by J. C. Allen
Already, we all thought this could be a trap, and it would be a stupid act to think that Falcon would be there coincidentally. And who knew how many guys he’d have on him? It was too dangerous to think that I could go in there and take care of it all on my own.
I had to be smart when fighting against Frank, who’d always shown he was brains over brawn. Almost entirely brains over brawn. It was all enough to make me sick.
And, as much as I hated to admit it, Frank Young was not someone to fuck with.
But that didn’t mean that we couldn’t start the process of ending this once and for all.
I slid onto my bike, slapping at the sides gently, the only girl in the world that could compete with Eve.
Not that she would win. But she was close.
“Alright, girl,” I whispered. “Let’s go for a chase, shall we?”
Turning the ignition, the motorcycle roared to life underneath me, filling me with a rejuvenated sense of power and control. I pushed back the kickstand with my heel and turned into first gear, turning out onto the empty city streets. I let out a battle cry as I moved forward, even as I thought that I needed to tone down the fire.
Most of the city was already asleep, the normally substantial shine of residential lights from the many towering apartments and condos lending to a sort of half day until the truly heinous hours of the night were upon us. I was, however, well into those truly heinous hours of the night—a time that seemed best for me to be doing this sort of work—and the degree of darkness I was met with was almost as jarring as the degree of loneliness I was met with. With the exception of a few overnight commercial vehicles and the few drivers and pedestrians who were, like me, likely up to no good, the streets and sidewalks were utterly vacant.
This, however, was just fine with me. It gave me a freedom to be alone with my thoughts, and I basked in only the moonlight and my headlights as my only source of illumination. It felt like I had to fight in the darkness in more than one way.
I continued down the city streets, heading to the south end of the city where the first of the bodies had been found. I glanced around, noting a nearby construction area, a small public park, and the entrance to the subway. I moved to park my bike on a nearby side street, making sure the area was safe enough before slipping off.
“Where to start…?” I mused to myself.
I paused, letting my eyes drift, though they did little work as I thought of where best to direct my focus. Truth be told, the superstitious part of me wanted to go to the subway station, thinking that if Falcon had sprung a trap, he’d do it in the same spot that he had done it to my father.
But, remembering Roost’s words, I decided that I would save that for last, and I would only do it in the safest and most cautious of manners. The last thing I needed was to hear everything he said and then do the exact opposite, getting me killed and leaving Eve and Roost to wonder “why?”
Letting my gaze follow my mind to the second choice, I decided that the park was a good place the start, so I headed in that direction.
The lighting was awful in the area, even with the stars up above, so I slid my phone out and, using the flashlight app, and birthed a wide, powerful beam of light over the area. I began to look around, not noticing anything out of the ordinary. With the exception of a few stray dogs and cats frolicking about—and, in one awkward instance, fucking about—and the normal traffic of squirrels and chipmunks, I realized I was likely the only other living thing. Luckily, the park wasn’t too large and it hadn’t taken me too long to realize that nothing was off about this area.
I wasn’t sure what it said that I felt utter relief that I hadn’t run into any Falcons of any kind here, but I gave myself a pass and said it stood for me just being sane for once in my life.
My next choice was the construction area, which didn’t look to be of much help with any leads, either. Unless I was hoping to steal a few discarded tool boxes or a blown truck tire, it was obvious that there was nothing there for me. The place was mostly an empty lot aside from some construction vehicles and a few spots of concrete that had most likely just recently been set.
Once again, I felt sheer relief that I had not run into any enemies of any kind. I just hoped the same was true for the other members of the Saviors, patrolling the different regions of the area we had triangulated off. While I knew some of us would inevitably die, the more I could position ourselves to minimize that, the better.
I glanced back, looking towards the subway entrance. I swallowed. I hated being underground, had hated the subway since I was a kid. Something about traveling under the city had always left a bad taste in my mouth. Hearing the story of how my father had died had only made it worse.
Two conflicting thoughts played in my mind right there. One said to get the hell out of there, to ask for backup, and to then approach the subway. That seemed like the rational plan, but the downside was that if I didn’t go now and Falcon was there, and he wouldn’t have suspected my appearance, then I was missing out on a great chance to end this war.
And thus came the second thought, which said to explore anyways. It was the more emotional of the two, the more impetuous and impulsive of the two, but damn if it wasn’t winning. You didn’t come here to run. You came here to run only if you saw Falcon nearby. And that hasn’t happened yet, so.
Get your ass downstairs and see what you can find.
Taking a deep breath, I headed forward, heading for the stairway to my descent. I stood at the top of the stairs, glancing down into the dimly lit entrance to the subway. At this hour, there wasn’t likely to be much down there aside from maybe a few homeless people looking for a place to have a decent sleep.
Hopefully, I wouldn’t be interrupting much.
And, hopefully, I wouldn’t find much down there.
Even though I had a terrible feeling as I moved that I wasn’t going to get my wishes this go around.
