Detroit Ex-Convict Learned She Had HIV—Then Allegedly Slaughtered Her Ex and His New Family
…
The constant fatigue which she attributed to the stress of her release did not go away.
Strange rashes appeared on her skin and at night she was tormented by fever.
Medical care in prison was minimal and no one paid attention to such symptoms.
“Mom, I need to see a doctor.
” “I’m not feeling well,” she told Zora at breakfast on the fifth day after her release.
“Of course, daughter.
The district clinic will see you for free if you don’t have insurance.
I’ll write down the address for you,” her mother said, looking with concern at her daughter’s gaunt face.
The district clinic was a 20-minute walk away.
Melanie waited in line for almost 3 hours before seeing the doctor, a young female therapist named Dr. Campbell.
“Tell me about your symptoms,” the doctor asked, studying the questionnaire Melanie had filled out.
constant fatigue, fever in the evenings, skin rashes, and also I was recently released from prison where they didn’t monitor the health of inmates very well.
Melanie decided to be honest.
Dr. Campbell examined the patient carefully, listened to her lungs, and took her blood pressure.
I need to order some blood tests.
There are a few things we need to rule out.
The results will be ready in 2 days.
Those two days dragged on agonizingly.
Melanie felt worse and worse, but tried not to show it to her mother and brother.
She helped Zora around the house, cooked dinner, watched TV, but her thoughts kept returning to the upcoming test results.
On April 3rd, Melanie returned to the clinic.
Dr. Campbell greeted her with a serious look and invited her into her office.
Melanie, I need to tell you the test results.
Unfortunately, the HIV test came back positive, the doctor said cautiously, watching her patients reaction.
The world seemed to stop.
Melanie looked at the doctor, unable to believe what she had heard.
Is this Is this a mistake? Maybe we should retest.
We ran the test twice to be sure.
The result is positive, but this is not a death sentence.
Modern medications allow you to live a full life.
The main thing is to start treatment as soon as possible.
Dr. Campbell handed her several brochures with information about the disease.
Melanie took the brochures mechanically, not understanding what was happening.
Where did it come from? How could this have happened? HIV is transmitted through unprotected sexual contact, sharing needles, and transfusions of infected blood.
You need to think about your partners and warn them that they need to get tested, the doctor explained.
Derek.
That name immediately popped into Melanie’s mind.
Derek Holloway was her last boyfriend before prison.
They had been together for almost 2 years, and it was because of him that she got into trouble.
Derek was dealing drugs, and when he was almost caught, he convinced Melanie to rob a store to get money for a lawyer.
He promised to marry her as soon as she got out.
He promised to wait.
Melanie walked home in a days.
Her mother and Quinton immediately realized that something serious had happened.
Melany’s face was as white as chalk.
“What happened?” “What did the doctor say?” Zora asked anxiously.
Melanie slowly sank down onto the sofa and covered her face with her hands.
Telling the truth was unbearably difficult, but there was no other way.
I have HIV, she said quietly.
A heavy silence fell.
Zora pressed her hand to her heart and Quinton cursed under his breath.
“My God, sweetheart, how did this happen?” her mother whispered.
“Derek, it could only have been Derek Holloway.
I didn’t have any other men before prison.
” Melanie felt rage rising inside her.
That bastard knew and didn’t tell me.
Because of him, I went to prison and now this.
Wait, sis.
Maybe he didn’t know himself.
Quinton suggested cautiously.
Didn’t know we dated for 2 years.
If he had HIV, he should have known.
He should have told me.
Melanie’s voice grew louder.
The next day, she decided to find her old friend, Nila Richmond.
Nila worked at a dry cleaners near downtown.
They had been friends since childhood, and if anyone knew what was going on in the neighborhood while Melanie was in prison, it was Nila.
The Quick and Clean Dr.y Cleaners was located in a small shopping center.
Melanie saw Nila through the shop window.
She was standing behind the counter sorting through clothes.
Her friend had hardly changed.
Same curly hair, same bright smile.
Melanie.
Oh my god, is that you? Nila ran out from behind the counter and hugged her friend tightly.
I heard you got out.
How are you? How are you doing? Nila, I need to know something about Derek Holloway.
Do you know what’s going on with him now? Melanie decided to get straight to the point.
Derek? Well, he got married about 3 years ago to some nurse.
I think her name is Kira.
They have a child, a son.
