1. Deacon
DEACON
Burnt rubber filled my nostrils as the sound of my tires squealing against the fucking pavement echoed throughout the desert.
With my empty pistol in one hand and my other locked squarely on the bars of my motorcycle, I quickly holstered the weapon as I zigzagged down the road.
Dallas and Gauge soared toward the mechanic shop, empty of the knowledge I just gathered.
I kicked it into gear and sped to the front of the charge.
I slammed on the brakes and whipped around.
“The fuck!?” Dallas exclaimed as he came to a grinding halt.
Gauge didn’t say anything. He just stared me down as his bike screamed with the hard stop. His body lurched. The air filled with smoke that damn near singed my goddamn nostril hairs.
We had to be smart about this. “Dallas, call Sheriff Nielson. Tell him that this is Metal Reaper territory, and no one steps inside that motherfucking shop until I give the go ahead.”
“On it,” Dallas said as he whipped his new burner phone out of his pocket.
“And destroy that thing when you’re done,” I said as I turned to Gauge. “You and I are gonna scale around the shop while Dallas is on the phone. We aren’t going in, but we are going to see if anyone is straggling around outside.”
He nodded. “What if we find someone?”
My face hardened. “Plug ’em.”
Gauge smiled. He never smiled, but when there was bloodshed to be had, he always showed those pearly whites of his.
“Let’s get going, then,” he said before he revved his engine.
“Nielson, it’s Dallas.”
I bellowed over his phone call. “Tell the sheriff that whatever van took Rat has bulletproof glass for windows and tires that won’t go flat.”
Dallas’s eyes widened. “Are you fucking kidding me? Wai—yeah, did you hear that though, Sheriff?”
Gauge leaned toward me. “Are you certain?”
I pulled out my pistol and showed him the empty chamber. “I unloaded two into their tires and the rest into that back windshield. That van should’ve swerved off the road, but it didn’t. You got any other explanations.”
Gauge’s eyes widened. “We have to be quick. Rat’s in a fuckton of trouble.”
“My thoughts exactly. Dallas!”
I watched him fumble with his cell before he hung up. “Sheriff’s on the way with some men. He’s holding them back until he hears from us.”
I got my bike turned around. “Good. Stick close. Whoever we’re dealing with, this isn’t their first rodeo. Let’s ride!”
They knew we were coming. If they couldn’t hear our fucking shouting, then they certainly heard our bikes and our guns.
But it wasn’t as if they stayed quiet. Clearly they expected us to retaliate.
In some ways, I couldn’t help but feel as if we fed right into a trap laid for us.
Right into a fucking set-up that would turn our entire world upside down.
We never left a man behind, though.
We approached the mechanic shop on the side of the road and slipped our motorcycles right into our parking spaces.
I pulled the other gun on my hip as I swung my leg over my bike.
Dust and grit slithered between my teeth as Dallas stood to my right.
I peeked toward my left and saw Gauge’s shadow as he hovered behind me, and I held my breath.
“Stay alert,” I muttered as I took a step toward the shop, “we’ve got two of our men to dig out of this mess.”
“I’ll take right,” Dallas whispered as he moved toward the building.
“I’ll take left,” I said as I moved in the opposing direction.
“Guess that means I’ve got the front,” Gauge murmured as he started for the main door.
It was as if time itself stood still. Not a sound was heard, not even sirens, above the distant roar of engines that kicked up.
Now more than ever, I was pissed that our clubhouse was so fucking far away.
A tactical advantage, sure, but definitely not convenient.
And yet, that was probably what kept us safe this entire time.
Whoever was behind this attacked our businesses because they didn’t know where our clubhouse was.
Hopefully.
“Stay focused,” I hissed to no one in particular.
Skirting around the frame of the building sent my heart into my throat. I sniffed the air, and yet there was nothing. No smell of gunpowder. No smell of gunshot residue. No twinge of blood in the air.
Had those motherfuckers taken down two of my armed men without weapons?
No fucking way.
“Deac,” Dallas whispered.
He rounded his corner of the building and nodded toward the back door.
“Ready when you are,” he said softly.
Thank fuck I had enough of a head about me to withdraw the last gun on my ankle. With a gun in each hand, I cracked my neck as my shoulders rolled. I took a chance to draw in a deep breath, hoping that my heart might climb out of my fucking throat.
This felt way too much like the shit that forced Dad to talk with Sheriff Nielson in the first place.
