CAL
The rumble, the noise, the sound of shouts and screams – it all hits me instantly as I pull up my cycle to the action. I’m about thirty feet back from the frontline where the boys wearing Mustang jackets are ducking behind bushes and trees, discarded truck tires and shot out cars. Weren’t we just here weeks ago at the other side of the broken glass windows?
I can’t flashback right now. I need to focus. We get the job started, go on to round two, and get to the final stage before it is too late. While Jager yells his commands, I try to see the Addison Bell in him. Second in command, he’s still the guy who makes the main call for the Coyotes. And, by all accounts from Red Dog’s intel, he’s the one holding Maddie, Michelle, and Erin right now.
What is he thinking? What are his plans? The first rule in a motorcycle war is to know your enemy. And I just have to hope and pray that Ace’s instincts that he will send more men out to fight us off is the right call. That, or we may not survive this first battle to make it on to the warehouse round.
“Cal! Tell the armory car to send in more bullets. The men outside the alley are going to need it. They’re seeing reinforcements coming in.”
“So,” I shout loudly toward him as he stares out in the distance using a pair of beat up binoculars. “It’s working? If they’re sending in men, Addison knows our plan and is dispensing troops away from the warehouse and the repair shop.”
Jager looks at me impatiently, “Yeah. I guess so.” He motions toward the phone in my hand, “Call the damn armory truck now before I send you out of here! I can’t have you slacking because you’re too invested.”
I obey my orders, quickly dialing the number and then dishing out the commands. The last thing I want to do is be sent home to wait for word about Maddie and Michelle’s wellbeing. I need to be here. I need to fight for both of them. No one could do that like me. I just needed to get in there to get off that nervous, impulsive steam.
As I press end on my phone call, I turn back to my leader, “I’m gonna go down and reinforce the alley team, Jager.”
“Like hell you’re not! We’re out of here in fifteen minutes. That’s not enough time to get your ass back here without it being covered in bullet holes. Just be patient, Cal.”
“I can make it. I’m not going to let those guys go down around me for my cause without me putting my life on the line. You know they need me, so just let me go hold the line and survey what’s happening. I can move some guys around, make a few plays. And I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.” I’m pleading with him now, hoping he’ll hear my need to just have some bite of that action.
He doesn’t look back at me as he hands me the pistol in the black and brown leather holster tied tight around his waist. “You better be back on time and in one piece or you’re not going to that warehouse. Do you understand me?” I nod quickly as he adds, “Report back to me and let me know what’s going on. I want a tally.”
I walk away, down the small hill next to the abandoned convenience store towards where we parked our bikes. The streets are empty, completely devoid of anyone foolish enough to step foot outside their house. When you live next to biker gang headquarters, it’s just part of the drill. At first gunfire, you close your blinds, lock your door, and turn the television up for your kids.
I weave in and out of the alleyways leading towards the central attack area. The smell of smoke and powder tells me I’m getting close. As I slow down, bringing my bike to a gentle purr, I spot a man leaning against the garage. He’s younger, probably under the age of thirty. He clutches his waist underneath his jacket as he stares down at his blood soaked arm. I park my bike and run up to him, taking note that he’s one of us: the good guys.
He knows my face, meekly calling out to me, “Cal? Cal? Can you help me?” I kneel down to him, examining his injuries. His face is bruised, the black and blue mixing in with his dark brown beard. “I’ve been shived. Those bastards cut me with a switchblade when we tried to get through the alley.”
I twist the knot holding the bandana wrapped around my throat free and reach under his jacket to push it flush against the bleeding, hot wound. “How many more Mustangs did they get? Is anyone else down over here?” I scan the area, trying to spot anyone else I’ll need to rescue.
“No, just me. I was the first one in. Had to be the guinea pig, right?” He laughs as a spot of blood trickles down his pale pink lips. “But I’m going to be okay, right? I mean, it’s just a little wound. I’ve seen guys with worse.”
I look back down at him, his hands shaking as he takes over holding on to the bandana for me. In that moment, I have no idea how to answer his question. I’ve seen worse, sure. Lots of men get knifed in battles like this when there aren’t enough guns to go around. But I’ve also seen men die from little cuts and scrapes I wouldn’t have paid attention to.
