by Paula Cox
I’m not going to sit back and see. I look up towards the balcony. My guys are gone. They’re most likely already on the ground, circling in on Riley and Anna just like I am. I finally make it to the back of her booth. A thin cloth drape and a fake white, knee-high fence is the only thing blocking the back entrance. I don’t even bother checking the rest of the security or calling for backup. I jump in, waving my arm through the material barricade while holding tight to the gun in my waistband.
“Riley, you don’t have to do this. Just let my mom go and we can figure this out… you and me.” Anna’s voice quakes. I can’t see her crouched behind the sink, but I can see the outline of her mom clutching to her shoulders. Both women look so small, so insignificant as they continue to be backed further into the booth.
I pop up, brandishing my gun directly at his long, unshaven face. His furrowed brow and streaks of dirt and dust on his face make it look as if he’s much older than he actually is. It’s the face of a man who hasn’t slept in months. And the scratch marks along his cheeks give it away that he hasn’t exactly been clean lately either.
My voice booms as loudly as I can. It cuts through the noise of the echoing convention center. “Drop it, Riley. Let her go, and I may let you live.” He turns slowly towards me, his hands in the air. I look the man up and down. He’s skinnier than I imagined him as well. Through his oversized shirt, you can easily spot the gun strapped to his hip.
“I’ve got no beef with you, Mack. But I’ve got twenty guys out there ready to start hell if you don’t drop that gun and step out of this booth. This is between me and my girl.”
“I’m not your girl, Riley,” Anna mutters stupidly. Normally, I admire this kind of bravery, but she’s just asking for it now.
“You will do what I say or I will make sure every man you gave that tattoo gets the same fate Ian got… or worse. You hear me?” He shouts at her like a dog on a leash. Anna seems to only get bolder because of this. Her shoulders arc back and her head raises. Her mom removes her hands from her arms, as if to let her go off of her muzzle.
“I’m going to count to five, and if you’re not out of here, I don’t care how many men are waiting for you, I will shoot you dead.” I give my warning, watching as his hand naturally falls to his own weapon, but with it tucked underneath his shirt, he knows he’s not going to be fast enough for me. When he doesn’t move, I begin to count, “ONE! TWO!”
“I’ll be back for you, Anna. You think this is over, but it’s just beginning. That tattoo is my mark now. And no one, not even you, gets out of it.”
“THREE!” I yell even louder. The noise from outside picks up as I hear Zeke shouting at the men blocking the door. Someone screams something about a gun. A long, horrible yell shoots up from the crowd. There’s a pounding of footsteps as everyone runs towards the exits just to the side of Anna’s booth. It’s a stampede with pushing and cursing.
Riley backs out of the booth, but not before turning towards me and adding, “This isn’t over for you either. You’re giving me exactly what I want—an excuse to take the Dragons down. I swear that you’ll end up on the gravel just like your daddy did the last time you decided to mess with the Knights.”
Without another word, he and his men slip into the crowd, dispersing themselves in the sea of black and white shirts and jackets. My men flood the booth, but I can’t even register them. I drop my gun as I grab hold of Anna, pulling her tight to my chest. Her body feels colder, less present, almost like water in a stream. She slips through my arms before turning back to her mother.
“You’ve got to go, mom. I’m so sorry, but I’ll call you as soon as I can, and there will be someone watching out for you.” She turns back towards me. “You’ll be safe. I promise you.”
“Anna…” Her mom looks up suspiciously at me as if I am the root of all her problems. I don’t blame her. I just jumped into this booth with a gun in my hands while Riley was seemingly unarmed and nonviolent. “Anna, just come with me. We’ll go away. We’ll figure this out.”
“She can’t do that, ma’am.” Zeke suddenly appears out of nowhere. He’s clutching a walkie in one hand that’s going crazy with voices barking back and forth to one another. In his other is a police scanner. I should have known this would trigger something from the five-oh. Unfortunately, this isn’t my territory. There’s no friendly detective to come get us out of this jam. We have to move.
“Who the hell are these guys, Anna? What have you gotten yourself into?” Her mom’s face is as white as a sheet. Her bottom lip trembles at the sight of us.
“This is Mack and Zeke. They’ve been taking care of me since… well, since Riley decided to put a hit on me. I didn’t want to tell you, mom. I didn’t want to worry you, but this is what’s been going on.” She looks over at me, tears filling her eyes. She knows what she has to do. “I am so sorry that you’re here for this and that you had to find out like this, but right now, I need you to go. One of the guys will walk you to the car and make sure you are home safe. And I’ll call you as soon as I can. I have to go with them, Mom. I have to…”
“We need to go,” I say impatiently. “I’m sorry.” I whistle towards the two spotters from the balcony. They come running towards me, realizing the urgency. While Anna and her mom cling to one another in a tight hug, I explain where they need to go with Anna’s mom. They grab her by the arm and escort her out. I watch in horror as she screams Anna’s name one more time. She too disappears into the crowd with the rest of the remaining people.
