Purge (Death Crusaders Motorcycle Club)

by Sandy Kline

  “It’s nothing fancy.” He begins. “But it’ll do the job. The number is on a sticker on the back of the phone and these things usually have a half of a battery on them so if you want to call someone now you can.”

  “Thanks Piper.”

  “No problem Miss Jen.”

  After five minutes of pulling, tearing, and prying I finally get the thing out of its plastic prison. I peel off the sticker that has the number on it and attach it to the back of my driver’s license just in case I forget it. I pry off the back panel and put in the sim card and the battery. After restoring the back panel I dial 441-4785 and it actually rings three times before I realize what I’m doing; calling Alex. I wonder how many times I’m going to do that before her death really sinks in. I disconnect and put the phone in my purse. I wonder if Blade is pissed that I chose to ride with Piper again and not him. Right now I don’t feel up to dealing with my feelings and I know that if I’m safe with him I’m going to feel the full effect of losing my best friend. I’m not ready to do that yet.

  “Piper, would you mind stopping and getting something to drink? Something other than wine that is.”

  “Look back over your seat. There should be a satchel on the floor. Inside that is you’ll find something to drink.”

  “Wait a second. I’ve been holed up in here for five days and a drink has been within arms- reach the whole time?”

  “Sorry about that.” He replies meekly. “It didn’t occur to-”

  Suddenly my whole world explodes around me! The window by my head turns into a million tiny missiles shredding the right side of my face. Since I had just unbuckled my seat to get at the satchel the impact threw my body across the seat and into the door on the other side. The world around me spins madly as metal shrieks and protests deafeningly loud. Sliding across the seat my head strikes the door handle painfully before I slump to the floor between the front and back seats.

  A brief silence follows, punctuated by low moans from the driver’s seat and my own painful gasps. As I struggle to my hands and knees my neck protests any movement. If it’s not broken I’ll be one surprised chick. I’m about to sit up on my haunches when I hear the unmistakable sounds of automatic gunfire. It’s hard to tell in the confusion of battle but is sounds like bullets are coming from all sides. I flatten back down on the floor as glass rains down on my head and back. It’s only a matter of time before I’m hit if I haven’t already been shot in the madness. I hurt all over so it’s hard to tell just what kinds of injuries I have.

  Suddenly there’s an insanely loud burst of gunfire from inside the vehicle as Piper begins to return fire with a vengeance! I don’t know what is shaking more, me or the Land Rover as hundred so bullets pummel it. I feel the truck drop one by one as each tire blows. My life, I realize can now be measured in split seconds as my inevitable death draws precipitously near. I can feel the air creased above my head as the bullets work their way lower and lower as the gunmen methodically shred what’s left of our steel and fiberglass sanctuary. Gradually the volume of incoming fire seems to relent a bit giving me the possibly false impression that we might actually survive the attack when abruptly Piper stops shooting altogether. Immediately the volume of bullets picks right back up. If I don’t get out of here I’ll end up dead for sure. But if I even try to get out the result is bound to be the same. Question is do I want to die in this four wheeled coffin or out in the open and on my own two feet?

  Using my elbows and knees I scoot myself backwards towards the passenger side door. My plan is to just kick it open. One quick glance backwards tells me it’s so riddled with bullets it’ll probably just pop off its hinges. There also seems to be a lot less gunfire coming from that way now. So I scoot about twelve more inches back and roll to my back. I take a deep breath; lift my knees up to my chest, then kick at the bullet riddled door with all my strength. As predicted the door practically flies off the hinges and for the first time I don’t hear any shooting.

  Suddenly a sweaty bloody Blade appears in the doorway holding a smoldering assault rifle in his hands. Seeing me he immediately drops it and reaches for me to help me out.

  “Holy fuck!” Blade gasps. “You’re fucking alive. I can’t believe it.”

