Chapter Seven

Seth picked his binoculars up. The moon had faded to a thin sliver in the night sky, and even on this clear night he couldn’t see shit out here in the desert… except for the flashlight beams. Three of them, just like they’d worked out. In the binoculars, Seth could make out the barest hint of the people holding them.

He picked up his walkie-talkie and flipped the switch. “Nick’s in position,” he said.

“Got it.” Mikey’s voice came over the other end.

Seth flipped the switch again and put the walkie-talkie down. Things were going smoothly so far. They had no indication that they should be going any other way.

“What are we doing?” Little Nick was driving him tonight. He was what they called a Journeyman in the Double Eagles. He was experienced enough that he put in work, so he wore the Club colors, but he hadn’t put enough work in to be a Member.

Seth shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “Mr. Corovic will show up when he shows up.”

This screwed up wedding. His brother’s fiancé was so pregnant she was barely going to make it down the aisle, and their father was inviting old family friends in from halfway across the world to see it.

Tonight, they were waiting for a particularly talented and important family friend. So talented and important, he had to come into the country at two in the morning via a tiny plane flying with no lights.

Seth watched through binoculars as the flashlights formed a makeshift landing strip in the flat, sandy field in the middle of nowhere.

Beside him, the walkie-talkie crackled. “He’s out. Come on over.”

“Go,” Seth said, pointing toward the flashlights in the distance.

Little Nick started the van and gunned it forward, squinting in the darkness. The flashlights ahead of them all died except for one, giving them a point to get to for their rendezvous with Mr. Corovic.

A group of Enforcers had been sent to meet with this distinguished friend of Seth’s late grandfather. Cody opened the door and helped him inside. He wore a well-cut suit and smelled faintly of tobacco smoke.

In his memories, Mr. Corovic’s presence in a room had kind of a silencing effect. Seth had thought maybe that was a distortion, but it wasn’t. Nobody really seemed eager to talk or move around or make any kind of noise at all as the darkened van sped across the desert.

“How far is it to clubhouse?” Mr. Corovic was sitting in the middle seat just behind Seth, both hands clasped on the head of his walking stick.

“We’re three hours out of town, sir,” Cody said.

“Hmm.” Mr. Corovic nodded. “Very good.”

In the distance, Seth saw a light appear in the sky, moving east at a very good clip. He smiled. How many UFO stories were gonna come out of that one?

***

The clubhouse was not Watty’s, and Watty’s business was not conducted at the clubhouse, although plenty of clubhouse business was conducted at Watty’s. The clubhouse was the original Novak family farm, built back in the nineteen hundreds about fifteen miles south of Canyon Bluffs. The county had made a special ordinance to make them tear down the guard towers at the head of the driveway, but they still had guards posted there.

The clubhouse was not the Family House, either. The Family House was technically on the property next door and was now owned by Jessica and Cody. It was a nondescript one-story building with white stucco on the exterior. It had been built back in the seventies when Watty’s had been briefly shut down by the Feds, and the Club needed a new place to conduct its more important business.

Seth had, at one point, moved out and gotten a place of his own. After that night on the Interstate, he’d sold the place to cover his medical bills and moved back here where his family could take care of him full-time.

It was still weird waking up in the bedroom he’d had when he was a kid. He’d left up the late 80s metal posters and pirate flag up on the wall. It was a reminder that he wasn’t staying here for the rest of his life.

His mornings still took forever, but they were getting easier. It really helped to have his leg braces. He was strong enough now that he could, if he put his braces on, get to the bathroom and get himself ready without any help. That uninterrupted half-hour of privacy was worth every second he had spent in physical therapy.

As soon as they’d brought him home from the hospital, his brothers had built him a ramp, so he could get in and out of the family house. From there, it was a short trip up a gravel path—also put in when Seth’s prognosis was more of a shrug and a pitying expression to the old farmhouse.

The walker was getting easier to manage day by day, even when the ground didn’t allow him to roll the wheels along. That god-awful afternoon when Tracey had gotten her DUI had helped.

Of course, Seth couldn’t think back to that afternoon without getting a shit-eating grin on his face. What was that saying? After the rain comes the best blowjob you’ve gotten in years?

The sound of engines coming down the driveway made him pause as he neared the clubhouse’s back door. Two men on bikes were approaching. Seth waved, and they both saluted back.

When they got close enough to park their bikes, Seth could see that it was Nick and Kevin.

“You’re up early!” Kevin still walked with a limp from his gunshot wound, and probably always would. But he was walking.

“Didn’t you hear?” Seth said. “I’m a schoolboy now.”

“Yeah, shit, I guess Dad was right,” Kevin said. “He said you were all serious about it and all.”

He paused in front of Seth, looking him over with the kind of disbelief he’d had on his face since that night on the Interstate.

Seth reached out and hugged his brother with one arm, the way they used to embrace each other. “Good to see you, bro,” he said. “Wyoming treat you good?”

“It sure did,” Kevin said with a wide grin. “Made some money, took care of some stuff didn’t run into no trouble with anybody.”

“Knew you’d be good for it,” Seth said.

Kevin nodded. For a few seconds, he looked Seth over. “You’re walking.”

“More or less, man,” Seth said. “Physical therapy’s been a bitch.”

“It’s working, though,” Kevin said. “Hell, for a while there it sounded like...well.”

“You know, fuck those doctors,” Seth said. “They all work for the government at the end of the day. They didn’t want to see me stand up again.”

“Yeah, fuck ‘em,” Kevin said. “You look good.”

“Jessica’s coming a few minutes behind us,” Cody said. “Said to tell you she just had to stop for gas.”

“Word.” Seth looked out to the road. There was a pang in his chest that went along with thinking about the road, about speeding across the blacktop on his way to God only knew where.