I wanted to get back to Eve. I wanted to be wrapped up in her arms. I wanted to be making love to her, because I loved her, and because I couldn’t bear the idea of losing another loved one, and because if I did, I didn’t know how I’d keep going.
I could feel the sudden, sincere hope that maybe we were wrong, and that wouldn’t be so bad if it happened.
Maybe there would be no connection. Even if that meant we were back to square one, it meant that we weren’t any worse for wear either, right? Our men would have survived another night, with no casualties, and we could better plan our attack…
Or you can man up and keep going. No Falcon, no running.
I took a deep breath and finally began to walk the steps, hating how loud everything suddenly seemed. Every step I took seemed to echo through the expansive subway terminal. Whatever ideas I had of sneaking up on someone seemed ridiculous, since the echoes could likely reach not just people in this station but people a station a mile away.
As I got down, I glanced around, hating how dim the lighting was below. Did they always keep the lighting this low? I decided not to dwell on that, difficult as it was, as I began to walk through the terminal, looking around for any signs of trouble.
As I made it to where passengers would board the trains, I was beginning to feel relief at not finding anything. Today was just what I said it was—a goose chase, not anything to fear, not—
That’s when I saw it.
On the far side of the wall, opposite where I’d come down on, was what looked to be some recently sprayed graffiti. Though I normally wouldn’t have bothered, the large splattering of red, dripping letters didn’t seem to carry any of the artistic or territorial tone that graffiti usually carried. It looked more like the sort of halfhearted message somebody scrawled as a PS in a postcard.
And this was one of the places where the bodies were discovered… Where my father was killed…
I stepped closer, the dread began to settle in my stomach as I saw what the message said.
“Black Falcons gonna get YOU”
I froze,
reading and re-reading the message—taking in those big, dripping red letters—and suddenly doubting that what I was looking at was, in fact, spray paint. Though it could have been a generalized message, something meant to invoke fear in any random passerby, something about it at that moment felt eerily personal. And though I had no way of knowing just what I was looking at—whether it was a message to me scribed in blood or if it was even a message to me, at all—I felt a nervous chill.
I stepped back once again, looking around the area, wondering if I was being watched.
That’s when I saw the other message, and I became increasingly certain that the message wasfor me.
Two bodies—additional bodies—had been carelessly dumped in a shadowed corner beside where the message had been written. I frowned, turning my flashlight on the bodies and saw that they had been savagely murdered. I could hardly recognize their faces from all the slash marks, but what was left from their faces that didn’t make me certain was made up for with the jackets they wore.
Savage Savior jackets.
I felt sick to my stomach. I was almost certain that these two were men who had gone on the hunt earlier or concurrently with me… but if they were placed here, it meant that the Falcons knew I was here. They’ll try and break your spirit before they break your body. This is the next step in them doing that.
Gulping, I looked closer at the bodies to better identify who they were. It was a gruesomely difficult challenge, but when I did, I realize they were, in fact, men I had sent out tonight.
One was Grizzly, a veteran of the team who was set to retire a few years from now. He had had a gray beard that stretched to his chest, but now… I could factually say that his beard had been ripped off, but to think about it was sickening.
The other was Greg, a new member not yet with a nickname—like Tyler—but unlike Tyler, he was unflinchingly loyal. He’d only been with us for about two months, and it had proved to be a fatal decision.
I had spoken to both of them one on one in just the last three weeks. And now, I was looking at their desecrated, mutilated bodies. Bodies destroyed by the Falcons…
I began to shake with rage, looking around the terminal, yearning to challenge anyone who was out there to come out from wherever they were hiding. A very prominent part of my mind begged to scream out, to yell out to the Black Falcons hiding here or nearby so they could get a taste of what they’d done to Grizzly and Greg.
Show yourselves, you fuckers! Unless you’re too much of a chicken-shit!
I had to literally bite my tongue to prevent myself from roaring in anger at the sight. I struggled to maintain my composure. It was a good thing, too, because I had absolutely no awareness of anything going on around me—if someone had sneaked up on me at that moment, I’d be toast.
Which, come to think of it, was kind of weird. Did they really just leave this here for me to find without keeping someone here? What if it hadn’t been me to find it?
I shook my head, needing to have a clear head to work all this through. I glanced around one last time. As sickening as the sight was and as strong of a message as this seemed to deliver, there wasn’t anyone down here. Which only meant that this was the only message they wanted to deliver tonight.
Sighing, I switched off the flashlight app and, needing someone to vent my frustration to, went to dial Roost again as I headed out of the subway station. I was glad to see that only a few hours had passed since our call and I wouldn’t be making Eve wait too much longer.
“Already missed talkin’ ta my cute butt that much, huh?” Roost answered.
“Not now, Roost,” I said.
“What’s up?” Roost said, switching to his business mode instantly with the shaking in my voice.
“We were right to follow this lead,” I said. “Just pissed that we were played like fools. Dammit, Roost. God fucking damnit!”
“Calm yerself, Derek,” Roost said, but he wasn’t lecturing me—bless him, he knew when to punch them and when to hug them, and he was doing the latter right now. “Just tell me what happened. Just the facts. Mmk?”
