh.

Omar jerked back as the bullet tore into his side. He stumbled, dropping the gun, his knees buckling. His eyes found Kyle's through the chaos — and in them, Kyle saw everything. Fear. Regret. But also love.

"Omar!" Kyle screamed, trying to push past Derrick.

Derrick held him down. "Stay low! You move now, you dead too!"

Another shot split the air. Derrick rose just high enough to fire back — his own pistol flashing. One of Bolo's men grunted and collapsed, clutching his stomach.

But it wasn't enough.

Bolo and his other man opened fire together. The car Kyle hid behind shuddered, glass exploding, metal denting. The smell of gunpowder filled the air. Derrick cursed under his breath, grabbed Kyle by the collar, and shoved him toward a gap between the parked cars.

"Run, Kyle! NOW!"

Kyle's legs wouldn't move. Not while Omar lay bleeding, his hand twitching for the gun just out of reach. Not while Derrick, the father he barely knew, stood up into the storm of bullets like some kind of shield.

"Dad—!"

Derrick's last look at him was fierce, almost tender. "I ain't been no father to you, son. But tonight… tonight I die as one."

Then he stepped into the open, unloading his clip.

The world slowed.

Kyle saw Derrick drop one man with a clean headshot. Saw Bolo stumble as a bullet grazed his arm. Saw Omar, gasping, trying to crawl.

Then the final volley tore through Derrick's chest. His body jerked, blood spraying the pavement. He staggered, dropped the empty gun, and fell to his knees.

"NOOOO!" Kyle's scream ripped out of him.

Bolo walked forward, clutching his wounded arm, fury etched into his face. He kicked Derrick's body over with his boot. "Street debts always get paid. And your boy next."

Kyle's breath froze. The gun swung toward him.

But then sirens wailed in the distance — piercing, growing louder.

Bolo cursed, gesturing to his man. "Grab the wounded, move! Police come fast!"

They hauled into the SUV, tires screeching as they peeled off, leaving smoke and blood in their wake.

Kyle scrambled across the pavement, grabbing Omar's hand. His friend's lips were stained red.

"Stay with me, bro. Please!"

Omar's chest rose once, shallow. His eyes locked onto Kyle's. His mouth opened, barely a whisper.

"Live… for both of us…"

And then he went still.

The sirens were deafening now, blue lights flashing.

But Kyle didn't see them. Didn't feel the hands grabbing him, pulling him back. Didn't hear the voices shouting.

All he saw was blood pooling on the asphalt, under his father. Under his brother.

All he felt was that cold truth settling deep inside him.

Ghosts don't stay buried.

And now, he had two more to carry.

The Car Park

The gunshot still rang in Kyle's ears, bouncing around his skull like a bell that wouldn't stop. Omar's hands shook so hard the pistol almost slipped. His face was pale, sweat slicking his forehead, eyes wide as if he couldn't believe what he'd just done.

"Run, Kyle!" Omar shouted.

But there was no running now.

Bolo's men moved like wolves tasting blood, fanning toward Omar. Derrick yanked Kyle behind the car, his jaw tight, eyes darting.

"Fool!" Derrick hissed under his breath, peeking out. Omar wasn't built for this. He had heart, but heart didn't stop bullets.

Bolo smirked, raising his gun. "Wrong move, bwoy. Now everybody dead."

The second shot cracked. This one found flesh.

Omar jerked back as the bullet tore into his side. He stumbled, dropping the gun, his knees buckling. His eyes found Kyle's through the chaos — and in them, Kyle saw everything. Fear. Regret. But also love.

"Omar!" Kyle screamed, trying to push past Derrick.

Derrick held him down. "Stay low! You move now, you dead too!"

Another shot split the air. Derrick rose just high enough to fire back — his own pistol flashing. One of Bolo's men grunted and collapsed, clutching his stomach.

But it wasn't enough.

Bolo and his other man opened fire together. The car Kyle hid behind shuddered, glass exploding, metal denting. The smell of gunpowder filled the air. Derrick cursed under his breath, grabbed Kyle by the collar, and shoved him toward a gap between the parked cars.

"Run, Kyle! NOW!"

Kyle's legs wouldn't move. Not while Omar lay bleeding, his hand twitching for the gun just out of reach. Not while Derrick, the father he barely knew, stood up into the storm of bullets like some kind of shield.

"Dad—!"

Derrick's last look at him was fierce, almost tender. "I ain't been no father to you, son. But tonight… tonight I die as one."

Then he stepped into the open, unloading his clip.

The world slowed.

Kyle saw Derrick drop one man with a clean headshot. Saw Bolo stumble as a bullet grazed his arm. Saw Omar, gasping, trying to crawl.

