Everlyn Chapter 24
As I stared at Olav, I should’ve felt some kind of pity, hesitation, or disgust at what I’d suggested be done to him.
But none of those things registered. What did register were images of the awful things he and his kind had perpetrated over the centuries.
The sickening image of him raping Spoiler and Slayer. How many women had he done that to?
My wish was that he could be killed. Yes, murder was supposedly a sin, but in my mind, animals like him were exceptions.
Had my morals changed by being near the Prowlers?
Thinking back, I wasn’t sure they had. My proximity to the club only gave them a reason to surface.
I recalled Jeremiah talking of times when he disagreed with what certain criminals deserved. Jail wasn’t always on his list.
Harbinger brought the torch and lighter forward. Invader, I noted, had taken his handgun out from under his cut.
“Should he be taken outside for the shooting part? If they go through him, won’t they mess up the walls?” I asked.
“The walls, ceiling, and floors throughout this area are coated in ballistic material like our shooting range. That means there are twelve-inch-thick concrete walls covered with hardened steel plates for deflection. Then, special ballistic rubber panels are over that. Those function as bullet traps, baffles, and wall protection that dampen sound, reduce ricochets, and are what’s called self-healing.
It’s made safe like the range is,” Pirate explained.
“I need to go back to the range again. I need to keep up on my sccuracy. We always did it back on Jeremiah’s property or at his hideaway,” I muttered aloud.
“We’ll take you anytime you want. Evie, are you sure you want to be here for this?
It’s going to get messy and ugly. You participated to a point with Caves, but not to the ultimate end.
You don’t need to prove anything to us. And having this on your soul can be heavy,” Zephyr said softly, but the others heard him.
They said nothing, just waited patiently for my decision. I took my time considering what he said and what I thought and felt. I made sure my voice was strong when I eventually answered.
“I know that no one will judge me. And while it may be heavy, it won’t be as heavy on my spirit and heart as not seeing it done.
I’m not only doing it for us, but for the others that they destroyed.
I’m doing it for Sokanon and her village.
If this is all the justice I can get for them, then I want it. ”
Zephyr nodded.
Raider replied. “She knows what she wants. We’ll start with the bullets. If you want to leave at any time, go—no explanation needed. If you want to join in, then do that. Again, no explanation needed.”
“Thank you, I will,” I answered.
Then, I removed my handgun from behind my back.
I was wearing my property cut, which covered it.
When I dressed, I’d automatically slipped my gun there while Zephyr was in the bathroom.
I hadn’t done it to hide it from him. It was just a reflex.
After the shooting during the rally and then yesterday here, I went nowhere without it—not even within the compound or clubhouse.
I saw Zephyr’s eyebrow raise, but he said nothing.
My gun had been a gift from Jeremiah. It was the first gun he’d given me after I learned to shoot.
It was a Glock 42, which, rather than being a 9mm, was a .
380 ACP, an automatic Colt pistol, a designation of the caliber of the ammunition.
It had a single stack, meaning it carried six bullets rather than fifteen like my double-stacked Glock 19, which was a 9mm.
I carried this one on me because of its size and ease of concealment.
I had extra magazines in my purse, or I did.
Now, when I wore my property cut, they were in my pockets.
It could put someone down if you put the bullets in the right spot.
You didn’t have to have a 9mm or a .45 ACP.
“Damn it, she’s a Glock woman too!” Harbinger cried, showing me his Glock 17.
I casually took in what others had in their hands.
As for my man, I knew he had Glocks, too, but he had a Sig Sauer P365 Macro Comp with him today.
It was a nice gun, but I felt more comfortable with my Glocks, probably because they were what I learned on.
Invader handed out earplugs to everyone to protect our hearing, which we inserted right away.
As Harbinger pretended to cry, making me giggle, Olav wasn’t silent.
He was still screaming we couldn’t do this as Barbarian and Plunderer undid his restraints, but only long enough to walk him to a wall and secure his arms by the wrists over his head to a pair of manacles I hadn’t seen.
Olav claimed that if we did, it would be harder on us when Aksel freed him.
He threatened us, women, with disgusting retribution.
His words made my stomach churn. Even the earplugs couldn’t block out everything.
And it was the desire to shut him up that made me step away from the others.
Without pausing, I raised my arm, sighted in from muscle memory, and pulled the trigger once.
Olav screamed as a hole appeared in his shoulder, right where I wanted it to land.
The others all chuckled. After two beats, I fired a second one, nailing him in the exact same place on the opposite shoulder.
“You goddamn bitch!” Olav shouted.
“Your commentary is getting old. Come up with something better.”
I told him nonchalantly, before looking back at the others.
“Who wants to go next? I think it makes a better impression and draws out the suspense longer to go one at a time. You know, choose your favorite spots,” I said cheerfully.
Putting two bullets into Olav didn’t bother me at all. To me, he was a monster, not a person. The club murmured its agreement.
“Ladies first,” Raider added.
Next up was Spoiler. She put two in him, mirroring me, to make it symmetrical.
Her holes appeared on both sides of his abdomen.
When Slayer went, she shot him twice, on either side of his chest, below mine.
Swiftly, each member did the same until Olav stood there, bleeding profusely, head hanging down, his body limp.
The manacles were what held him up, not his legs.
The sounds he made told how much he was hurting.
Without missing a beat, Invader lit the torch. He held it up. “Who wants the honor?”
Pirate stepped forward when no one else did. Invader handed it over. As he approached Olav, loud enough for everyone to hear, Raider asked me.
“Everlyn, what would your ancestors think of how Olav is handling the pain? Would they think him brave and adopt him into the village, or would they kill him?”
“I have to say he’s been less than impressive. They wouldn’t adopt him. They’d probably burn him at the stake. And when they did, they wouldn’t eat his heart to gain his courage. That was only for the truly brave and strong whom they admired.” I replied.
