-1Chapter One- Crow Vs. Tex

Wednesday, April 17, 1985

Madison, Wisconsin

8:54 PM

“Guys this is fucking crazy . . . . Get down!”

Shots rang out on the cold wintry day in Madison echoing the heavy ice-cold raindrops that had started falling ten minutes earlier. Drifts of powdered snow floated across the pavement sweeping away any signs of new growth. The bullets did this too, all eight rounds in cheap semi-automatics, which seemed to replace G.I. Joes and baseball gloves. Death was in the air; it’s bitter scent floating through the myriad of alleys and corridors throughout the city. The taste of death however, was more revolting than the sound, putrid and rotting. The flavor, like rocky road ice cream, was becoming addictive to many throughout the city, more important than family or reasons. Each night, the haunted soldiers marched through Hell’s gates, each fighting for a reason unknown to them. The storm, had finally hit Madison.

This adolescent gang war that had erupted five years earlier, in the summer of 1980, was no ordinary youth protest. They were trained, brutal, and downright defiant. There were signs at first, scrawled graffiti on public buildings and flyers stuck to chained-linked fences, but no one paid attention, what reason would any self respecting adult find themselves reading between the lines of the colorful murals or reading a flyer titled “Kidz Rock” or “The Extreme” that lay in a gutter? Slowly attacks began taking place, houses of semi-powerful politicians looted and more muggings on busy street corners, kids who looked like they should be playing Rambo actually holding people up with BOA knives and real assault weapons. Then without any warning, or without realizing they’d had warning, the streets were filled with a gang, more powerful than any gang of race or religion, this had young adults of all ages; all colors, all religions, rich and poor, fighting for equal rights and respect. They called themselves The Extreme or Tex for short, after the leader’s own father, a Texan who he hated beyond words. This word, symbolized his extreme hatred and a reminder of revenge. They spread the word about a cause, a change, and everyone believed him. Every kid, hungry for revenge on parents and autonomy ate it up.

The leader of Tex, David Kelly, was no model citizen, but he was witty, intelligent, and callous towards all adults. He earned respect first before demanding it and lead a monarchy-style outfit, declaring himself King and his close friends Princes. Then they selected Lords, and gave them leaderships over territory and their own men. The Lords appointed Knights, who were brave and had done exceptional work for the gang and gave them rule over squires, the lowest rank was squire besides peasant, which was used often for civilian members. It was immature but they loved it and praised the King of the Streets. The real David Kelly, the one without divine right, had been anything but blue blooded. He’d been thrown in and out of foster homes, from one abuser to the next after his own father had almost killed him with a heroin needle when he was six. His mother was a crack whore who sold her son to friends for large sums of crack or sex, whatever was more important to her at the time. The kid, after one particular abusive set of foster parents, had run away, eleven years old and lived on the streets. He’d been brought back again and again by authorities that didn’t give a damn but he kept running away until finally he wasn’t found or cared to be found. He survived, learned to read and write, learned all about society and government and vowed to take them down. He and his closest friends started a gang, slowly at first, recruiting and preaching at hangouts.

After six months five hundred youth were in some way affiliated with the gang whether civilian or not, running around David Kelly’s kingdom. Police had been arrogant in their pursuit of David Kelly, but people hid him. The press fed adolescents what they needed, fuel to feed their anger and soon every adult and child was whispering his name, Tex’s name and everyone wanted to be a part of the excitement

The following six months had revealed no leads, just more arrests for adolescents who the law protected and set free. Police were frustrated, parents were terrified, and the governments ignored it, like most governments ignore problems that don’t yield any income for them. Six months turned to twelve and twelve turned to twenty-four and still the violence claimed the streets.

Something, whether something good or bad, depending which side of the coin people followed, did happen in the period. David Kelly, the respected leader of Tex started losing control. People just didn’t believe his intentions anymore and they started deserting him. Teens, feeling they were gaining progress turned their attention to other avenues creating new gangs and new causes. They titled one gang Crow, created by a guy nicknamed Crow. The Crow was once a Prince under David Kelly, one of his best friends, but didn’t believe his motives anymore. David Kelly betrayed his friends, killing his closest in the process, casting the rest out. So like Lucifer defied God, The Crow turned against Tex and started his own gang. Soon Crow was just as strong as Tex and the war raged on. Causes came and went, messages were lost, and suddenly there was no reason for fighting, just older kids taking advantage of the young, feeding lies and filling them up with glory and all for greed and power.

