by Ora Wilde
“Why? We’re free. We can just go back to San Mateo. Regroup with my dad. We’d have backup. We don’t have to be alone.”
“Not yet,” he repeated.
“What’re you planning to do, Lenny?”
“I’m gonna end this war,” he calmly said as his eyes kept their focus on the Godlesses. He then drew a rectangular device from the inside pocket of his kutte. It took me a few seconds to recognize it, primarily because it was something which I haven’t seen since I was a small child. A walkie-talkie.
I didn’t have to ask what it was for. It was clear that he was going to use it to trigger my Proenza Schouler which he has transformed into a homemade bomb. There should be another radio tucked inside my back pack.
He kept studying the movements of the Godlesses, waiting for them - all of them - to return inside their clubhouse before he’d detonate the explosives he has planted. He wanted to wipe them all out. That was how he was planning to win this war.
I felt some heaviness press against my heart. The Godlesses... they’re animals... deplorable men who were devoid of morals... but they were people, still... people who had families, loved ones they cared for, children they had to rear. Growing up with my father, I have come to know that in a war between clubs, every member’s life was forfeit... that the club’s honor and survival should come first above everything else... that kill or be killed was the rule that always prevailed. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel saddened by the fate that awaited the men below us, even if they were the enemies.
“Is this necessary?” I asked Lenny. More than just a question, it was a plea for him to reconsider.
“They have San Mateo cornered,” he answered with unapologetic coldness. “Your father, his men, and their families who are in the clubhouse under lockdown... none of them will be able to come out. They’re greatly outnumbered. They’re stuck there for the duration of this fucking war.”
“But the Godless... they won’t stay there forever, too,” I tried to reason out. “They’ll grow impatient and leave.”
“You’re right,” he replied. I thought he agreed with me, but the words that followed showed how wrong I was. “They’ll grow impatient. But they won’t leave. Not until they wipe us out. What will stop them from blowing up our clubhouse? Everyone’s there. They can take everybody out with just one bomb.”
I swallowed some air as I imagined the horrifying event he envisioned.
“We have to strike first, and we have to strike fast,” he concluded.
Lenny fidgeted a bit when all but a small group of the Godlesses have entered the building. He held the walkie-talkie closer to his face, his finger hovered above the call button. One press was all it would take. One press and the Godless’ clubhouse would explode.
But he didn’t get that chance.
Everything happened so quickly.
A baseball bat struck the back of his head and Lenny fell forward. Instinctively, I jumped back a few steps and turned my head to get a good look at his assailant.
I almost screamed with sheer terror.
There he stood, tall and menacing, his bald head shining as it reflected the sun, his lower jaw blighted by burns and decaying flesh, his eyes burning with rage and hate.
The man who ate Nicker’s arm has found us. Cannibal was here.
He was about to clobber Lenny’s head once again, but I managed to grab a stone nearby and threw it at him. My pitch wasn’t strong. The stone bounced off his chest like it was just a crumpled piece of paper. But it was enough to distract him from what he was about to do. It was enough to buy Lenny some time to regain his bearings and strike back.
Lenny kicked the man’s knee, hoping it would buckle and he’d fall down.
Cannibal hardly felt Lenny’s blow. All it did was infuriate him even more. He grabbed Lenny’s Kutte and picked him up with so much strength that Lenny’s feet floated a foot above the ground. Then, Cannibal threw him hard against Bigalow. A loud thunk followed before Lenny came crashing near the van’s front wheels. A huge and deep crease formed on the vehicle’s metal plate. I could only imagine the damage Lenny suffered as he held on to his back and grunted in pain.
Cannibal walked towards him with calculated steps. He was still carrying the bat that he once again intended to use as a weapon.
With all his might, Lenny stood up. He was smiling, as if he was mocking the monster who was about to kill him, as if he was challenging the Godless to give it his best shot.
That gave me the slightest semblance of relief. It seemed like Lenny had a plan, and his plans have yet to falter today.
But all he did was allow Cannibal to swing the bat and strike his face, and down he went once more. And panic started to consume me as I realized that, for all the swagger that Lenny displayed, he actually didn’t have a plan.
Lenny crawled towards a tree a few feet away from Bigalow. Cannibal slowly followed, as if he was a predator playing with a prey he knew wasn’t capable of a fight.
As he reached the roots of the tree, Lenny turned around to see the man lingering above him. Then, Lenny kicked his midsection. That staggered Cannibal as he took a few steps backwards. But it didn’t last. Cannibal just shook off whatever pain he may have felt, and proceeded to stalk Lenny with intensified fury.
Lenny responded with punches and kicks which can be best described as wayward. He just kept throwing his fists and his feet against his attacker. Some managed to hit the Godless. Most missed.