Anna holds her arms across her chest. I grab the sweatshirt she left on the sink, placing it in her hands before marching her out in front of me. Zeke and I talk logistics behind her. “We can’t go back to the safe house. They may have followed us from there or retraced our route. We need some place remote, some place safe.”
Zeke surprises me with how quickly he comes up with a response. “I have an idea. Icky, the dealer from 5th Street, has a cabin at the Mile Above Campground. He uses it to distribute to hikers and hippies at music festivals. It’s past the season, so I am pretty sure it’ll be empty. No one will even think to look for you there.”
“You call him, and I’ll get us on the highway. When you get the confirmation, text me the address and the way to get in. If you don’t hear from us by 5 PM, we’re not safe. Send the riders out.” The riders were code for our enforcers. The toughest, baddest guys in the group, they were the ones you trusted to do what was necessary to get answers out of your enemies. They were also hunters trained to stalk their prey. I have no doubt that if something were to happen to us, they would be able to pull off the right kind of vengeance in my honor.
“That sounds like a plan, Mack. But there’s a bigger problem now.” Zeke places his ear towards the police scanner, struggling to hear. “They’ve got your description along with hers. They think you’re the attacker.”
“How far away are they?” I ask, my eyes floating back and forth to Anna who looks as if she’s about seconds away from fainting. I place my hand upon her back to keep her steady.
“Three… four blocks. The van is parked outside and ready to go. Your bike is the back so you can always ditch it on the highway if you have to. But that’s not the only problem…”
“Jesus! What?” I just want to get the fuck out of here.
“It’s Riley. The Knights are surrounding the perimeters of the place, laying low. Our boys caught a few of them and chased them out, but they are going to be looking for you and her. We can buy you some time, but it may not be enough if the police are on our tail too.”
“Whatever you can do. Just give us a head start, and I’ll do the rest.” Without waiting around to hear what other complication Zeke could think of, I grab Anna’s hand and run her straight towards the door. The few remaining people are slowly moving out both confused and terrified. They murmur together about shooters and killers. Some are still talking about the Knights, but I hear the Dragons mentioned at least once too. It’s only seconds until I hear som
eone call my name and put two and two together.
Rico is there with the cargo van we use to transport our antique bike collection to shows. When he spots me, he runs around to open the passenger door for Anna. But I stop him. “She’s in the back.”
Anna reels around with a look of horror. “What? I’m not going to sit in the back of your van, Mack! You’re not kidnapping me.”
I walk quickly over to her, grabbing her arm with such force that I worry I could break it. “I’m not kidnapping you. I’m keeping you safe. You heard Zeke. There are cops and Knights everywhere. If they spot both of us together, the more likely they are going to come at us with full force. If they think we’re leaving separately, more will stay behind to keep a look out.”
“No. No. I’m not going to do it,” she says shaking her head. “I either ride with you or I don’t at all.”
I spit on the ground before growling, “You don’t have a fucking say in this.” My hands sweep around her legs, picking her up off the ground. She doesn’t have time to do anything but kick and hurl fists at my back before I can toss her into the back. “Sit down and shut up. Those seats fold down so you have somewhere to go.” I have seconds to close the door before she comes charging at me. Her fists pound into the back of the van.
“You want me to follow behind, boss? I can give them hell if you need me to.” Rico looks down at the ground, his hands behind his back. He doesn’t really want this. As much as I appreciate his loyalty, he knows that backing me up would be a death sentence.
“No, kid. You go the opposite way as me. If they come after you, you call the club and get some runners to find you. And then you don’t stop until you get back to the clubhouse.” I pat him on the back, thanking him for all that he’s done today. With that, I’m off. The wheels of the van spin with a screech. They only barely mask the sound of police sirens wailing in the nearby distance.
I have to remind myself to slow down, to not cause any civilian to call the police on some erratic driver. This isn’t like the movies where I’m going to break through some chain link fence to avoid getting caught. If I was going to get us to that cabin, I needed to play it safe and cool—the exact opposite of what I am used to.
Anna didn’t get the memo about the cool factor either. She’s still screaming my name. I turn the wheel so we take a sharp curve out of the parking lot. As I suspected, I hear the light pounding of a body against the opposite wall and floor of the van. “Sit down and shut up, and I won’t do that again.” She doesn’t make a sound for another mile.
It’s not until we’re in the country, way past the lights of the city, that I see the first motorcycle of the late afternoon. At first, I don’t think anything of it. He’s not doing what a trained rider would do if they were out hunting. His lights were on, he kept to a lane. He didn’t go level with my window only to fall back later on. And as a single rider, he had no backup.
But still, I kept my eye on him. With us being the only two on the road and the plump rain clouds moving in, something wasn’t sitting right with this. In the mirror, I watch as he places a hand to the bluetooth earpiece in his helmet. He has to have taken at least four or five calls in minutes. Between the calls, he looks back on the empty road, as if he’s expecting something. Finally, the man swerves slowly towards the side of the road, pulling over along the ditch with his headlight flashing. I breathe a sigh of relief—just a broken down bike and a novice rider.
