by K E Osborn
“Go!”
We race toward the door at lightning speed. My feet can’t get me in there quick enough. When I enter the warehouse, my heart stops beating as I look down to the floor to see Adam laying lifeless and still. Pale white, like there’s nothing left—no life at all.
“God, no!”
I rush to him, my knees hit the concrete as my hand rushes to his neck. The gaping bullet wound in his head, half his face deformed, makes bile creep up my throat. But my heart leaps back into gear when I feel it. It’s faint. So fucking faint, but I feel it.
“Fuck! Jones come here,” I call out and he rushes over and bends down.
“Is he?” he asks.
I grab his hand placing his fingers on Adam’s neck. Jones’s eyes light up as he looks at me and he smiles. “Is that a pulse?”
“So you feel it, too?”
“Yeah, it’s hardly there, but it’s definitely there, sir.”
“I don’t think we have time for an ambulance. Get him in the car. Take him now. Get him to a hospital. Where’s Barringer?”
Jones shakes his head. “I don’t think you wanna see, sir. But he’s in the box over there.”
My chest tightens, and I clench my eyes shut tight. “Shit, is he?”
“Yes, sir, there’s no way he’s alive.”
Opening my eyes, I clench my fists tight and shake my head. “Okay, then let’s concentrate on Adam, get his clothes off.”
“Sir?”
“It will all make sense, just take everything off, except his trunks and then get him to the hospital now. Don’t tell anyone, if the Savages find out he’s still alive, they’ll come after him. We gotta keep this under wraps. If he pulls through, he’s going to have to go into witness protection. He’s gonna fucking hate that, but it’s the only way. Go… go now!”
Jones pulls Adam up quickly stripping off his clothing then takes him outside. I slowly stand up, my knees crunching from being on the ground for too long. I take a deep breath preparing myself for what I’m about to see. Turning, I walk over to the box and look in. My stomach churns and I wince looking at Doug, cut up into pieces, his head placed firmly on top. Rubbing my forehead, I try to hold down the bile. I can’t look anymore, so I turn away and huff.
“Fuck!” I yell out and then it dawns on me. The phone call, Mad Dog said they were coming back. When they do and see Adam gone, that’s going to be a problem.
Fuck! What the hell am I going to do about that?
Then it dawns on me. Pulling out my phone, I dial the number for my contact at the morgue.
“Chief, how nice to hear from you again. Not a social call I’m presuming?”
Normally, I’d laugh, but I can’t find the strength. “Not this time, Jane. I need a fresh cadaver, and I need it fast. Like within thirty minutes fast.”
“Oh, Chief, c’mon.”
“Jane, I know I’m pushing it, but if you do this for me, I’ll invite you over to dinner with Evie and me. I’ll even invite Macca, I know how much you like Officer McDonald. God only knows why.”
She chuckles and sighs. “Okay, tell me what you need.”
“Okay, first, no questions. Second, you know my officer Adam Donovan?”
“Yeah?”
“I need a cadaver that looks as close to him as possible.”
“Oh, shit Chief. What’s he gone and gotten himself into?”
Sighing, I wince. “You know I can’t say anything, Jane.”
“Damn it! You know I thought being in your pocket would give me all the inside info, but nope, just snippets to tease me here and there. Okay. So we had a guy come in this morning he’s around the same build, same hair, his jawline is probably similar. I think he would do.”
“Jane, you are the best. I’ll text you the location, and I really need this body as soon as possible. If you can do it now, that would be best. This is of the utmost importance.”
“Your wish is my command, Chief. You own me a dinner with Macca though.”
“Done.”
“Okay, prepping the cadaver now. He’ll be on his way in ten.”
“Thank you.” Hanging up from Jane, I dial another number, I need this body to look exactly like Adam, no questions asked.
“Chief.”
“Bentley, I need your makeup expertise and I need you to drop everything and come now.”
“Okay, but you know this will cost you, right?”