Suddenly, I realize that the “tally” Jager wants me to take is not of the Coyotes marching in on our position, the men remaining, or the number of weapons lost. The “tally” is the number of guys out there fighting in the name of Maddie and my family – young guys like this one clutching to the idea that he was going to get out of here.
I stare into his fading eyes and make him a promise, “I don’t know, kid. But I swear to you I’m going to get you out of here and to the doc. You hear me?”
He begins to smile weakly, but he is cut off. His eyes widen as he lifts a hand. I turn in time to see man leap on top of me, pushing me down into the ground on the side of the injured Mustang. The attacker screams as he punches me in the face, landing blow after blow into my temple and cheek. I manage to wrap my legs around him to pull him down with me. I can end this right now, but the gun Jager gave me is gone. And both him and I notice that it’s fallen next to me at the same time, each of our hands racing to grab it first.
Neither of us make it. The Mustang is there before I have a chance. He fires it off quickly as it hits the attacker in the thigh. He lets out a blood-curdling yell as the Mustang drops the gun to the ground and looks back at me completely satisfied.
In the distance, I hear more noise coming from behind one of the nearby homes. And I’m not about to risk finding out if it is friendly or not. I grab the Mustang, pulling him to his feet, and throw him on the back of my bike. He clings on to me as I spin the bike around and speed off towards where Jager was stationed. I pull up to the armory truck just a few blocks away and two men run off to gather him as he collapses into his arms.
I look down at my phone, now covered in the bright red blood of another man. I’ve only got two minutes to get back to Jager and report in. I wave towards the Mustang who saved my life, thanking him once more before getting on the bike and driving on. Jager is waiting for me, his bike running next to him. Ace and Red Dog are already moving on, followed by the leaders of the second group.
“What was the tally, Cal? How are the lines?” Jager looks at me as I toss him his gun back.
“I didn’t get there. But there’s a kid in the med truck with info this team’s going to need. Let the crew know they need to talk to him before they make another play.”
Jager looks at me with reverence, understanding that what I saw wasn’t just regular fighting. I was coming back from the heart of the battle, and I was ready to move on. The second team, led by Red Dog, heads in the direction of the warehouse armed to the brim with guns and homemade Molotov cocktails ready to be fired. As we hit the intersection, I reach over the street and gave Red Dog my hand in thanks. What he is doing and has done for my girl and me are beyond my ability to show gratitude. But I still give him my hand and tell him I’ll see him back at the clubhouse later that night. “Maddie will want to hear all about it, you got that?”
“You take care of our girl,” He smiles at me widely before winking one dark eye, “And say hello to Michelle, too. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see your dank ass.” The light turns green and he lifts his arm to show the men following closely behind to head left.
Ace, Jager, and I head out in the opposite direction, back towards the highway. Jager leads the way as I follow in the back. The highway’s traffic opens up as we hit the exit for the repair shop, each of us slowing down to lower the sounds of our engines. Jager finds a spot for us to park our bikes just a few doors down from the repair shop’s burnt out rubble. It’s the perfect position to spy what’s going on as we creep down through open yards towards the back of the shop where we are less likely to be spotted.
The three of us kneel behind a bush and take our turns peeking out with the binoculars towards the few bits of the building that remain. Ace spots it first, “Look to your left.” He points as both of us pop our heads above the hidden spot. “I can see the opening in the floor where the underground repair area would be. It’s under that large vent. Even in the fire, that spot would have remained intact.”
Jager asks as he takes the binoculars back, “Are you sure? Where would Addison Bell and the rest of them be, then?”
I look out again, my eyes squinting to see detail, clues, hints, anything. And then, I spot it. A car, not burnt or charred from my fire, is parked just out of clear view near a side entrance of the brick building. Jager sends Ace in for a closer look and we watch with our breaths held as he lowers himself to the ground and crawls through the tall grass towards the parking lot. He sits there, still as can be, for what feels like hours before turning back towards us, a hand in the air.
“That stupid fucking asshole,” Jager mutters under his breath, “get the fuck down.”
It’s too late. A shot rings out from the garage as we hear the scream of a young girl. I stand just in time to see Ace fall backwards into the tan colored grass. I yell out, “Maddie! Michelle!” as I race towards the garage, my gun in hand.
There’s a loud bang of glass falling and shattering, a call out in the dark. Michelle is screaming my name, but I can’t see her. But I keep running towards the battle. No one is going to stop me now.