Rebels & Lies (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 1)

by Cotton, Brian

  Kaspar still struggled with his helmet. He tried to get it as comfortable as he could. What was with these things, anyway? He thought about ditching the damn thing, but then remembered his last adventure on a motorcycle with her. He gave up trying to be comfortable. He just hoped that if there was to be a wreck, the discomfort would be worth it. Kaspar down, took a seat on the bike, and then wrapped his arms around her waist. A strange feeling overtook him as he did, though he was careful not to go too far up this time. Krys revved the engine a couple of more times, all the while Kaspar could smell something through his helmet. It smelled of lavender, and it was nice, really nice in fact, to the nostrils.

  “Like he said, he’s just looking out for you.” Kaspar said.

  “And, that’s awful sweet of him, but I’m a big girl.”

  Kaspar tried to change the subject. “What kind of bike is this?”

  “It’s a Speed Triple,” Krys replied. “Fine beast, ain’t she?”

  “Speed Triple, well that’s a cute…”

  Without warning, the motorcycle flew forward. Krys then gripped hard on the brake. The tires squealed on the pavement below, which sent her riding partner slamming into her back. While he was in mid-air for the brief second, he could feel his throat trying to escape. All the crazy woman in front could do was laugh.

  “You think that’s funny?” Kaspar demanded.

  “That,” Krys said between laughs, “is why they call it a ‘Speed Triple’.”

  “You almost gave me a heart attack. You’re insane!”

  “That’s what you thought of me when we first met, right?”

  “You haven’t done anything to change my mind, either.”

  She continued to laugh. “We better get a move on. We don’t want to be out when John gets back. It’s a forty-five minute trip into town.”

  “I just hope he doesn’t see us on the road.” Kaspar replied.

  “He won’t, I take a different route.”

  “Oh, I can’t wait to see this. You go in a lot?”

  “Yeah, lots of times. I’ve got to get away from this place, you know?”

  “I hear that.”

  “Let’s get going, then.”

  Twenty-Nine

  The black Speed Triple rocketed out of the back road and onto the main road into the city. They were just outside city limits, so Krys finally let loose of the accelerator. Kaspar still had his arms wrapped tight around her waist. The whole trip up, he had no time to think about how stupid of an idea this was. His only thought, as the bike went in excess of one hundred miles per hour, was what would happen if one of the tires blew.

  They reached the checkpoint into the city which was guarded by four Agents with assault rifles in hand. Krys slowed the bike to a stop behind the three cars in front. The drivers and passengers all showed their credentials and were allowed admittance. Krys reached into her jacket and retrieved two ID cards and held them in between her right index and middle fingers.

  “Oh, shit.” Kaspar said.

  “Don’t worry,” Krys replied. “I’ve got your ID card. We’ll be fine.”

  The Agent to the right made a forward motion with his hand. Krys inched the bike closer then handed over the two cards. She took off her helmet as the Agent pulled out a scanner. The red lasers inside swept over both cards. He waited for a response from the machine.

  Kaspar’s heart began to pound. What did she mean it would be okay? What ID card was she talking about? The Agent looked to him and motioned for Kaspar to take off the helmet. He did so, with a struggle, then the Agent stared him down. The scanner beeped twice, he looked down and read the response. It was the gas chamber, for sure, Kaspar told himself.

  “Here you go, miss,” the Agent said. He handed the card back. “You two be safe on that thing. And, remember, we are in condition yellow, so no gasoline will be sold until sun down.”

  “I understand,” Krys smiled. “Have a great day.”

  “Move along, citizen.”

  The two riders slid their helmets back on. Krys revved the engine and the bike moved forward again, this time with discretion. She drove the bike around a couple of blocks until they arrived at a little place with a sign that read “The Keystone” in bold, crimson letters. Krys pulled the bike around back and cut off the engine. She stood and took her helmet off. Her soft black hair blew along with the wind as she shook the strands loose. Kaspar took off his helmet and hung it on the right handle bar.