“For crying out loud, why does everything have to cost me something? Yes, sure, you can have anything you want. I just need your expertise as a mortician, and I need your help making a cadaver look like someone else.”
“I can do that. No worries. Text me that address and I can leave now.”
“Great, see you soon.”
I hang up and take a deep breath. At least, that’s semi-sorted.
***
I didn’t have to wait long. Waiting here with Doug’s dismembered body felt like a fucking lifetime. The cadaver is good, with the right touches from Bentley, at a glance, it will pass for Adam. With the right amount of fake blood added to his face around the bullet wound I put in his head, I should be able to pull this off.
Bentley is working on the body now, it’s where Adam was left lying dying on the ground. My heart is racing knowing that the Savages could be back at any given moment, so we have to work fast. Bentley is putting extra blood and scarring on his face to try and hide the dissimilarities, but with the gaping hole in his head it’s hard to tell anyway. Using the paint-like substance on his face, which doesn’t move once set, it’s all starting to take shape. He’s also framing his face and making him look just like Adam. It’s scarily accurate actually.
My skin prickles when I hear footsteps approaching, so I turn drawing my gun and aiming. Jones walks through the warehouse doors and freezes when he sees me. I instantly relax and exhale.
“Shit, Jones, way to scare the shit out of an old man.”
“Sorry Chief, thought I better come back to get you.”
“Yeah, you thought right. As soon as Bentley is done, we’re out of here. I just hope like fuck this works.”
“I’m done!” Bentley announces standing back assessing his work.
“Okay, let’s get the fuck out of here, and hope they’re all too obsessed with themselves to care about looking too closely at the body,” I say and we all rush out of the warehouse.
I’ve had to do some crazy shit over the years to pull off undercover fuck ups. But this takes the cake, and I hate fucking cake…
***
The constant beeping of the machines is grating on me as I sit at Adam’s side. His head’s bandaged up and he looks a mess. His face is swollen and he isn’t out of the woods yet. He’s critical but stable in the ICU. I have a guard on him 24/7. I haven’t told Hudson or his wife, Hannah. I think it’s best if they think he died. As hard as that will be for them, Adam can’t come out of witness protection, not as long as the Savages are still around. If they find out he’s alive—that is if he pulls through—they won’t stop till they finish the job they set out to accomplish in the first place.
“You have to get through this, Donovan. You have to fight!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
MAD DOG’S POV
After dealing with fucking José for the last hour and a half, over nothing in particular—he was just making noise and making me furious—we head back to the warehouse to finish what we started. Getting off of my bike, I walk alongside Acid, who’s still semi out of it. I’ve lost all my good men, and I’m left with this stupid gutter fucking arsehole who’s driving me crazy. He can finish slicing and dicing Stealth, so we can put him in the box. Then we can get the clean-up crew in here and set up the cameras for tonight’s show so we can get the fuck out of here.
Chops stayed back at the clubhouse to make sure everything stayed as it should, and that the Cartel didn’t show back up on our doorstep again. Dirty cunts, thinking they own everything.
We walk inside and the smell of
death lingers in the air. Curling up my nose, I look over to Stealth lying dead where I shot him and smirk.
Stupid son of a bitch.
“Right, let’s get to work. Acid cut up Stealth. Blade set up the cameras, and Penetrator call in the cleanup crew. Let’s get this mess fucking done and go back and watch the fireworks!”
I stand back to see my brothers at work, feeling a sense of pride that we beat the enemy and didn’t go down today. Sure, we got interrupted by the fucking Cartel, but we won. We won this war, and as Acid places Stealth’s parts into the box, making sure his head is placed on top, I take a moment to breathe in my accomplishments today.
We beat the heat.
There will be no evidence pointing to us, the cleanup crew will see to that. And when Hudson Stone comes here for the meet at six p.m., he’ll find two boxes.
Two presents.
Boxed up nicely… just for him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHRISTOPHER BOYD’S POV
It still amazes me when I look in the mirror to see the white raised angry looking scar staring back at me. It reminds me of everything I lost by being stubborn. My job meant everything to me, and I put my life on the line, literally, to be a better cop. But in doing so, my heart stopped beating—three times on the operating table.
