We’re standing by the front door, smoking, and I just got done commenting on how the sun may be gone, but the heat isn’t. A meeting is to take place soon and brothers are huddled around in groups.
“Oh, shut the fuck up,” I answer and check my phone for at least the thousandth time since I called the motel this morning. Still no missed calls notification.
“She’ll call,” Blaze says. “And if she doesn’t, she’s Ace’s woman’s friend, isn’t she? You’ll see her again.”
“Yeah, but that means I’ll have to wait for all that to happen. And I want her now,” I purposefully say it in a whiny voice, and it gets me the expected scoff from Blaze.
“I know you really mean that,” he says.
“Yeah, I really do.”
“Too bad you gave your word as a man, not a little bitch,” Blaze counters and I can’t argue with that either.
“All right, gather round,” Rook’s booming voice echoes from the cavernous room that dominates the bunker just by one the main entrance.
“Is it time?” Ink asks. He’s standing a few yards from us, talking to a couple of guys I don’t recognize.
“It’s time,” Blaze confirms and the message quickly travels to even the most remote of groups enjoying the fresh and cool evening breeze.
Knots start forming in my stomach and my blood seems to be flowing faster and hotter through my body, carrying an acid-like tang. It’s on. We’re about to go into action and get this job done.
Inside, Cross and Rook are standing in the center of the room and we file in, forming a half-circle around them. There’s about one hundred of us here. The Roadside Sinners MC has around 180 members. That math doesn’t sound right to me, but I trust that Cross knows what he’s doing. He hasn’t led us astray yet.
He clears his throat and silence falls.
“Here’s how it’s going down,” he says, his voice echoing off the walls. “We’re teaming up with Road Knights MC for the rest of the job.”
A few of the brothers exchange questioning glances, but no one grumbles or otherwise makes it know that they don’t agree with this turn of events. The level of absolute loyalty that Cross inspires among the Devils never ceases to amaze me, even after three years of riding with them.
“We’ve cut off the snake’s head, the snitch is gone, and now we just gotta tie up the loose ends,” Cross continues. “As the Knights have suffered great injustices at the hands of the Sinners, it is only fitting that they take part in what needs to happen next,” he motions for someone to come forward. It’s the two guys who were talking to Ink earlier. One of them’s younger, about Ace’s age, and the other wiry and much older, though the family resemblance is there.
“This is the president of Road Knights MC,” Cross says, pointing at the old guy. “And this is the vice-president, Ink’s brother. We’re gonna go at the Sinners together, but they’re taking the lead. You’ll each be assigned a role, and I expect you all to be ready to ride by midnight tonight. As I know you will be. None of you have let me down in the past, and I know you won’t let me down now.”
Voices of assent and approval are raised, and I join them. Cross’ speech was short and to the point, as it always is. He’s not a man of words, but of action. And my blood is pure acid now. Midnight can’t come soon enough. I’m gonna prove to Cross that his trust in me is not misplaced.
By midnight I’m lying in the tall, dry grass of the field surrounding the Sinner’s compound. Flashes of the night I almost died saving Brenda are trying to overpower my mind, but I’m struggling to keep them out. I can literally feel Blaze’s indignation of the two of us being given this menial task of staking out the back wall of the compound and making sure none of the Sinners approach from this side. Or cops for that matter, since we can’t be sure that the president and the men who died with him were the only snitches talking to the feds in that club.
Pointing out the fact that ten more of our brothers have this exact same task tonight didn’t put him in a better mood. We’re lying near the only door in the back wall. There’s a narrow path leading from the door straight across the field. It’s about wide enough for a big man on a big chopper to ride comfortably, and it comes out ends along a country road that connects to a highway. Me and Blaze and hidden in the tall grass on either side of it nearest the door, just far enough to be out of sight, but close enough to jump out and get rid of anyone trying to exit or enter through that door.
The rest of the brothers are scattered in the grass surrounding the wall. Our orders are to stay close to give each other backup should the need arise. As far as I know, no one is watching the entrance to this path from the country road. It’s obviously an important target, so I don’t know what Blaze is so pissed off about.
So far, no cry’s been raised and there has not been any kind of heightened police presence that we’ve been able to detect. The whole time that Ace was inside, getting cozy with the Sinners, we’ve been out here following around any and everyone that their president came in contact with. We also kept a real close eye on the cops.
It’s as quiet as the grave back here, not even the hissing of the grass can be heard since the wind has died down and the air isn’t moving. I can smell the dried-up earth, the lone flower among these dried up weeds and I hope to hell there aren’t too many rattlesnakes around here. But there probably are.
Up high in the sky, I can hear a rumbling like thunder, but the sky is a uniform dark blue, stars so bright they’re blinding. Helicopter? But they don’t go that high, I’d be able to see the lights. Thunder? I sincerely doubt it’s rained here in the last decade or two. A plane? That’s most likely.
The Knights are setting bombs.
It made me nauseous hearing that plan. I hate bombs. The least you can do before you kill someone is to look them in the eye. I wanted to ask if they plan on killing all the club whores along with the guys, but Blaze was onto me and gave me the death stare, which told me then and there that our long friendship would be over for good if I stuck my neck out on this. So I didn’t.
No harming women and children. That’s always been a rule in our club and as far as I know Cross has always enforced it. He wouldn’t make us a part of something that goes against it now. Right? I sure as fuck hope so.
The trouble with simple stakeouts like this one is that they’re boring as fuck and your mind wanders. Most of my jobs for the club so far have been stakeouts just like this, so I’ve gotten used to the boredom and learned how to keep it at bay. All my mental focus tricks, like keeping my mind clear of everything but the door I’m supposed to be watching, are failing me tonight.
The fact that my phone keeps buzzing with the motel’s number isn’t helping. It keeps lighting up in my pocket, and I want to pick up so bad I can taste it. The worst part is, I can’t turn off the phone because it’s the only way the others will be able to reach us as I’m the designated message relayer for our group. I don’t whether to call that an honor or punishment right now.
The hissing of the grass grows louder and louder, and there’s no accompanying wind to explain it. The sound is coming from the far end of the field, rolling towards us like a wave, and my first thought is that a bad storm is approaching. But it hardly ever rains here and there’s no wind. Yet the hissing keeps coming.