by J. C. Allen
He paused. He put his hand to his ear, and I looked at him with confusion on his face. What in the hell did he mean? Was he—
“Ya hear that?” he said. “That’s the sound of sweet, sweet victory comin’.”
“Huh?”
And then I heard it.
The sound of dozens of more motorcycles rolling in.
They drove by the alley we were in, but they were going slow enough that I saw what they were.
The Black Reapers.
“You put in a word, huh?” I shouted in triumph.
“I got connections,” Roost said sheepishly.
The gunfire continued, but now the Black Falcons were severely outnumbered, and our fears of running out of ammo were quickly laid to rest. Many fell from the rooftops, crying out in pain as they perished. A few ran.
But all were conquered in the end.
Finally, the gunfire ended.
“Clear?” I asked.
And then, as if to answer my own question, I heard Bones yell out “all clear!” from somewhere in the streets.
I stood up and walked around. It was a fucking mess—the city would have plenty of questions for us, I was sure, and we had to do everything we could. Roost’s bike had been shot to shreds, and it was something of a miracle that it hadn’t exploded on us. My bike had taken a few bullets, too, but at least it was operational.
“You holding out all right, fag?” Tara asked.
“Hell, I survived a coma, ya think this shit gonna hurt at all?”
We just laughed. Roost rose with me, placing an arm around me, as an older man who looked like what my father’s age would be approached. He had on no weapons, but had two boys by his side.
“Roost, you sure took us into a bloodbath.”
“Sorry, Rog, but this gonna be the last one for a while.”
“You know I’m just busting your balls,” the man named Rog—presumably Roger said. He then approached me and shook my hand. “Roger Carter. These are my boys, Cole and Lane.”
“Pleasure,” I said, shaking all of their hands.
“I knew your father well. He was a good man. I’m sorry you lost him to these Falcons, but I think you’ve served in his name well.”
“Thanks,” I said, unsure of what more to say.
I was coming down from battle, the battle that I’d looked forward to all day, and though I had won, I was exhausted and unsure of what more I could say. We’d beaten the Falcons, Falcon…
“By chance, did you shoot a man in a white coat and white pants?” I asked, suspicion rising within me.
“Not to my awareness,” Roger said. “I saw the whole battle unfold. I’m too old for these things, but—”
At that moment, as if to taunt me, my phone rang. I knew it was only one possibility.
“I have your girl,” Falcon said, and Eve’s muffled screams on the other end of the line confirmed it. “Come to the place where your father died if you ever want to see her again.”
Then he hung up without another word. In frustration, I nearly broke my phone with my hand.
“What now?” Roost said.
“Falcon’s got Eve,” I growled. “Roost… you up for one more ride?”
Roost looked at his shoulder, shrugged, and nodded.
“Ain’t nothin’ I won’t do for ya two,” he said. “Roger, we’ll take it from here. Thanks for the hand.”
“Nothing to it, Rooster,” he said.
I nodded my thanks to the Black Reapers, who rode off as one, the father and the two boys coming in behind them.
“Rooster, huh?” I said. “First time I’ve ever heard your full nickname like that.”
“Yeah, we go way back,” he said with a smirk. “But enough o’ that. Let’s get yer girl.”
14
Eve
When I saw Derek leave, I saw a man that was a nervous wreck, one fearful of what was to come.
And while I kept a strong face for him as he moved in, careful to make sure that he had a source of strength for me, once the elevator shut on him, I found myself moving to the window, as if I could see out into the streets to observe how the battle would play out.
Which, of course, I couldn’t. The corner where I had once worked for the Falcons was nowhere near visible from Derek’s place—I had certainly tried many times in the past—and to expect me to know anything about the battle was lunacy.
Still, that didn’t stop me from pacing in place like a madman, hoping and praying for some sort of sign—I don’t know, the Falcon’s face flying through the air—that Derek and the boys were OK.
I didn’t want to call Derek at this time, worried that a phone call, the vibration of his phone, or anything might be taken as a sign from Falcon that there was a trap—which very well there was. Hell, just thinking about how there was a trap for Falcon left me believing that in some crazy, deranged way, he could peer into my mind, see what was happening, and anticipate it.
Which was ludicrous, of course, but to a person who has begun to lose their mind, insanity just seems like a normal part of every day life. A sociopath reading my mind and peering into my soul from a few miles away? Sure, why not.
And that’s when the intercom system for Derek’s apartment rang.
Nervously, I went over to it, unsure if I would answer. Matty or Derek would never use it. But what if it was Tara? What if it was Derek, or maybe the security guard who needed someone to come up?
None of it sounded good, and at first, I just ignored it. I went to the couch to try and watch some Netflix, hoping that the time would go by quickly enough and the intercomming would die.
But it kept buzzing… and buzzing… and buzzing… and buzzing…
Finally, fed up, I answered.
“Hello,” I said, trying to sound annoyed.
“Hi, Miss Kellerman? This is Clarence from downstairs, how are you?”
“Clarence? The security guard? What are, what’s going on?”
“Miss Kellerman… I’m sorry.”
