Zephyr Chapter 15
Now that the time had come, I was unsure where I should start.
What I had to tell her was so convoluted and fantastical that I knew if I were in her shoes, I wouldn’t believe it.
However, as crazy as it was about to sound, it would be the truth.
And if, by some miracle, Everlyn chose to stay with me, I didn’t want to risk her leaving me later because of what my club did to make its money: all of it.
Or that we protected those we cared for and those unable to protect themselves to the full degree of our abilities.
The truth was, Grave Prowlers weren’t angels.
We weren’t without dirt and blood on our hands.
But we were far from the monsters that Everlyn and those like her should fear.
Aksel and those of his ilk were the ones to fear, and never turn your back on.
Aksel was the Níeingr, the villain, who dragged us all into committing the dishonorable act of slaughtering that village.
She would need to be told not just about Aksel, how he shaped this whole thing hundreds of years ago, but also about how he remained an enemy who came back into our lives from time to time.
We were back in the cabin, alone. Before we could talk, I needed to work on the bullet wound.
First, the bullet would have to be removed, then the wound cleaned and dressed.
It should be healed within twenty-four hours.
Yeah, another benefit of the curse was super healing powers, though we still scarred.
In the bedroom, my medical supplies remained scattered on the bed. I scooped up what I needed after I hung my cut on a hook. I was fortunate. Somehow, the bullet missed my cut. Raider and everyone else were gone. I removed my ruined shirt and tossed it into the bathroom trash can.
I needed to see what I was doing. I washed my hands in hot, soapy water, then put on gloves. We were immune to all infections except wound infections. However, they never led to death.
Everlyn stood nearby, watching. I removed the forceps from the case that held surgical instruments.
I sanitized it before bringing it up to the hole.
I’d pressed on the area. I would have to dig, though not as far as it could’ve been.
I wished I’d asked one of the others to come in, in case I needed help, but I refused to make her more nervous.
Right before I inserted the tip, Everlyn spoke, stopping me.
“Wait. What are you doing?”
“I’m about to remove the bullet. It has to come out.”
“You’re going to do it to yourself? What if you pass out? Shouldn’t someone else be doing this for you?”
“I’m the medic. I know what I’m doing. Yeah, in an ideal setting, having backup would be best, but I can do it. If I pass out, wait for me to wake up,” I advised.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, wait a minute,” she snapped.
Then, I watched as she washed her hands, put on the extra pair of gloves I brought into the bathroom, and held out her hand. I slowly placed the forceps’ handles into it.
“Have you ever done something like this?” I asked.
Everlyn shook her head. “No, people I know don’t usually get shot. But I’ve dealt with on-the-job injuries. You shouldn’t do this to yourself. You guide me, and I’ll do it.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Yes, let’s get this done. We have a conversation to have.”
Wanting to get this part over with, I did as she demanded.
“Insert the tip without opening it. Go straight in. When you hit resistance, then open the handles. You’ll have to move it around until you find purchase on the bullet. Once you have it, pull backward. Try to do it steadily and without stopping,” I instructed.
“What if this hurts you more? Maybe going to the hospital is best.” Everlyn hesitated.
“I can’t go. They’ll want to know how it happened. The police will have to be called. We’re not doing that,” I said forcefully.
I saw her swallow hard, then a determined expression took over her face.
I held her hand and guided the forceps into the hole.
I held in my hiss of pain. When I thought she had it, I let go.
She poked and tried four times to grasp the bullet.
She was biting her lip. I was sweating, but holding back my shouts of pain. Finally, I felt the forceps grab hold.
“You’ve got it. Back it out slow and steady,” I encouraged.
It slipped loose about halfway out, but she reclamped and pulled it out. She dropped the bullet and forceps into the sink. I had a wad of gauze ready to stop the new bleeding. The original bleeding had mostly stopped.
“What can I do now?” Everlyn asked anxiously.
“Press this to the wound, then we’ll clean it, and I’ll cover it with a pad,” I told her.
“Shouldn’t it be stitched closed? What about some kind of ointment so you don’t get an infection?” She asked her next round of questions.