They live in East Oakland in that new neighborhood.
Nila looked at her friend curiously.
“What are you going to meet up with him? Where does he work?” Melanie continued to ask, ignoring the question.
“At Pacific Logistics Warehouses as some kind of manager.
” “Melanie, what’s going on?” “You seem strange,” Nila said concerned.
“Nothing.
I just want to talk to him.
We didn’t part on good terms.
” Melanie tried to appear indifferent, but inside she was boiling.
So Dererick now has a family, a wife, a child, a job.
He lives a normal life while she has HIV and 8 years in prison.
Justice in this world was definitely limping on both legs.
That evening, lying in her old childhood bedroom, Melanie made a decision.
She would find Derek and talk to him.
She would find out the truth about how she got infected and then she would see what to do next.
Pacific Logistics was located in an industrial area of Oakland.
Tomorrow she would go there.
On April 4th, Melanie woke up with one thought in her mind.
Today, she would see Derek.
She had been unable to sleep all night, replaying the upcoming conversation in her head.
What would she say to him? How would he react? Did he know about his HIV status when they were together? The industrial area of Oakland was a halfhour bus ride from her home.
The Pacific logistics warehouse complex covered a huge area, several large hangers, a truck parking lot, and an administrative building.
Melanie stopped in front of the main gate and waited.
She remembered that Derek was always an early bird and arrived at work early.
At 7:00 in the morning, the area began to come to life as employees arrived one after another.
Melanie looked closely at their faces, but Dererick was not among them.
Time dragged on slowly.
Melanie bought coffee at a nearby cafe and strolled down the street, but she didn’t stray far from the warehouses.
At 8, she finally saw a familiar silhouette.
Derek was getting out of a black sedan near the administrative building.
He had changed.
He had gained weight.
His hair was thinning and wrinkles had appeared around his eyes.
But his gate remained the same.
Confident, slightly brash.
He was wearing a business suit and carrying a leather briefcase.
The spitting image of a successful manager.
Melanie waited until he disappeared into the building, then approached the security guard at the gate.
“Excuse me, I need to see Derek Holloway.
It’s a personal matter, she said, trying to look as innocent as possible.
And who are you? We have a pass system.
The guard looked suspiciously at the woman in the worn jacket.
I’m his cousin.
I’ve come from far away to visit him.
Tell him Melanie is here.
She lied.
The guard dialed an internal number.
Derek, some cousin of yours is here to see you.
Melanie.
Okay, I see.
come down to the gate.
5 minutes later, Derek appeared at the gate.
When he saw Melanie, he stopped dead in his tracks.
His face turned pale and his eyes widened with surprise and fear.
Melanie, what? How did you get here? You were supposed to be in for another 2 years.
His voice trembled.
Parole.
Good behavior.
Melanie stepped closer.
We need to talk, Derek.
Seriously, talk.
I I’m at work right now.
Maybe some other time.
He looked around nervously.
No, Derek.
Now it’s important.
Find 10 minutes.
Melanie’s voice took on a steely tone.
Derek glanced at the security guard who was watching their conversation with curiosity, then nodded.
“Okay, let’s go to the cafe across the street just for a minute.
” They crossed the street and sat down at a table by the window in a small cafe.
Dererick ordered coffee.
Melanie declined a drink.
She wanted to get to the point as quickly as possible.
Derek, I recently got tested.
I have HIV, she said quietly, but clearly looking him straight in the eye.
Derek almost choked on his coffee.
What? HIV? Melanie, that’s that’s terrible.
But what does that have to do with me? You’re the only man I was intimate with before prison.
We dated for 2 years.
You infected me, you bastard.
The rage she had been holding back the whole way began to break through.
Wait, wait.
I don’t understand what you’re talking about.
How could I have HIV? I’m healthy.
Dererick waved his arms, trying to distance himself from the accusations.
Don’t lie to me.
You knew about your status and didn’t say anything.
Because of you, I went to prison.
And because of you, I’m sick now.
You ruined my life.
Melanie’s voice grew louder, attracting the attention of other patrons.
Melanie, calm down.
I understand you’re upset, but I really didn’t know anything.
Maybe you got infected in prison.
All kinds of things happen there.
Derek tried to speak in a convincing tone.
In prison? Do you think I’m stupid? HIV isn’t transmitted through the air or through dishes.
I know how infection happens, and the only way I could have gotten infected is from you.