This particular evening the streets were barren. Some were too afraid of the icy blasts or like most, because of the devastating violence that had claimed the streets. Four significant teenagers, knights in rank, and sons of the powerful lineage were crouching low in a littered alley behind an old dry cleaning business on near West Johnson and South Mills holding their weapons like gold, watching a few bullets wiz by above them. Whether the assailant was shooting at them was unknown but they stayed low for a minute waiting in suspense.

“I think it’s clear.” Shawn Adam’s, the son of a notorious congressman, infamous for his bitter words and scandals, said softly. Unlike his father, Shawn was soft spoken and far from bitter. He cared; maybe more than he should about the rebellion and the way it positively served his already damaged self-esteem.

The four of them slowly rose staring into the lighted street, glad for their own cover in darkness. Shawn took a can of red spray paint from his back pocket and proceeded to draw a giant crow on the crumbling bricks. He was great at graffiti, considered himself an excellent tagger. His symbols and messages could be seen all across Madison.

Luke Marain looked at his watch and sighed. It was now nine o’clock, the curfew had started and the police were prowling around like cats in search of a mouse, ready to lock up anyone they saw. It was like one of those gangster movies where people hid out in the dark alleys in search of their assassin. The skies were dark and clouded and it looked as though there was no sign of the rain relenting any time soon. An explosion shook the ground and flames could be seen spitting out windows. The whole city looked like it had been swallowed by the wrath of Satan. Apparently Tex had blown up a department store. The sirens could be heard in the distance.

A black police vans rolled down the slippery street, spotlights shining from every direction, loud speakers saying the same thing over and over, warnings. Their vans were already full when one of them pulled a member of Crow in kicking and screaming.

“Guys this is fucking crazy,” He repeated again. “We’re going to get busted if we stay out here or get killed, whatever comes first.” Luke was the leader, of the four of them anyway, he carried the leadership skills, pride, and bravado, which he’d, inherited from his father who just happened to be a decorated police officer, Captain to be exact, of the Near West Precinct in Madison. As much as Luke was like his father, he was also very different. Luke’s father was trying to get people off the streets and Luke was trying to recruit them on.

He stared at his watch again, a crappy swatch watch he’d received for his birthday. He’s never changed the straps, just left them black with a few threads of silver. It matched his black jeans and black sweater and his black .380 ACP with its three and a half inch barrel and eight round capacity. Everyone wore black in Madison; it was the dress code.

They were watching the kid, still kicking and screaming, become property of the state. Another young future ruined. A spotlight shone down the alley where they were standing and the four of them immediately sucked in their stomached and tried to disappear into the wall.

“My Mom’s going to kill me if I’m late again.” He spoke again. He could smell death in the air, he knew someone close was going to die tonight.

“At least you’ve got someone worrying about you.” Shawn mumbled brushing the snow off his pants and bending down to pick up a tiny round piece of cloth, a badge he’d been given the day he was recruited into Crow. It was red, with a black Crow in the center, nothing spectacular but any Crow member knew it was the most important thing in the world.

The tall one was watching the kid; he’d known him from school, when there was school, and he already knew that the kid would be going to jail. A few years back, as Charlie Rogers, the tall kid remembered, the feds had passed a new law stating that anyone who was caught committing a crime that was also a gang member would be instinctively charged as an adult. “The kids wanted to have equal rights, well they would damn well have them,” Charlie recalled, remembering it was his own father who had spoke these words. Charlie’s father was a senator, who unlike most politicians, was also trying to help. He was a good man, mentioned repeatedly on his news for his fairness and honestly. Charlie didn’t carry these features but unlike his father, on the other hand, had been screwed around by the law before and didn’t feel so honest and fair. He was the friend in movies who was Mr. Tough Guy, enjoyed brawling and no one messed around with.

