Carlo’s boots hit the ground with a loud clap when they struck the concrete. He adjusted the black duffle bag strapped to his shoulder, then broke out into a full sprint in the direction of the train. He zipped past his corner, racing through the street dodging cars along the way along with any pedestrian that happened to walk in front of him. Three city blocks later he’d made it to the above-ground station.  

The stairway to the station was down a narrow sidewalk next to a project building. It had a front courtyard that cut to the other side of the block and contained a small jungle gym and rose garden. Normally it buzzed with activity. That day it was uncomfortably quiet. It seemed everything had gone silent in the wake of Beanie and Bigs’ passing. Carlo didn’t slow down but he did look around to see if anyone had come into the courtyard or was right behind him. He saw no one. At least there’s that. He thought. 

Carlo continued down the narrow block, slowing his pace into a light jog.  He neared the stairs but grew too focused on the approaching station. He didn’t notice the figure rushing towards him from out under the jungle gym. The entrance of the courtyard happened to be in front of the base of the stairs. It was there that the figure came into view.  A walk-by - when someone decides to get in close, quickly unloading their firearm before stepping off. This was about as common a tactic in The Bronx as any, and many young men died this way. Especially, in this neighborhood, with  Carlo's very own tools of destruction on the street. 

Our villain on the run turned to his would-be attacker, realizing he was already past the point of no return in terms of distance. Carlo didn’t look at his assailant’s face. Instead, focusing on his hands. Carlo twisted the gauntlet when he saw the metallic glare of the rising of the barrel come into view. The wide metal top of the gauntlet slid down in front of the knuckles forming a small shield. The blast was loud. A .45, Carlo thought as the bullet quickly ricocheted off his hand striking the man in the abdomen. Blood touched his face and a young man hit the ground.  Carlo looked down and his gut tightened.

The round went right through him, leaving a massive hole under his chest. Blood was already pooling beneath him. Red-lipped and his eyes widened in disbelief at how quickly it all happened. He tried to press into his center but his hands kept sliding, with his arm any sort of strength. Tears started to roll down his cheeks while moaning in a defeated panic. He met Carlo's distraught gaze and attempted to speak. But the only thing he could muster was “Do...do some-”,  he stopped, being too light-headed to articulate.  Carlo, whose face had hardened in that moment, forced down a hard swallow and cleared his throat.

 “I...I’m sorry Kai...it is what it is.” is all he said, turning away and racing up the stairs to the sound of an oncoming train.  Carlo just kept moving, running into the turnstile, his right hand expanding. He pushed against the locking mechanism forcing it to turn the opposite way. It fell to the floor just as the train pulled into the station. Behind him, he could hear people shouting at the foot of the stairs. 

“He's up there!” a man called. Carlo power walked towards the front cars and slipped into the seat near the front door, away from the windows by the conductor box. The doors closed a few seconds later while the sound of men cruising outside and banging on the windows could barely be heard over the loud hum of the train pulling away from the station. 

Back downstairs, a group of men and women had formed around Kai.    

“Ah shit, look. I told you we all should have jumped in at once,” a young man said with a varsity jacket. An older woman with colored twisties snorted. 

“You think I'm fighting a supervillain? Fuck outta here. I was shocked the kid even offered to take the shot. I wasn’t gonna do it.” Another man had crouched down next to Kai who was still fearfully muttering in his final moments. The man leaned in to listen before turning back to the others. 

“He's saying he's a cold man.  Homie’s donezo. Yo, what's ya name lil man? Lil man...” 

“Freeze...Freez-” Kai repeated, his face a wet mask of red, that grew more still by the second. Carlos had escaped, for now. He had left his home, departing into the heart of the hungry city, whose mouth he knew drooled at the sight of his hide. A dead man walking as all roads lead to the end of the line. Back on the train, Carlo had tipped the brim of his hat down, his body gently rocked by the swaying of the car along the tracks. He hoped no one noticed him shivering.