Roxie

About Six Years Ago

A shot ringing out wakes me in the middle of the night. A man is screaming, my father is shouting, and I smell gasoline and fire. An orange light is coming in through my bedroom window, and it takes my sleep-muddled brain a few moments to put all that together. Our house is on fire and someone set it. We're under attack.

"Dad!" I scream. "What's happening?"

"Run, Roxie!" he shouts back.

A second shot rings out. It’s followed by a scream of pain from my father.

I should be doing what he told me, climbing out my window and running away. Instead, I fling my bedroom door open and run toward the sound of Dad's scream. He sounded like he was in pain. I must help him.

The hallway outside my room is dark, because it has no windows, so the orangey light outside can't reach it. But the smell of burning is worse here.

"Finish him off," a strange man says. A second later I hear another shot.

"No!" I scream and run faster, my bare feet hitting the wooden planks and making a lot of noise, but I hardly hear it, hardly feel the thuds.

The door of my father's bedroom is open, but I can't see anyone inside. Maybe I'm just dreaming. Maybe this is just a nightmare. But the smell of smoke is burning my nose, and my heart is thumping so hard my whole body is pulsing. I don't think this is a dream.

And when I reach my father's bedroom, I'm certain of it. He's lying on the floor by his bed, in a pool of his own blood, groaning, his eyes full of fear like I’ve never seen there before, as they lock on mine. His room is awash in the orange light of the fire raging somewhere outside.

"Daddy!" I yell and run to him. But a pair of arms locks tight around my waist, not only stopping me, but also hoisting me into the air.

"Why, if it isn't Roxie," the man holding me says in a sleazy, slimy, lewd voice. "You've grown into a beautiful woman since I saw you last. You should be proud, Wolfman," he adds, addressing my father who let out a growl and tries to stand, but can't.

I'm fighting to free myself from the man’s grip, as hard as I can, but he's head and shoulders taller than me and twice as wide.

My father's eyes are still locked on mine, but the light in them is fading. I have to get to him, I have to stop the bleeding, I have to save him.

"I'm sorry, Roxie," he whispers, his eyes fluttering shut.

"No! Daddy!" I scream. "Don't die!"

But his open eyes have no light in them anymore.

"You should've listened to your Daddy and run," the man who's still holding me tight whispers into my ear. "But you wouldn't get far even if you had."

His breath smells of garlic and nastiness.

"Let me go!" I scream. "Who are you?"

"I'm Lizard, President of Hell's Spawn MC," he says. "Your daddy crossed me and now he's dead. And all his men are dead. And you're mine, pretty Roxie. Time to go."

I fight him all the way to the stairs as he carries me from the room, but his grip on me is like iron shackles.

"Settle down, or I'll throw you down the stairs," he hisses. And while I'd prefer to be dead, the sudden shock of facing a tumble down the stairs does make me freeze.

"Good girl," he whispers as he descends with me in his arms. We're almost halfway down the stairs before I regain my senses and start fighting again.

He stops and grips me by the throat with one hand, squeezing hard. "Better settle down, while I'm still in a good mood, Roxie. You won't like me in a bad mood."

It's a threat I believe. But I'm past caring. I'd rather die than go with him. I'd rather die than know my dad is dead.

But his grip on my throat is making me woozy and lightheaded, until I can't make my arms punch his anymore, or my legs kick.

Everything’s going dark, but not dark enough that I don't feel him moving with me in his arms. We're outside now, the flames from our burning garage illuminating a group of men on bikes.

Lizard carries me to an empty one and straddles it, with me in the front, squeezed between his bulk and the handlebars. He finally releases my throat, and the smoke mixed breath of air feels like coming back to life.

"Better stay still now. You don't want to fall off." I'd rather do that than go anywhere with him, but I can't control my arms and legs very well yet, and he's still holding me very tight.

"Let's ride!" he yells to his men and revs up his bike.

Most of them soon overtake us, because he's going slowly on account of having to transport me. But two of his men stay in the front, and I can hear the roar of other engines behind us.

He's holding both my wrists in one meaty palm as he presses me to his stomach, while controlling the bike with just one hand on the handlebars. I have to get free. I won’t go anywhere with him. I won’t.