“Yeah, at least you got someone!” The youngest but biggest of the four spoke bitterly. His name was Allen Karman and no one cared about him either. His father wasn’t anyone special, just a refrigerator repairman; no it was his mother, Ms. Jane Marshall, District Attorney in Washington D.C. who had made headlines. Her tough talk, and walk, for that matter had gotten her the lead in many high profile cases never falling for plea bargains. She was on talk shows running down other prosecutors for their lack of justice but was not very outspoken about her three older children, whom she abandoned, two of whom were serving prison terms for armed robbery and the third, the youngest of the boys, having a long but minor arrest record and was currently in Crow. Allen didn’t care, that was her choice, her mistake. He reached into his black jeans and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, the cheapest he could buy, and a blue lighter. Putting the cigarette to his mouth and shielding the flame with his coat he began trying to light it. Before the flame reached the tobacco Charlie grabbed the cigarette and threw it to the ground, giving Allen a playful, but meaningful slap across the back of the head shortly after.

“You want to get us busted? Cops can see lights you know!” Shawn and Luke didn’t notice what Allen was doing. They heard Charlie growl but instead of submitting their opinion they stood holding their weapons close hoping the cops, or another gang hadn’t seen them. Shots ricocheted a few blocks away and they all wondered if someone had been killed. Was it someone they liked, hated?

“Gangs can see lights too idiot! I swear you’re getting dumber everyday. No brains!” Shawn hissed when he was sure it was safe.

“Aw fuck you guys! I’ve been dying for one all night.” He pouted putting his big hands back in his pocket.

“Well, I gotta go. I’m tired and I’m freezing.” Luke spoke again, impatiently.

“Yeah, see you fucks tomorrow.” Shawn snickered taking off cautiously. He had a longer way to go than the rest. He lived all the way up on Woodward Drive, not far from Governor’s island. His family owned a pretty estate with a pool and lakefront property on Mendota. He usually didn’t walk the whole way; most times he bribed a cab driver to take him, giving him a fifty in the process. Allen lived on Oakville Avenue just off Monroe. It was getting to be a pretty untrustworthy neighborhood, right in the middle of two territories, but he managed. Charlie and Luke barely lived six blocks apart. Charlie lived right on Ash Street right close to West High School, their old school, and Luke lived on Summit Avenue not too far away from the university campus. He used to look out his window at the campus and think of his college days, Animal House type parties and women, lots of them. That was before they passed a law not allowing people with criminal records of any kind into college, the government deterrent to stop crime. Luke snickered; all it did was give kids without a future a less shot at one, him included.

Luke and Charlie took off together but separated soon after. There was always the realization lurking in the back of his mind that he may never see one if any of his friends again. They could be arrested or shot at any time. He had however, learned not to let this interfere with his cautiousness. Fear was nothing; it wasn’t real if he didn’t let it be real. More important was death and being arrested, those were real and he wanted to avoid both, more the second one than the first.

Glancing at his watch for the third time he swore to himself realizing he was late for his own curfew at home. His mom would freak again, like she did a lot. Not that he blamed her; she had reason to worry about him. She’s already lost one son. Taking off in a dead run he wanted to pat himself on the back for how in shape he was. He’d never had very good stamina, but running for his life, he’d probably be able to dead out run for two miles if he needed to. Before he was even allowed into Crow he was forced to run a makeshift obstacle course, testing his fitness. He’d passed, but was certainly not at his best then. Now he could run it with his eyes closed in half the time.

He arrived home breathless but only five minutes past curfew. He lived in a good neighborhood, good neighbors, low crime area, which didn’t mean criminals didn’t live there. It just wasn’t territory gangs felt they didn’t need. The whole area was completely middle class residential homes with the occasional restaurant and gas station that only got knocked off it people were really desperate. Luke knew his mom would be pissed off, probably ground him, which meant he’d have to sneak out and he didn’t like betraying his mother’s trust. His father on the other hand, was a completely different story; they didn’t get along too well anymore. Opening the door he removed his shoes and peeked his head around the corner into the kitchen where his mom who was craning her neck to see if it was her son who had arrived home, late.

“Hey I’m home.” Luke spoke trying to soften her mood.