I died.
The doctors brought my body back to life, but not without some injuries. I have a slight speech impediment, a scared up face which is almost totally unrecognizable, and I walk with a limp. But they brought me back none-the-less. My heart and soul, however—that died the moment I had to leave Adam Donovan behind.
The Chief watched over me, said it was best while I was recovering that no one knew I was alive. I fought him on it, but in the end, he won out when he showed me the logic of his thinking. Hannah, Hudson—they were safer if I were dead. That’s what was important.
So the Government gave me a new identity—Christopher Boyd. Born and raised in Mount Gambier. It was far enough away for me not to be noticed, but still close enough for me to keep tabs on my family.
I watched from the shadows as Hannah visited my grave.
I watched as Hannah dropped to her knees and fell apart over my death.
I will never forgive Mad Dog for taking my life away. For making it so I can never see or talk to my kids, or to make love to my beautiful wife ever again.
Sure, I can see them from a distance, but even that technically is a no-no.
Sure, you could say, ‘you’re alive, be grateful’ but is life worth living if you can’t share it with your true love?
One thing is for sure, though, I believe in karma, and one day I will be free—free to come out of the shadows. Free to show my mangled face.
One day, revenge will be mine and it will be oh so sweet...
EPILOGUE
TECHIE’S POV
Pulling up at the expensive looking gates of Aldinga, I take a deep breath. This could be dangerous if Mad Dog finds out, but I have no other idea of where to take my men, and they’re looking to me as their respective leader right now. So this is my best plan. Looking to my right at Lookout, Behemoth, Jigsaw, and Crash behind me in the cage, I nod and turn back toward the screen and press the red button.
Waiting for the annoying little man to come on the screen, I adjust my sunnies so he can see me properly. Gadget appears, spots me, and groans excessively and loudly making me roll my eyes.
“Oh man, what are you doing here?”
“Nice to see you, too, Gadget. I’d like to talk to Gator if he’s here?” I ask putting on my most pleasant voice.
“I’m here!” He appears on the screen behind Gadget and furrows his brows. “No offense, Techie, but we haven’t arranged a visit for Steel.”
“I know, we’re not here for him. It’s me, Lookout, Jigsaw, Behemoth and Crash in the cage. Remember how you said if I needed a place to stay your door was always open? Well, we’re all seeking sanctuary.”
Gator exhales and nods. “Let them in, Gadget.”
The gates open and we ride through and into the compound. It looks the same as last time I was here to drop off Steel’s Hog. Which I notice is now parked nicely in the VP position.
Gator and Gadget walk out as we park our bikes, duck walking them in line with the others in the compound. Gator and Gadget step up as I climb off my Hog and stand up taking off my lid.
“Mad Dog up to his usual tricks?” Gator asks.
“Yeah, something like that,” I announce. “So, what do you say, want five new brothers?”
Gator smirks and tilts his head. “Welcome home, brothers.”
TO BE CONTINUED
PROLOGUE
MAD DOG’S POV
I’m a cunt!
I’ve always been a cunt, and I will probably always be a cunt.
And as I stand back watching the video screen waiting for 6:00 p.m. to roll around, a light flutter filters through my stomach. How do I know I’m a cunt? Because two members of my club, Stealth and Sentinel just met Wreaking Havoc. And even though I really liked Stealth, I’m happy—I’m fucking giddy with excitement that those motherfuckers are chopped up into tiny fucking pieces in coffin-shaped boxes, waiting for the arrival of the fucking heat to find them.
I wish things were different.
I wish I didn’t love the kills.
I wish I were a decent human being.
But being the president of a biker club hardens you, toughens you, it makes you love pain and misery. You thrive on the torture, the blood, the chaos. You live for the mayhem. This life eats you up and swallows you whole. You can’t outrun it, you can’t walk away from it. Once you’re in, you’re in for life. Till death takes your soul, whether by old age or by the club, or of course, by the bloodshed that comes with the wars associated with club life. Either way, you die as part of the club, as Stealth and Sentinel found out. They were brothers, but they were also fucking cops, infiltrating us, trying to bring us down from the inside.