  “What the hell was that?” Kaspar demanded.

  “What the hell was what?” Krys asked, walking in front.

  Kaspar picked up his pace to get beside her. “My ID card? How did we get past security? When did I have a fake ID made?”

  “Shhh, keep your voice down. You aren’t supposed to know about that because we’re not supposed to be here, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s right. There’s probably a good reason for that, too, right?”

  “Cry me a river, we’re fine.” Krys replied.

  “How’d we get past that check point?”

  “The USR keeps a database on all of their ‘citizens’. Thanks to The Committee and Robby’s expertise, we’ve been able to wipe our slates clean, so to speak.”

  “But…”

  “Enough questions. I came here to relax, not babysit.”

  Krys pushed open the back door to the little restaurant. Kaspar never came here, although he had seen the sign outside several times. Inside, there were news reports on all of the TVs, per the usual. The Consul would get on there and spout out some propaganda, and like always, Kaspar didn’t give a shit what he was saying. The dim light gave the place a nice, warm feeling, though it was nearly deserted. He remembered seeing a lot of bikes parked out front when he’d walk by, the few men inside were all bikers, just the place for a woman like Krys.

  There was a tall table in the back corner by the window that Krys picked out. It took a step at the bottom of the stools to reach the seats. She fumbled around with her leather jacket and sat it against the back of the chair before she took her seat. Once at the top, she started to play around with her hair again, Kaspar messed around with his jacket and managed to slip it off from his seated position. He let it rest on his thigh.

  Krys sort of hiccupped like she was going to be sick. “Excuse me.”

  “You okay?” Kaspar asked.

  She didn’t answer. She hopped her tight ass off of the seat and jogged towards the lady’s room. What was wrong with her? Maybe all that wild riding on the bike finally caught up to her. Served her right.

  Kaspar took a moment to get more familiar with the surroundings. There was nothing but leftovers in here, old men whose glory years had long since passed. Even the bartender was one of them. He kept reaching underneath the bar and handing out what looked like carbonated apple juice to the old men. What the hell was this place? All the men laughed and acted like they had no sense of self control.

  One particular man seemed to be eyeing Kaspar down. He had a long, white beard, stained yellow at the lips. His sleeveless leather vest revealed tattoos to which the ink started to run with his old age. He had a fat lip and he spit brownish saliva on the ground, rubbing it in with his black leather boot. Animals, these leftovers seemed to be. It was men like him, and Danny, that caused Kaspar to think about what life must have been like before and it was nothing like the praises sung by Paxton. Did everyone live as animals back then?

  “What do you drink?” Krys asked from behind, a white hair piece in her mouth.

  Kaspar turned. “Are you all right?”

  Krys held the back of her hair in place with her left hand and then used her right hand tie the hair piece in. She let go and her hair fell into a pony tail. She looked up at Kaspar with a raised eye brow and walked over to her seat in front of him.

  “I’m fine. Drink?” she demanded once more.

  “What do they have here?”

  “What do you think they have? If you want, you try some of that old school stuff,
but I think it might be a little too crazy for you…”

  “Just get me a grape juice, then.” Kaspar said.

  “Okay, just wait here.”

  Kaspar leaned back in his chair and allowed himself a glance at Krys as she walked up to the bar. He felt uneasy, like that Boler guy, this being his first time in the city without Paxton to protect him. He glanced around and tried to put his mind at ease. He noticed Krys walking towards the table with two tall glasses, one with juice, the other with water.

  “You okay, man?” Krys asked. She slid the glass of juice towards Kaspar. “You look all uptight or something.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” Kaspar replied. “Just water for you?”

  “For now,” she winked. “Don’t want to get too wild right off the bat.”

  Kaspar laughed, “You sure about that?”

  “What, you want to see me get wild?”