“You’re late! You know that don’t you?” She hissed standing up and marching over to him. “Where were you? I was watching the news?” Every night at nine o’clock and eleven o’clock a list of names, people who’d been killed or arrested were publicly televised. It was like receiving a telegram from the army except it was more modern. His mother was a faithful follower, watched it nightly, making sure he wasn’t on it. If it was up to his mom he’d be locked in the basement and never allowed out; the city encouraged people to be cautious but to go along with their lives.

Luke didn’t blame her though; he remembered it so clearly, coming home after hanging out with his friends and seeing his traumatized parents surrounded by supportive cops after their firstborn son Logan had been murdered that night. Luke was at Jake’s, a popular hangout, while Tex was murdering his brother. He shook the thoughts from his head; it was three years ago. He recalled sitting up all night watching his brother’s name scroll across the television. Logan would have been proud to have his name in lights, just not like that. Luke didn’t want to believe it, kept expecting it to be some sick joke, in truth Luke still didn’t want to believe it. It wasn’t until the major media anchors began broadcasting that a police captain’s son had been murdered in what seemed to be a gang shooting of an innocent bystander did Luke realize it was true. Most people, naïve people, didn’t realize that Logan wasn’t an innocent bystander but a Prince in Tex and then he left Tex, and moved over to Crow. This sparked hatred, and David Kelly, Logan’s best friend, murdered him for it.

“I know, sorry. This cop stopped me on the way home, showed him my ID and he talked about dad for a bit.” His mother immaturely believed he was at Charlie’s house.

“How is Charlie?”

“Oh good. Says to say hi to you two.” Luke explained brightly. She frowned ruthlessly not believing her son for one minute. “Jeffrey Abler, you know Dean and Leslie’s son, he was arrested for mischief. I saw his name on the list.” Luke and Jeff had been friends like a million years earlier but didn’t even see each other anymore. Luke was sure Jeff was in Tex, traitor, and didn’t care one bit about it.

“Huh? Probably in a gang.” Luke spoke, trying to sound alarmed that he might be a gang member.

“All those gangs out there with Tex and Crow being the worst, I just want to scream. I can’t handle this anymore.” Her head fell to the floor. Luke sympathized with his mother, for him, loosing his older brother was the worst moment in his life; he couldn’t imagine loosing a kid.

“Crow’s not that bad.” Luke blurted out remembering his mother knew nothing of the war between the two or the reason for the war. She had no idea that Crow tried and was still trying to avenge her son. He was hanging around Shawn too much, he thought to himself, blurting out things. He cursed himself as he waited for a response.

“What did I hear you say? His mother asked, demanding an answer.

“I said I heard Crow isn't that bad. You know,” he paused seeing if she was following him, “the cause and all that sh . . . stuff.” He exclaimed nervously.

His mother wasn't that dumb and he wasn’t exactly the best liar when it came to his her. His mother had a way of charming the truth out of him.

“No, you didn’t, you said Crow isn't that bad.”

“Oh did I? I meant . . .” Luke muttered, I meant that I heard they were . . . .” He lowered his head and tried to act innocent. Luke had learned just to act stupid and mumble, maybe add a couple nonexistent words and parents usually didn't bother with the rest of the conversation. His mother wasn't that easily persuaded this time.

“Luke, please tell me you’re not in Crow or God forbid Tex, you know what could happen? You could get arrested, even worse killed.” She declared worriedly, her eyes widening with each word. Luke wanted to scream at her that he would never be in Tex, not the gang that killed Logan.

“Mom, I’m not in some stupid gang.” He lied trying to sound genuine. It's not like he would just say, hey mom I’m in a gang, please bitch at me now. The only thing to do was to try to get out of the room as quick as possible. “Well I’m beat, and I’m going to bed . . . . “ He started to walk away when his mother stopped him.

“You’re going to bed at nine o’clock?” She chastised.

“Yeah, I’m tired.” He yawned feeling instantly ridiculous.

“Luke! I’m not kidding, please stay out of this! Your father is trying to get kids off the street, and I don't think he would like his son involved in criminal activity, you aren’t a criminal.” Lorna muttered. Luke rolled his eyes glaring. He hated these damn worthless speeches.

“Depends what you think a criminal is? He remarked, egging her on. He couldn’t have just kept his mouth shut because that would have been too easy.

