Pope
“Tell me again, what are you gonna do to him.”
I spin around, searching for the man who the voice belongs to. Everything is slow around me, like I’m under water and can’t reach the surface. All of a sudden, I’m falling and then I’m sitting next to Oak at the bar.
He’s here.
But he’s not.
He pours two shots of whiskey and pushes a glass towards me.
“I know you don’t drink often, old friend, but have a drink with me and tell how me how you’re gonna make him hurt.”
He holds his glass up and I tip mine to his and we both neck the burning liquid.
“I’m going to cut out his tongue so I don’t have to hear a word out of his mouth. I’m gonna slice him up real fuckin’ good and peel his face off.”
He laughs and it echoes around the bar. Fuck I miss that sound.
“I can always count on you,” he says, sobering up.
My heart grows as heavy as lead and my throat closes up around everything I want to say to him.
“I wasn’t there when you really needed me, was I.”
“What’s done is done, ain’t no changing it now. What I need is for the Lost Souls to rise up and show every motherfucker, you can’t fuck with us.”
“We’re working on it, brother.”
He pours another drink for himself and refills my glass. Why not, I throw it down my neck and slam the empty glass on the bar.
“I don’t think I ever asked you for a favour,” he murmurs, nursing his drink.
“Ask me now, whatever you need.”
He looks at me and his eyes aren’t the same. They aren’t his eyes. They’re dead, cold, hard, worst of all, they’re soulless.
“Chain him up, keep him alive for four days and make him feel everything I did. Then, kill him.”
“I promise you now, on my life, he won’t be able to comprehend the level of pain we’re gonna put him in when we get our hands on him.”
“That’s all I need to find peace.”
“You’ve got it, brother,” I vow, and then ask, “Have you seen anyone on the other side yet?”
This makes him laugh, uncontrollably. He drinks straight from the bottle and throws it over his shoulder when he’s finished. There is no sound of the bottle smashing, there’s no sound at all.
“You’re dreaming, Pope. Wake up and get that son of a bitch.”
Before I can say a word, he’s gone and I’m standing back in the middle of the bar. Oak’s bar stool is covered in dust as if he wasn’t just sitting on it. I keep turning around, searching for him again. He can’t be gone, not yet.
“Be strong, Pope.”
Mark?
“Fuck him up.”
Micky?
“Rip his fucking throat out, my brother.”
Michael?
All I’m doing is spinning around, looking for my brothers but they’re nowhere to be seen. I can only hear them.
Oak isn’t with them yet. He’s not resting in peace, he isn’t having it with our fallen brothers like we all believe and he won’t until Danny’s blood has been spilled.
Something knocks me back and I land on my ass. No one’s there though.
“Tear him apart.”
“Rip him from limb to limb.”
“Bathe in his fucking blood.”
I hear them but I can’t see them.
Again, something hits me but this time, I’m on the couch in the cabin and I’m awake with Sparky standing over me.
“Are you okay, brother?” he asks.
I must’ve fallen asleep when we got back.
“I’m good.”
Although, I’m not sure that I am. Sparky takes me at my word and nods.
“Wait,” I call out, when he goes to leave the room.
I pull myself up and nod for him to join me outside. Once we’re alone I say, “I might sound crazy, but Oak isn’t at peace, he needs Danny to go through everything he did. He needs more than shooting him on sight.”
I’ve known Sparky hell of a long time and there’s only been a handful of times he’s looked concerned. Most of the time he is the one with the quick remark, the jokes, a little like Oak. Right now, he’s concerned as he stares at me.
“Was it Oak who you were just dreaming about? You weren’t sleepin’ peacefully, brother.”
My throat is dry so I jerk my head in response.
“You don’t sound crazy, you knew Oak well and for a long time. It’s your conscious tellin’ you what Oak would’ve wanted. We all know it.”
He grips my shoulder and squeezes, it offers little comfort but I take it without shrugging him off.
“A bullet was never goin’ to be enough for Danny, nor for Oak, nor us. It’s gonna take us days to clean his blood off our hands when we’re done with him.”
That’s what I needed to hear, I hope Oak can hear it too.
“Cas has been sending him messages for the last couple of hours from their phones, so far, nothing has come back.”
“He got straight on us when we had the sister, but not his brothers?” I say, confused.
“He will do, we just have to wait. Get some air and clear your head, then join us inside.”
I don’t move until he has walked inside and I take in a deep breath. Shaking off the dream is a lot harder to do when it felt so real. It felt good to talk with the old fucker again. It felt real good.
I was always closest to Michael, he was the one who brought me into the club all those years ago and he was the one who I could talk to when I needed an outlet. Until his betrayal, I would’ve done anything for him. Once he crossed the line, my loyalty to him instantly vanished. All the years of friendship, of brotherhood, were gone and I felt nothing. Oak has been gone for a couple of weeks and I feel everything.
There is only me left from the beginning of this club and it weighs heavy on me, yet I still have the strength to keep fighting for the brothers who can’t fight themselves, because at the end of the day, brothers die but brotherhood never dies with them.