“You want help inside?” Cody said. “Marcie made breakfast.”

“Yeah, man,” Seth said. “Thanks. Should she still be cooking this far along?”

“She insisted,” Cody said. “Wants to make a good impression on Mr. Corovic.”

“Don’t we all,” Nick said as he walked ahead to the back door.

“Watch it, kid,” Cody said, glaring at their youngest brother.

“Okay, boss.” Nick smiled at them as he held the door open.

Cody’s jaw worked as he half-lifted Seth up the stairs into the Clubhouse’s kitchen. Nick always had grated on him a little. He always got a big head after he got a job done for the Club, and the Wyoming job had been his most important one yet.

“Baby, is that you?” Marcie came around the corner, brandishing a pancake whisk. When she wasn’t nine months pregnant she was a skinny girl, almost as tall as Cody with natural copper hair. She was wearing a blue dress with a bow on the top of her baby bump, which looked pretty funny with her expensive running shoes.

“Hey, Marcie,” Cody said. Once he’d made sure Seth was resettled with his walker, he went to give her a kiss. “Is Dad here?”

“He’s coming by nine,” Marcie said. “Kevin! Oh my God, I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“What’s up?” Kevin said. He embraced his future sister-in-law a little less awkwardly than he did Seth. “Jesus, how long?”

Marcie shrugged. “Doctor says three weeks?” she said. “I’m just happy your sister knows a good seamstress! We might have to take the dress in between the rehearsal and the wedding!”

“Don’t scare me like that, baby.”

“Seth!” Jessica’s voice came from the front room. “Seth are you back there?”

“Yeah, Jess,” Seth said. As he made his way through the kitchen, he realized how long it had been since he’d spent much time in the clubhouse. It put a bad taste in his mouth.

It wasn’t just that it was hard for him to get into right now. It was...well, he had no reason to be there. He might be alive. He might be walking. Hell, he might even be getting ready to ditch the walker and get around on a pair of crutches.

But the Double Eagles was a motorcycle club, and if Seth wasn’t riding he wasn’t really putting work in, was he?

***

That bad taste in Seth’s mouth persisted through the day. He didn’t have Geology on Mondays, just History and Algebra. Neither one of them was any harder than anything he’d studied in high school, which was both good and bad.

Good, because he didn’t have to spend as much time on it as he thought he’d have to. Bad, because he was bored to death, and if he was in a bad mood there was almost nothing to distract him from it.

Fortunately, he had an appointment with Danielle after classes. Last time, he’d felt her needle burning a little in an area that had been completely numb when the linework was going in.

Jessica was waiting for him in the parking lot, smoking while she leaned against her car.

“Look at you,” she said. “You’ll be back on your bike in no time.”

“You think so, huh?” Seth smiled. “I only had to take half a pill this morning and another whole one between classes.”

Jessica’s eyebrows arched as she stepped aside from the door. “Nice going,” she said. “Who knew you’d be the responsible one with pills?”

Seth swung the door open and turned around to get himself into the car. His legs were starting to spasm after this long bout of walking around, and when he was sitting down it was more noticeable.

“Are you okay?” Jessica said.

“I’m fine.” Seth slammed the door shut, and his sister got his walker into the backseat. “I’m just tired.”

“Stressed out?” Jessica got in the driver’s seat and buckled up. “Put your seatbelt on, idiot,” she said.

Seth rolled his eyes. “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

“You know, you don’t have to be on the walker every day,” Jessica said. “It doesn’t look like a whole lot of fun.”

“If it were supposed to be fun, they wouldn’t call it a spinal injury.” Seth glared at his reflection in the window. “I can’t get stronger if I don’t work at it.”

“Yeah?” Jessica said. “This family has a problem with working themselves to death.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Seth said. “This is my problem to deal with.”

“It’s really not,” Jessica said.

Seth didn’t respond. She didn’t need to tell him how much of a problem he’d become for his whole family.

***

Danielle was finishing the color work on the angel today. She smelled more like vodka than usual, and she had absolutely no interest in small talk with any of her customers.

That was fine with Seth. He lay on the table with his arms folded beneath his chin, watching passersby and trying not to wonder if he had lost sensation in a new spot on his back.

A familiar car rolled up in front and took a long, long time to parallel park. Seth almost laughed. If he didn’t have a tattoo gun in his back, he would have.

He came in and stared around at his surroundings like a nervous squirrel. He smiled when he saw Seth and waved.

“Professor,” Seth said.

“Hey, no bullshitting while I’m working,” Danielle said, waving Pete away.

“Oh.” Pete backed up a little. “Okay.” He turned around and walked to the waiting room, looking a little deflated.

“Jesus, Danielle,” Seth said.

“Not in the fuckin’ mood today, Novak,” Danielle said. “This ain’t no goddamn date night in here.”

Seth watched as Pete started scrolling through his phone. His presence had been so close to being a welcome distraction from Seth’s shitty day.

Actually.

Seth picked up his own phone and opened his school email. A little searching and he had Pete’s email address.

Deciding what to send him took a little longer. Seth settled for You free later? I wanna ask you about some rocks.

He knew Pete had gotten the email when Pete’s face turned beet red. He stared at his phone for a couple of minutes, glancing up at Seth now and then and looking immediately away.

Seth’s phone buzzed. [email protected] had sent him an all caps DON’T EMAIL ME ABOUT NON-CLASS BUSINESS. Seth frowned, but Pete’s emails had an auto-signature with his phone number in it.

When Seth looked across the tattoo parlor and grinned at him, Pete turned red again. He stood and hurried out of Hell’s Gate Tattoos, obviously trying not to smile.

“I swear to God if you don’t stop moving I will throw you out with him,” Danielle said. “Not in the mood!”