“Gavin!” I hear her blood curdling scream before I can stop her. There’s a slam of the car door and the rush of feet towards me. I struggle to stand back up, but the pain is too much and Vanessa is too quick for me. And by the sound of laughter just in the distance, I know that it’s already too late. Martin has spotted her.
“You stupid girl! Dad always said you had nothing up there. Those assholes at your school may think you’re the shit -- some kind of goodie-two-shoe genius. But I always knew that you would end up dead. I just didn’t think I’d have the pleasure of doing it!”
She stops cold in her step, just feet from where I am lying. I try to lift my head towards her, but she can’t see me. She’s staring straight at the barrel of his gun as it points at her head. “No…” She cries out dryly. “Please don’t do this.”
“Don’t worry, sis. I’m going to make you wait. First, I’m going to finish off this bastard first. And I’m going to do it slow, a bullet for each body party until he’s bled out in front of you. And once he’s good and gone, I’ll make sure you go next.” He walks towards me slowly, and though my eyes are shut tight, my head turned to the side, I know that he is studying me like a butcher about to do his job. “Maybe I’ll start with his arms first…”
He takes another step towards me as he leans over my body. This is my one and only shot. Though the pain shoots through the bullet wound in my side, I manage to whip my arm around, grabbing him by his foot. His body slams around and then towards the ground. Somewhere in the chaos, the gun goes off and I wait for the pain to hit me again.
I hear the clatter of the gun going off before I hear his body hit. The black and silver handgun flies just to my other side. Martin’s chunky but agile body crawls over me for it, his weight pressing down on my entry wound. I cry out in pain, bringing a stoney Vanessa back to life. She sprints over towards me and grabs the gun from the ground just as Martin’s clawing hands manage to reach the handle.
He continues to roll over on me, pressing me into the dirt as he leaps towards his sister. I grab at him, feeling my way through the inside of his button down shirt, the pockets of his pants, and the holster around his ankle until he’s completely off of me. I manage to roll over to see him crawling towards his sister as she takes steps backwards towards the car.
His breath races as he hunches over. His entire body seems to cave in and puff out as if he is attempting to make himself the giant she imagines him to be. Martin licks his lips before saying, “What do you think you’re going to do with that gun, Vanessa? Shoot me? You don’t have it in you. You don’t even know how to fire that thing.”
Vanessa places the gun up to eye height and points it straight at his head. “Back off, Martin. Back off. I will do it. I will kill you. You don’t threaten my family and get away with it.”
“‘Your family?’ You really think that his asshole is your family? Come on Vanessa, we both know there’s only one reason a guy like him would touch a girl like you -- he wanted this all along. You can’t change who you are. You’re a Barber just like me. Just like dad.”
“No. That’s not true.” I watch helplessly from the ground, crawling towards where Martin is slowly charging towards her. Vanessa attempts to release the safety, but the mechanism won’t budge. It just clicks and clicks while the trigger jams.
“It is true. You’ll never be more than that Barber girl who betrayed her family and got knocked up like a common little slut. But if you hand me that gun, I could work out a deal. I could spare your life considering you’re carrying that little bastard niece or nephew of mine. Hell, I may even let you get a head start out of the state.”
She looks back towards me as I wither in pain two feet from Martin’s feet. “What about Gavin?”
“What about him? You think he can keep you safe? I shot him in the stomach. He’s already a dead man. All you need to worry about right now is saving your own skin, and I’m giving you an out.” He reaches out his hand, palm facing up as he commands her, “Hand over the gun. Do it, Vanessa. Give it to me.”
Vanessa pauses, the gun lowering to her side. The silence of the desert takes us all over as we wait for something, anything to happen. It’s Martin who breaks through. When Vanessa doesn’t move quick enough for him, he runs at her, both hands out in front of his chest. She screams as she tries to flee.
But what Martin doesn’t see is how far I have managed to crawl through the dirt. If he would have looked behind me, he would have seen the bloody trail, the marks of my body as it went through dust and earth by the strength of my own hands. Instead, he feels my force first as I again pull him down to the ground by his hips. He falls under me, his hands raised in shock.
His hazel colored eyes light up as the taillight of his motorcycle catches the razor edge of the knife I took from his own back pocket. He opens his mouth just wide enough to get words out, but I don’t give him a chance this time to talk. I don’t give him the pleasure of last words. I dive his own knife straight into his side, the same place where his bullet hit me, and drag it along the side of his ribs until it sticks in the inside of his hips. From the pool of blood that immediately forms, I know I have hit the artery. I give the knife one last, dramatic twist before pulling it up and out.
Martin falls backwards, his hands still raised by his head. His body shakes slightly as it rolls to the side. I stand up from under him, giving him the space he needs to die. When I rise, I turn towards Vanessa who is cowered at the door of the car as she stares at her blood soaked brother and boyfriend.