I shook the thought from my head. “On my count.”
Dallas nodded, and that started my countdown.
“Three,” I said as I cocked my guns.
“Two,” Dallas said as he rounded around and stood about fifteen feet away from the back door.
“One,” I growled.
The door crashed open with a thunderous boom.
“Get down! Get down! Now!” Gauge bellowed.
He barely got the asshat he found tackled to the ground before gunfire poured from the doorway.
Dallas dropped to the ground and aimed his gun up, plugging two bullets into a man that still didn’t show his face from my direction.
I saw his knees first. They hit the ground with a splashy red thud before Dallas leapt up from his perched position and tore through the door.
“You good?” I asked as I looked down at Gauge.
He slammed his fist into the man’s face and knocked him out cold. “Never better. Let’s go.”
“Rat!?” I exclaimed as I walked inside with both of my guns trained in front of me. “Rat! If you hear me, say something!”
“What would you like him to say?”
A voice behind me sent me into a frenzy, and I whipped my elbow back.
Bones gave way beneath the treacherous swing, and I lifted my arm enough to lock his head in the crook of it.
I bent him forward, pressing one of my guns into his chest while he gasped for air against my fucking bicep.
And as his face turned red, I placed my lips to the shell of his ear.
“I don’t know who you are, and I don’t know where you come from,” I glowered. “I don’t know who’s commanding you, nor do I know what you want. But so long as there is breath in my lungs, I will never stop. You’ve touched my men, and that means I will never. Ever. Stop.”
I pulled the trigger and sent that motherfucker with a same day shipping ticket to the Lord.
“Rat!” I exclaimed. “Say something, my guy!”
I watched life flee from that man’s eyes.
Those shocked brown eyes staring back at me.
He almost looked surprised at the fact that I got the jump on him.
Joke’s on him, I suppose. I memorized that man’s face.
His features. The scar running along the left side of his jaw.
I expected him to say something. Some last words.
Someone to contact on his behalf. Anything.
But he simply released the bloody breath from his lungs and stained his lips red with his last breath.
“Say hi to Dad for me, motherfucker,” I spat as I stepped over his dead body.
The sound of racing engines sped closer to the shop as doors slammed into walls.
My men cleared corners like professionals.
Dad trained us well, that much was for certain.
He trained us so nothing like this ever happened again.
So that we never got caught unaware. So that we never lost another man in the field.
So that we never had to bury another brother. And now, two of them were missing.
Because there was no sign of Baitfish, either.
“Rat!” Gauge called out.
“Baitfish! You here!?” Dallas exclaimed.
It grew hard to breathe as I continued clearing every pantry, closet, and cranny we had in that fucking shop.
Every light switch I came across got flipped and every lamp we stashed in dark corners had their lights turned on.
The more we illuminated the shop, the more confident I grew that there was no one else there.
So where in the fucking hell were my men?
“Rat!?” I roared. “If you can’t make a sound, pick up something and throw it! Or slam something against a wall! Close a door! Anything!”
“Baitfiiiiiish!” Dallas screamed.
“Everyone shut up!” Gauge barked.
And the second we fell silent, the smallest tink sounded in the distance.
“Did you hear that?” I asked.
Tink, tink.
“Where is that coming from?” Dallas asked.
Tink, tink.
“Follow it,” Gauge said as he hunched his shoulders.
Tink, tink.
“Keep making that sound! We’re coming!” I exclaimed as I holstered my weapons.
Tink, tink.
Desperation. The only other time I ever felt that fucking feeling was when my father was killed.
Desperation to find my men flooded my adrenal glands, sending me into fucking overdrive.
I shoved machinery out of the way and ripped air vents out of the walls to check the ductwork.
Gauge checked the cars we had in our shop, making sure to pop the trunks in the process.
I even heard Dallas say something about checking with our security system. I didn’t care, though.
All I cared about was following that small, barely-there sound.
Tink, tink.
Tink, tink.
Tink, tink.
It grew louder as I slipped into the side hallway.
I made my way to the employee’s lounge where most of the guys took their breaks and acted like they didn’t drink beer by the gallon while on the job.
My nose curled at the smell of ballsack and dirty feet the closer I crept to the lounge.
And the closer I crept, the louder that sound got.
Tink, tink.
Tink, tink.
Tink, tink.
Until I rounded the corner and found… nothing.
