Dimas Salaberrios - Street God: The Explosive True Story of a Former Drug Boss on the Run from the Hood—and the Courageous Mission That Drove Him Back

P OP! P OP-POP!

As several shots rang out, I crouched behind a dumpster. Then I glanced behind me and caught Black Seans eye. What were we doing in the middle of a shoot-out? This was serious stuff, not exactly what Id expected when Black Sean had approached me earlier in school.

Hey, Black Sean had said, grinning. My eyes focused on the serious gold jewelry around his neck. Wanna go get some money?

He didnt have to ask twice. I followed him without a backward glance. We caught a city bus at the corner and got off at a stop in South Jamaica, Queens, where we spotted Jamal, a kid I knew to be a drug hustler.

Hey, come on, Jamal called, moving down the sidewalk in a hurry. We gotta go.

Black Sean and I didnt know what was happening, but the excitement in Jamals voice sent a surge of adrenaline through my bloodstream. A couple of other guys joined us for whatever was going down. Then Jamal crouched behind a dumpster in an alley and peered around the corner. What was he doing? Were we in the middle of some kind of drug deal, or what?

Before I even realized Jamal was carrying, he pulled out a gun, held it in both hands, and started shooting at a guy across the street. What?

Instinct had told me to duck, so I crouched behind Jamal. My heart pounded. I barely had time to think before he yelled, Lets go, so off we went.

I glanced over my shoulder, looking for a body in the street, but I didnt see one. Good. I wanted no part of killing.

Next thing I knew I was standing with Jamal, Black Sean, and some other guys. A dealer named Abdul stood with us, and he grinned at Jamal. Way to go, he said. Then he looked at Black Sean and gestured in my direction. Whos this guy?

Black Sean looked at me. Slim.

You wanna deal, Slim? Abdul asked me.

Of course I did. Dealing meant money, and money meant everything on the street. Abdul must have figured that if I had the courage to run with Jamal, I had what it took to be a dealer.

I nodded, and Abdul grinned.

Give im a package, he said to one of the other guys. Then he narrowed his eyes at me. This is how it worksyou dont sell to nobody you dont know. You keep the stuff hidden, you take the money, and then you go get a capsule and hand it over. If you follow my rules, youll be okay. His smile broadened. Be smart, dude, and youll be cool.

He walked away, and another kid handed me a bag of crack cocaine. Then I grinned at Black Sean.

I felt the weight of the drug bag in my hand.

It was a lot lighter than my schoolbooks.

Ever since Id been old enough to recognize the signs of success, Id wanted to be a dealer. And there I stood among dudes with guns, attitude, and a supplier. I was on my way... and I was only fourteen years old.

A couple of months later I found myself lying on the sidewalk with blood gushing from my head. I felt the roughness of concrete beneath my hands and heard a throbbing in my ears. What had happened this time?

I pushed myself up to a sitting position. A group of my friends stood around me, but most of them were silent and still.

Jamal came over and glared at me. Yo, you stupid, son. Why would you mess around with Abduls money, trying to flip it? You dumb stupid, you ought to be happy you aint gettin capped.

I pressed my hand to my head and felt a swelling lump over my temple. Howd my head get like this?

Jamals mouth twisted in a smirk. Abdul smashed his phone into your skull till it exploded and then stomped his boots on your head.

I ran my hand over my jaw, which felt swollen, and tasted the metallic tang of blood mixed with dirtdirt? Oh yeah, Abdul had tried to kick out my teeth once I was down. As my boss, hed felt it his duty to administer a little discipline to a wayward worker.

Somehow I managed to stumble into a Korean grocery store, where someone finally looked at me with compassion. The owner hooked me up with some rubbing alcohol and a pack of Band-Aids so I could clean my wounds. As I braced myself for the alcohol burn, I realized I might have to patch the Band-Aids together to stop the bleeding.