10. Poe
10
POE
Damn, Paige looks good with her tan legs straddling Savage’s bike and her sun streaked hair whipping in the wind. She’s fucking made to ride. I can’t even be pissed that Savage called first rights, because it means I get to watch her fall in love with the road. There's nothing better than the wind in your face, the sun at your back and a wide open highway on a hot summer day.
Are there times when the weather’s shit and the days are so long that a desk job and an SUV start to sound tempting? Sure, but it never lasts. I would die a little each day in a life like that. The second I walk into the club and someone throws me a beer, or the sun hits me on a day like today, I know in my bones I made the right choice.
Paige looks my way with a wild grin. She’s clinging to Savage like she's about to blow off any moment and she doesn’t care one bit. She’s got a lesson coming, though. Her legs are going to be fucking jello later. It’s a long ride back. Maybe she’ll let me massage them back to life.
I slide in behind them so I can enjoy the rear view. I’m really fucking glad we aren’t turning her in. We almost walked away after meeting her in the diner. If it hadn’t been for worrying about the other hunters, we might’ve. The whole situation felt off from the start, but now I don’t have to feel fucking guilty about wondering what her ass would feel like in my hands.
Shit, it was hard to ignore the noises she was making when it was my turn to watch her last night. Either her dreams were bad, or really damn good.
Don’t know why I fucking read her to sleep. I’ve never done that for anyone before. It just felt right.
There’s a change in the constant noise of the road that triggers my instincts. I look over my shoulder and see several cars and motorcycles that look too coordinated to be a random burst of traffic. They’re using both lanes, blocking anyone else from passing. What the fuck?
I pull up next to Savage and point behind us. I can't hear what he says when he looks over, but everyone knows what the shape of “Fuck” looks like on someone’s lips. He tilts his head, ordering me back to run cover with Crank. At this point, we’ve worked together so long that we can almost read each other's minds.
I let myself fall back until I’m right next to Crank in the driver's seat. He's got the music on so fucking loud he hasn't noticed me, at least not until I slam my palm into the side of the door. He raises his eyebrows in question, and I point behind us.
He checks the mirrors and frowns. Whatever's coming, it’s gonna get real fucking messy.
Savage rides ahead, getting Paige to a safer position and leaving me and Crank behind to slow our tail.
We hold steady, just waiting to see what the gang behind us do. Are we being paranoid, or are they actually targeting us? And if they are, why? Is it Paige, or just assholes that saw the cuts and wanna make trouble?
The answer to the first question is clear enough when a gun goes off and the bullet passes by my head close enough that I can hear the whine over the rumble of our bikes and the roar of the wind. Fuck. Crank waves for me to get ahead of him, looking furious. It’s usually hard to get him to take anything seriously, but when shit starts to go down, he’s a fucking monster.
And shit’s about to go down.
I crank the throttle, putting the van between me and the tails. It’s not quite military grade, but it’s got enough armor to deal with standard issue ammo. I close the distance to Savage and mimic a gun with my hand. Paige’s eyes go wide with shock, but he just nods, cool as ice. And here we thought this was going to be an easy job. Motherfucker.
Savage veers for the exit coming up. We're sitting ducks on the highway. Crank follows, keeping the van between us and the bullets. At the speed we're going, gunshots are hard to make out, but if the muted thuds behind us is any indication, we'll be picking lead out of the van's back doors for weeks.
My teeth rattle as I take the exit early and hit the end of the rumble strip. Like a fucking earthquake. The ramp curves dangerously, and I have to lean low to make it. Savage and Paige are just to my left. She's clinging to him like a monkey, pale as a fucking ghost but following his lead. He's a damn good rider, but a lucky shot could take them both out.
Thank fuck the intersection’s clear when we hit the end of the ramp, because we aren’t stopping for the fucking light. Someone honks, but I don’t give a shit. A glance over my shoulder shows our tails heading down the highway ramp right behind us. At least they’ve been funneled into a single lane, though their motorcycles are pulling ahead of the group and heading right for us.