Tink, tink.
Tink, tink.
Tink, tink.
“Rat?” I asked as I walked into the middle of the room.
Tink, tink.
Tink, tink.
Tink, tink.
The sound was so loud. Much louder than it was. But there were no fucking closets in the employee’s lounge. No locker rooms. Not even a table with a tablecloth to stash him under.
So where the fuck was he?
“Rat!” I exclaimed.
Tink, tink.
Tink, tink.
Tink, tink.
I turned around. It felt like the sound was behind me, but I couldn’t figure out why.
“Deac!” Dallas called out. “I’ve got something you’re gonna wanna see on this footage!”
“Not now!” I barked.
“You really want to see this!” Gauge yelled.
“Just give me a fucking second!”
I was missing something. Something big. Something obvious.
Something right in my fucking face. And as I stood there, staring at the door I just came through, I looked down at the ground.
To this day, I’ve got no clue why I stood there.
Why I chose to look down. Maybe it was out of that same desperation that drove the beads of sweat down the nape of my neck, but that’s when I saw it.
The door had an extra shadow.
“Jesus fuck,” I said breathlessly as I lunged for the door.
I slammed it closed and right there, hanging from the metal hook we had installed on the inside of all our doors back last year for more random storage…
was Rat. Hanging there by a rope around his throat and his toes dancing on the floor as if he were some sort of fucking ballerina.
Beaten to all hell. Tied up with electrical tape.
I couldn’t get my arms wrapped around that fucker’s waist quickly enough. “Guuuuuuuuys! I have Rat! Get in here!”
Footfalls scurried close to me as I lifted Rat up from the hook. The sounds he made from behind the electrical tape strewn all over his face was one I’d never forget. His eyes were filled with fear. His body, caked in blood from a source I couldn’t identify.
“Here, let me take him.”
“Let’s get him laid down.”
“Rat, can you hear me?”
“We’re going to take some of this off now, all right?”
“Just hold still. Just lay there. You’re fine.”
I didn’t need to ask where Baitfish was, however. Because the second they peeled that tape from his lips, he kept murmuring one singular phrase over and over again.
“They’re professionals. They’ve got Baitfish. They’re professionals. They’ve got Baitfish.”
It was my worst nightmare come true.
“Stay with him,” I commanded.
A clattering sound out in the hallway shot Dallas and Gauge to their feet.
“They’re professionals. They’ve got Baitfish. They’re professionals. They’ve got Baitfish,” Rat kept whispering.
“You two, stay with him,” I said as I pulled my gun off my hip and poised it out in front of me.
“We’re not letting you go alone,” Dallas said.
“You’re not leaving Rat alone,” I spat as I whipped toward him, “now shut up and do as you’re told. Gauge?”
“Yeah?”
Sirens kicked up outside, and they were close. “Go find Sheriff Nielson. Fill him in. Don’t let him send anyone in here until?—”
Before I got the command out, however, another small clatter was heard out in the garage.
TINK, TINK-A-LINK.
I lowered my voice as I slipped out of the room. “Once you find the sheriff and fill him in, someone get our doctor on the phone. Him and Baitfish are gonna need one.”
“Loud and clear,” Gauge and Dallas said in unison.
My heartbeat thundered in my ears as all of my senses went on high alert.
Pictures became sharper and movements became smoother as I hunched and muted my footsteps.
I drew in deep breaths through my nose, negating any sound that may have come with my body’s natural movements, and I grinned when I saw a shadow scurry from one side of the garage to the other.
“Gotcha,” I whispered as I stormed into the room.
Bullets flew and lead popped off. The smell of gunpowder and smoke filled the air as I cornered the moving shadow. Lights turned off where they had once been turned on, no doubt trying to conceal his form as he headed straight for the back door. I was smarter, though, and I got there first.
“Oh no you don’t,” I growled as I ripped the door closed and locked it.
I didn’t know who in the fuck got trapped in there with us, but I had to resist every single urge to kill that fucker. Because when I heard him pull that trigger, all that met me was the sound of an empty chamber firing as the barrel of that person’s gun peeked out from the shadows.
Staring me right in the face.
“Now, it’s my turn,” I said with a smile on my face.
I grabbed that man’s fucking wrist and slammed him into the locked metal door behind me.
We had to keep him alive for answers.
But that didn’t mean I couldn’t teach him a fucking lesson.