by J. C. Allen
I came to the final block before I would turn. I stopped, taking a chance to collect myself. I was ready for whatever happened. I had my two pistols on my belt, ready to do damage and defend myself.
And, most importantly, I had what I needed to alert Roost when it was time to get things started—and hopefully over with instantly.
I made sure that it was easily in my jacket’s pocket, the better so it wouldn’t look obvious when I pressed it, and took a deep breath. Revenge for all who have fallen. A fight to make this world a better place. Not just for me, but all my loved ones.
With that, I revved my bike and turned the corner.
And right off the bat, I saw the first sign that this was, as expected, not going to go according to plan.
Instead of seeing just Falcon, I saw Falcon and about a half-dozen of his most trusted men standing behind them. Falcon, wearing a white coat, white pants, a black button down, and sunglasses, stood with arms crossed. I dismounted my bike about thirty feet away from them, killing the engine.
I made it a point of looking at the men behind Falcon, pointing to them with confusion on my face, and looking annoyed.
“You know, I don’t recall that this was part of our agreement,” I shouted. “If memory serves me right, you said you’d come alone.”
Falcon gave that cackling laugh that legitimately drove me crazy, and I wanted to run up and punch him in the face for it. The other men behind him, too, also started laughing. I had to remind myself that I had men all over the place, hiding in plain sight.
I hoped.
“I did come alone,” Falcon said. “It just so happens that my men chose to come of their own accord, and who was I to stop them?”
“Who was you? I don’t know, the leader of the whole fucking club, the man who kills his own for pleasure, the one who could make them suck your dick at a moment’s notice even if they’re straighter than an arrow?”
Falcon merely smirked at me condescendingly, a smug smile on his face, feeling so sure that he was going to win. Maybe so. But I have a few tricks up my sleeve.
“That is where you are wrong, Derek,” he said, saying my name slowly, taunting me with it. “You see, I simply allow my men to do what they believe is best for the Black Falcons. I am too important to be on the ground everywhere. Why do you think it was that whenever you went to my four bases, I was never there?”
“Nice try, but I know you were at the church. You said as much on your phone call.”
Falcon’s face momentarily twitched, as if realizing he was caught in his own lie. It was immediately replaced by that wicked, sinful smile, but it had happened, and there was no denying that I had just flustered Falcon a tad. If that was enough to make him just off-kilter enough in this battle, then so be it.
“I observed from afar, but you are a fool for thinking I would actually position myself in such a way as to get caught in the fire.”
“I am no fool. I just assumed you were more than a coward.”
Again, that flicker of resentment.
For perhaps the first time that I could ever remember, I began to realize that Falcon was not this conniving, wildly brilliant man who happened to use his intelligence for evil. In fact, he was a man who had probably spent years honing his skills in speaking, presence, and “leadership” to create a mask of a man who controlled people, who was beyond reproach, and who could persuade all.
But in reality, he was just an old, fat fuck with no hair and an expanding waistline that had a temper issue and a massive, overly sensitive ego.
“In any case, Derek Knight, as you can see by the numbers here, you are outnumbered about seven to one.”
I crossed my arms in defiance, and then, to further taunt him, stretched out and yawned as if bored.
But I had really done that to get a view of the buildings and windows around us. It was difficult to see anything in the windows, but the rooftops all had about three or four Falcons on them, rifles trained upon me. I realized there that I might actually die, but at least all of the Falcons would too. Forgive me, Eve.
But I’m not ready to call it quits just yet.
“Because of this disparity, and because I am no fool when it comes to business, I am going to request that we renegotiate the terms of our settlement.”
“Hah!” I said with a loud, obviously fake laugh. “Really? You think I am going to approve that request? Request denied!”
This time, Falcon didn’t show any signs of annoyance, perhaps because he really did believe he had the advantage in numbers. If so… then he doesn’t know about our trap.
We might just have a shot at ending this once and for all.
“That wasn’t a question, Derek. That was an order. I would have thought you, being the incompetent fool you are, having to rely on your men and your fag for instructions, would understand that.”
I smiled, but I had to admit that got to me a little bit. Still, as long as no guns were being fired, I could get more information out of Falcon. It might yet reveal a gambit of his, or an unwelcome surprise that I would have to account for.
“Tell me, then, oh mighty Falcon, what are the new terms of this plan?”
“It’s simple. Both you and the girl are now coming with me.”
I laughed at that, but this time, it wasn’t forced. I would sooner give up my entire brotherhood in the Saviors than I would Eve. I’d buy Eve a plane ticket to Italy, never to be seen again, before I risked putting her against the Black Falcons.
“You’re out of your fucking mind, Falcon,” I growled. “Not going to happen.”
“Is that so?” he said, sneering. Then, as if to make a point, he removed his sunglasses. Just like they all said, those eyes looked so creepily soulless. Falcon wasn’t a human; he was a monster in the shape of a human. “Here is what you don’t know, Derek. We are going to have her. In fact, you coming out here was part of the deal in making that happen.”
Oh shit.