The first one to close in points something that looks high caliber in my direction. I draw and fire in one motion, before he gets his shot off. The rider flies backwards into the road, and his bike veers into the oncoming lane, jumping the guardrail when it hits. His body disappears under one of his buddies' cars.
Ouch. One down, but the rest are closing fast
Our van's not built for racing. The car that ran over the body doesn’t even slow down. It rides right up next to the van and bumps it. I fire a couple shots their way, but they don't back off. Then metal grinds as they push into the van again, harder this time. Fuck, they're trying to run him off the road.
Crank's doing his best to keep his wheels on the road. The van's heavier, but the bike trailer is throwing off the balance. He veers hard to the left and the trailer hops sideways on one wheel, but luckily lands flat.
I fire a couple more shots towards the driver’s side of the following car, trying to throw it off. The side mirror and windshield shatter, giving me a brief flash of a snarling face before it swerves through the right lane, over the shoulder and into a ditch.
Maybe we can make it outta here after all.
We’re driving parallel to the highway on a local road dotted with infrequent gas stations and run down stripmalls. If we can lose these fuckers and get back up there, maybe we can?—
A second car slams into the back of the trailer, fishtailing the back of the van. This time there's no recovery for Crank. He manages to straighten out, but only by letting it go the way it wants, which is off the side of the road. The van clips the side of a sign, and the shriek of metal on metal makes my hair stand on end. The van barrels straight into the empty parking lot of an abandoned truck stop with a billboard advertising gas, food, porn and free coffee. The trailer bounces off a concrete barrier on the way in, making me wince. I follow. If anything happens to that bike, Crank’s gonna be out for blood.
Instead of slowing down, the van speeds up. What the hell?
Crank aims straight at a pair of double doors on the front of the building and rams them hard enough to send the van partway into the building. A little ahead, Savage pulls in through the exit to the parking lot. To her credit, Paige isn’t screaming, but that might just be because she’s too freaked out. We dump our bikes around the side and Savage keeps Paige between his body and the side of the building as we stay low and rush to check on Crank. Every second with no cover feels like an eternity.
The van door is open and there’s glass everywhere. “Crank!”
“In here!”
We round the front of the van just in time to see one of Eddy’s guys coming around the other side. He raises his gun, but he’s slow as fuck. By the time he has his hand up, he’s already dead. The body stands for a second with a neat little hole right in his forehead before collapsing backwards into the wall. Idiot. If you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing, stay home.
Paige screams, and Savage is quick to slap a hand over her mouth. “Save it for later,” he snarls.
She whimpers, but nods.
Crank's crouched down just inside the store, holding his head in his hands. He pulls one away and there’s blood on his fingers, but he’s conscious and breathing.
“How you doing, man? Pop any leaks?” I keep looking behind to catch any more of those fuckers sneaking up on us. “That was one of Eddy’s. There were what, six of them at the diner?”
Savage nods. “Yeah. But I have a feeling he went for backup.”
Crank blinks as he raises his head to look around. There's a solid gash on his forehead, dripping blood into his eyes. He wipes it away with his hand, making himself look like a fucking wildman. “I’m good. Head’s going to be fucking pounding tomorrow, though.”
I glance out of the ruined entrance. The rest of our tails are waiting outside, regrouping.
“You good to run? We gotta get the fuck outta the van and inside.”
His clouded eyes sharpen as I watch. “Fuck. Paige and Savage?”
“We’re okay,” Paige answers in a shaky voice.
“Alright, come on. Get farther in because they’re not gonna sit out there forever.” Savage has drawn his iron and points deeper into the store with it. “If we’re lucky, we can pick them off as they come in.”
I put my hand on Crank’s shoulder as he tries to stand and wobbles a little the first time. He brushes off the help. “If they fucked up my bike I’m going to murder every fucking one of them. And if they’re already dead, I’m going to Frankenstein them together and murder them again.”
“I know, buddy. Come on.”
Fully inside the store, it takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Dust hangs heavy in the air, but the shelves around us are still full. It looks like the owner just gave up and left one day.
“Damn.”
Dildos. Dildos everywhere.