Melanie clenched her fists.
Dererick glanced nervously at his watch.
Listen, I understand how you feel, but I really need to get to work.
I have an important meeting in half an hour.
Maybe we can continue this conversation another time.
What meeting? With whom? With your new wife? Melanie asked venomously.
You know about Kira? Derek asked in surprise.
Of course I know.
I know you have a family now, a nurse wife, a son.
You live in East Oakland.
Everything’s fine with you, right? And I spent 8 years in a cage, and now I’m living with HIV,” Melanie said, every word dripping with hatred.
“Melanie, I’m not to blame for what happened to you.
” “Yes, I suggested robbing the store, but you made the decision yourself.
No one forced you.
And as for HIV, I really didn’t know anything.
If I had known, I would have told you.
Derek tried to justify himself.
You didn’t know anything? When was the last time you got tested? When did you last get tested for HIV? Melanie continued to press him.
I well, a long time ago.
Many years ago, I don’t remember.
Everything was fine then, Derek replied uncertainly.
Many years ago.
Did you get tested before you met me? Melanie leaned across the table.
I don’t remember exactly, but I’m telling you everything was fine.
Dererick became increasingly nervous.
I didn’t infect anyone.
And anyway, how do you know you got it from me? Maybe you had other men.
Derek went on the offensive.
Those words were the last straw.
Melanie stood up abruptly, knocking over her chair.
Other men? I was in a women’s prison for 8 years.
Before that, I only dated you for 2 years.
You’re the only one who could have infected me.
Do you understand?” she shouted, ignoring the other customers in the cafe.
“Melanie, please calm down.
Let’s resolve this peacefully.
I’m willing to help you with treatment, find a good doctor, pay for medication.
” Derek tried to take her hand, but she pulled it away.
Help? You’ve decided to help now? Where were you when I was on trial? You promised to wait.
said you’d marry me as soon as I got out.
But a year later, you were already walking down the aisle with someone else.
Tears of rage streamed down Melanie’s cheeks.
Melanie, I I couldn’t wait 8 years.
I had to move on with my life.
Kira is a good woman.
She helped me change.
Become a better person, Derek said, his voice growing quieter.
Become a better person? So, you were a bad person with me, but you became a good person with her.
Maybe you had HIV with me, but it disappeared with her.
Melanie’s voice was laced with sarcasm.
Enough.
I’m not going to listen to this anymore.
I have a family, a job, responsibilities, and you you’re just trying to dump your problems on me.
Find someone else to blame.
Derek stood up and headed for the exit.
Wait, we’re not done talking.
Melanie shouted after him.
We’re done.
Don’t come to my work anymore and stay away from my family, Derek said and left the cafe.
Melanie was left alone, trembling with rage and humiliation.
He didn’t even apologize.
He didn’t even admit his guilt.
What’s more, he threatened her and demanded that she stay away from his family.
She slowly left the cafe and wandered to the bus stop.
All the way home, Derek’s words echoed in her head.
Stay away from my family.
So, he was afraid.
Afraid that she could ruin his happy life.
Her mother and Quinton were waiting for her at home.
Zora was cooking dinner and her brother was watching TV.
Seeing Melanie’s face, they immediately understood that the meeting had not gone well.
“Well, sis, did you talk to that bastard?” Quinton asked, turning off the TV.
Melanie sank onto the sofa and recounted her meeting with Derek in detail.
She told them about his denials, his attempts to shift the blame, and his threats to stay away from her family.
“He’s a bastard, not a man,” Quinton cursed.
“He infected you, sent you to prison, and now he’s threatening you.
He needs to be beaten up.
” “Quinton, don’t say that.
Violence doesn’t lead to anything good,” Zora interjected.
But her voice was uncertain.
Mom, you don’t understand.
That guy ruined Melany’s life.
Because of him, she spent 8 years in prison, and now she’s sick and he lives like a king.
Family, job, money.
Where’s the justice in that? Quinton paced around the room, waving his arms.
He said he has a family.
His wife Kira and his son Melanie said quietly.
So what? That doesn’t make him any less of a bastard.
On the contrary, it means he could have infected them too, Quinton remarked.
My god, are they sick, too? Zora gasped.
In the evening, when Zora went to bed, Javari Payne, an old friend of Quinton’s, came to visit them.
Javari was a thin man with sunken cheeks and nervous movements.