But due to Sentinel’s lack of stealth, pardon the pun, we became suss and planted bugs everywhere. We heard parts of conversations that were damning. So I sent Acid—our new prospect—
to follow Stealth everywhere he went. This only confirmed our hunch when he met with Detective Hudson fucking Stone. I was fuming but had to bide my time and wait for the perfect opportunity to take them both out. When the timing was right, I drove them both to the abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Gawler and bam they were snuffed out.
Stealth had a family and by the sounds of what Acid reported back to me, his wife is gorgeous, and his three kids are very young. The baby is only four months old. But, I had to do what I had to do. I couldn’t let them live. There was a moment when I thought I could talk to Stealth, make him come to our side, but then when he went to see his wife, I knew I had no chance of him leaving his life behind.
He was lost to us, and that was the moment I knew I had to end him—him and Sentinel—and it had to be today. Do I feel bad for killing them? You’d think a part of me would, but no. They were planning on bringing us down, I couldn’t let that happen, so I did the only thing I could take them out before they took us out. It’s fight or die in this case. We have enemies in the prison system, and all of us going to jail—well it’d be impossible to keep us alive. I’m sure we’d drop like flies once inside.
So I did this for my brothers. It was us or them. The lives of two, for the lives of all my brothers. It was a no-brainer. I do feel a bit for his kids, they’re innocents in all of this. But they’re young, they’ll get over it.
“Prez, the cars are pulling up,” Blade our newest prospect announces, drawing my attention back into the now.
Turning around, I look at the screen on his tablet. He’s basically taken up the tech role since Techie abandoned us the fucking cunt. Blade isn’t as good as Techie, but he still knows his shit.
Glancing at the screen, the video footage from the hidden cameras we set up at the warehouse comes into view. It’s 5:30 p
.m. and the heat are about to show up to sting us for our meet with Papi. He’s a lackey Stealth had set up for us to store eccys. We intend to use him to distribute later, but I digress. Little do the heat know we have a surprise in store for them!
“Great, let’s get ready to watch the fireworks!” I grin through my excitement as the rest of my brothers circle around to watch.
The heat all take their positions, hiding behind trees and crates, trying to make themselves look scarce. Problem is, we’re not going to show up, so they can hide all they like because it won’t make a scrap of difference. Smiling to myself as Chops looks at me with a smirk, I nod to Blade, and he pulls out a burner phone and types in the three simple words. Check the shed.
We all start to chuckle as we zoom in on Hudson Stone. We got his number from Stealth’s phone after we 86’d him. So we thought seeing as they are such good buddies, it seemed only fitting to send him the message. Hudson looks down at his phone, and his eyebrows scrunch together.
“Chief, I got a weird message on my phone.”
The older man that looks a lot like Denzel Washington walks over to Hudson and glimpses at his phone furrowing his eyebrows. Giddiness runs through me at the way they’re furrowing their eyebrows, the way their lips are turned down into frowns and the tautness of their frames.
“I don’t like this, Stone,” the chief admits, which only makes me happier.
“You think they’re onto us?” Stone asks and I roll my eyes wondering how stupid he actually is.
“Of course, we’re on to you dickwad.” You don’t just get random messages like that for no reason asshat.
The chief looks around and rubs the back of his neck. “I think we’re made. I don’t want to just walk into the warehouse, though, it’s probably a trap. See if you can get a hold of Donovan or Barringer, and I’ll call in the Bomb Squad to go in first and search the premises before we enter,” Chief Thomas advises. There’s an ease in his tone, though, not full of panic like I would’ve suspected, but I guess that’s why he’s the Chief of Police. He needs to keep his cool in these situations. Hudson nods, taking a deep breath. He dials a number, and Stealth’s phone starts to ring over on the bar.
