Chapter 7 Void
“Get the fuck down!” I shouted at Diesel as his arm got grazed by a bullet. Blood soaked into the material of his jacket, dripping from his elbow as he cradled it against his chest. “We need to get Becca out of here! Now!”
He looked stricken. Pissed. Nearly unhinged. “Rev is hit!”
I knew. I fucking saw him go down beside Becca in the truck bed. I couldn’t do shit to stop this attack, but I could help Rev and Becca once I climbed in with them. “I’m gonna hop in the back and get the cover over us. Move!”
He nodded, already crouching low before he rushed to the driver’s side door and hauled himself into the seat. The door slammed shut seconds before another bullet lodged in the panel. He had left the engine running, which saved us precious time.
I threw myself into the back of the truck, pulling the tailgate up and reaching for the cover. The only thought in my head was protecting us from more bullets and the relentless weather. I felt something bite into my neck and then a sting, but I couldn’t risk leaving us exposed.
Once I had the cover in place, I crawled to Becca, ignoring the wet, sticky feel of the skin on my neck. I was injured, but it wasn’t critical. I could wait to triage myself. Rev and Becca needed help first.
I had never been this fucking scared in my life, pushing my fingers to Becca’s carotid artery to check for her pulse.
For a few seconds, I couldn’t find it. When I finally did, it held steady even if she remained unconscious.
A breath released from my chest as I rolled onto my back, wedged against the side of the truck.
I’d leave her in the middle, so my body and Rev’s shielded her further.
I thought I could hear the ping of additional bullets hitting the frame around us as Diesel pulled away from the crash site. We jostled against one another as the uneven ground, due to heavy snow and ice accumulation, made smooth travel impossible. I cursed as Becca moaned.
Rev wasn’t moving. He didn’t wake up to speak or yell at us to slow down.
I heard his shallow breathing, so I knew he wasn’t dead, but I was concerned.
It was dark beneath the cover, not enough light to assess anyone by sight.
All I could do was check for his pulse as I tried not to squish Becca beneath me.
I knew I needed to get pressure on his wound, but it proved almost impossible.
I managed to wedge a blanket against the truck and pushed his shoulder against it, not liking the amount of blood I could feel soaked into the fabric of his clothes.
He was losing too much. He groaned with the pain as we jerked to the side, then straightened.
The truck must be sliding all over the road.
My fingers were slick with sweat or blood. Maybe both. I wiped them on my jeans and then reached into my pocket for my phone. As silly as it seemed, I dialed Diesel’s number.
“Hey,” he answered on the first ring. “You okay back there?”
“Hell no. We’re jostling all over the fucking place.”
“Yeah. Not much I can do about that.”
“Where are we heading? Because we can’t take Becca to the clubhouse or home. Too risky.”
“I was just thinking the same thing. Far as I can tell, there’s no one on our ass.”
“Yet,” I clarified. We weren’t safe until I knew for sure and could track through my laptop.
“Right. You got a plan?”
I did. “I’m going to give you an address. It’s a few miles away, but I think we can make it.” We’d have to make it because there weren’t any other options. The hospital was too far, and we needed shelter—a place to hide from whoever shot at us.
“I’ll get us there. Tell me.”
I rattled it off from memory, not needing to double-check that I was right.
People called me paranoid because I was a conspiracy theorist and a hoarder.
If they saw as much shit as I did online and in my cameras, they’d be fucking scared and paranoid too.
I was a prepper. That meant I had several safe houses on private property with no links to the club or any members. Not even Becca.
More than that, I was prepared for something like this, apocalypse or not.
All the locations were stocked with food, water, weapons, medical supplies, and enough to survive for six months without ever having to leave.
That meant we had time to figure out who came after Becca, help her recover, and plan a way to take those motherfuckers out.
“Are they stable back there?”
Diesel sounded fairly calm considering he was shot, losing blood, and driving wounded people to a safe house while he tried not to kill us during a snowstorm. Kudos to him.
“As best as I can do. It’s fucking dark back here. I can’t see shit. Just trying to keep pressure on Rev’s shoulder and prevent Becca from sliding all over the bed.”
“Keep her pinned between you two. There’s enough ego and brute mass to hold her in place.”
Ha. Ha. “Oh, you got jokes right now. Wonderful.”
“And you never stop with the sarcasm.” He was fighting a smile. I could tell.
“They’re both breathing and unconscious. Maybe that’s a good thing right now.”
“Yeah,” Diesel agreed. “They’re both gonna be in a lot of pain when they wake up.”
“I’ve got everything we need at the safe house,” I assured him. “We’ll be fine.”
I was starting to feel a little lightheaded, but that was probably from all the excitement and being in a closed space with two other people. My hand rose to my neck, and I felt fresh blood trickle over my fingers. Shit. I should probably find something to wrap around it.
Digging into my cut, I searched the pockets for a bandana. When I found it, I pulled the cloth out and tied it around my throat. It wouldn’t apply enough pressure to do much, but maybe it would help with the blood loss.
“You’re quiet back there,” Diesel prodded. “You still good?”
“I will be when we get to the safe house.”
“Roads are even worse than when we started.”
We hit a bump of some kind, and all of us bumped into one another like a bunch of matchsticks in a box. I cursed as a small metal object rolled across the bed and slammed into the top of my head. “Fuck!”
