CHAPTER SEVEN

Death Valley

After several days, we found out that the dead guy on our trail was not really the guy I hit with my bat, it was the same incident but different guy, and we found out who he was and who killed him. When I was in one of my co-Lords’ place, we found out from our informer and inside man that it was another guy who was killed by our former right hand man who became our greatest and most feared rival. I got cleared from the case and the police were not after me anymore.

We knew that it was already time for us to bid our farewells to each other, so I and my "co-Lords" decided to have some fun before we parted our ways. We thought having fun together will at least give us enough time to remember each other, not with the memories of the evil things we did to most of the people in that place, but with the memories of us being together, finally feeling happy with each other, and remembering the days of all our fun with peace and contentment in our minds and hearts. After a long and overdue talk of to where and when to go, we finally came up with the decision of going someplace quiet, a resort of some kind, and spend the rest of our days there… together.

When weekend came, we decided to do our thing; we went to a popular resort and decided to stay there for the rest of the weekend. Two or three days won’t actually hurt, at least that’s what we thought, and we proved ourselves wrong. It was one of the worst weekends and most horrifying experiences of all our lives.

I had a very close friend in one of my "co-Lords", and we always stick together even until the morning comes. We did most of our partying together, drank beer together, shared our deepest secrets and problems together, and solved every situation we had together. He became one of my closest buddies, and he will always be. He was my alter-ego in the organization. I was the Lord of War and he was the Lord of Peace.

The rest of the "Lords" went inside the hotel, unpacking their bags then went to the lobby for a nice chat, while I and my close friend went for a walk, contemplating what had transpired for the last couple of days. We both realized that what we did was wrong, and he actually decided to turn himself in, thinking that it would be the best way to ease the pain he had for the past couple of days. I never agreed to him for making that decision, for I don’t want to go back to jail… AGAIN, and it was actually a shock to me knowing his personality and his background. He would never want to give himself in without a valid reason. Maybe his conscience is already killing him.

As we were walking and continually conversing with our thoughts and views, I suddenly heard a gunshot. I was shocked! Maybe terrified. I turned my head left and right looking from where the gunshot came from, and also looking if anybody’s hurt or what. Five guards went doing the same thing that I’ve been doing, also looking for the gunman and if anybody was hurt. But to no avail, they also found no one.

Since I found no shadow at all, I looked for my buddy, and before I even speak to him, he was already gone. At first, I didn’t know where to look for, but then I looked below my feet and there he was, lying on the floor, with blood on his shirt. I then realized that he was the one who got shot, and I was too preoccupied looking for the shooter, only too late to realize that it was my buddy who actually got shot in the middle of the resort.

I was too shocked with what I saw. I didn’t know what to do, even what to say, or worst, what to think. I was stunned with what I saw. And when I leaned on his head, I started crying, still not knowing what to do. He then began to utter a few words, I never understood clearly what he was telling me, but all I picked up was something like he wanted me to be what I should be, a good man. He wanted everything to stop, all the evil things we did to people, and all the things we thought should be doing. He wanted to be the one to help his family; instead, he became a black sheep. He doesn’t want me to be like that. He wanted me to change my ways and go back to my parents. And lastly, he still wanted me to be his friend… always. It was the moment that I realized that everything could turn out really well, only if I did the right thing. Just right then, he died. I started crying, tears flowing through my cheeks, and hate began to conquer me, hate for myself and for the one who did that to my friend. Fear and anger began to consume me. And I never knew what to do. It was an experience I’ll never forget, and the truth behind all of that did not even shocked me. I already knew who did that, and I’m pretty sure knew what to do about it…