He glances my way, and I tip my head. I got his back, and he’s got mine, that I don’t doubt for a second. We pull our Smith & Wesson EZ slides free. It’s hard as fuck shooting when you’re riding like this, especially at night, but with the amount of practice we’ve had over the years, we’ll hit our marks. The EZ slides make it that much more convenient to shoot when riding as well. They may not be pretty shots, but they’ll make contact, and that’s all we need to throw them off.
We take our shots at the back two riders, then we both move to shoot the man in the middle. They teeter, swerving to maintain control, and we keep shooting. Eventually, they fall like we knew they would. We veer off to the far sides to avoid their bikes and bodies falling. It’s gory, blood and bike parts scraping along the two-lane highway. A truck comes racing down the opposite lane, passing us without a thought. I watch in my rearview mirror as he isn’t fast enough to realize the carnage laid out on the road ahead of him. He slams into the mess, and the truck flips.
“Fuck,” I swear to myself. Innocents aren’t supposed to get hurt in the middle of this shit. It’s partially my fault why that person could be lying dead or close to it, and I can’t stop to check on them. If we get caught right now, we’re all going down for fucking homicide and drugs... hell, probably much more. First-degree murder doesn’t sit well in my gut, but I have no choice but to keep riding. This is why I’m alone in my life—I don’t deserve anyone or happiness. I bring chaos wherever I roam, and in return, I’m alone. Always so fucking alone and forever wishing for what I can’t have. I never get the chance to hold onto peace for too long. It’s like an elusive drug I crave and can never have a strong enough hit to satisfy me.
More fallen bikes and riders litter the road from Viking and Torch, but I swerve around the dead bodies and wrecked metal. Zeus and Saint can’t get the trucker to stop, the semi powering through anything in its path. I hit on my helmet until the link system engages, then I begin shouting. “Get the fuck out of the way!” I yell at Viking and Torch. “Driver’s gonna fucking mow you over, brothers. Move! That engine’s not governed!”
They fall back, making Zeus and Saint do the same. There’s so much noise from everything, my head feels like I’m going insane. The rush of adrenaline fuels me to stay alive, and then I notice every small detail like I’m in slow motion. We’re not. However, it’s the opposite. Everything’s moving far too fast for us to control it as we’d planned. The driver’s window lowers, and the nose of a shotgun pops out. I’m not the only one yelling in our coms, but now it’s all four of us that are behind and knows what’s about to go down.
Viking falls back while Torch shoots at the passenger side. The truck begins to swerve, and Viking shoots out a few of the middle tires. You can still drive the truck, but it’s going to fuck with it. He speeds up, and the shotgun goes off. The driver isn’t fucking around, and he nearly clips the prez. Zeus loses his patience and rides out wide enough to shoot the driver’s arm. The shotgun falls out the window, and the dude must realize it’s over for him. His door opens while the truck’s going full speed ahead, and the crazy fucker jumps. His body makes a sick smack when he hits the pavement.
I don’t think, just react. I haul ass up next to the truck, set my cruise control, and leap from my bike onto the semi. I’m the most athletic and limber one out of these nutcases, not that it’d hold them back from trying to do the same thing I am. I manage to get into the truck before it completely veers off the side of the road. Quickly, I turn the wheel as I’m climbing inside, rock and debris spraying out everywhere from it hugging the shoulder. I slam the door shut, watching the rearview mirror as my motorcycle becomes scrap metal.
“This is quickly turning into a nightmare,” I mutter to myself, shocked I haven’t given myself a stroke yet.
A whimper comes from behind, and I glance toward the noise. A naked woman is tied and gagged, strapped to the floor.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” I shake my head. She whimpers again, and I wince. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not the bad guy in this, I promise. You’ll be okay, no one will hurt you.” Unless the brothers decide she’s a liability and put her in the ground. I concentrate on stopping the semi.
Viking pulls up beside me, brows raised. “Motherfuckin’ show off,” he shouts.
I shrug. It had to be done. “There’s a bound woman in here.”
“Well, fuck.” He shakes his head.
“My thoughts too. I need to go back for my bike. Cops can’t know we were here.”
“Bet.” He nods, and they slow down to flip a bitch, heading for my bike. I do the same, much slower once I reach a four-way with enough room. I pull to a stop and hop out, reassuring the chick I’ll be back and to remain calm. It does nothing, and she still sobs, frightened. Poor thing. I may have been the reason the truck flipped a ways back, but I’ll do my best to make sure the woman isn’t hurt as well.
“Your bike is toast, brother,” Zeus mutters with a shake of his head. “Damn shame, it was a nice ride.”
No big deal, I’ll grab another. I don’t say as much, these fuckers don’t know my bank account status, and I like keeping it that way. “Help me stick it in the back.” Saint moves to the truck, opening the doors while all of us walk to the trashed motorcycle. This is going to suck, but with these jack-diesel motherfuckers, we’ll get it moved.
Viking glances around our circle, threatening, “Anybody lays down this metal before I give the order, I’ll chop your motherfucking hand off. You feel me.” Our chins jerk as we surround my scrap of ruined metal. On his count, we lift as one with a collective grunt. Any weak motherfuckers, and we wouldn’t be able to carry it without fucking our bodies up. Saint lowers the ramps behind the truck, and we use it to lay the bike on, then move to push it up and into the back of the semi’s trailer.
“All right, we good to hit the farm?” Mercenary asks as he straddles his bike. Viking hops into the back and roots around in some of the boxes.
“It’s here, brothers, the motherfuckin’ jackpot. We’re about to make some cash tonight. Load up. Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he orders as he jumps down. Saint helps him shut the doors, then they’re back on their motorcycles.
I climb into the truck once more, starting it as the woman behind me whimpers. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I told you I’d be right back, and you wouldn’t be hurt. I was telling you the truth. I’m going to take you somewhere safe.” I’d untie her, but I think she’ll flip the fuck out. I don’t need any more complications while I’m on the road in this truck. Prez didn’t tell me what to do with her, so I guess she’s staying right where she is until I find out what I should do. Maybe she can go with the Russians. She’ll be out of our hair, and they won’t hurt her.
I make the turn-off to the pig farm surrounded by my brothers. As soon as the truck stops at the barn, I hop out and open the back doors. We work together to unload my bike as the rest of the brothers who remained behind move to load up the rest of the drugs we’ve been storing in the cellar.