Xander
Xander’s stomach tightened as he spotted the Spawn HQ in the distance. He clenched the handlebars of his bike, trying to let the growling of the engine blot out his thoughts. But it was no use—he couldn’t shake the fact that he was going to his execution.
You’re doing it for Jack, he thought, gritting his teeth. Nothing else matters but keeping him safe. Not even your own life.
The squat little building grew in the distance, and soon he was there. No one was outside, but the rows of bikes parked out in front made it clear that he wasn’t alone. Xander parked, killed the engine, and dismounted his ride.
The place was quiet—too quiet for Xander’s liking. The air was so still that he could hear perfectly the soft squish of his boots on the ground.
“I’m here!” he shouted out into the silence. “Scar! Where the fuck are you?”
But there was no response. He glanced around for any sign of Jack, but he saw nothing. He found himself wondering if this was all some kind of set-up, some way to make him look like a fool, some way to taunt him by showing just how easy it was to get him to jump at their beck and call.
Before he could give the matter too much thought, however, the door to the HQ opened, and out came one biker after another. Xander stood firm, staring down each man as he exited. He recognized most of the men as the remnants of the Devil’s Spawn; they were the easiest to pick out, as each of them took their turn glaring hard at Xander, the man who’d been instrumental in breaking the back of their gang. Each of them seemed to have one thing on his mind, that being what exactly they’d do to Xander if they could get their hands on him.
About two dozen men came out in total, the group a mix of the Spawn and the new group that they’d allied themselves with. And just when Xander found himself wondering where Scar was, the man stepped out from the darkened interior of the bar and looked at Xander with a pleased expression.
“There’s our man,” said Scar in his thin voice, his dark, sunken eyes scanning over Xander. “Pat him down.”
A pair of men rushed over to Xander and checked him for weapons.
“You told me to come unarmed, so that’s what I did,” said Xander. “Now, show me that the boy’s safe.”
A wicked little grin formed on Scar’s ugly mouth.
“In time,” he said. “Right now I just want to savor the fact that I’ve got the man who was responsible for causing me so much fucking grief right by the balls. I mean, I could do whatever I wanted with you right now—I could take you in back and let my boys take turns torturing you. Plenty of my men would just love the chance to get a little payback for the men you killed.”
“I could just shoot you in the gut, let you bleed out in the dirt like a hog while you cried out for mama. That might be fun to watch. Hell, I could carve up that little rugrat right in front of you, give you a little taste of what it’s like to have the tables turned on you.”
“You so much as lay a hand on him—”
Xander’s voice dripped with rage. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to pull Scar’s throat out with his bare hands.
“Calm down, champ,” said Scar. “I haven’t quite decided what I’m gonna do, but I’m leaning towards just going with our original arrangement. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not happy with having you helpless right in front of me.”
Scar slipped one hand casually into his pocket and began strolling back and forth.
“Quite a little move you and the rest of the Hunters pulled on us; really got the drop on our little crew. And I heard you and the rest of the boys didn’t waste any time in having yourself a little party the night you put half of our crew in the morgue. But now that the golden boy’s here, I’m thinking that making a little example out of you for the rest of the Shadow Hunters will send a nice message about getting too cocky for their own good.”
Then, suddenly, Scar pulled a large chrome pistol out of from behind his back, pointed it directly at Xander and approached him with long strides. Soon, he was right on top of Xander, the gun pressed to Xander’s forehead. Then he pulled the trigger.
Xander winced in anticipation of the shot, but it never came. Once he realized the gun was empty, he took in a long draw of breath through his nose.
“Look at mister tough guy,” said Scar. “I was hoping for at least a plea for your life. Maybe I will have to torture you a little—after all, what’s the fun in killing an enemy if he doesn’t beg for his life at least a little bit.”
“Show me the fucking boy,” said Xander, his voice firm. “And he’d better be fucking alive.”
Scar raised his eyebrows.
“Now, I don’t know if you’ve noticed the two-dozen armed men behind me who all want a little piece of you to keep as a souvenir, but you’re not really in a position to be demanding anything, my friend.”
He then tucked the gun back into his belt and turned away.
“But I suppose a little good faith is in order. Bring the car around!”
Xander heard the starting of a car engine and moments later, a dark blue sports car pulled out from behind the bar. Once it drew closer, Xander saw that Jack was in the backseat, his hands pressed against the glass as he saw Xander, a look of fear on his face. Xander’s stomach tightened as he saw his son, and it took every bit of restraint he had not to let the adrenaline rushing through his body take control.
But seeing his son safe was the only thing he wanted more than Scar’s head on a spike, so he held back.
“Let him go. Now,” said Xander, his voice a low growl.
“Now,” said Scar. “What did I say about making demands, my friend? You’re just going to have to realize that you’re in the backseat on this one; you got no say in where this ride goes.”
