3. Lazarus
Lazarus
It’s been a week since Phoenix and Zephyr were separated.
A very long week. Every day, Phoenix looks more pulled into the void of despair.
His sleep pattern is already irregular, and he cycles from not being hungry to eating everything in the fridge and cupboards in six hours.
Productivity and contributing to the workings of the club have been nonexistent.
But the worst part is that he’s started to pick fights with other members.
I don’t think too deeply about the possibility of him not surviving until they’re reunited.
I pray to God that He doesn’t let Phoenix give up hope.
I pray that Zephyr finds the easiest path through his incarceration.
And I pray, for myself, and the strength to hold us all together, since I, too, feel sorrowful.
The apartment is much quieter and a part of me dislikes the disturbance in the disorder of our lives.
“Are you ready?” Mayhem drops his hand on the back of my shoulder upon his approach.
We’re standing in shadows near the panel van, the side door slid open and the low glow of a monitor illuminating our faces.
“Yes,” I respond in short.
I affix the gun he provided into my holster. It is an unnecessary weapon, but I’ve learned to carry it to make my club brothers feel more at ease.
My shadow protects me far more than the gun does.
“I can’t believe the intel the twins found was good.” Mayhem looks across the van at the security video feed Techno has pulled up on the monitor.
A lone alpha stands in a dark alleyway, protecting an unassuming door. The red tip of his cigarette glows when he places it between his lips.
“You should not doubt them so much. They may be young and make young men’s decisions, but they’re both competent.
” I look at Mayhem, disliking his criticism of Zephyr and Phoenix.
Overall, they’re trustworthy and efficient club members.
“What is alarming is that the city police did not find this information during their investigation and that they’re not making any moves to stop the atrocities. ”
“Ha.” Techno scoffs. “Most city cops don’t care about omegas.
They care about keeping alphas in line and whatever the people paying them off want them to care about.
We have an understanding with the county sheriff’s office about getting the omegas back home, but even they don’t really care, not like we do. ”
“It’s why Rev won’t sell an omega to a pack that has a cop in it.” Mayhem explains further. “You didn’t know that?”
“Seems not.” I sigh and release my shadow from where it has been tightly wound beneath me. It slithers out, stretching in long serpentine movements around the van.
When the law cannot be trusted, the morals of the people must be stronger. The problem is that the people are not all that concerned. It’s us, the alleged outlaws, left to help omegas find their way from the vile and repulsive situations back to the safety of those who will love and cherish them.
On nights like tonight, we raid, pillage, and rescue.
“Everyone knows their jobs.” Revenant’s voice comes through the speaker of the van. He’s in another vehicle, down the road, ready to spring into action.
Techno adjusts the volume down a little lower from where it disrupts the night.
Then Revenant provides the command. “Mayhem and Lazarus, lead the way.”
Mayhem and I are dressed similarly, black dress jackets and dark denim jeans. We’ve apparently adopted the look of those who would attend the debauchery ahead of us.
The moving sex club is called Benevolent, a misnomer, and we’ve been tracking it for months.
The twins’ information from the run brought us the final piece to a puzzle we’d been missing.
The sex club’s location. We paid for this information with Zephyr’s entrapment, and tonight we should be more than able to make his suffering worth it.
My serpent changes into its canine form, standing alongside Mayhem’s hound-shaped shadow. I’ve found people are less fearful of my tall Great Dane than the serpent. Mayhem and I head down the block toward the alleyway the alpha had been occupying.
The sleepy downtown area of the small town was not on the list of places we’d suspected where omegas would be captured and sold.
But over the last few days, we’ve watched carefully as evidence of a large group being brought in has been disguised as part of regular shipments to the legitimate businesses.
“Hey,” Mayhem calls to the alpha by the door, “this the spot?”
“Depends, what are you looking for?” The alpha throws the cigarette on the ground near my feet. “Trouble? ’Cause you found it.” The alpha laughs as he swaggers forward. His shadow disappears into the darkness.
I let mine free to hunt and find it. Strike before he can.
“Not lookin’ for trouble.” Mayhem puts his hands in his pockets, fishing out a fistful of paper currency. “But we were invited to the taco bar.”
It doesn’t make sense to me why they’d choose a taco bar as a cover for what is happening behind these doors, but I was told by Phoenix that he’d explain it later, and that leads me to believe it’s lewd.
“And your friend?” The alpha looks to me.
I reach slowly into my back pocket before producing a similar bundle of money.
The alpha steps back to the door. He taps on it twice, then, like a mule, kicks at it backward with his boot.
After a second, the door pushes open, and a large alpha, as tall as Mayhem but significantly more round, pushes through the entrance. His voice is much higher pitched than I’d expect when he informs us, “Entry is four grand each.”
That’s all he gets to say.
Mayhem’s shadow launches at the alpha, taking him by the neck.
My shadow changes shapes again. Stronger as a serpent, it grapples with the first alpha’s shadow while I fight his physical form with ease.
I shove hard, putting him up against the wall, before pressing my arm against his neck.
Footsteps come at a run down the alleyway.
I recognize the sounds as Revenant’s and Phoenix’s enough that I don’t have to look.
Not until the alpha I’m strangling slumps as his soul leaves his body. The steadfast belief of my upbringing that all lives are sacred has fallen to the wayside. Perhaps it is not my place to decide who lives and dies, but that will have to be a conversation between God and me on Judgment Day.
My shadow changes tasks, effectively changing forms and moving to aid Mayhem in ripping the second alpha to shreds. It takes practically no effort while our shadows protect us from any physical harm or blood loss.
When those two alphas are pulled away from the door and disposed of behind a dumpster, the four of us make our way inside.
It’s empty but smells of cigarette smoke and other substances.
A staircase down to a lower level leads us to a seemingly empty room, but loud music thumps through the bricks of the south wall.
A rack of cleaning chemicals has half-circle gouges in the concrete in front of it, and we’re able to easily pull the rack away from the wall, revealing passage to another room.
My eyes adjust quickly to the darker room.
It’s nearly pitch black, perfect for an alpha’s comfort, with the exception of red lights creating an eerie glow.
Music with a heavy bass and downbeat pulses through the room, but it doesn’t cover up the sounds of distressed omegas, not entirely.
And definitely not the smell of their fear.
The occupants of the room are too involved in various stages of debauchery to make note of our entry.
Alphas in disheveled states, pants and shirts undone, some with their cocks in hand, are sitting around tables with nude beta females dancing on poles.
A few of these stations are littered around the room in impromptu seating areas.
I brush my gaze past them quickly, not lingering on their nudity, keeping it sacred for them.
For me. A door on the far side stands partially ajar, and I catch a glimpse of what seems like a hallway of more doors.
A pained screech cuts through the noise, and my heart aches with it. We’re coming. Hold on. We look to Revenant for orders. Bringing his hand up, thumb pointed at himself, he runs it across his throat.
Tonight has gone from a raiding party to a murder party. Only the omegas and female betas will be spared and granted safe passage to better things.
God won’t be able to help the souls that hurt them.