Instinctively, I turned, but the sound of guns rising to face me quickly put a halt to that.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Falcon said with a snort. “You can run, but we have multiple shooters targeting you right now. The odds of any one of them hitting you may not be perfect, but the odds of at least one of them hitting you are all but perfect. So, shall we continue?”
“Fuck you, Falcon,” I said, but I turned back around, absolute disgust on my face.
I could already see it now. I hadn’t wanted to put Eve back in the line of fire, but Falcon knew this. Or, he knew that either she would come with me and she’d be an easy kill, or she’d stay behind and the Falcons could get her at my apartment without much resistance.
“We will have her here probably within half an hour,” Falcon said, making a show of checking his watch for the time. “And when that time comes, Derek, both of you will come with us. And we will have a fun game.”
“Tell me,” I said. “I can’t wait to hear about this game.”
He snorted and then let out his cackling life.
“We’re going to flip a coin. You are heads, since you always think with your head, and Eve is tails, since she is always so eager to give up her tail.”
I swear, the amount of focus and self-control it took not to charge ahead, not to commit certain suicide, not to end my life by trying to get into a useless fist fight with Falcon was beyond anything I’d ever had to ensure.
“Whoever wins will then be given fifteen minutes to make a choice. Who will live? Will it be them, choosing to save their own hide, or their loved one? And, lest you think you have any loopholes, if the person who has to make the decision refuses to make one, we’ll just kill you both anyways.”
Visions came back to me of all of the people that Falcon had killed.
My father.
My mother.
My brother.
My wife.
My unborn child.
It didn’t even come to mind that he had also destroyed one of the last remainders of m
y family legacy, the shop. The memories of those five were more than enough to make me burn with a fire that no water, no lake, no ocean could put out.
And now he would put me in a spot where I’d have to chose between death and my woman?
And not just your woman. Most likely another unborn child.
“I have a better fucking idea, Falcon,” I growled, taking steps forward.
The men raised their hands, but Falcon, still crossing his arms, motioned for them to stand down. He didn’t look the least bit perturbed.
I meant to stop about ten feet before him, close enough that I could spit on him if I aimed well enough, but instead, my feet took me all the way up to him, so close that I could breath on him. I told myself not to touch him, lest I wanted a hundred bullets riddled through me, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t try some scare tactics.
“You and I have a fight to the death. Fists only. No weapons. And whoever wins gets control of the other’s club.”
Falcon laughed, not bothering to prevent the spittle and his putrid, hot breath from hitting my face. When he finally finished, he looked at me, raised an eyebrow, and snorted.
“Hit me, then.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Hit me,” he said. He made a motion that led to all of the Falcons lowering their fists. “Hit me. And see how little it does.”
I smelled a serious trap. I knew that one hit was enough to get some Black Falcon to pull the trigger. This was… this was what Falcon wanted.
I took two steps back, even with my fists balled up.
“That’s what I thought,” Falcon said, snorting. “You’re a coward to the end, Derek Knight. You talk a big talk, speak about defending your family’s honor, but in the end, without your fag and your men, you are nothing but a man who cannot follow through.”
I’d heard enough and could see that the time for talking was nearing an end. I put my hands over my chest, felt for the pager with my right hand, and pushed the button I needed to.
“Now, my patience runs thin, Derek,” Falcon said. “I told you on the phone I am not a man of infinite patience. You know now that within the hour, Eve will be back in my grasp, a prisoner of us once more. You know that even with that in mind, she may yet live if you choose to let her live. You know that if you try and fight us here, you will die, and then we will kill her anyways. So then, the question becomes—what will you do?”
I needed time, I knew it. Roost was far enough away that he’d need at least two minutes to get here. But I didn’t even know if I had two minutes.
“What will I do?” I said, pondering the question. “What will I do, indeed? What would you do, Falcon?”
“The fuck?” he said, noticeably taken aback by my sudden shift in personality—perhaps a bit too sudden. I had to get meaner.
“What would you do if the person you hated most came to you and said that they were going to force you to choose between suicide and murdering your loved one? Hmm? That seems like a rather impossible question to answer, doesn’t it? What would you do if the fat, bald, old, ugly fuck who can’t get laid without threatening to kill the girl said that he was going to kill your girl?”
“Watch your mouth, Derek,” Falcon snapped.
I smiled back, though I used the opportunity to take a few steps back, as if afraid of what Falcon might do.
In reality, I wasn’t afraid of what he was going to do. But I was afraid if I didn’t, something else might hurt me.
“Watch my mouth?” I said, again taunting him. “Why would I ever do that? When have I ever done that? In fact, thanks for the suggestion, let me remind you of the ways that you fucked up. You killed my father. You killed my brother. You should’ve been able to easily take out the Saviors by then. And yet, here you are, the entirety of your club concentrated here. Hmm? What’s that say that you had hundreds of men, several sites, and loads of weapons, drugs, and girls, and now you’re down to, what two dozen men total, maybe? Maybe, if we’re counting you as three?”
“Derek, I swear to Christ,” Falcon said.