  For the first minutes he can’t seem to say anything but the fact that he can’t believe I’m alive. And me, I only barely feel alive. I ache from head to toe. The whole right side of my face and head feels like it’s on fire and I can feel blood running down my cheek and neck. I start to stand when a sharp pain shoots through my lower leg causing me to go down to the ground.

  “You’re hurt!” He exclaims.

  “No…shit!” I gasp, pointing to my face.

  “But your leg Jenny. You’ve been shot.”

  And that’s when my brain decides I need a break from reality and my whole world goes dark.

  Chapter Two

  Home

  “Hang in there man! Just hang in there.” Blade shouts over the wine of the engine.

  I open my eyes as I slide across the back seat crashing head first into the door as the SUV I’m riding in careens around a corner. My hands grab wildly for something to hold onto before we go around another corner. I look down at my leg. My jeans have been torn off at the knee exposing the large bandage wrapped around my calf. There’s a frighteningly large patch of red where the blood is oozing through.

  A hoarse scream of sheer agony erupts from the seat behind me. I scramble up on my hands and knees and peer over the headrest. The first thing I notice is the blood; lots of it smeared across the light beige leather seats. Slumped against the door is Piper and he does not look good. He’s holding a white towel to his stomach and his face is about the color of the towel. Most of the towel however, is bright red from the man’s blood. Blade is sitting with him and holding a small medical kit across his knees. He appears to be searching for something but it’s tough to do anything in this wildly gyrating vehicle.

  “Open those eyes Piper!” Blade commands. “You stay with me brother, stay with me.”

  Blade returns his attention to the medical kit so I decide to take over the keeping Piper awake duties. It helps me focus on something other than my own pain and fear.

  “Piper!” I holler. “Wake the hell up dude.”

  Piper slowly opens his eyes with a low groan. “You’re hurt.” He observes.

  “It’s nothing.” I tell him. “It doesn’t even hurt.” I lie. “You saved my life you know.” I tell him.

  “Just doing my job ma’am.”

  “No, your job was to drive me back from Belize. Saving my life from angry gunmen; that’s going above and beyond the call of duty.”

  He flashes me a grim smile. “Thank you ma’am.”

  “What are you looking for?” I ask Blade.

  “We used to have some morphine in here but I don’t see it now.”

  “Yeah,” I reply cynically. “One of your brothers probably got high with it. Which hospital we going to?”

  “Sacred Heart.”

  “Are you kidding? That’s not even in Whispering Pines.” I protest.

  “Can’t be helped.” Blade says to me. “We take him to a hospital anywhere near here and we’ll likely be made.”

  “But your friend has a serious wound. He needs medical attention faster than that.”

  “He knows the drill Jen. You get shot you either go to a veterinarian who is a friend of the club or you just go home and suffer in silence.”

  “So we’re just going home?” I shout.

  “No, I said we’re taking him to Sacred Heart in Foster City. We’ll pull up to the emergency exit, roll him out and take off. That’s a far as I’m bending the rules Jen.”

  I open my mouth to protest just as we screech around another corner causing me to scramble for purchase as I get flung across the seat and into the passenger side door. More grunts and swearing from the back seat tell me our patient is still alive and struggling to remain that way.

  “Three minutes out!”
Shouts our driver.

  “You know you can just drop me off at the corner up there.” Piper tells us. “I can walk a block to the hospital.”

  “We’re not going to go this far and take the chance you can’t walk that far.” Blade replies much to my relief. “We drop you at the entrance. That’s not negotiable.”

  I look out the window. A sign with an arrow pointing towards the emergency entrance looms ahead. Our driver mashes the brake, makes a hard left and we’re a half a block from the emergency entrance.

  “Alright Piper get ready.” Blade hollers.

  Piper, with Blade’s help scoots over to the passenger’s side door. He puts his weight into it as our truck screeches to a halt. Blade grabs the door handle and throws his weight into the door. It flies open and Piper literally pops out like a cork on a wine bottle and hits the cement landing with a roll. Blade pulls the door shut even as our driver hits the gas and we shoot across the landing towards the exit. I look back just in time to see two medics pulling up to him with a gurney. He’ll be in safe hands. He’ll probably end up in jail if he’s got warrants like most outlaw bikers but I guess that’s better than death.