I close my eyes for a second, letting that anxiety roll off of me. I loosen my grip on the steering wheel and call back to Anna, but there’s no response. My eyes pop open to see the glare of lights flashing in my rearview mirror. That one small headlight from the previous biker has turned into five, single flickering lights headed directly towards the van.
“Jesus! Fuck!” I shout uncontrollably. “Anna! Whatever you’re doing back there, get down on the ground and don’t move no matter what.” I pound on the metal divider, listening to her as she falls back down on the ground with another muffled thud.
The motorcycles inch towards me, cautiously. I wonder what they are thinking about me in this van. Are they sure it’s even me or just someone leaving the convention? Could they tell that Anna is back there or maybe they’re worried it was someone else? The wait is killing me. I don’t play road chicken, even with renegades like the Knights. I have to be on the offense here, no matter the cost.
I take a deep breath before making my final decision. My hands grip the steering wheel before slowing down to a snail’s pace. The bikes don’t have time to slow down. They can only react. I hear the first shot ring out from the leader of the pack. It hits just above my passenger side window with a loud ping. Anna lets out a blood curdling scream, and I swerve from the action. The back of my van hits something, veering into the noise and bump with a crunch and then a dull smack. I pick my head out of the driver’s window in time to see the wheels of one of the bikes soaring through the air. The helmetless driver lands just feet from it in the ditch.
Four down. One to go. I pull myself back in, just missing the next shot fired from my side. It strikes the side of the van, and once again Anna sobs. I can’t do this any longer. I stretch my free arm out the side with my glock tight in my grip. I fire randomly into the air, not caring where those bullets land. If it’s a distraction, it gives me just enough time to think this through.
And then it hits—whether it be mine or theirs, a bullet strikes my back drivers’ tire with the most horrible noise I have ever heard. Air comes seeping out faster than I can react and the tire turns to discarded shards on the highway. Without the tire, the van veers zig-zagged into the three lanes. I have zero control on anything but the speed. That’s when the idea strikes.
“Anna! Hold on! We’re getting out of here!” I press my foot to the gas, the exact opposite of what you’re told to do when you lose a tire. The van shoots around to the opposite side at nearly ninety miles per hour. Men scream as their bikes can’t avoid the speed and the size of the cargo van twisting and turning itself all over the highway. All I can do is duck and wait for it to slow to a stop. It crashes and clonks against battered metal and cement. Sparks fly as it finally skids along the barrier between the north and south highway. Before it can turn again, it hits the mark right on, smashing into a road block sign.
Everything is extraordinarily quiet. A small buzz rings in my ear, but it fades away as I pick myself up to the seat again, unfastening myself from the driver's side. I lay there for a moment, counting seconds. If we were still in danger, someone would have come within these quiet seconds. But when no one does, when all I can hear is the hums of the van still running and all I can smell and see is black, billowing smoke, I know I have my answer.
“Anna?” I call back as I turn slowly back to the cargo area. I find the latch for the door and pull myself towards it. She’s still laying on the floor, her hands covering her head. My bike has tipped over at her feet, but other than that, she looks like she’s scratch-free. Still, I ask, “Are you okay?”
“I—I think so. What happened?” She picks her head up slowly from the ground. Her face is stained with streaks for tears and her eyeliner runs trails of black around the corners.
I lie and say, “I don’t know. Let me go check.”
“No!” she cries back, standing quickly to her feet. “I’m going with you. No matter what happens, from now on, I go with you.” Anna reaches out for my hand, using it to pull herself into the front part of the van. As she passes to the front, she falls into my lap, her arms dangling exhausted over my neck.
For a moment, we hold one another close, neither saying a word. She’s already said enough for the both of us.
CHAPTER 14
Don’t look back. Whatever you do, Anna, just don’t look back.
“Are they?... Did you ki—?” I can’t even get the words out of my mouth. All I can seem to do is shake and swallow back the a mucus-flavored thickness in my throat.
Mack doesn’t answer right away, either.
Instead, he just sort of tightens his grip around my slender waist ever so slightly tighter. “I—I’m honestly—I’m not sure,” he finally says as shuffles anxiously in his seat.
I move over to the passenger side while he takes out his phone, a quiet determination coming over his eyes. “But,” he adds almost as an afterthought, “I need to go find out. Now.” He grabs the gun from its perch on the dash before slowly opening the van door. He looks over at me solemnly to say, “Whatever happens, you stay in here. I don’t care what you see, I don’t care what you hear, you get me? I do not want you running out there, running into trouble. You take the keys and the phone, and you get the hell out of here as fast as you can. Get me?”
The stack of metal keys fall into my lap along with his old-school flip phone. The face is lighting up with a message, but he’s already gone investigating whatever scene of chaos is outside the van. I close my eyes and sigh heavily to myself—my only way of letting my breath catch up with me. My thumb rubs on the edges of the flip phone until I convince myself that I should see whatever message is waiting for him.