  She did that thing with her eyes again. She opened them wide and Kaspar stared into the brown beauties, the light from the outside reflected off of the dilated eyes and they were now beaming. Kaspar could feel his face burn and he quickly looked down at his juice. He picked up the glass and took a sip.

  “How’d you learn to ride like that?” Kaspar asked.

  “From my dad. That was his most prized possession, that Speed Triple.” Krys replied.

  “Did he race or something?”

  “Something like that,” Krys paused and sipped at her water. “He was in a gang, actually.”

  “What kind of gang?”

  “The type of gang where he buddied up with other bikers. They rode around town together, had each other’s backs…and did some illegal stuff, too.”

  “What kind of illegal things?”

  “They ran guns, sold drugs, stuff like that. He used to bring me here all the time when I was a kid. I would just hang out, be one of the boys, you know?”

  Things about Krys were starting to make a little bit more sense. Kaspar just couldn’t understand how a woman with her features, her beauty, could have turned into such a tomboy. He tried to imagine what his own father was like, the more that she talked about hers. Was he a gun runner, riding around on a bike like Krys’s? No way in hell. His father was a coward. He’d take Krys in a one on one fight.

  “Is that why you like to be called ‘Krys’?” Kaspar asked.

  “I guess so,” she replied. “He just always called me that and it sort of stuck.”

  “What happened to him, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  Krys lowered her head before she answered. “He was gunned down. They allowed some guy, who turned out to be an undercover, into the gang. The USR stormed this bar one night…and they took everyone out.”

  “I’m…sorry.”

  “I come here all the time now. It makes me think about him.”

  “What happened to you after that? What about your mother?” Kaspar asked.

  “My mother died during child birth, it was always dad who took care of me. With him gone, I got put in one of the schools after they caught me wandering the streets alone. They tried their best to brain wash me with all their bullshit, but I knew better. My dad taught me better.”

  “Were…” Kaspar took a sip of juice. “You in a motorcycle gang, when John picked you up, that is?”

  “I was. My crew and I, we didn’t get involved in any big time illegal activity like my dad’s. Basically, we just stole food and credits and gave it to the poor. That’s how I came to know John…you met Margie, right?”

  “Sure did,” Kaspar replied.

  “I was on one of my runs that day, when I saw John. He told me what he was up to, told me he had been following me, and that he had a job for me. He offered me a chance to, as he put it, save this nation. I didn’t really care about the nation, but I did care about Margie and all the others I helped out every day. I left my crew and joined up with John. What about you?”

  “Me?” Kaspar asked. He took a big gulp of juice and placed the glass down.

  “Yes, you, how’d you get into boxing?”

  “Well, I just started to fight people, because I was pissed off at the world all the time. I learned about the underground from a buddy of mine. I met Danny and he took me under his wing. Said he saw a ton of potential in me and that I would win all the big fights.”

  “Good old, Danny,” Krys said. She raised her glass. “Always has something interesting to say.”

  “Interesting? He’s a perverted old leftover.”

  Krys chuckled. “He’s made comments to me before.”

  “He made comments about my mother…I can’t imagine what he would have said about you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Krys demanded. She slammed her half empty glass on the table and stared down Kaspar.

  “Well,” Kaspar stuttered, he searched his mind for a reply. “Uhhh...you know…just look at you.”

  “You think I’m just a piece of ass, don’t you?”

  Her once big, dough eyes grew small. Kaspar could feel his heart beating fast. He searched not only for something to say to her, but also for an answer as to what her problem was all of a sudden. She was an attractive woman, surely she’s been told that before, why the attitude?

  “No…I don’t…what I meant was…”

  Krys burst into laughter and pointed her index finger towards Kaspar. He looked dumbfounded back at her and a smile snuck up on his lips. The smile soon turned into laughter. The two laughed together for a moment and, suddenly, all seemed right with the world for just this one moment.

  “You should have seen the look on your face.” Krys said, finger still pointed, tears running down her soft cheeks.

  “I didn’t know if you were being serious or not.”

  “So…you like what you see, huh?”