Then a loud bang echoed through the buzzer speaker system. I screamed as I realized what had just happened.
“Hello, whore,” a raspy man’s voice said. “We’re coming from you. It will be easier on all of us if you just come with your hands up. See you soon.”
The line went dead, and I heard the elevator whirring.
I began to feel the early onset of panic, as Clarence’s almost-certain death had only elevated the stress that I had felt when I was first standing at the window, watching the city go about, unaware of the danger that Derek would soon face. I began to breath heavily as the elevator drew closer and closer. And then I did something that got my mind straight.
I thought of what Derek would do.
Quickly thinking, I headed for the bathroom shower with my purse. I crouched down in the corner, giving myself plenty of space, and made sure I stood on a dry spot. I silently stood as the elevator doors opened.
“Find the girl and let’s get out of here,” the same raspy voice said.
I tried to steady my breathing as I heard several pairs of footsteps—far too many to know exactly how many men there were—came in. It was like hearing wolves close in on me. The steps started out quick but then ominously became slow as Falcons swept through the area. I kept my left hand on the knife and the right hand on my gun.
“There’s quite a bit we can steal here, boss,” a man with a high-pitched voice said. “We should take it all!”
“Find the girl first and then you can have whatever you want,” he growled. “But you don’t get crumbs until the whore is ours.”
I swore I heard some incomprehensible mumbling—the usual sign of the Falcons disloyalty to each other. It wouldn’t do me much good though, most especially if I was severely outnumbered.
I looked down at the gun to see how many bullets I had. I counted six. I made a promise to myself not to use the gun unless I absolutely had to. As Derek had said, guns drew attention, and the last thing he needed was me getting overwhelmed and shot at be
cause I had used my gun too early.
But then it occurred to me the reverse side of that. Knives didn’t really draw attention if they were used properly. I could take the men out bit by bit if I was quick, effective, and went for the fatal targets. Specifically, the neck.
Then someone came to Derek’s bedroom.
“God, it smells like fucking in here!” the man with the high pitched voice said. “We oughta torch this place! Might as well. Bastard burned our places down!”
“First you want to steal, now you want to commit arson, Mouse? What are you, a criminal?”
Snickers and laughter came from the other room as Mouse muttered, “it’ll be your graves I dance on.” The thought briefly came to mind of converting this Mouse character into an ally, but if he was like most of the Falcons, he was too mean and had too much of an evil streak to be converted. I’d have to put him out and then move through the apartment.
I heard his footsteps coming to the bathroom. I steadied my breathing. I had made sure to turn out all of the lights, but I knew he’d turn—
No, he didn’t, actually. He had a flashlight on. That…
On the one hand, that was ideal since he wouldn’t see me coming. But if he turned and blinded me…
I had to take the initiative. I couldn’t just practice self-defense anymore. I had to go on the offense.
In another time, I might have contemplated how strange it was that I had reached this point, acting as a Falcon would. But right now, I just raised my left hand as I pushed the knife closer to the curtain.
Right now, Mouse’s flashlight, likely with his cell phone, was pointed to the far side, where the drawer was open. If I moved in without warning, I had to cover about three long steps before I could get a kill in. Too far. Let him come closer.
“The fuck is this?” he said, bending over. “Tampons? Gross!”
With my eyes adjusted, I slowly pulled back the shower curtain to see him bent over, looking at my box of toiletries and other accessories. There was no better time.
I stepped out. He didn’t notice me.
I took another step.
And then another.
He froze.
Just as he began to turn, I plunged the knife into his neck. I put my hand with the knife over his mouth so he wouldn’t make any noise, and then waited until he went limp.
It was a cold-blooded move what I had just done, to kill a man who never saw me coming until he was already on his way to dying. But you know what? For everything the Black Falcons had done, they didn’t need my sympathy.
They needed to get the fuck out of my apartment. Our apartment.
I peered out into the bedroom, which had the lights on, along with the living room. I didn’t see anyone in the bedroom but knew full well that if I put myself in the wrong spot, I’d have at least a couple of Black Falcons on me, if not more.
“Hey, Mouse, we found some cheese, you want some?”
Shit.
There was no point in faking Mouse’s voice, even if I thought I could do a reasonable impression. Reasonable didn’t cut it at this point. Even just saying “yeah” when he would’ve said “uhh, yeah” would have drawn suspicion.
Although, to be fair, I was well past the point of drawing suspicion.
Still, Mouse could be useful.
I slowly closed the bathroom door and then moved Mouse’s body, the better to position him so that when another Black Falcon opened the door, it would be the first thing he saw.
“Mouse?” I heard through the door.
I moved to the other side. It would require a little bit of movement on my part, given the door wasn’t the biggest door in the world and it swung into the bathroom itself. Still, I would have the element of surprise.
“Goddamnit, Mouse, stop going through Knight’s porn stash,” a man said.
But more important than his words were his feet, which were moving toward the bathroom. I hurried to make sure that Mouse was properly positioned, crouched… and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
The footsteps seemed to come so slowly that I wondered if the Falcon was using a cane to move around. I gulped and silently prayed this situation wasn’t so suspicious that the whole club showed up.
