Dante

 

We ride down I-10, a convoy of bikes kicking up dust as we weave between the traffic. I never feel so focused as I do on the hunt. Lion rides beside me and Timmy on the other side. We’re going to war and I feel ready. I see Selena in front of me in the road, beckoning to me, naked, with her hair pooling around her. She’s waving at me with her fingers, pursing her lips, and then the image shifts and she’s fully-clothed and holding a baby in her arms. Strange, because I never wanted a baby. That was Markus’s thing, always going on about making a family and starting a life.

 

I remember sitting in the bar with him one winter night when it was pitch-dark outside. He was sipping whisky and droplets clung to his beer. “I’d love to have a kid, and a wife, and a house, and—and all of that.” He smiled, and then shrugged. “Does that sound stupid?”

 

“Yes, it does,” I said, grinning at him. “It’s about the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. What’d’you want a kid for? You going to teach him how to handle a pistol?”

 

“Maybe, or how to ride a bike.”

 

“Motorized or human-powered?”

 

“Either. What does that matter?”

 

“Just had an image of you putting a toddler on a Harley is all.”

 

We both laughed, and then Markus grew serious. “But really. Don’t you ever think about a normal life?”

 

“And what does a normal life look like for men like us?” I asked.

 

“Well …” He paused, considering. After a sip of whisky he said, “I reckon a normal life for us looks exactly the same as it does for everybody else. At least I don’t see why it shouldn’t. We’re men, aren’t we? Just like everybody else.”

 

“Dad never wanted a normal life,” I say.

 

“You were four when Dad died,” Markus replied. “How the fuck d’you know what he wanted?”

 

I bristled, and then nodded. “Fair enough. But from what you told me, he never wanted a normal life.”

 

“He was an outlaw like us, it’s true. But whoever said that sons have to live as shadows of their fathers?”

 

“I think the Bible has some words on that.”

 

“So you’re religious now?” Markus shook his head, pouring another glass of whisky. “I’m not talking about what Dad wanted. I’m talking about what I want. I want a girl who isn’t just a bit of fun for a night. I want a son or a daughter I can protect and care for. I want a house I can call my own and a car and maybe even a normal job.”

 

“You’re president of the Motor Saints. You’d really give that up?”

 

“You’re not hearing me,” he said. He leaned across the table. Suddenly he looked as serious as cancer; his smile vanished. “This life isn’t the end of the world, Dante. It isn’t our fate. We don’t have to walk down this road for the rest of our lives just because we started down it when we were kids. There’s a whole world out there. There’s more to this life than running and gunning and whoring.”

 

“Maybe,” I said. “But I don’t want to see it. No offense, big brother, but if you want to go skipping into the sunset to the land of daises and dreams then don’t let me stop you, but don’t expect me to come along for the ride. I’m happy with our lot. I happen to enjoy running and gunning and whoring.”

 

“Well, I’m the older one so I know best.”

 

“Fuck you, old man.” I punched him in the arm. “I’ll break your dentures over your balding head.”

 

Markus self-consciously touched his hair. “Dammit, that better not be true.”

 

I’m jolted from the memory as Lion pulls up beside me. He gestures at me to pull up to the side of the road. I follow him, reflecting. I haven’t thought about that conversation with Markus in ages. When I think of my big brother he’s always the wild man shooting and drinking. It’s all too easy to forget that he was going to leave the life and get married and betray me: betray me, because that’s how it felt at the time, the brother I’d always relied upon telling me to go fuck myself. I could let my mind drift to other memories, memories where I roar at him and call him wicked names. But I don’t let myself. I need to stay focused.

 

Lion pulls off his helmet. “It’s just down there.” He points off into the dusty cacti-filled land. “About three miles. A straight shot, according to Slug.”

 

“All right, then.”

 

“Boss.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Am I okay?” I laugh gruffly. “We’re working. Since when does okay and not okay come into it?”

 

“I’m just making sure.” Lion watches me too closely. It’s like he’s trying to hear words I ain’t saying. “This girl must mean a helluva lot to you. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

 

“You keep talking like you’re gonna sprout a pussy.” I rev my bike and ride toward the nearest cactus. “Get your head in the game.”

 

Our convoy turns off I-10, kicking up yellow dust now instead of grey.

 

I’m getting angry now, ready to go to war. Sometimes I get this feeling like I want to kill everybody around me, like I want to fly into a rage so blinding that when I wake up my face will be coated in blood and I’ll wander for days through a field of corpses. Sometimes I get so damn angry that I wish I could just go to war someplace and die riddled with bullets. But usually I can hold back that anger with my better instinct. Markus showed me how a man can channel his anger instead of letting it use him. But now, as I picture Selena alone and scared, the rage is impossible to contain. I’m going to kill every single Chosen Wraith. All of them—dead. And if there are any survivors, I’ll hunt them down and kill them too.

 

But when the warehouse rises out of the mist on the horizon, the killer instinct inside me dies. We’ve been tricked. I curse myself. We’ve been fucking tricked! I pull to a stop and hold up my arm, causing the entire convoy to stop behind me. We’re atop a small hill looking down at the warehouse. Cops surround it, setting up tape and walking around on their phones or walkie talkies. I feel a pulsing in my head. Rage is bad enough, but there’s nothing worse than impotent rage. I climb from my bike and pace up and down, glancing at the warehouse every so often.

 

“Boss,” Lion says.

 

“You’ve got a girl, haven’t you, my friend?” I ask. I know I sound half-mad, but I can’t stop.

 

“I’m married, boss. You were my best man.”

 

“I remember. Of course I remember! If Brose was playing with your wife like he’s playing with my girl, what would you do?”

 

“Kill him,” Lion says. “And we’re going to kill him.”