“A criminal is a person guilty of breaking the law, a person who commits a crime. Now what have you done this time Luke?” Luke rolled his eyes, thinking that line had come straight from the dictionary. He glared angry, at the “this time” comment, her assumption that he was doing something illegal, which he was, but she didn’t know that.

“Mom! I’m a criminal I guess but not the kind that could get me locked up. Just take a chill pill? Jesus Christ!”

“I don’t want you to use the Lords name in vain again.” She usually used that I’m-the-pope routine around his friends, which really pissed him off. They didn’t even go to church. She sighed and continued. “And what does that mean? You’re a criminal but not the kind that can get you locked up?” She was starting to go pink in the face. It clashed with her already dark red hair hung at her shoulders after a long day in a tight bun. “What does that mean?”

“Never mind just lay off.” Luke expressed annoyed, inching closer to the stairs.

“You’re stealing again aren’t you? Your father will kill you if he finds out, let alone if you got caught. I won’t stick up for you again.” She was pointing her finger at her like a sword.

“No one asked you to play hero the first time.” He insulted, his temper flaring.

“Well someone had to.”

“Mom,” He scoffed trying to calm down, “that was three years ago. Get over it already. I know I screwed up okay?”

“You’re right. You did screw up and you’ll pay with your freedom if you screw up again.” His mother explained hurtfully.

“Oh, I already know what that’s like . . . .” He snapped.

“Luke!” She hissed, scolding.

“I’m not stealing!”

“Your father will flip! You know how hard on him it was; will be, especially now that he’s been promoted!”

“Just because I’m the son of a cop, it doesn’t mean I have to act like I’ve never done anything illegal. God, I’m not a cop. Those rules don’t apply to me.”

“Yes they do! Don’t get smart with me either young man. Do you think you don’t have to obey the laws? Who do you think you are?” His mother replied harshly.

“Mom, that’s not what I meant. I . . . .” He faded, not really knowing what he meant, and definitely not knowing how to explain it.

“Luke, do you want me to tell your father?” Her face was beet red. This was her ultimate threat and it usually worked but not today. Luke was sixteen turning seventeen and seventeen-year-old kids didn't have to listen to anyone and he didn't care about anything that wouldn't benefit him.

“Tell him what? I’m not doing anything. Man, isn’t my word good enough?” He knew this was a short chance. His word to his mother was like letting a robber into a vault because he promised not to steal anything.

“Not really Luke. You’ve betrayed us too many times before.”

“Believe me mom I’m not doing anything wrong!” He shouted, wishing he could tell her to fuck right off. In a softer tone he added, “How did we even get on this topic? Don't worry.”

“Luke. Find something to do okay? We’ll discuss this later.” Whenever she could fight no more, she would get fed up and make him to go away.

“When will dad be home?” Luke sighed; the conversation was finally over.

“Why?” She asked him suspiciously.

“I was just wondering. God!” He put up his hands defensively.

“Ten, so you better get that garbage out, you know what he’ll say.” She answered crudely.

“Fine, wouldn’t want him to “say” anything.” His sarcastic reply made her eyes squint in rage and Luke was sure she was going to start in on him again, but she went back to the television. If Luke hadn’t been so angry he would have sympathized with her.

Lorna Marain was a frightened woman. She grew up in New Jersey dirt poor to abusive parents. She had two older brothers Steven, and James. Her father was a lazy alcoholic who only came home when he wanted money, or a punching bag. Her mother was a workaholic and was just as bad as her husband when it came to abuse. Lorna ran away at sixteen and lived with her boyfriend who beat and battered her. She eventually married him at eighteen, thinking he would change. She got pregnant and had a miscarriage, probably prone to her husband’s abuse. A year later the police arrested her husband, she divorced him and married twenty-four-year-old Jack Marain, who just happened to be the arresting officer six months later. By twenty she had already had her first child and never got the chance for college. Then she was mugged twice before she was twenty-four and constantly fretted about security. Even though it was seventeen years later, it still bothered her. It bothered her even more when a rebellion was going on with murders and assaults just outside her front door. Her firstborn, Logan, was murdered heartlessly on the streets of Madison three years earlier. Then she found out two years earlier that her first husband was out of jail and when he came after her, she could have been killed if weren’t for Jack. For the rest of her life Lorna Marain would be afraid.