“Shit! Sorry!”
Diesel was doing the best he could. I had to remember that. My skull throbbed, and I felt my eyes closing, no longer able to keep them open. “Diesel.” His name came out slurred.
“Void?” When I didn’t answer, he shouted my name. “Void! You pain in the ass! Don’t you punk out now!”
“Fuck off,” I mumbled, eyes remaining closed.
“Hang in there, brother.” I heard him clear his throat. “Are you hit?”
Funny, he never asked until now. “Yeah.”
“Where?”
“My neck.”
The line went quiet for a few heartbeats. “Don’t you fucking die on me, Void.”
“Not . . . planning . . .” I couldn’t finish. My body took over, forcing me to shut down.
I must have needed it.
SOMEONE WAS SLAPPING my cheeks. It hurt.
“Stop,” I mumbled, slowly coming back into awareness.
“There you are. How the fuck do I get inside, Void? Is there a key?”
A key? To where? “Huh?”
Diesel growled his response, “The fucking safe house, Void.”
Oh. Right. “Keypad.”
“I don’t see one.”
“To the left of the door.” I blinked, opening my eyes just as snow fell into them. Fun. “Open the metal box.”
“Oh. What’s the code?”
I gave it to him.
Diesel disappeared as my eyes closed. I wasn’t sure how long I stayed in the bed of the truck, waiting as he unlocked the door, lifted Becca, and carried her inside, and then returned for Rev. Felt like forever before he finally came back for me.
“Jesus Christ. How much have you been eating, Void?”
“Fuck off. I weigh less than Rev.” I was finally starting to wake up, coherence returning as bright light inside the building forced my eyes to squint. “Don’t forget my laptop. Make sure you cover your truck with a tarp.”
He nodded. “Where are they?”
I told him where to go once he placed me in the infirmary beside Becca and Rev. Luckily, I had set up three beds and enough supplies to cover injuries, even critical ones, for multiple individuals. We had enough to treat our wounds and blood loss.
Diesel stumbled inside, locking the front entrance and setting the alarm per my instructions as I called them out. He set my laptop bag on the floor beside me and nearly stumbled as he sank into a nearby chair. “Just need five minutes.”
And just like that, his eyes shut, and he was asleep. Despite the wound he received from the bullet grazing his upper arm, Diesel didn’t lose too much blood. It was the adrenaline and exhaustion that did him in.
I’d fuck with him later about it.
Right now, I need to check on Rev and Becca. I had rested enough that I felt renewed with energy and decided I needed to help the others before I had to close my eyes again. Using the equipment on hand and what medical training I had, I performed a quick assessment, checking for injuries.
She was going to be okay. No broken bones or fractures. But she was bruised, covered with tiny cuts and several deep lacerations, and she probably had a concussion. I couldn’t rule that out or assess it until she woke up. After covering her with a blanket, I turned to Rev.
The bullet was still lodged in his shoulder. I had to remove it and didn’t hesitate to gather what I needed before I strapped him down. Yeah, I had straps on the beds. It wasn’t for anything kinky. I just prepped for every scenario I could think of.
He didn’t move as I cleaned the wound, only stirring when I began propping the wound for the bullet. I know it had to hurt like hell. When his eyes popped open, and he struggled against the straps, I knew I made the right call. “What the fuck!? Void!”
“Hey, shut up, fucker. I need to concentrate.”
“I swear to fuck, I will . . . shit! What are you doing!?”
“Digging the bullet out of your shoulder. Hold still.”
His eyes widened, and everything came crashing back as I finally found the bullet and pulled it free. Fresh blood began to pour from the open wound, and I applied pressure as Revenant began to hurl insults and shout obscenities.
“You really can’t take pain, big guy.”
“You’re wrong,” he growled.
Wait. Becca was awake!
“Hey, Blackbird,” I greeted her warmly, ignoring my hand on Rev’s wound. “How are you feeling?”
“Like someone ran over me with a truck. “ She winced. “Did one of you do it?”
I chuckled. “No. Damn snowstorm out there.”
“Oh. Right.” She blinked, resting back against the bed, and averted her eyes. “Is everyone okay?”
“No, but we will be,” I assured her.
Rev turned his head, staring at Becca. “B. B.”
Becca sighed. “Give me a few minutes. Please,” she added.
“Alright, baby.”
I didn’t focus on their interaction, but on the task at hand. More than once, I had to ask Rev for guidance on cleaning, sewing up, and bandaging his wound. He’d have a gnarly scar, and it cut through one of his tattoos. But he was alive. He survived.
We all did.
I wasn’t sure how much Becca remembered, so I gave her space and went to Diesel, waking him up, and ordering him onto the only vacant bed.
As he flipped me off, he reached for Becca’s hand, squeezing it before he lifted his feet and lay down. There wasn’t much to do except to clean and dress his laceration. He needed a few stitches, but waved me off, insisting it could be taken care of later.
There wouldn’t be a later. He’d probably staple it shut or sew it himself, the arrogant bastard. I had to admit he was tough as they came. Same with Rev. Not once did either of them moan, complain, or betray the pain I knew they were in.
Finally collapsing in the chair, I kicked out my feet, closed my eyes, and slept.