Tanner
They rode back that night in pairs, with Tyke on the back of Tanner's motorcycle, and Cam on the back of Blade's. There was a cloud cover that hung low and blocked the moon, which was good for what they had planned, but not so much for riding without the headlamp on. The cadre of raiders got down from their bikes and crept along the road, just like earlier in the day, towards the cutoff that would lead them down to the rear of the compound.
The compound itself was barely lit, with just a few bare-bulb fixtures hanging over the entryways, and one set of lights lit near the main entrance. As long as they didn't go through the middle of the area, Tanner figured, they'd be fine getting in and out.
Regardless, Tanner's nerves were shot. This was either a great plan, or a horrendously stupid one. But what else did they have? He just had to find out who that guy was, and why he'd come gunning for him and his family. He wouldn't be able to sleep at night until he found out and was able to mete out a little of his own kind of justice.
Cam had the bolt cutters in hand, and Tanner was in charge of the Molotov cocktail that Tyke had thrown together. Tanner gripped the bottle tight, the handkerchief hanging loose down the side and down the bottle.
“Remember,” Blade whispered. “We start the fire. We get back under cover. We see if our mystery man is one of the guys that comes to put it out. Got it?”
The men nodded. They made their way down the rough trail, the limbs and leaves tearing at their hair and jackets as they went, trudging through the shadows of the trees.
Tanner had played in these woods, when he was a kid. He and Brendon and some of the other boys, all on the little 50cc dirt bikes that Pops had bought them for their birthdays. They'd only been out late like this a couple times, and he'd remembered how creepy the woods could get.
Man, their pops had tanned their hides that night they'd come home late. Told them he'd whipped them so bad cause Mom had been worried sick. Now, though, as he thought to how protective he felt of the little Rainier growing in Star's belly, he wondered if just his mom had been worried.
Soon, they arrived at the gate at the back of the old fence, though, and Tanner had to push all the other thoughts from his mind. This was serious work that had to be done, and done right.
Cam came up with the bolt cutters and cut through the rusty lock, dropping the broken hunk of metal to the leaf-covered ground. From there, they had just another twenty or thirty feet to the storage building. They pulled open the gate with a creak and a squeal of old, rusty hinges.
Tanner took the lead, firebomb in one hand, his pops' old lighter in the other. He stayed low as he half-jogged to the back of the storage unit. Right behind him, he could hear Blade's heavy footfalls striking on the hard-packed dirt.
“Ready?” Blade whispered in a harsh-sounding voice.
“Yeah,” Tanner whispered back. He could just make out Blade's features in the dark. “You?”
The president of the Blood Warriors nodded.
Tanner ran his pops' old metal lighter down the leg of his jeans, flipping open the lid, then zipped it back down the other direction and struck the wheel on the flint. A flame kindled to life, and he lit the handkerchief. Flame flickered up the cotton, and Tanner sent the bottle sailing through the air.
The Molotov cocktail went perfectly through the back window and shattered inside. Immediately, flames began licking at the air inside the storage unit, growing quickly with intensity.
“Shit, Tanner,” Blade hissed beside him, grabbing him by the vest.
“What?” Tanner asked.
“There's red canisters in there,” Blade yelled as he grabbed Tanner and threw him to the ground, leaping on top of him. A loud whoomph went up, and an ear-splitting boom ripped through the compound.
Blade was up and off of Tanner, screaming as he patted at the back of his vest. Tongues of flame licked at the night sky, and the president's hands beat at the fire ineffectively.
Now it was Tanner's turn to yank his old mentor to the ground. “Roll!”
As Blade rolled on the ground, Tanner threw dirt on him, trying to finish the smothering of the dying flames.
There was a loud thunk and suddenly, the area on the other side of the burning storage unit lit up bright as day. Flood lights illuminated the whole area, and men began to yell to alert the others.
Tanner reached down, grabbed Blade by his vest, and bodily yanked him to his feet. Together, they ran back to the open gate and fled into the forest. He looked back over his shoulder at the burning wreckage, but could only make out vague forms screaming for water hoses and buckets.
Beside him, Blade groaned in pain as they passed through. “Shit, shit, shit,” he swore as they got down in the brush next to Tyke and Cam. “My hands, I think they're fucked.”
“Well,” Tyke growled, “that didn't go to plan.”
“Yeah,” Tanner agreed. “Guess we should have checked if it was their fuel storage before we torched it.”
Blade hissed. “I gotta get to the hospital, boys.”
“You sure?” Cam asked.
“This ain't good, that's damn certain.”
Tanner looked back at the storage unit. The smoke was thick and heavy, and the back lighting from the flood lights was too bright. There was no chance they were going to see their mystery man, not in that mess.
“Okay,” Tanner agreed. “Let's get you some help.”
Together, the four of them made their way up through the wood and to the back road they'd parked their bikes on. They were all huffing and puffing with the exertion, Tanner least of all, and Blade most.
“Cam, you and Tyke take my bike back to the clubhouse, make sure it's safe. My hands are fucked, and I ain't gonna be able to ride for a while.”
“I'll take him out to a hospital,” Tanner said, stepping in.
“Which one?” Tyke asked as they took the keys and climbed on Blade's bike.
“Better you don't know,” Tanner said. “If something happens, and the cops get involved, there's no sense in you two taking the fall.”
“No sense in any of you taking it,” Blade butted in, his focus on Tanner, “you mean.”
“Whatever,” Tanner said.
This had gone tits-up, far as he was concerned. And, from just looking at Blade's hands he knew the old man needed help, and needed help fast. But, if things came down to taking the blame, he'd accept all the responsibility in a heartbeat. Half a heartbeat, even. These men were out here helping him with his problem, as much as with the Blood Warriors. He couldn't expect Blade to take the heat.
Of course, he didn't need to have an argument with the president of the club, and definitely not in front of the other members. No sense in pressing the point now. Besides, if you were a member of the club, you followed orders. Right now, the most important thing was to get him some help, and to get it fast.
This had been a waste, all a stupid waste. And, on top of everything, Blade had hurt himself while he was saving Tanner. If he hadn't thrown Tanner to the ground, it would have been his face, instead of Blade's back going up in flames like that.
Worst of all? They didn't even find out any thing useful.
Tanner sighed as, together, they climbed on Tanner's bike and took off down the dirt road. Tyke and Cam were right behind them.