“I’ll clean it thoroughly and flush it out after the bleeding is stemmed. We won’t need a topical,” I assured her.
Less than ten minutes after the bullet’s removal, I was irrigated, cleansed, and bandaged. I left the cleanup of the supplies for later. After wiping all the blood off my torso, I knew we had waited long enough.
“Let’s go to the living room so we can be comfortable,” I recommended. I didn’t bother putting on a shirt. It would be a painful task I didn’t need right now.
Everlyn nodded and walked out ahead of me. She sat in a chair in the living room, leaving me no choice but to sit on the couch across from her, but still leaving a few feet of distance between us. Her body was tense, and her arms were crossed over her chest.
“I’m going to tell you a story. It’ll explain things I haven’t told you.
And it’ll sound far-fetched, but I swear, it’s all true.
I need you to allow me to finish before you ask questions or make comments.
However, first I want to explain a few things about the club.
Once I’ve told you both things, then you’ll know everything I haven’t told you. Will you do that for me?”
I waited for her answer. After almost a minute, Everlyn nodded and said, “Yes, I’ll do that. But you will answer everything with absolute truthfulness, no evasions or half-truths. No matter how far-fetched it is, tell me everything.”
I removed the oath-ring, the silver band worn on my right wrist that the entire club had made when we formed our brotherhood after breaking from Aksel. Thankfully, we’d never sworn our fealty to that bastard. Instead, we swore it to each other.
“I swear upon my oath-ring to Tyr, the god of Justice and Honor, as well as the goddess Vár, the keeper of vows and pledges, that I will tell the absolute truth to you. If I should lie, may I be punished by the gods immediately.”
I handed her my ring to hold. She took it. I’d explained what it was to her when we first got together, and she asked about it. It felt right to let her hold it while I related everything to her.
“Let me start by talking about the club. We’re a collective of people who survived a common, horrific past, which is the second thing I’ll explain to you.
We weren’t always an MC, but Raider became part of one in Virginia several years ago.
When the club decided to branch out and form more chapters, he put out the call to us to join him.
Some of us formed the Asgard chapter. The others formed the Uppsala, Alabama chapter, and it has a president named Ragnarok.
That chapter is technically under ours, with Raider serving as both the territory president and the Asgard president.
“The original club in Virginia didn’t make its living by legal means.
They had several illegal businesses. When the other chapters formed, each territory was given leeway to decide how it would make money.
The only thing we had to do was adhere to the original business model across all locations.
It forms a nationwide network, with each territory supporting the overall business.
“The Virginia chapter started with a mortuary business, and it took payoffs for cremating those who paid to keep the club’s mouth shut about disposing of their complications.
As part of that, they built custom coffins, which then led to running guns in the coffins.
It was a great way to ship them anywhere in the country or even outside of it and skip scrutiny. ”
I saw her stiffen when she heard that part. I kept going.
“Norse Passages is both a legitimate funeral home, and Valhalla Caskets make legit caskets like the one we made for Jeremiah. But we also use some of the caskets to ship guns. As for the disposal of bodies for money, that rarely happens. We do so only for a specific customer. And that customer doesn’t just kill people without cause.
They, along with us, remove threats to innocent people.
The real monsters you should worry about in the world.
“You know of the legit businesses we have. I’ve told you about them.
However, other ones aren’t above board. One is that we have a private club that is a front for gambling.
We run a chop shop that gets customers whatever vehicles they want.
We do so by buying parts from whoever has them. We don’t ask if they’re hot or not.
“There is a select group to whom we make and distribute counterfeit money—nothing massive or affecting the value of the American dollar. The last one is identification forgeries. We make them for those who want to disappear. While we don’t ask customers too many questions, we use those IDs and sometimes the counterfeit money to help abuse victims escape and start over.
We’re part of an underground railroad for them.
“I know by telling you this, you could run straight to the cops and Feds. I’m hoping you won’t, regardless of what you decide about you and me. Some illegal activities end up helping those with genuine needs. They’re like those kids we held the toy run for.