“Oh, and that’s not even the best part,” I continued. I knew I was pressing my luck, but I had no choice but to press it. If I didn’t continue on, then they would get me, Roost would run into a hailstorm of bullets, and the whole plot was screwed.
Either way, I was relying an awful lot on Lady Luck.
And that said nothing about wherever Eve was at that moment.
“The best part is that you had two girls, whose names, by the way, are Eve and Tara, not whores as you call them, who brought you in plenty of revenue. But then, they got wise and escaped. Oh sure, you thought, I’ll just replace them. Seems simple enough. Except not only did you not do that, they have played perhaps the biggest role in taking you down. So now tell me, what does that say about you? What does that say that you lost to two girls?”
“Enough!” Falcon roared. “Derek, you have ten seconds to come forward, hands up, and let us take you in. Ten!”
Roost, you really had better be hurrying the fuck up.
Men, you better be able to help in this spot.
“Nine!”
Eve, wherever you are, you better be fucking fighting until you collapse. Don’t let them take you.
Don’t let them take you and our child.
“Eight!”
Dad, I’m sorry. But I’m not ready to join you yet.
I think.
“Seven!”
Dustin, I hope I’m making you proud. I hope I’ll make you even prouder in about seven seconds.
“Six!”
Mom. Sorry you ever got dragged into this.
“Five!”
To the Saviors… you can start firing at any moment now. I’d actually appreciate it.
“Four!”
I quickly looked to the side. There was an alley way I could duck into if chaos broke out and I needed cover for safety.
But that was looking more and more like a rapidly fading pipe dream.
“Three!”
Well, fuck. This was the end.
“Two!”
Maggie. Please forgive me. I love you.
“O—”
A roar from the side street came as a Harley came into view, followed by splays of machine gun fire. I looked to the right just in time to see Roost roaring into view, with Tara on the back of the bike, both of them sporting rifles as they sped ahead to the collection of Black Falcons.
And then, on top of that, all around me, chaos broke out—but it wasn’t directed at me.
Gunshots erupted from the windows, from the shops, from every angle except the roof.
The Saviors had done it. They had come—
A bullet nearly grazed me.
“Shit!” I shouted as I ducked into the alleyway.
I quickly grabbed my two pistols, looked up, saw a man smiling at me, and shot him dead.
That was too fucking close for comfort.
But really, this whole thing needed to be too close for comfort to work.
I peered around the side of the ledge and saw Roost and Tara swinging in. Roost parked the bike in front of us, using it for cover, and patted me hard on the back.
“Was just waitin’ to make a grand entrance,” he said.
“Next time, don’t make me think I’m going to die!”
“Never had a doubt!” Tara said. “Hey, Falcons! I’m about to clip your wings and watch y’all die!”
I leaned over the edge of the bike, fired off a few shots, and repeated the process.
The entire street corner turned into something of a war zone. Bodies dropped dead everywhere. Bullets flew through the air. If anyone wasn’t affiliated with the two clubs and was nearby, they probably thought that a foreign country had invaded the US. Screams, gunfire, and barked orders consumed all of the air.
The place felt like hell, but it was the kind of hell I welcomed—most especially considering how close I’d been seconds before to getting shot, quite literally less than two seconds away from
my death. In some ways, then, this wasn’t hell so much as it was a second chance.
“Ahh, shit!”
Roost quickly pulled back, bleeding at the shoulder.
“Shit, fag!” Tara yelled. “You OK?”
“Goddamn fuckin’ Falcons,” Roost grumbled, wincing severely. “But… I am Roost, motherfuckas!”
With great force, he stood, unleashing a torrent of bullets upon whoever had been stupid enough to shoot at him. I watched in awe as he didn’t seem affected in the least by the gaping wound, which at least was trickling blood and not spurting it.
Finally, he fell back, catching his breath.
“You know if you pass out, you’ll never hear the end of it,” I said.
“Funny, Derek,” he said. “But I ain’t yer every day garden Savior.”
As if to prove a point, he went back up once more, firing again. I heard the screams of Black Falcons from the other side and watched in awe. Only after about five seconds—far longer than was normally safe—did he come back down, exhaustion on his face.
“I see now why my dad had you as the sergeant in arms.”
“Yeah, I’da have to kick yer ass if ya took that away,” he said with a smirk.
The battle raged on, bullets flying everywhere and Black Falcons falling. It seemed so certain that we were going to win, especially because we had the element of surprise—contrary to what they had expected—and the element of skill. About the only thing they had was the tactical position of being on the roof, but that was mitigated in part by us being in the nearby windows.
It seemed like with only the men I saw that the battle should have ended much sooner than it did. But it just kept going… and going… and going.
Clearly, the Falcons had more men than I expected.
“We might run out of ammo at this rate,” I said, realizing that there was no might in that.
“Well, shit,” Tara said. “Clearly, I did not anticipate this.”
Though sarcastic, I could hear the concern in her voice. She, too, was running low on rounds, and if we didn’t hurry up and knock them out, the Falcons, seemingly having brought more resources, would overwhelm us.
“Any ideas, Roost?”
“I—”