  Funny thing, now that Piper is out of our hands and we’re heading back home my own pain returns with a vengeance causing me to moan in spite of myself. Blade immediately climbs over the seat and sits down next to me but he doesn’t say anything. He just sits there in stony silence staring out the window. He and Piper must have been close.

  “You and Piper, you guys were good friends?”

  “He’s a brother.” He barks.

  “Yeah but your club is pretty big. There’s bound to be guys you don’t particularly like;

  No?”

  “No.”

  So much for drawing him out. I look down. He’s got what I assume is Piper’s gun in his lap, one hand clenching it. I decide to try a new tact.

  “Show me how to use it.” I say to him.

  “What?” He asks surprised.

  “You keep sticking guns in my hands and telling to just point and shoot. Why don’t you show me how to hold it for starters?”

  “Well…you ah grab here…tightly, like you’re afraid it’s going to jump out of your hands.”

  Over the next twenty minutes or so I get the finer points of firearm safety and how to hold and shoot a 9mm handgun. Now I kinda feel like if I was ever asked to use one I maybe could hit the broad side of a barn. Our lesson ends as we pull into the parking lot of the Lucky Rabbit’s Foot Bar and Grill.

  “This is it?” I ask in surprise. This is not what I was expecting. Clearly there’s a story to be told here.

  “It’s larger than it looks.” He explains. The actual meeting place is beneath the bar in the basement. There are also eight bachelor pads connected to the bar and we own two large houses at the end of the block, but yeah, that’s it. We’ve been forced into a nomadic existence in order to survive. You saw the signs on the way into town didn’t you?”

  “I did.” I reply through clenched teeth. My leg is really beginning to hurt again.

  “Not only can we not wear our cuts in that town but we really can’t ride our motorcycles in there without getting stopped every five minutes by cops. They run that town like a police state.”

  “Wow.” Clearly there’s a story to tell here. They must have been going through hell while I was sunning myself in Belize. “What happened after I ran out?”

  A dark look crosses his face and I know I’ve touched a deep nerve. “It’s a long story. One that should be told in the comfort of one’s home. You in the meantime need to get your wound looked at. “

  I won’t argue that. I don’t like the idea of having an untreated bullet wound in my body. Our driver kills the engine and he comes around to the door and both he and Blade proceed to get me out of the truck and into the bar without my feet touching the ground. Once we get inside they carry me around to the side of the bar and through a door that says private on it. We pass two doors on the right then go through the first door on the left. It opens into a large room that actually looks like some kind of ward where sick or injured people are treated. The men carry me to a bed and lie me down gently on the clean white sheets.

  “A friend of the club is a nurse. She’ll be here in a few minutes and she’ll get you fixed up.”

  “Thanks.” I groan. “How come you didn’t bring Piper here?”

  “While Nancy has the knowhow to treat bullet wounds, Piper needs access to surgery and obviously we don’t have a hospital hidden back here so…”

  “Got it.”

  I’m about to ask more questions when there’s a soft knocking on the door.

  “Come in.” Blade says.

  The door opens and in walks a tall dark haired woman, may be forty years old with an air of professionalism and confidence about her. Suddenly I’m not worried anymore. Our driver excuses himself and Blade kneels by my side.

  “I’m going to let Nancy work her magic here without me getting in the way. When you’re all fixed up I’ll come back in and check on you. You’re in good hands Jen; the best actually.”

  I nod thanks. I am getting really warn out from the constant pain over the last hour and could really use some pain medication and some sleep. While she works to clean my wound she distracts me with casual talk.

  “You I haven’t seen before. How do you know Blade?”

  “I used to live here up until a couple years ago. So I’ve known him for a few years I guess.”

  “I didn’t realize he had an old lady.” She pries.

  “He doesn’t.” I reply back a little too sharply.