He smelled of cheap vodka and cigarettes.
“Quint, why the sour faces? Did someone die?” he asked, settling down on the sofa.
Worse.
My sister got out of prison and found out she has HIV and it’s her ex’s fault.
Derek Holloway.
Remember him? He used to deal drugs.
Quinton explained.
Holloway? That fat piece of Of course I remember him.
Now he works in warehouses.
He’s a family man.
What are you going to do about him? Javari looked at Melanie with interest.
I’m not going to do anything.
What can I do? He’s rich.
He has a family, a job, and I’m an ex con with HIV.
Who would believe me? Melanie said wearily.
People might believe you, but you won’t be able to prove anything.
He could have contracted HIV anywhere, anytime.
Javari agreed.
He paused, sipping beer from a can.
But there are other ways to restore justice.
What ways? Quinton asked, alert.
Well, we can ruin his life.
His job, for example, or scare his family.
A couple of calls to his wife, a letter to his work, and that’s it.
His reputation is ruined, Javari said casually.
But Melanie heard something dangerous in his voice.
“Jawa, what are you talking about? What calls? What letters?” Quinton didn’t understand.
It’s simple.
call his wife and tell her that her husband has HIV and infected his exgirlfriend or write an anonymous letter to his workplace saying that their manager is hiding a dangerous disease.
People will panic and he’ll be fired, Javari explained.
Melanie thought about it.
The idea was tempting.
Let Derek feel what it’s like to lose everything because of HIV.
What if he reports it to the police? She asked.
What would he report? That someone told the truth about his illness.
He admitted himself that he’s being treated.
That means he’s sick.
Javari smiled.
But he said he’s healthy now.
Quinton objected.
Healthy? You don’t recover from HIV, brother.
You can only control the disease with medication, so he’s still a carrier, Javari explained.
They talked late into the night, discussing various options for revenge.
Javari suggested increasingly sophisticated ways to harm Derek.
From damaging his car to planting drugs on him.
You know what? Javari said suddenly, finishing his third can of beer.
All these little things are nonsense.
We need to take radical action.
Meaning, Melanie asked.
Kill him, Javari said simply.
And his family too, so they don’t suffer.
A heavy silence fell.
Quinton laughed nervously.
Jawa, have you lost your mind? Murder? We’re not murderers? Who said murderers are born? Sometimes life forces you to become one.
Javari remarked philosophically.
That bastard ruined your sister’s life.
She’s still young.
She could have had children, started a family, and now what? Who will marry her knowing she has HIV? He stole her future.
Melanie listened and felt something dark and evil rising in her chest.
Javari was right.
Dererick had stolen her future and now he was living happily with his family while she was doomed to loneliness and illness.
Let’s say you’re right, she said slowly.
But how? We’re not professional killers.
They’ll catch us on the first day.
You don’t have to be a professional.
The main thing is to plan it right.
Javari leaned forward, lowering his voice.
You can’t kill them at home.
The neighbors might hear, and there are cameras everywhere.
You have to lure them out of town and deal with them there.
How do we lure them out? Quinton asked.
Intimidate them.
Send a threatening note.
Something like, “We know where you live.
We’re coming tonight.
This is your last chance.
Get out of town with your family or you’ll all die.
” Usually cowards like that run away right away, Javari explained.
What if they don’t run away? Melanie asked.
Then we’ll wait.
Sooner or later, he’ll get scared and leave.
We’ll keep an eye on the house, and as soon as they leave, we’ll follow them.
We’ll catch up with them somewhere on the highway, far from the city, and deal with them, Javari said so casually, as if he were planning a trip to the store.
“Do we have any weapons?” Melanie asked.
I have an old pistol and Quinton has a shotgun if I’m not mistaken.
Javari nodded.
Yes, it’s in the garage.
I hid it after my last arrest, Quinton confirmed.
Melanie stood up and walked to the window.
It was dark and quiet outside.
Ordinary people were sleeping in their beds, unaware that a murder was being planned somewhere.
Or maybe they weren’t so ordinary after all.
Maybe everyone had their own dark secrets.
Okay, she said without turning around.
Let’s try it.
But first, a note.
Let’s see how he reacts.
If he gets scared and runs away, then we’ll take action.
It’s a deal, sister, Quinton said happily.
That bastard will finally get what he deserves.
Javari rubbed his hands together with satisfaction.