Luke went and begrudgingly grabbed the garbage bags and towed them to the street, heaving one at the can, missing it by about ten feet and splitting it open so trash exploded on the street.

“For fuck sakes.” He mumbled under his breath, picking it up and retying the bag. He considered leaving it, but knew his dad would have something to “say”. His dad always had something to “say”. He was always ranting and raving, not getting off his case. Luke found it strange that Jack was completely different with Logan. When his dad and Logan were on good terms Jack basically let him do what he wanted, never making him do anything, and even when they were on the worst terms possible, Jack still said nothing, not a word. Luke knew that he was the favorite son, well before he was the only son, and suddenly a fuck up. Jack used to do everything with him, spent tons of time teaching him useless garbage but Luke used to enjoy it. They were really close at one time, friends. Jack and Logan used to get along but they didn’t spend a lot of time together. Then Jack and Logan had a rough year, a rough couple of years, they hated one another. Luke remembered his dad ranting to his mom that Logan was a screw up with no future, the damned one of the Marain family and Luke was the prize. Well that sure changed, Luke scoffed, walking inside. He certainly didn’t have a spot reserved on his father’s mantel of approval these days. Luke realized with distain that he didn’t even care anymore, people change, people grow apart.

In his room he pressed the play button on his cassette player. It had been a present from his parents the past year. He thought he was so cool to be one of the first of his friends to get one. The music cut in half way through Black Sabbath’s Paranoid. Luke loved the song; he’d made the mix himself a month earlier and couldn’t get enough of it. He threw himself on his bed, listening to the lyrics. He just wanted to get the hell out of Madison and drive, drive off the earth to somewhere where people were equal, a road to anywhere, it didn’t matter to him. That’s what the cause was about, he convinced himself. He’d often dreamt of the places they would go, making tracks in history books, being remembered for doing something, making a difference in the world. It was a childish dream, Luke knew he was naïve for thinking it, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted what most people wanted, to belong to the world, to be remembered long after he was gone.

The song ended along with Luke’s train of thought. The soft mellow strum of Every Rose Has It’s Thorn began. Still feeling profound, Luke felt significance in the new song as well. The message screamed at him, loud and clear. There were a lot of good things about the rebellion, but like every rose has its thorn, every war has its casualties. He liked having freedom to do what he wanted. There wasn’t school anymore, except private ones, because the schools had been turned into half-way houses. His parents forced him to take correspondence courses but Luke didn’t mind, he knew education was important. There were only a few jobs, and no one would hire teenagers anyway, despite what his father said. There was no reasoning with Jack Marain; it was like talking to a brick wall once he’d made up his mind about something. Luke was a knight, a fairly good rank for someone his age, with his experience. He liked knowing he was needed, that he was doing something important.

Then there was the bad, people dying, people getting arrested, fighting strangers. That’s what Luke hated the most, fighting some kid he’s never met, but he did it, without question because he was a good soldier, and he knew it would make Logan proud. Logan had been a Prince, and when he died he took up the symbol he found under Logan’s bed and brought his brother back to life. He wanted revenge on Tex, especially David Kelly, for killing his brother, that was another motive, but Luke didn’t delve into that one too often, it was a selfish and Luke liked to think he did everything for the cause, not his own motives.

He still found the whole story so incredible, Logan’s death. David Kelly and Logan had been best friends, along with Aaron Rogers, Charlie’s brother, and Martin Oliver Walker, the leaders of Crow. David wanted power and Martin, Aaron, Oliver and his brother wouldn’t follow him into his world of blood and greed. David murdered his brother for defying him. It was because of his brother that Crow and Tex were enemies and Luke was sure Martin and Oliver Walker would kill David if they could find him. He couldn’t understand betraying friends like David did. He could never kill Charlie, Allen, or Shawn; and for what, money?

His friends joined Crow because they understood Luke’s motives but they had their personal reasons as well. Charlie wanted revenge on the authorities for six months of his life, Shawn wanted to make his father look bad, and Allen did it for the thrill and to piss off his mother. Besides, the four of them always had enjoyed an adventure.