  It’s always a good idea to be pleasant to the one fixing you up, especially when it doesn’t cost you a dime.

  “Oh come on, I can see the way you two look at each other. And he certainly wouldn’t have called me in for a simple flesh wound on a non-member.”

  “I think that’s more than a simple flesh wound.” I reply stiffly.

  “No, it’s a flesh wound. The bullet winged you. I wouldn’t normally give anything more than ibuprofen for the pain but he insisted you get completely pain free so…”

  She produces a syringe and needle with a clear liquid inside.

  “Whatever that is,” I begin. “I don’t need it.”

  “Oh I’m sure you don’t.” She says. “But Blade ordered it so he’ll be pissed at me if I don’t make you comfortable.”

  Then she takes my arm and before I can protest further she jabs the needle in. At first I don’t feel a thing. But after a minute I begin to feel deliciously warm and tingly from head to toe. The pain is gone and I feel like I’m queen for a day and on top of the world. If I’d known I was going to get this shot I’d have volunteered to get shot; totally worth the pain, every darn second of it.

  “Enjoying yourself?” She asks.

  I decide not to respond. I don’t want to disturb my bubble of goodness. My nurse tinkers around for a bit before sitting down in a chair and picking up a book. I guess her orders are to watch me. Oh well, I don’t care now. There ain’t a thing in this world that can take away my good mood now. Well, except for running out of medicine that is. Jeez, I’m starting to think like a drug addict or something. This is some potent stuff this Morphine. At least I think it’s Morphine. I don’t know what else it could be. All the other stuff comes in pill form. For the next few minutes I content myself with my candy land of thoughts until my eyes get too heavy to keep open and I finally give in to the desire to sleep.

  Chapter Three

  My Sweet Dreams

  They say that when it comes to naked bodies that men just are not so pleasing to the eye. Women’s bodies on the other hand can be very beautiful and nice to look at even if you don’t bat for the other team. But oh that Blade! He is the exception to the rule. He’s just come out of the shower and has a blood red towel draped carelessly about his waist. The soft material only just covers his delicious privates as it has slipped far south of his navel. His smooth, musc
ular chest is rendered even tastier by the droplets of water running from his long blond hair, down over his shoulders and down his gorgeous pecs.

  I let my eyes do the walking and let them drift down his thighs to his finely sculpted calves. Few people know the power of a nice pair of calf muscles until you see the pair Blade has on him. It’s no wonder that implants there are one of the most common plastic surgeries for men these days. He even has nice feet. Who has nice feet? I don’t. His toes are long and nicely shaped; no hammer toes there. If I had a foot fetish, and I’m not saying I do, but one could get carried away with his.

  “Lose the towel buddy.” I command as he comes walking over to the bed.

  My eyes drop down to the top edge of the towel, licking my ruby red lips in anticipation. Strong hands, long fingers grasp the towel and with a single tug on the black Egyptian cotton it drops to the floor about his ankles and I get a feast for the eyes. I can’t help my reaction here. My mouth drops open and my eyes bulge out as they sweep down his taut stomach to the base of his cock and my knees buckle on their own accord. As I go down my tongue draws a wet line from the strong line of his jaw, down his neck and over his muscular chest. My nostrils flare as I inhale his masculine scent and the aroma sends a chill up and down my spine. I wonder absently how a man who wears leather and rides a Harley smell like some Greek God and not some kind of smoky, oily cyborg. The taste of his skin is difficult to describe; it’s good. I think I’ll just leave it at that.

  My nose tingles as blonde hairs tickle, causing a very unsexy sneeze. His muscles ripple in reaction to the sudden burst from my mouth but before I totally wreck the mood I plant my open mouth on the base of his cock. I can feel a steady throb against my tongue as I lick my way to his engorged head. Blade gasps as I inhale and the power goes straight to my head and pussy alike. It never ceases to amaze how such a powerful guy like blade can wind up in my thrall, helpless to stop what’s happening to him even if he wanted it to stop.