We’ll start preparing tomorrow morning.
We’ll write the note, check the weapons, and make a plan.
The day after tomorrow, we can get down to business.
They discussed the details for another half hour.
Then Javari went home.
Melanie went to bed, but sleep did not come.
Thoughts of murder swirled in her head.
She never thought she was capable of such a thing, but Dererick had pushed her to the limit.
He had ruined her life and didn’t even apologize.
What’s more, he threatened her.
Maybe Javari was right.
And sometimes justice could only be restored by force.
The law wouldn’t help.
It was impossible to prove Dererick’s guilt in infecting her.
That meant the only option was vigilante justice.
Toward morning, Melanie finally fell asleep and dreamed of Derek.
He was kneeling in front of her, begging for forgiveness.
She held a gun in her hands and decided whether to shoot or not.
On the morning of April 5th, Javari showed up at the Delane’s house with a bag of groceries and a bottle of whiskey.
He looked more sober than usual and had even shaved.
Apparently, the upcoming task had cheered him up.
“Well, are you ready for action?” he asked, settling down at the kitchen table.
Melanie nodded.
She had thought about her decision all night and was now firmly convinced that Dererick had to pay for what he had done to her life.
Quinton also looked determined.
Although Melanie noticed a nervousness in his movements.
First the note, Javari began, taking out a sheet of paper and a pen.
I’ll write in block letters so my handwriting won’t be recognized.
What shall we write? Something simple and scary, Melanie suggested.
Like, we know what you did.
Tonight, you and your family will die.
You have one last chance.
Run away from the city.
Not bad.
I’ll add a couple more threats for good measure.
Javari began writing in large block letters.
Derek Holloway, we know what you’ve done.
At midnight tonight, we’re coming to your house.
You, your wife, and your child will all die a slow and painful death.
You have one chance to save your family.
Take them and get out of Oakland before sunset.
If you stay, you’ll regret it.
That’s a bit harsh, Quinton remarked.
There’s no other way to scare him.
Cowards like him only understand the language of force, Javari explained, rereading what he had written.
Zora was at work so they could talk openly.
Melanie didn’t want to let her mother in on their plan.
She would only get upset and try to talk them out of it.
How are we going to deliver the note? Melanie asked.
Simple.
I’ll go to his work, tell the security guard I’m a courier, and ask him to give the envelope to Holloway.
I’ll say it’s from a law firm or someone else official.
They’ll deliver it without opening it, Javari explained.
What if there are cameras at the entrance? Quinton worried.
I’ll wear a cap and keep my head down.
Besides, to them, I’m just a regular bum.
They don’t pay attention to people like that.
And if anything happens, I’ll say I was hired for 20 bucks to deliver the envelope, but I don’t remember who hired me because I was drunk.
Javari chuckled.
After breakfast, they drove to Quinton’s garage to check the weapons.
The shotgun was in working order and had enough ammunition.
Javari’s pistol looked ancient, but it was also in good working order.
I need a weapon, too, said Melanie.
I have another gun, but it’s at home.
We’ll stop by and pick it up, Javari promised.
At 1:00, they drove to the Pacific Logistics Warehouse.
Melanie and Quinton stayed in her brother’s car while Javari went to the gate.
10 minutes later, he returned with a satisfied smile.
I delivered it.
The guard didn’t even ask any questions.
He said Holloway would receive the envelope within an hour, he reported.
Now all they had to do was wait.
They drove to Javari’s house to pick up the second gun for Melanie, then bought more ammunition and returned home to prepare for the evening surveillance.
At 5 in the evening, they took up position on a neighboring street from where they had a good view of the Holloway’s house in East Oakland.
It was a small one-story house with a neat lawn and a children’s swing set in the yard.
“There were two cars in the driveway, Derek’s black sedan and a white hatchback, apparently belonging to his wife.
” “They live well, the bastards,” Quinton muttered, looking at the house through his binoculars.
Javari took occasional sips from a flask of whiskey, but he didn’t get drunk.
He knew he would need to be precise in his movements that evening.
Melanie sat silently in the back seat, checking her gun and running through the upcoming events in her head.
At 6, Derek’s black sedan appeared near the house.
He quickly got out of the car and almost ran toward the house.
He got our message.
Javari smiled.
Let’s see what he does now.
Through the windows of the house, they could see lights coming on in different rooms.
Derek was clearly looking for something or gathering his things.