Cannibal attempted to pick him up again, but Lenny anticipated the move. He rolled to his side. The behemoth was slow to react and that gave Lenny the opening he needed. Lenny quickly got back on his feet, gathered enough leverage for a mighty punch, and struck the monster’s chin with all his strength.
But Cannibal didn’t even budge.
Instead, he grabbed Lenny’s neck and began to choke the life out of him. Lenny tried to extricate himself from the giant’s grasp, wiggling violently as he kept throwing punches that he knew would just be futile.
Then, Lenny’s face started to turn blue. He couldn’t breathe. It was just a matter of time before Cannibal would finish off what the rest of the Godlesses failed to do.
And so I lunged towards the beast, hoping to hit him hard enough and release Lenny from his clutches.
But he saw me approaching. With one swipe of his colossal arm, I was sent flying to the van, crashing into the same spot that probably broke Lenny’s back earlier. I was able to protect myself from serious injuries when I managed to shield my body with my forearm.
Lenny didn’t know that. He assumed the worst. He let out a guttural scream as he reached for a stone from the ground. He smashed it against the side of Cannibal’s head. The monster reeled from the force of the blow. Lenny managed to escape his hold, but he was raving mad. He kept screaming as he rabidly attacked his opponent, hitting him with punches that were so much stronger and more violent than before. Cannibal’s head tottered with each blow. Lenny was finally hurting him. He was winning. We were winning.
That was until Cannibal caught one of Lenny’s jabs by seizing his fist. Cannibal twisted Lenny’s hand, and with it, his entire arm. Lenny fell on his knees.
They teetered at the edge of the hill, their feet mere inches away from the slope. It was just a matter of time before the other Godlesses would see them. It was just a matter of time before they’d come. They’d keep me alive. But I could only imagine what they’d do to Lenny.
What happened next, however, made me remember that the worst of our enemies wasn’t down there near the building. He was right in front of me.
Cannibal kicked Lenny until his back dropped flatly on the ground. Lenny still fought back, but the monster was simply too strong.
Then, Cannibal planted his boot on Lenny’s neck before grabbing his arm. My eyes widened as my hands slid to my mouth in extreme dread. It was a scene that was still fresh in my mind, a horror that I knew I wouldn’t be able to forget. I prayed hard that I was mistaken, that what I thought
would occur wouldn’t, that what happened to Nicker wouldn’t be repeated on Lenny.
I screamed and screamed and screamed when Cannibal began to pull Lenny’s arm off the rest of his body.
The monster didn’t stop yanking at his limb, growing impatient with every second that passed. Lenny tried to ward him off, but he couldn’t do so with just one arm and his legs crushed by Cannibal’s weight. Lenny was in excruciating pain, but he didn’t show it. He just bit his lips as he continued to fight.
But I knew his fate was sealed. Just like Nicker’s.
I had to do something, and I had to do it fast. Time wasn’t on my side.
I searched my surroundings for a weapon I could use. There were rocks of various sizes scattered in front of me, but they wouldn’t be of much help as I wasn’t strong enough to make a telling throw. There were some branches by the tree on my left, but even if I’d whack the giant, all I’d be able to accomplish was to infuriate him even further.
And there was Bigalow.
I ran towards the driver’s side and opened the door. I checked the key. It was still inserted on the hole at the side of the steering wheel. I turned it and the engine chugged. Cannibal was right in front of the van. I could smash the vehicle against him in an angle that would keep Lenny safe. But I had to jump out at the last second as the van would charge down the slope, bringing the Godless with it. It would ram itself against the back side of the building, hopefully crushing Cannibal in the process, but that would also garner the attention of the hundred or so thugs there. They’d come after us, but at least, we’d have enough time to run away.
It was my best shot.
It was my only shot.
I stepped on the gas and the engine rumbled furiously. All I had to do was to release the brakes.
Then my eyes managed to catch a glimpse at the rearview mirror. I saw my luggages at the back. I counted three, minus the back pack that Lenny had used earlier.
My luggages... my things...
My Versaces and Valentinos... my YSLs and D&Gs... my Cartiers and Tiffanys... my LVs and Chanels...
Everything I valued were there...
My eyes darted back to the sight in front of me.
The one I valued most was on the ground with his arm about to be detached from his torso.
My foot withdrew from the middle pedal.
Bigalow came racing towards the two men.
I turned the wheel a little bit to the left.
Then I jumped out of the van.
I rolled twice or thrice after hitting the ground, but I heard the sickening sound of metal smashing against flesh and the blood-curling resonance of an unfamiliar shriek. I heard the heavy jangling of a worn down relic from my youth as it sprinted down the hill. I heard the thunderous whump of steel versus bricks as the van plowed through the side of the Godless’ clubhouse. And I heard the voice of half a hundred men, cursing and yelling and panicking, as they began to converge and plot their next move.
I opened my eyes and looked at the edge of the hill.
