CHICAGO DOWN (an excerpt from the draft chapter – St. Valentine’s Day Massacre)

-St. Valentine’s Day, 1929, S.M.C. Cartage Company, 2122 N. Clark Street, Chicago – Bugs Moran headquarters

…The five gunmen climbed into a police car that they stole previously. Two of the gunmen were dressed in police uniforms; the other three in regular clothes. The gangsters raced to the garage and came to a screeching halt in front. They crashed through the entrance brandishing two Tommy Guns, two sawed-off shotguns, and a revolver.

That’s how the story was reported…

“Police raid! Up against the wall. Up against…”

But who they encountered when they ran in was different from who the lookouts witnessed go into the building. Or were they? The gunmen did not have an answer, in fact, they did not even get to form a question as the target group in the garage was all over the place. Crawling on the ceiling, clinging on a wall. Almost in unison, the rambling dead turned to them and snarled…

The gunmen: Fred “Killer” Burke, John Scalise, Albert Anselmi, Joseph Lolordo, and Rudy Valle stopped dead in their tracks for only seconds. There was no time to take in the nightmare-like scene.

“What the hell!” Killer Burke yelled out. “Shoot!” The massacre was wild and gory as the four more experienced shooters opened fire. “Aim for the head,” Killer yelled.

Killer Burke had seen this before.

Young Rudy backed away in disbelief to the far wall, cowering down. The whole scene was too much for the nineteen-year-old to take in. Each of the seven monsters received ten to fifteen bullets to the head and torso as the only outside witness, the dog, barked and howled, struggling against his tethers, trying to free himself.

Killer and the gang flew out of the building, not noticing they left Rudy still slumped against the wall.

“Where’s that kid,” Killer said.

“Who cares?” Albert responded.

“I do, you jackoff. You want Capone to kill ya?”

Killer and John ran back into the building to find Rudy shaking in the corning, staring at the dead men.

“Rudy. What the hell,” Killer grabbed him up, shook him and pushed him out the door.

“C’mon, kid,” John said as he ushered him into the squad car. They drove several blocks before ditching the car and splitting up for safety and anonymity.

Copyright 2018 Wanda Paryla