About half an hour later, a young black woman with a child in her arms came out of the house.
It was Kira, Derek’s wife.
She looked alarmed and was saying something quickly to her husband.
“He’s telling his wife about the threats,” Quinton suggested.
Judging by their behavior, they’re getting ready to flee, Javari added.
Indeed, over the next hour, the Halloways carried bags and packages out of the house several times, loading them into a sedan.
The child was crying.
Kira was nervous, and Dererick kept looking around.
“Cowards,” Melanie said contemptuously.
“They didn’t even go to the police.
They just decided to run away.
They can’t go to the police.
” Dererick used to deal drugs.
He probably thinks it’s one of his old debtors, Javari suggested.
At 8:00 in the evening, the Holloways finished packing.
Derek started the car and the family left the house.
The sedan drove down the street toward the highway.
“Let’s follow them,” Javari commanded.
Quinton started the engine, and they began their pursuit, keeping a safe distance so as not to attract attention.
Derek was driving fast, clearly eager to leave town as quickly as possible.
“Where is he going?” Melanie asked.
“Looks like north.
” “Maybe to relatives in Sacramento or further,” Quinton replied, keeping his eyes on the road.
They drove out of Oakland and onto Highway 80.
It was already dark and traffic on the road had thinned out.
“The perfect time for action.
“We’re going to catch up with him now,” Javari announced, checking his gun.
Quint approached slowly.
Melanie, get ready to shoot at the tires.
Melanie’s heart was pounding like crazy.
She had never shot at people before, only at the shooting range for fun.
But now it was a matter of justice, of revenge for a ruined life.
Quinton stepped on the gas and the distance between the cars began to shrink.
Derek must have noticed he was being followed because he also sped up.
“He spotted us,” Quinton said.
“What do we do?” “Catch up.
We won’t let him get away,” Javari shouted.
The chase began.
Derek pressed the gas pedal, trying to pull away, but Quinton’s car was more powerful.
They sped down the dark highway at over 100 kmh.
“Get closer on the right.
Let’s try to push him off the road,” Javari ordered.
Quinton abruptly changed lanes to the right and began to catch up with the sedan from the side.
When the cars were side by side, he sharply turned the steering wheel to the left, trying to ram Derek.
Dererick managed to swerve, but his car skidded.
He struggled to straighten the trajectory, but had to slow down again.
Don’t let him recover.
Javari encouraged him.
The second attempt to ram the car was more successful.
Quinton hit the sedan’s rear fender, and it spun around on the road.
Derek tried to straighten the car, but it was difficult at high speed.
Now shoot at the wheels,” Javari shouted to Melanie.
She leaned out of the window and started shooting.
The first shots missed, but the third one hit the sedan’s rear wheel.
Derek’s car veered sharply to the side.
Javari also fired, aiming at the windshield.
One of the bullets hit its target.
The glass was covered with a web of cracks, and Dererick was apparently wounded because the car began to sway on the road.
“He’s wounded.
Finish him off,” Javari yelled, continuing to fire.
At that moment, Dererick’s sedan lost control, veered sharply to the left, broke through a metal fence, and flew off the road into a deep ravine.
The sound of the impact and the screech of metal echoed in the night silence.
“Stop! Stop!” Melanie shouted.
Quinton slammed on the brakes.
They jumped out of the car and ran to the edge of the ravine.
Below about 20 meters away lay the overturned and crumpled sedan.
Smoke was coming from under the hood.
“Are they alive?” Quinton asked.
“Let’s go down and check,” Javari decided.
They carefully began to descend the steep slope, clinging to bushes and rocks.
“It was very dark below, with only the headlights of their car above faintly illuminating the scene of the accident.
When they reached the sedan, they saw a horrific scene.
Derek was hanging upside down, strapped into the driver’s seat.
His face was covered in blood, his eyes closed.
Next to him, in the front passenger seat.
Kira was also hanging upside down.
Her neck was twisted at an unnatural angle.
“They’re dead,” Javari stated, shining his phone’s flashlight.
“What about the baby?” Melanie asked.
Quinton looked in the back seat.
“He’s gone, too,” Quinton said quietly.
Melanie felt her stomach lurch.
She had imagined Dererick’s death, but she hadn’t thought about the child.
The little boy was innocent of his father’s sins.
“Okay, it’s done.
” “Justice has been served,” Javari said matterofactly.