Then, finally, a hand came on the door.
“Mouse, are you taking a shit?”
I held my breath.
“Fuckin’ hell, Mouse, you… Jesus Chri—”
The man never finished his words once he came into the bathroom. With my knife still coated in the blood of Mouse, I stabbed a man with a shaved head through the neck. But this time, my aim wasn’t as good, and the man managed to get a yelp out.
I pulled my knife back and stabbed him one more time, which did the trick, although I had to also disarm him of his gun before he did too much damage. But he also fell with a hard thud, which gave away my position.
“She’s in the bathroom!” I heard the first man, the one who had taunted me over the intercom, yell. “Get her!”
Just don’t make it a ton. Please don’t…
Well, fuck it, if I’m not hiding anymore…
I pointed the gun to the entrance of the bedroom and waited for the Black Falcons to appear. One man charged forward, failing to take into account his surroundings. Your loss, bud.
BANG!
My shot was true, hitting him on the head.
“Thanks for the target practice, Roost,” I said, although the sound of the gun firing so close to my ears temporarily deafened me.
I saw another man turn, but he was more careful and fired a couple more shots. I quickly took cover behind the bathroom door, but I also realized that the door was never going to hold. It was already splintering through, and a few more bullets would get through and hit me.
I had to move. Which meant I had to take risks.
“Ah, shit,” I heard the man who had fired at me say.
That was my chance.
I quickly moved in, my gun trained. The man was reloading, and I moved to the side, strafing and firing two shots. They were enough, but now I was down to three bullets for… three more guys, including the ringleader, who still stood near the elevators.
Christ, six guys for one girl? Bit much, don’t you think?
I breathed heavily as I heard the two men arguing about who would go first.
“She’s a goddamn whore, not a Marine!” the first yelled in a smoker’s voice. “Fucking go in there and kill her!”
“Oh, sure, she just killed three of us like it was target practice, and you just want me to waltz in there. Don’t know if you noticed, Turret, but she’s got some training under her belt.”
“Shut the fuck up, Tank, and just do your fucking job!”
“My fucking job! It’s—”
I took them both out with ease. Leave it to the Falcons to bicker amongst themselves so much that they leave themselves vulnerable.
And then I heard mock applause from the elevator doors. I trained my gun at the man, who must have stood over six and a half feet tall and weighed over two hundred pounds of muscle, but he seemed completely unconcerned by my weapon. In fact, he seemed to relish the fact that I had one.
“Very good, Eve, very good!”
“How nice of you to use my actual name,” I growled. “Most of you just call me whore.”
“Oh, don’t get your ego too bloated. I would, but your skill is clearly beyond that of a cocksucker.”
“How kind of you,” I said, and I pulled the trigger.
And I missed.
The man, seeing that I missed, turned, saw the bullet hole, and pointed to it.
“Did you mean to put that here?” he said, pointing toward his skull. “Yeah, there are no mulligans in shooting, sorry.”
“What do you want?” I growled, still holding the knife in my hand.
“I wanted you alive so I can make my boss happy, but frankly, Eve, I have no interest in serving him any longer,” he said. “My name is Richard. I am his serge
ant in arms, although the bastard foolishly passed me up until he had no choice. Think of me as the Roost of the Black Falcons.”
“So you’re gay and like to take it up the ass?” I taunted. “At least I know you won’t be needing me to suck your dick anymore.”
Richard just laughed.
“Falcon warned that Derek had emboldened you some, and I can see why. In any case, Eve, I have no interest in killing you. Nor, sadly for your sake, do I have any interest in sucking cock. Rather—”
He unzipped his pants and pulled his dick out, much to my disgust.
“I need you to do to me what you seem to do to Derek,” he said. “We can make this easy and then I can take you to Falcon with no harm done, or we can this the way that Rock used to do it.”
“Yeah, how about you go back down the elevator before—”
But then Richard pointed his submachine gun at me.
“The time for using that little mouth to talk is done,” he said. “Make your choice.”
I moved toward Richard, lowering my hand that held the knife. I then dropped my gun to the floor, giving the appearance of surrendering.
I only had one chance to make it work.
“Good girl,” Richard said, lowering his gun. “You—”
And then, when I was just about to touch him, I threw my knife at him.
It caught him right in the chest.
It wasn’t enough to kill him, but it did stagger him enough that he didn’t have the focus to fire his machine gun at me. I then kicked him in the groin as hard as I could, causing his dick to go soft instantly as he fell to the ground. I yanked the knife out of him and then stabbed him in the throat.
“Fuck all of you!” I roared as I yanked the submachine gun from him. “Goddamnit!”
I looked around as I tried to come down from my adrenaline rush. Six dead Falcons littered the place. One of them had his dick out. All of them had blood seeping out of them.
And I was the only one uninjured.
“And Derek wanted to leave me out of the fight,” I said, a hint of cockiness in my voice.
But now what? I didn’t want to just stay here until Derek came back. I needed to drive…
But I had left my car at Roost’s. Almost like…