“OK,” I said, taking a deep breath. “They got two of our guys. Grizzly and Greg. Left them dead down here—fucking mutilated. Then, to add insult to injury, they left a fun little message on the wall. And, oh yeah, they left the message in their blood, too. Fuckers!”
“Shit…” Roost groaned, sounding like he was going to be sick.
And who could blame him? Even by Black Falcon standards, this was brutal. This was evil. This was cause for some sort of revenge that went beyond “we’re going to attack your hood now.”
“Derek, we’ll get them, don’t worry.”
I flushed at that, realizing how much he was keeping contained for my sake. I hated that Roost had to stay calm and collected for me. I was staying calm too, at least for the sake of the mission, but there was no question who still reigned supreme in emotional stability.
Nevertheless, Roost was right. We would get them, and I had to stay calm. Had to stay calm for Eve, Roost, and hell, for myself.
But it was so fucking hard. They played us for fools! Used our own men to send a fucking message.
And the message was clear.
They weren’t done playing, far from it from the fucking way they left Greg and Grizzly—and knowing that more would follow.
“Derek? You there?” Roost said.
Lost in my own little word again.
“Yeah, I’m here,” I said, sighing. “Can you call your buddy on the force? Tell him about the crime scene and see if he can’t keep it under wraps. We don’t need photo proof of this to the team. They don’t need to see it.”
“Already planned on it,” Roost said. “I don’t think I need to remind ya, but this is Falcon gearin’ up. Ya think this is bad…”
Not even Roost could finish the thought at that point.
“Listen, I ain’t heard anythin’ else from anyone else on patrol,” Roost continued. “Well, unfortunately, aside from Grizzly and Greg.”
“Check in on everyone,” I said quickly. “Call me back the second you do.”
“Ya got it,” Roost said, hanging up.
I moved back to my bike, keeping my gun in my hand at all times. I swept the open area, even though I could never contain or observe every single part of this park. The odds of me getting jumped seemed depressingly high.
But I got back to my bike and stared at my phone, intermittently checking to see if anyone had moved into the area. I was desperate for a kill—bloodthirsty was a term that had begun to make more and more sense in the previous few weeks, and now it had reached a boiling point. I wanted Falcon’s blood, and I would never wash my Saviors jacket if I got it on me.
And then my phone rang.
“Roost.”
“All good.”
I had never felt such relief.
“I’mma pull all the boys back tonight,” Roost said. “I think ya saw the message, and I ain’t lookin’ to hear anythin’ else from the Falcons. In the meantime, why don’t you go back to yer place and get some rest with that pretty lady of yers. Ya did what ya needed to do.”
I checked the time quickly, seeing it was after 1:30 a.m. Somehow, that seemed both earlier and later than I expected—earlier, because I had planned on this being an all night mission, and later, because damnit, any hour past midnight without Eve felt later than I wanted it to be.
Get it together before you see her.
“Right,” I said, hating how hard it was to try and stay calm. “Thanks, Roost.”
“All will be well, okay? Just stay calm,” Roost said. “We gonna get ‘em. But only if we keep our heads.”
Both literally and figuratively, I thought with a shudder.
“I’ll try,” I said.
I needed this right now. I needed to get away from the madness, have some detachment, and take care of things later. I hit the ignition and sped out of the parking area towards the freeway. I decided I’d go for what usually helped.
But instead of invigorating me, just before I got to the highway, I suddenly found myself so mentally damaged that I had to pull over to the side of the road—something that, best I could remember, had literally never happened before.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, hating the oncoming tears as I realized I bore the weight of responsibility for the deaths of Grizzly and Greg. I felt so weak suddenly. I had been so strong, fighting everything that came my way, but how was I supposed to fight Frank? The man who killed both my father and brother, two men who seemed so much stronger than I was.
Was it any wonder that he had sent that email to my entire crew? The letter may have been complete bullshit, and no one may have joined, but if I was acting like this, it wasn’t the most inaccurate letter. It was… it was…
It was right.
What good could I do to kill Frank when he had not just killed my father, but desecrated his body? How the fuck was I supposed to take him out?
Simple. Together. With all of your team.
You sure as hell don’t do it alone.
I frowned, beginning to slow the bike down as I realized how stupid I’d been. I wanted to get this all done on my own, but this wasn’t the way, was it? I had help and it’d been stupid to go into this on my own. Everything since the day I had met Eve had been about being “the lone wolf” of sorts, going out to conquer an entire herd of enemies. I wanted to do this on my own. Wanted to prove something that I didn’t even need to prove.
Stupid! So fucking stupid!
Yes, it is pretty stupid. But you know what you need to do now. You accept that you can’t do it on your own. So, do what Roost said. Go home to your woman. And then figure out how to do it together in the morning.
Feeling a new sense of strength—or at least just not as weak as I was in the moments before—I revved the bike back up again, racing to get home. To get to Eve.
I wouldn’t do this alone any more than I had to. I’d do this right.
For my father.