“Now we need to get out of here before someone notices.
” They began to climb back up.
Melanie’s hands were shaking and her mind was blank.
She had avenged Derek, but she felt no satisfaction, only emptiness and nausea.
When they reached the road, they headed for the car.
And then something happened that no one expected.
A police patrol car was slowly driving down the other side of the road.
When they saw their car parked on the side of the road, the police stopped.
“Damn, cops!” Quinton cursed.
Two police officers with flashlights got out of the patrol car.
One was an elderly gay-haired man, the other a young African-Amean.
“Good evening.
What’s going on here?” asked the senior officer, shining his flashlight on the trio.
“Nothing, officer.
” “The car stalled.
We’re trying to start it,” Quinton tried to lie.
The police officer shown his flashlight on the broken fence and the skid marks on the asphalt.
“What’s this? Did someone drive off the road? We don’t know, officer.
When we arrived, the fence was already broken, Quinton continued to lie.
The young police officer approached the edge of the ravine and shown his light down.
“Frank, there’s a car down there.
Looks like a serious accident.
Call for backup and an ambulance,” the senior officer commanded and turned to the trio.
“You guys stay right here.
You’ll need to give statements.
” At that moment, Javari suddenly pulled out a gun and shot the senior officer.
He fell, clutching his shoulder.
“Run!” Javari shouted.
They scattered in different directions.
The young police officer, recovering from the shock, took out his service weapon and started shooting.
The first shots missed, but then he took better aim.
Javari ran straight down the road and became an easy target.
A bullet hit him in the back and he fell face down on the asphalt.
Quinton tried to run into the woods but tripped over a route and fell.
The cop caught up with him and shot him in the leg.
“Don’t move.
Hands behind your head!” he shouted.
Melanie ran down the slope away from the road.
She managed to hide in the darkness between the trees.
She could hear the cops shouting behind her and Quinton moaning in pain, but she kept running.
Her heart was about to jump out of her chest.
Her legs were buckling.
Her side was aching, but she didn’t stop.
She had to get to the nearest village and try to hitch a ride.
Melanie walked along forest paths all night, losing her way several times.
But by dawn, she reached a small town.
There she took the first bus heading towards Oakland.
On the way, she thought about what had happened.
Derek was dead.
The goal had been achieved, but his wife and child were also dead, and Quinton was wounded and most likely arrested.
Javari was also probably dead.
Was it worth it? Melanie didn’t know.
Justice had prevailed, but at what cost? She arrived in Oakland at 9 in the morning.
Zora was at work.
The house was empty.
Melanie quickly gathered her few belongings, took the documents and money she had hidden in her room.
She left a note for her mother on the kitchen table.
Mom, I had to leave.
Don’t look for me and don’t worry.
I’ll be fine.
Take care of yourself, your Melanie.
Taking her bag, she left the house and headed for the bus station.
She had to leave California as quickly as possible.
Maybe she would go to Texas or Florida.
Somewhere there, among strangers, she would try to start a new life.
Walking through the streets of her hometown, Melanie thought about her brother.
Quinton had done this for her and she had abandoned him.
But what else could she have done? If she had tried to help him, she would have been caught along with him.
This way, she had a chance at freedom.
At the bus station, she bought a ticket for the first bus to Las Vegas.
There, she could get lost in the crowds of tourists and decide where to go next.
The bus was leaving in an hour.
Melanie sat down in a cafe and ordered a coffee.
The morning news was on TV.
Suddenly, she saw familiar faces on the screen.
“A tragedy occurred last night on Highway 80,” said the announcer.
“A family from Oakland was killed in a car accident.
38-year-old Derek Holloway, his 29-year-old wife Kira, and their 5-year-old son Malik.
According to preliminary data, the accident was caused by loss of control at high speed.
The police do not rule out the possibility that the car was being pursued by unknown asalants.
Two suspects were detained at the scene.
Melanie finished her coffee and headed for the bus.
One chapter of her life had closed.
Now a new one was beginning.
A life on the run, and no one knew how long it would last or how it would end.
The bus pulled away, carrying her away from her past and into an uncertain future.
The California landscape flashed by outside the window, but Melanie didn’t see it.
She was thinking about her brother.
Why hadn’t she stopped to help him? But now it was too late.
Melanie cried, covering her face with her hands.
Everything that had happened was a mistake, and only now did she realize it.