“Gavin,” She finally cries, still unmoving. “What have we done?”
I try to take a step towards her, but I fall to the side, hitting my knees. The wound in my side is still spitting out blood as I examine it through the large circle in my shirt. Vanessa rushes to my side, taking my hands in hers. She studies my hands first, and I wonder whose blood she is actually looking over. Tears stream down from her porcelain face, mixing with the dirt and grime that cover my arms and chest.
“Vanessa, I’m going to be okay. We’re going to be okay. We did what we had to do. But we need to go. We need to get out of here.” She nods as she places my arm around her neck. While I know she can’t manage to carry me, I still let her try. The weight of me falls and tumbles over her as I try my best to control the limbs I can’t feel over the pulsating pain.
She manages to get me about twenty feet, my legs dragging as she does her best to push, pull, and carry me back towards the car. Finally, she sets me down into her lap as she looks down at me helplessly. From behind, her brown hair becomes a halo. A dozen beams of light point straight at us as the night lights up with the flashing headlights. Almost in unison, they signal three times fast -- the Senators have arrived.
“Gavin? Is that you?” A familiar voice calls out from behind the lights as the hum of the swarm of motorcycles quiets down one by one. “What the hell is going on out there?”
I raise my hand as high as it can go as Vanessa stands cautiously. She has to realize that her being exposed to a rival gang had to be more dangerous for her than it was for me. She most likely was taught at a young age how much her life was worth to people like the Senators and their leaders. But she had no fear today. With her head held high, she marched herself over to the pack and lifted her shaking arm out to introduce herself.
Her words were muffled as I attempted to listen in on her retell the story. She points towards the body of her brother unmoving, stiff, and then back to me where I lay with my arms wrapped around my waist, holding my insides in place. Gaylord runs in a sprint towards me where he kneels beside me. Without even asking, he pulls back my shirt and examines the wound, purple and black, the skin peeling away around the entrance of the bullet.
With somber eyes, he reaches above his head and tears off his own shirt before wrapping it around my waist. The tie pushes into my raw, burning skin as I cry out in pain. “You wanna go see our doctor? Blade can drive the car.”
“No, no. We have to go back and get Vanessa’s mom. We don’t have time for that.”
“Kid, you don’t have time for anything but to die with a wound like that.” He looks back down at the tied off wound and then to Vanessa as if to give her the grave news that I wouldn’t be around much longer.
“Gaylord, just get me in that car. Put me in the backseat so I can rest. And then we’ll figure out the rest. Can you deal with the body situation?” I use my chin to point towards Martin. Body disposal is every club’s speciality, and this one wouldn’t take too long given how the King riders were staring at it with smiles that stretches wide across their shadowy faces. “We left a couple more back off of Mystic Road. I’m thinking those belong to you.”
“Those fucking traitors? Don’t worry about them. We’ve got a burn pile ready with their names on it. But if I do this for you -- take the Barber kid back, I want credit. It’ll help me explain to the rest of the boys what Barber was doing with the off-grid Senators and the VP.”
I glance over to Vanessa whose head is hung low. Her hands rest softly in her lap as she continues to kneel at my feet. Part of me is wondering if she’s praying by the way she occasionally lifts her eyes towards the sky. I wonder if she’s praying for me or if she is daring to give an apology for what has happened to her flesh and blood.
“You can take it. I’ve got enough on them to last me a lifetime. Most of the Pagans are already against the Barber’s anyways. The rest of them can find their way out if they’re that upset over that sick asshole.”
“It’s a deal then, Wren.” He whistles towards the motorcycles and the man I met previously, Blade, steps forward. Gaylord moves around to my feet as Blade grabs me from under my arms. My broken body lifts off of the ground as they quickly move me back to the car. Vanessa opens the backseat door and the two slide me and help place my feet on the ground so they dangle slightly.
Vanessa pauses outside the door as if she tries to think of something, anything to say to the two men she thought would always be her family’s enemy. “Thank you,” She says coldly, “Thank you for helping us out.” Gaylord touches her shoulder lightly before heading back to the bikers. Vanessa slips into the front, adjust the mirrors and the seat. The car starts, and she heads off, directionless.
After a few minutes of driving, she finally comes to. Over the sound of some country singer belting out a song my mama would have sang when she was drunk and loaded, I hear Vanessa ask, “Where to now, Gavin?”
“The Barber house. We’ve got some unfinished business.” I reply as I rest my head on the backseat of the car. And as she presses her hands to the steering wheel to turn around back to the direction of her hometown, I keep my eyes planted on the growing red stain. With every breath I take, every street light we pass, every long sigh that comes from Vanessa’s mouth, I wish to the stars they won’t be the last.