Lenny was there, hurt but alive. He was looking at me, too. A hint of a smile was on his handsome face. That dimple was teasing to show its beautiful self.
He was proud of me. At least that’s what I thought he was thinking.
But he quickly, albeit laboriously, got up and bolted towards the walkie-talkie which he dropped during the commotion.
“L-Lenny...” I uttered, a final plea for him to reconsider, though deep inside I knew that he was most probably right... that deaths were unavoidable in wars... that it was just a matter of striving to survive, to ensure that the lives lost would be theirs and not ours.
“We don’t have much time,” he responded as he looked at the radio with resolute intent before he turned to face me. “Look away, Samantha.”
“But Len...”
“Just look away.”
I did.
It was the most deafening thing I’ve ever heard. An explosion that I felt could be heard in the next state. It was followed by an endless pattering of noise as a variety of debris fell on the ground. The suffocating smell of thick smoke quickly filled my lungs. The heat from the fire that ensued threatened to burn my skin.
Then I felt the leathery touch of his kutte over my shoulders as his hand held my arm and he led me away.
We ran for around five minutes, but the blackish haze chased us. It made it difficult for me to see where we were headed or what was happening.
Then we stopped.
The fog was still heavy. I could barely keep my eyes open. But I did manage to see the open road, as well as a solitary bike parked a few feet away from us. It was lavishly painted. Chrome with a sputtering of red, orange and white, forming shapes that resembled teeth. Or fangs. Two words was emblazoned on its side: Flesh Eater. It was easy to surmise who its owner is. Or was.
“1972 Easy Rider,” Lenny muttered to himself. “Old. Timeless. But the wire box is exposed. Easy to jack.”
“Jack? You mean steal it?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he answered. “The van’s gone. We need a ride.” He was still holding my arm. I felt his fingers squeeze harder. I began to get more worried as I thought he suddenly became anxious about something. But then, his mouth looped into a grin and I realized that he wasn’t nervous at all. He was excited. “We need a ride,” he repeated, “and it’s about time that I finally get myself a fucking bike.”
11
LOWLIFE
It was only a minute after I parked the stolen bike behind the welcome sign at the border of Tulare and Fresno when I heard her voice again. She’s been quiet the entire ride, from the warehouse we burned down to the outskirts of the Godless’ turf.
She buried her face on my chest, hoping to hide her tears. Then her hands clenched into fists and she began pounding on my upper body. She didn’t even notice how hard she was hitting me.
“Y-You... You don’t have the right to die!” she screamed in between her weeps as she continued to strike me with ever-increasing force.
“I’m not dead,” I reminded her, failing to curtail a hushed laugh. When has death become a matter of privilege?
“I... I saw you... they shot you...”
“The bullet didn’t puncture my neck. Thankfully, they’re idiots and they didn’t bother to check.”
“But you... you fell down... and you left me all alone with those... those... those monsters...”
“Yeah,” I said. “Sorry ‘bout that. But I’m alive. And I’m here now.”
She struggled to continue speaking, so she just kept striking me with her fists. Her eyes were closed, her face engulfed by my torso. She couldn’t even see what she was hitting.
“Uhm... can you stop swinging now?” I pleaded. “The wound on my neck’s still bleeding.”
“Oh.... sorry,” she mumbled as she ceased her blows.
She picked up her head and looked at me. Her eyes were as damp as a swamp. Her mascara smudged her face like blots of ink. Her nose was as red as a stoplight. Her lips were curled in a buckled line that kept shuddering with uneasiness.
But she remained as beautiful as she has always been.
She sank her head on my chest once more. I kissed her forehead. That prompted her to look up and meet my eyes.
“It’s all over now,” I said.
“But... they have more members...” she expressed her concern. “They have a lot of charters. They’re gonna want revenge.”
“We’ll deal with that later,” I assured her. “With the club this time around.”
“We have to call my dad,” she reminded me.
I agreed. There was a pay phone at the gas station a few meters away from the arch. I remembered because I passed by that booth on my way back to Tulare. It’s rare to see those relics from the nineties these days.
I searched for some coins in my pocket but I couldn’t find any. I looked at her and she just gave me a shrug. Then the edges of her brows curved upwards as her mouth straightened into an infuriated l
ine. She probably remembered what happened to her precious things. I smiled. It was a relief to find her as amusing as ever.
I haven’t called Prez since yesterday. I still had my phone back then and I informed Prez that we were about to enter Essex. He’d be mad to know what I’ve done. Really mad. I didn’t tell him I was alive. I struck without the club’s consent. I acted by myself without consulting them. And I may have also doomed the club as the Godless would want the worst kind of retaliation for the fall of their Tulare charter.
But Samantha was safe now, and that’s what mattered most to me.
The gas boy was kind enough to lend me a few quarters. I dropped them on the antiquated phone and dialed Prez’s number. It didn’t take a full ring before he answered.