When Pirate laid the flame to the skin of Olav’s chest, right over one of the bullet holes, his scream increased in volume.
The smell of burned flesh made my nose wrinkle and want to gag, but I didn’t.
The odor was intense, like a pungent, sickeningly sour-sweet smell.
It reminded me of rotting meat that had been barbecued.
It was distinct and not one I’d forget. The one benefit of the burning was that it seemed to cauterize the wounds and stop the bleeding.
Pirate was just as methodical with the burns, and so were Invader, Harbinger, and Raider as they took turns.
Every bullet hole was cauterized. I was thankful that the space was well ventilated and had powerful fans that sucked the smoke and smell out of the room, even though it still lingered somewhat and would likely do so for a long time.
Glancing over at the silent Ducky, I noted his eyes were round with horror. I knew what he was thinking. When would his time come, and how would he die? I wondered the same thing.
It didn’t take long to close all the holes. Olav’s legs were completely useless. They bore none of his body weight. He’d pissed himself. Faint whimpers left his mouth. I turned to Zephyr.
“How long will it take for him to recover? Surely, with wounds this extensive, it’ll take more than a day like mine.”
“It depends, but probably three. It’s way faster than he deserves,” he answered.
“While we wait, we have our other guest to deal with,” Norse said softly.
“What are you going to do to him?” I asked.
I didn’t have sympathy for Ducky, but for some reason, I saw him, in part, as a victim of Aksel and his people, like Olav. Yes, he’d done terrible things, but not at the level of them or in the quantity they had.
“Please, please don’t do that to me. I know I have to pay for the terrible things I’ve done. But have mercy and don’t do that to me,” Ducky cried. Tears were streaming down his cheeks.
After a nod from Raider, Fenrir and Zephyr went and removed Ducky from his cell. They had to carry him because he was curled up, begging. They placed him back in the chair that he and Olav had been in. They didn’t bother to restrain him this time.
I was looking back and forth between Ducky and Olav, so I almost missed the final blow.
As Ducky pleaded with Raider, Icelander slipped casually up behind him.
All the Prowlers encircled him, so it didn’t register until Icelander’s arms went around Ducky’s neck and head, then wrenched.
The movement was quick, and I heard a snap.
It wasn't like in the movies. Ducky didn’t die instantly.
Instead, his eyes went wide with fright.
He couldn’t move. We had to watch for a few minutes as he died from the inability to get oxygen to his brain because the spinal cord had been severed by the move.
I admit that it had been a little disturbing to me, but I didn’t leave.
Once Ducky was gone, attention went back to Olav. I figured they’d leave him hanging there to suffer while he healed. Since he couldn’t die, this ritual would be repeated, I had no doubt. I asked.
“How often will you do this again? I know once can’t be enough. Eternal imprisonment hardly feels like enough.”
“You’re right, it’s not enough. As for how often, I have no idea,” Raider admitted.
“We’ve never done this, so it’s a learning experience,” Pirate added.
The others all murmured their agreement. As we discussed it, I heard Olav’s breathing change. It became more labored, and there seemed to be gaps where he wasn’t breathing. Zephyr heard it too. He hurried over to him. The rest of us stood back. Suddenly, Zephyr swung back around.
“I need a stethoscope and BP cuff,” he said urgently.
It was Spoiler who ran out of the room to get it, no doubt from the clinical room I’d been taken to when I was shot. She returned swiftly, still running. She handed them to Zephyr.
There was no conversation, just tension and the sound of breathing in the air. Zephyr listened to Olav’s heart, then placed and pumped up the BP cuff. When it finished hissing out air, he glanced back at us. His expression was stunned.
“His blood pressure is low. His heart is skipping beats, and his lungs are failing. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s dying.”
This revelation electrified the room. A confused babble broke out.
Everyone speculated and denied it was possible.
But as time ticked by and Zephyr kept rechecking Olav’s vital signs, they continued to worsen.
The episodes of apnea, the no breathing, grew longer.
Eventually, his breathing took on a rattling sound.
“That’s a death rattle,” Slayer murmured.
“Zephyr, could he truly be dying?” Raider finally asked after half an hour of Olav’s worsening condition.
Olav was no longer making any noise and was barely arousable when Zephyr tried to get him to speak.
“Pres, I think he is,” my man replied.
“So the other part of the curse is true? But why would he be dying? It should be one of us,” Barbarian remarked.
“Either Gunther was wrong, or maybe both sides can be killed if someone finds their true love,” Slayer stated.
This possibility changed things, but no one knew how. Were we vulnerable, or were only Aksel and his people? And the only way to know was to have one of us inflicted with a mortal injury. It wasn’t anything we were willing to test.
Twenty minutes later, Olav expired. The club was still stunned. However, Raider was the leader, keeping everyone on task.
“I know this is a shock for all of us. And we’re not sure of its implications for us. However, we can’t allow this to pass without using it to our advantage. Aksel needs to know that Olav is gone, and that the entire Albany chapter is gone too. And that his men, and presumably him, can be killed.”
“What do you suggest we do?” Pirate asked.
“We call him using Olav’s phone. We make it a video call, and we show him that his man is dead. We can’t risk sending Olav’s body or head to Wisconsin. We put the fear of the gods into him and see if that makes him back off.”
“So we don’t go there and push our advantage?” Harbinger asked.
“We do, but since timing is everything, we’ll see if Bone’s chapter will go again for us.
I want to strike while they’re scrambling.
And that’s too long a ride to do it ourselves.
That’s over an eighteen-hour ride. Let me get on the phone with Bone first before we call Aksel.
That’ll give them a slight head start,” Raider explained.
As he went to make the call, the rest of us stayed in the room, talked in groups, and waited.