Then the final volley tore through Derrick's chest. His body jerked, blood spraying the pavement. He staggered, dropped the empty gun, and fell to his knees.

"NOOOO!" Kyle's scream ripped out of him.

Bolo walked forward, clutching his wounded arm, fury etched into his face. He kicked Derrick's body over with his boot. "Street debts always get paid. And your boy next."

Kyle's breath froze. The gun swung toward him.

But then sirens wailed in the distance — piercing, growing louder.

Bolo cursed, gesturing to his man. "Grab the wounded, move! Police come fast!"

They hauled into the SUV, tires screeching as they peeled off, leaving smoke and blood in their wake.

Kyle scrambled across the pavement, grabbing Omar's hand. His friend's lips were stained red.

"Stay with me, bro. Please!"

Omar's chest rose once, shallow. His eyes locked onto Kyle's. His mouth opened, barely a whisper.

"Live… for both of us…"

And then he went still.

The sirens were deafening now, blue lights flashing.

But Kyle didn't see them. Didn't feel the hands grabbing him, pulling him back. Didn't hear the voices shouting.

All he saw was blood pooling on the asphalt, under his father. Under his brother.

All he felt was that cold truth settling deep inside him.

Ghosts don't stay buried.

And now, he had two more to carry.

The Car Park

The gunshot still rang in Kyle's ears, bouncing around his skull like a bell that wouldn't stop. Omar's hands shook so hard the pistol almost slipped. His face was pale, sweat slicking his forehead, eyes wide as if he couldn't believe what he'd just done.

"Run, Kyle!" Omar shouted.

But there was no running now.

Bolo's men moved like wolves tasting blood, fanning toward Omar. Derrick yanked Kyle behind the car, his jaw tight, eyes darting.

"Fool!" Derrick hissed under his breath, peeking out. Omar wasn't built for this. He had heart, but heart didn't stop bullets.

Bolo smirked, raising his gun. "Wrong move, bwoy. Now everybody dead."

The second shot cracked. This one found flesh.

Omar jerked back as the bullet tore into his side. He stumbled, dropping the gun, his knees buckling. His eyes found Kyle's through the chaos — and in them, Kyle saw everything. Fear. Regret. But also love.

"Omar!" Kyle screamed, trying to push past Derrick.

Derrick held him down. "Stay low! You move now, you dead too!"

Another shot split the air. Derrick rose just high enough to fire back — his own pistol flashing. One of Bolo's men grunted and collapsed, clutching his stomach.

But it wasn't enough.

Bolo and his other man opened fire together. The car Kyle hid behind shuddered, glass exploding, metal denting. The smell of gunpowder filled the air. Derrick cursed under his breath, grabbed Kyle by the collar, and shoved him toward a gap between the parked cars.

"Run, Kyle! NOW!"

Kyle's legs wouldn't move. Not while Omar lay bleeding, his hand twitching for the gun just out of reach. Not while Derrick, the father he barely knew, stood up into the storm of bullets like some kind of shield.

"Dad—!"

Derrick's last look at him was fierce, almost tender. "I ain't been no father to you, son. But tonight… tonight I die as one."

Then he stepped into the open, unloading his clip.

The world slowed.

Kyle saw Derrick drop one man with a clean headshot. Saw Bolo stumble as a bullet grazed his arm. Saw Omar, gasping, trying to crawl.

Then the final volley tore through Derrick's chest. His body jerked, blood spraying the pavement. He staggered, dropped the empty gun, and fell to his knees.

"NOOOO!" Kyle's scream ripped out of him.

Bolo walked forward, clutching his wounded arm, fury etched into his face. He kicked Derrick's body over with his boot. "Street debts always get paid. And your boy next."

Kyle's breath froze. The gun swung toward him.

But then sirens wailed in the distance — piercing, growing louder.

Bolo cursed, gesturing to his man. "Grab the wounded, move! Police come fast!"

They hauled into the SUV, tires screeching as they peeled off, leaving smoke and blood in their wake.

Kyle scrambled across the pavement, grabbing Omar's hand. His friend's lips were stained red.

"Stay with me, bro. Please!"

Omar's chest rose once, shallow. His eyes locked onto Kyle's. His mouth opened, barely a whisper.

"Live… for both of us…"

And then he went still.

The sirens were deafening now, blue lights flashing.

But Kyle didn't see them. Didn't feel the hands grabbing him, pulling him back. Didn't hear the voices shouting.

All he saw was blood pooling on the asphalt, under his father. Under his brother.

All he felt was that cold truth settling deep inside him.

Ghosts don't stay buried.

And now, he had two more to carry.

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