  A light bulb went off. “Ha, you baited me into that, didn’t you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You didn’t know for sure, so you played me to see if I’d come out with it.”

  “I know what I’ve got,” Krys replied, her smile gone.

  “Really? I mean, it would make sense, I’m not judging you at all. You know, bringing me out here, all alone…”

  “I brought you here,” Krys said. She hopped off her seat. “To kick your ass in pool.”

  “I guess we better get going then.” Kaspar replied. He hopped off of his seat, as well.

  “You sure you’re ready?”

  “I should ask you the same question. Get your pen and pad ready, Miss Ortiz, school’s about to start.”

  “I’m all yours…” Krys said.

  They left their drinks at the table and strode towards the pool tables. Krys grabbed two cue sticks off of the wall, she handed one to Kaspar. She then took the rack that lay on the green carpet of the table and placed it in the middle. As she did, Kaspar rounded up all of the balls from the pockets.

  “What should I beat you in first?” Krys asked.

  “Pick any game you like.” Kaspar replied, he put the balls into the rack.

  “Okay,” Krys bit her bottom lip and looked towards the ceiling. “Eight ball it is.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  “You want to break?”

  “You’ve been the shit talker,” Kaspar replied with a smile. “You break.”

  Krys placed the cue ball in front. She then rubbed the square peg against the end of her stick for a moment before she lined up her shot. Her eyes focused solely on the target in front of her. Kaspar found himself unable to take his eyes off of her while she concentrated.

  She took another deep breath and was about to shoot when she felt something along her ass. She jumped at the sharp pinch and stood straight up. Kaspar had been too focused on Krys that he failed the see the bearded old man from earlier move in on her. Upon closer examination of his sleeveless vest revealed several blood stains at the left breast.

  “There some sweet ass in this place tonight, eh, sugar?” the biker asked, his smile revealed several missing teeth.


  “So sweet,” Krys replied, “it’ll rot the rest of your teeth out.”

  “That’s not polite.”

  “Hey, leftover,” Kaspar said. The biker looked him in the eye, the smile gone. “We’re just here to shoot around a bit. Leave us be.”

  The biker turned to Krys. “Who’s this?”

  “He’s my friend. Just please, leave us alone.”

  “I don’t think so, sugar. Not until you show me what you’ve got under them clothes.”

  “Sir,” Kaspar called, his face red with anger, he slammed his cue stick on the table. “Leave us alone, huh?”

  “You mind your own fucking business, super boy. I’ll take over from here. Fellas!”

  Kaspar looked around, three of the biker’s cohorts moved in to surround him. Why did he agree to come here? Of all the places to go, Krys picked a biker hangout spot. He continued to move his head around. The sound of a switchblade caused him to look towards the leader again. The animal moved in on Krys, who put her hands straight up in the air and backed up until her back hit the wall. There was going to be a fight now: the trick would be to make sure it wasn’t a fair one.

  The three men who moved in on Kaspar were too busy cracking their knuckles and grimacing through their rotten teeth that they were not prepared for what was coming their way. Kaspar reached forward and grabbed the white ponytail of the leader. He yanked back and chopped at the knife hand. He slammed the leader’s head against the fresh waxed surface of the pool table.

  Kaspar felt a sharp blow to his right side. Without looking, he spun and landed a hard right hook to that attacker’s cheek. The biker spit out blood before Kaspar landed another hook to the cheek, knocking him out.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see another biker take a swing at him. Kaspar ducked and landed a punch to the groin, followed by an uppercut, the force of which broke the biker’s nose. The attacker backed away, his nose now a geyser, and fell to the ground crying out in pain.

  The final biker moved in on Krys. She poised herself in a defensive position. She awaited the biker to make the first move. Before he could do anything, he fell to the ground in pain. When he fell, she could see Kaspar standing upright. He had shoved his knee into the biker’s back. Kaspar swore that he could hear a couple of vertebrae crack.