Scar then turned away in thought. Then, he pulled a clip out from his pocket and shoved it into the gun. Xander gritted his teeth even harder, knowing that whatever was going to happen, it was about to start now. His glance shot to Jack, and he saw that he was still pressed against the glass. His mouth opened and closed, but Xander couldn’t hear a word he was saying.
“See,” said Scar, turning back around and looking at the gun in his hand. “I’m pretty damn good with this thing. Even a little bit of a surgeon with it, if you can believe it. Now, my little Xander, what that means for you is that I know just where to put a round in a man to make sure that he doesn’t die. Or will die exactly when I want him to.”
“For example,” said Scar. “If I were to give you that gut shot I was telling you about, well, that means you’d be in probably as much pain as humanly possible. And you’d live for a good few hours before you bled out like a stuck pig. But that’s a little more pain than I’m thinking of putting you through right from the get-go. What I’ve got in mind, see, is maybe …”
He walked close to Xander and placed the gun against his upper thigh.
“… a shot right through the leg. All I need to do is make sure I miss the femoral artery, and that way the bullet will go in and out, nice and clean. You’ll live, but man-oh-man, will it hurt like the dickens. And I won’t have to worry about you making a break for it.”
He nodded to himself, pleased with what he was saying.
“Yeah,” he said. “That sounds pretty good to me. How about you, Xander?”
Scar was so close that Xander could smell his rotten scent. Part of him wanted to jump him, wrestle the gun out of his hand, and put a bullet right through his head. But he knew that Scar was right—as long as he had Jack, there wasn’t a thing Xander could do.
“Let the boy go,” said Xander.
“In time,” said Scar. “After I’m sure that you’re going to be nice and cooperative.”
He pressed the gun against Xander’s leg and placed his finger on the trigger.
“Might want to brace for this one, friend. It’s gonna hurt. A lot.”
Then, a gunshot rang out.
Xander looked around, the sound of the gun firing too distant for it to have been from Scar’s pistol. And as he turned his attention back to the men standing in the distance, he saw that one of them had dropped to the ground, a red splatter on the side of the building in front of where he stood.
“What the fuck?” said Scar to no one in particular.
Then another gunshot rang out, then another. Two more men dropped to the ground, the shots appearing to go clean through their heads.
“We’re under fire!” shouted one of the men.
“Take cover!” shouted Scar.
More gunshots cracked through the air as the men scrambled to hide behind whatever was nearby. Pings from the ricochets of the bullets hitting the side of the headquarters sounded, and Xander watched as the men pulled out their guns and fired back blindly in to the surrounding wood.
“It’s the fuckin’ Hunters!” exclaimed Scar, his eyes going wide with fear.
Xander saw his chance. With a lightning-quick movement, he stuck Scar in the shoulder of the arm that carried the gun, the weapon falling from his hand into the dirt. As soon as Scar saw what had happened, he lunged for the weapon. But Xander was too fast. Snatching the gun from the ground, Xander leveled his aim at Scar. But before he could get off a shot, one of the Spawn nearby fired a shot at Xander. The shot went wide, but gave Scar enough time to run from Xander and take cover.
Whoops and yells sounded out from the surrounding woods, and Xander watched as the Shadow Hunters emerged from the trees, all carrying weapons. The men all took cover, aiming their guns at the still-scrambling Spawn and picking off as many men as they could.
Jack, thought Xander.
Laying his eyes on the car, he darted from cover to cover, taking pot shots at the Spawn when he could. When he reached the car he pointed his gun at the man in the driver’s seat, who responded by jumping out of the car and pointing his gun at Xander. But he was too slow; Xander took aim and fired a quick shot, hitting the man in the shoulder and sending him collapsing to the ground. Xander then leaped over the hood, swatted the gun away from the man, and grabbed the keys off of the ground. Moments later, Xander was in the driver’s seat of the car.
“Xander!” shouted Jack, overjoyed to see him.
“You okay, buddy?”
“Yeah, I think so,” said Jack.
Xander reached back and gave Jack’s arm a squeeze.
“Good to see you, son,” said Xander, a smile forming on his face.
“Wait,” said Jack. “Does that mean …”
“That’s right,” said Xander, not giving a damn about the rule of keeping his fatherhood a secret. “I’m your daddy.”
Jack looked away for a moment, as if processing the information. Then he turned his eyes back to Xander, an excited expression on his face.
“Cool!” he said, giving a pump of his fist.
“Now, keep your dang head down,” said Xander, pulling the car out. “I’m gonna get you out of here.”
Jack nodded and ducked down into the foot area of the car, covering his head as he did.
Xander whipped the car around, driving between the crossfire of the Hunters and the Spawn. And as he did, he spotted none other than Daphne. She was near Cutter, staying close to him and in cover as Cutter fired at the Spawn. Xander pulled the car up next to her.
“Get the fuck in,” he shouted. “Right now!”
Daphne smiled broadly as she saw that Xander and Jack were both alive. She rushed over to the passenger’s side and climbed in.
“Oh, my baby,” she said, seeing Jack hidden. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”
“Save the reunion for later,” said Xander, giving Cutter a nod before reversing the car. “I gotta get you two clear.”