 

“But he’s not in there.” I point to the warehouse. Cops everywhere, but no bikers in cuffs, nobody speaking on a megaphone telling them to come out, no gunfire. Nothing.

 

“No,” Lion agrees.

 

“Then what now?” I ask.

 

“We have to find where they really are.”

 

“They could be anywhere!” I snap. “Brose has played me for a fuckin’ fool. Do you know he made me call him sir? I said he put me on loudspeaker. That was when. Made me call him sir right in front of all his boys. Disrespected me.”

 

“Brose is a fucking monster. You’ll get no arguments from me.”

 

“All right. Let’s back up some so these cops don’t see us.”

 

“Boss.”

 

Lion leads the men away from the hill back the way we came. I’m about to follow when my cell rings. It’s Selena.

 

“Brose,” I say, answering.

 

“There’s no point trying to hide now,” he says, tittering. “They’ve seen you.”

 

“But they’re not chasing us.”

 

“I haven’t ordered them to chase you. Would you like me to?”

 

“You’re a coward hiding behind the cops. It’s fuckin’ pathetic.”

 

“Oh, yes, bravery. As I recall, your sweet big brother cared greatly about being brave, didn’t he? Do you remember how brave he was, the big strong man Markus? Do you remember how much everybody respected him? Nothing could hurt Markus. He was untouchable. Strange, isn’t it, how one so brave can be felled by one so cowardly?”

 

“Just tell me where she is,” I say, hands shaking, lips trembling, everything aching with the urge to fight. “Just tell me where the fuck she is!”

 

“You were supposed to come with all your cash and guns. Not tooled up and ready for war. What sort of businessman are you? I believe we had a deal. I’m sorely tempted to take out my frustration on your little angel. Maybe I’ll show her how a real man makes love.”

 

“If you touch her …”

 

“I know, I know.” He sighs. “You’re so predictable sometimes, Dante. I expect more from you. I really do.”

 

“Just tell me where the fuck she is!” I roar.

 

“You’re a passionate man,” Brose says. “I can appreciate that. But I must warn you that passion may lead you to ruin if you’re not careful. Do you remember Kirk? I’m sure you do. He was my man and got a little too passionate one night, spoke out of line, you understand. You know what happened to him.”

 

I know: he cut him into pieces and fed him to wild dogs.

 

“How do I get her back?” I say, feeling defeated. And yet … it’s crazy, but a plan is formulating.

 

“That’s more like it,” Brose says. “That’s what I like to hear! I want you to bring five-hundred thousand dollars and two duffle bags—no, make that five—five duffle bags of guns and ammo to the location I’ll text to your phone. You’ll laugh when you see it. It’s almost identical to the warehouse you’re looking at now, except ten miles in the opposite direction.”

 

“I need to speak to Selena,” I say. “Or we’re not doing this.”

 

“You and this girl … Do you really think I’ve only been watching your apartment since last night? I’ve had men posted on it for weeks, and not once have they seen you with a lady friend. And now—poof—you’ve fallen head over boots for this lady. Anybody would think you were going soft.”

 

“Just let me speak to her,” I say. “I’m not agreeing to shit without that.”

 

He sighs, and then says, “Fine, wait.”

 

A couple of minutes pass and then Selena is breathing heavily down the phone. “Dante?” Her voice is tight and full of fear. But there’s strength in there, too.

 

“I’m sorry,” I say right away. “This is all my fault.”

 

“No,” she says.

 

“I’m guessing they’re right there watching you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Am I on loudspeaker?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“All right, just know that I’m working on getting you out of there.”

 

“Please hurry,” she says, voice breaking a little.

 

A couple more minutes pass and then Brose is back on the line. “That was really touching,” he says. “It warmed the cockles of my heart, I have to say. Who knew you were capable of such love?”

 

“Cut the shit. I’ll bring the money and the weapons. Just text me the directions and I’ll bring them, all right? But it might take a few hours to get it all sorted. I need to go back to Sun Town and collect everything.”

 

“You can have until midnight,” Brose says. It’s two o’clock now. “But don’t keep me waiting, Dante. I really don’t like waiting. Waiting makes me bored, and when I get bored I have to find something to entertain myself with. Do you understand?”

 

Bastard, fucking bastard, talking to me like I’m your dog.

 

“I said do you understand?”

 

I swallow spit and pride in equal measure. “I understand. It won’t take longer than a day.”

 

“Oh, and Dante?”

 

“What?”

 

“Aren’t you curious about how I knew to arrange it so that this particular warehouse was crawling with cops upon your arrival? I’m sure you must be.”

 

I close my eyes, seeing red. “I think I know,” I whisper. “What I don’t know is why you’d tell me.”

 

“Why not?” Brose laughs harshly. “He means nothing to me and he’s served his purpose. I have no use for a rat for sale. See you soon. Don’t take too long.”

 

I hang up the phone and then stare down at it, waiting for the text. When it comes through, I forward it to my officers to make sure we don’t lose it, and then climb on my bike and ride back through the desert. I stop when Lion approaches me.

 

“Boss,” he says.

 

“We’re heading back to the city,” I tell him. “To the clubhouse. And Lion.”

 

He leans forward. “Yeah?”

 

“Keep a real close eye on Slug.”

 

Lion’s eyes go hard. “Boss.”

 

So we ride back the way we came, heading toward Sun Town. I feel a heavy sense of anticlimax as we get closer to the clubhouse. Now Selena has to spend more time being leered at by these pricks. Now she has to spend more time wondering if I’m going to save her.

 

“Sometimes a man finds someone he really cares about,” Markus told me one day. “It hasn’t happened to me yet, but it happened to a friend of mine. He said it was like being struck by lightning, came out of nowhere and changed everything.”

 

“I know what you meant,” I whisper under the sound of my growling engine.