Wars in the Streets (Fiction)

A friend of mine requested a story of something like this, so I decided to humor him

"There they are", said Jonathan. "they're the guys we're looking for Briggs". Jonathan were pointing towards two young men in hoods and baggypants.. He were sure that they'd be the guys you'd go to, to get some drugs in this little craphole of a town. So Jonathan and Briggs approached them. The 2 young men, was heading into an alley up ahead, it was late, and only a few streetlamps in that area were functioning, so it had rather dark atmosphere.

Jonathan upped his pace, it was too dangerous to follow them into the alley, where there were no lights at all. "Come on Briggs, we need to hurry. I'm sure it's these guys", Briggs grumbled, "I don't like this man. It's too dangours with just the two of us". "Oooh shut up, we need this", Jonathan snarred at him.

Just before the 2 men in hoodies entered the alley, Jonathan finally caught up with them, with Briggs following a few meters behind. "Hey guys, hold up!" Jonathan said with a loud voice, and they turned around. "Do you have any weed we can buy?". Looking more closely, Briggs thought they looked too young, to be the guys they where looking for. But he wasn't able to say anything, before one of them answered. "You cops or something?", "yeah they look like cops don't they", the other one replied. "We gotz nothing to say to cops, leave us alone", he continued.

Jonathan, being a buff guy, bald, and almost 2 meters tall, took a deep breath. He needed a few seconds to force himself to relax. "Naaw, man. We're just looking for some weed, you know. We want to get hiiigh tonight!"
The kids looked at each other, "you smell of pigs, we don't want anything to do with you. Leave us alone.!" one of the guys said.

Jonathan was getting angry. He grabbed the kid, clenched his fist, drew back his arm and punched him in the stomach. "Sell me some fucking weed, brat. Or I'll teach you not to call me a pig ever again". The kid fell to his knees, grasping and heaving to get his breath. "what the fuck are you doing man" his friend yelled, and pushed Jonathan away. "He's a fucking kid, and we don't want anything to do with you". Jonathan looked at him and smiled. "Just sell me some weed, and we'll leave".

The kid, having caught his breath again, whispered to his friend, "on my sign, you run. Run as fast as you can, and don't look back". He turned towards Jonathan, "why do you think that we'd sell you weed, when you assault us, dumb pig", he pushed his friend towards the alley and yelled RUN! And both of them started to sprint off. "Jonathan, DON'T!" Briggs yelled, but it was too late. Jonathan had pulled his concealed firearm, - it was a standard issue Glock, like all law enforcer are awarded, for completing their training successfully. - He pulled the trigger, and emptied a clip into the alley.

"What are you saying, Briggs? You gonna let him disrespect us like that?", he said, while turning on his flashlight and walking into the alley. "I know man, but we needed them alive...." Briggs didn't really have an issue with Jonathan shooting at the kids. He just wanted to get to the people supplying them. And he figured the kids would have told them eventually.

• As they walk into the alley, they hear someone heaving for breath from behind a dumpster. One kid was sitting down barely conscious, with the other one in his arms. Tears were running down his cheeks, Jonathan had shot him in one of the lungs. and you could easily see that it wouldn't be long before he were dead.

"Who's supplying you?" Briggs asked. "Tell us before it's too late" - The kid, barely conscious, forced himself to stutter, "We.. do...n't eve... have.... fuck.. pigs..." as he closed his eyes, and stopped breathing. Jonathan kicked him, "hey, don't you fucking die on me, you fucking liar. Who's supplying you!!". But he were already dead.
They searched the bodies, and they seached, and seached, "where's the fucking weed Briggs?" Jonathan desperately asked, "where the fuck is it?!". Briggs looked at him and sighed. There was never any weed, you were wrong.

To be continued