Xander gunned the engine and drove away from the battle, taking the car back to the road.
“Now, get behind the wheel and get the hell out of here as fast as possible,” he said.
“But—”
“No ‘buts’,” said Xander. “Unless you’re gonna go all Matrix on those assholes, the best thing you can do is get Jack out of here safe and sound.”
Daphne said nothing and nodded.
Xander moved to get out of the car, but before he did, he turned to Daphne, pulled her close, and gave her a hard kiss.
“Gross!” said Jack.
“I love you, baby,” said Daphne as Xander pulled away.
“You too, darlin’,” he said.
With that, he opened the car door and rushed back into the fray. Aiming his gun, he took out a pair of Spawn as he made his way to the bar. Turning back towards the trees, he saw that the rest of the Hunters were gaining ground and hadn’t appeared to have taken a single casualty.
Xander continued to fire off rounds as he rushed through the battlefield. He hopped over bodies as he scanned the scene, searching for Scar. Taking cover, he made his way carefully towards the entrance of the bar, using the commotion of the gunfight for cover. He eventually made his way inside, where he was greeted with a bullet-riddled bar. Glasses were smashed, chairs were overturned, and the smell of gunpowder was in the air.
“Scar!” he shouted. “Where the fuck are you?”
No response.
“I know you’re here, coward! Come out and fight!”
Still, no response.
Xander continued on, broken glass crunching under his feet. Then, he heard the sound of movement from the other side of the bar. Before he could turn his attention fully, however, a shot rang out, followed by the feeling of heat in his shoulder. A burning like Xander had never before experienced rushed through his upper body, and he knew right away that he’d been shot.
“Fuck!” he shouted, his voice filling the bar.
Then, he dove behind a nearby overturned table as more shots rang out.
“Scar!” he yelled. “You fucking pussy, shooting me from the dark!”
“We’ll see who’s still standing at the end of this, you fuck!” shouted Scar from the other side of the room. “Pussy or not, I’m surviving this thing!”
“Bullshit,” said Xander. “Your fuckin’ boys are dropping like flies; any one of them who’s got some sense has surrendered by now. And it’s not too late for you, dipshit though you may be. Give up, and you’ll walk out of here with your life.”
Silence filled the air, broken only by the occasional pop of gunfire from outside.
“You know what?” said Scar. “You’re right. This is fucking stupid. I give up.”
Xander listened carefully for a moment, as if wanting to make sure he’d heard Scar right.
“Good call,” said Xander. “Now, stand up where you are.”
Xander heard movement on the other side of the bar. Once it stopped, Xander rose from his cover, his arm screaming in pain as he did. Sure enough, about fifty paces away stood Scar, his gun still in his hand.
“Now,” said Xander. “Just drop the gun and we’ll be done here.”
Scar nodded. “Only if you promise you won’t kill me.”
“Fine,” said Xander. “I promise. Just drop the gun.”
“You mean this gun here?” said Scar.
With a quick motion, Scar raised the gun and fired. The shot went wide, but only barely, a shot ringing out from only a foot or so away from where Xander stood. Xander responded by raising his own gun and taking a shot. The bullet hit home, and Scar’s expression turned from a sneering arrogance to a slack-jawed look of shock, a black bullet hole between his wide eyes. He stood like that for a brief moment before dropping into a heap on the floor.
It’s fucking over, thought Xander, shoving his pistol into the back of his waistband. The gunfire outside had subsided, and Xander could sense that the fight was over. Stepping out through the front door, the eyes of the men fell onto him. Grayson emerged from the group of Shadow Hunters and looked Xander over.
“It’s done?” asked Xander.
“It’s done,” said Grayson. “And you look like shit, my man.”
“It’s nothing,” said Xander. “We need to get our wounded boys out of here.”
Grayson opened his mouth to speak, but must’ve realized that there was no talking Xander out of this.
“Fine,” he said. “No losses on our side, but Diesel’s got a nasty stab to the leg and Roadie’s taken a round to the hand. And we got plenty of surrendered Spawn who need some rides to the hospital.”
“On it,” said Xander.
“And once you get to the hospital, no coming back until that wound’s looked at.”
“Deal.”
Grayson gave Xander an approving pat on the unwounded shoulder and headed off. But before Xander could get to work, a familiar voice called out to him.
“Daddy!”
Xander froze in place for a moment, taking in what he’d just heard.
Daddy, thought Xander.
Then, a small pair of arms wrapped around his legs. Looking down, he saw Jack attached to him like a magnet.
“There’s my man!” he shouted, mussing his boy’s hair.
“Couldn’t just leave you behind,” said Daphne. “Holy shit; you’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing,” he said. “Just a superficial injury.”
“In that case,” said Daphne, “get your ass over here.”
A sly look on her face, she grabbed Xander’s hand and pulled him close. His son and his woman at his side, Xander at that moment realized that there likely wasn’t a man on this earth happier than him.