But I can only wriggle a little. Not enough to get free, not by a long shot.

The sound of another roaring bike comes from behind, this one going much faster than the others. A gunshot is followed by breaks screeching, metal thudding against the asphalt as one of the men behind us crashes.

"What's happening?" Lizard yells, but gets no reply.

Another shot sounds, a bullet whizzing very close past me, and narrowly missing one of the two bikers in front. The red of their brake lights blinds me, as Lizard brakes hard to avoid a collision.

"Stop, you fucking cowards!" my brother Ice's yell reaches me, sends my heart fluttering in happiness like I've never felt before. They're not all dead. Ice is alive. And he'll save me.

"Stop and face me!" Ice yells.

"Let's oblige him, shall we, brothers?" Lizard shouts and since they're all going slower now, he is heard.

Lizard turns his bike and rolls to a halt, as the men behind us block Ice's path. He veers hard as he breaks, but jumps off his bike and lets it crash into the bushes by the side of the road. He’s already rushing the man closest to him before his bike even stops.

One of Lizard's man goes down, pinned under his bike, his screams of pain echoing through the again silent night.

The other bikers that were riding behind us pull out their guns, which gleam deathly silver in the moonlight.

"No, Ice! Run! Get away!" I scream, causing him to look in my direction sharply, disbelief and shock clearly visible in his face.

Two men shoot at the same time, but miss, because Ice is already running towards me and Lizard, running as fast as only he can. The others don't dare shoot now that he's so close to their leader.

Lizard seems confused too, his grip on me loosening as Ice draws closer. He has to let me go to defend himself, and I seize the moment, throw myself off the bike a split second before the pommel of Ice's gun lands against the side of Lizard's head.

Ice grabs him right after and hoists him off the bike, pressing the gun to his temple. I'm still on the ground, looking from Ice to the four men approaching us in a circle, swarming like vultures.

"Any closer and he's dead!" Ice warns them, but it doesn't stop their advance completely. They only slow their steps.

"Run, Roxie," Ice tells me.

"Come with me," I plead, getting to my feet.

"Behind you!" I shriek as I notice that one of the bikers has almost reached him.

Ice pulls Lizard sideways to get out of his way.

"Run!" he shouts at me, letting go of Lizard for a split second to toss his brown leather wallet to me.

I pick it up with shaking hands.

"Go, Roxie. Run fast. I'll be right behind you," he says more softly, smiling at me. "Just gotta take care of this scum first."

I do as he says, run straight through the bushes lining the road and across the moonlit field to the woods on the other side. I run faster than I've ever run, the cold air burning my throat, sure that I can hear Ice's thudding footsteps right behind me.

But when I turn just before reaching the trees, he's nowhere. I hear yells though, see a flash of gunfire, hear a scream. Then two men are running towards me, silhouetted by the headlights of the bikes. But neither of them is Ice. And I know that shot was for him. He died saving me.

Hot tears are running down my face as I run into the trees, gasping for breath, not caring how many branches hit my face.

I run and run, not feeling my body at all, deeper into the woods, with no sense of direction, just forward, just away. Rain that was threatening all afternoon, starts coming down. It only hisses through the branches at first, but soon fat, freezing cold raindrops are mixing with the tears streaming down my face as the ground beneath my feet starts turning to mud.

I keep on running. Run until I collapse, my whole body cramping up and shaking violently, my bare feet throbbing in pain. I manage to pull myself under the shelter of a large oak tree, listen hard for sounds of pursuit. But all I hear is the rain. No footsteps, no voices, no yells. Just the rain. Just the hissing of the rain.

I wake up with the dawn, shaking from the cold, my face, my arms and my feet throbbing in pain. Birds are singing in the tree branches above me, the world peaceful and calm.

Then I see Ice's wallet, which I'm still clutching hard in my hand. And I remember it all. My father's eyes losing the light of life, Lizard's smelly breath as he tells me I'm his, and Ice's promise that he's right behind me. Only he isn't. He died on that road. Died saving me. I'm yearning to go back, to check, to find him, to make sure, to die too. But that would be no way to repay his sacrifice.

I have to keep running.