Alex
The wind whips around me harshly. I have only one thought on my mind as I speed across the roads on my roaring bike: Find Zeva. I zip up and down streets, heading toward the outskirts. Jason, Wade, and I are each scanning areas we’re most familiar with and moving outward. We’re doing brief scans inside the main city; we know full well the Iron Legion isn’t stupid enough to camp out on our main territory. We know it all too well. Still, you can never be too careful.
I remember Jason met with one member out on the west side so I head in that direction. I scan the horizon constantly as I dodge around the occasional car. Honks and beeps from protesting drivers are entirely drowned out by my roaring engine. I grit my teeth and curse at the lack of success so far. I think back to the hospital and try to wrack my brain for any clues. Were there footsteps around her truck? No, fuck that, she didn’t even take her truck. She had one of our bikes, and there were no footsteps around it…it didn’t look like she had even made it that far. Unfamiliar bike tracks? Maybe, but it’s not like I know every bike in the city…
Suddenly I hear the roar of a bike not my own. More importantly, not one I recognize as Jason's or Wade’s, and it’s unlikely for any Order members to be this far out of the main town right now. I zoom toward the source of the sound and see a woman with what looks like an Iron Legion jacket from a distance. I reach behind me and pull a chain out from the seat bag. Lowering my eyes I move quickly toward the other bike.
As I pull toward the woman on the bike speeding away she glances back with a look of fear in her eyes. She glances down at the chain in my hand and tries to speed away. I follow her as close as I can manage, slowly gaining ground. Unfortunately for her, my bike is one of the most powerful around; a lot of personal time and effort has gone into this.
She dodges back and forth between cars and around random turns trying to shake me, but it’s no use. I’m also a much better driver than her. I pull to her left and corner her back tire with my own. I swing the chain connecting with the back wheel and catch perfectly. I let go of the chain and it immediately tangles up within her bike and she goes sliding across the road.
I pull up next to her wreckage and kick her bleeding form.
“Where the fuck is Zeva?” I ask calmly, with a fire behind my voice.
“The fuck is wrong with you, asshole?” she says, coughing.
I kick her square in the ribs bringing more coughing from her.
“Let me ask again. Where. Is. My. Girl?”
She just looks up and spits at me. I reach into my pocket and pull out brass knuckles and slip my fingers in deftly.
“Heh…I knew it was one of the big brass’s girls. Too bad she’s left with my partner huh? He gets hungry for girls if I leave him alone for too long.”
I swing into her back, connecting with her kidney. I don’t need her face swelling up to where she can’t talk. She yells out in pain, but keeps the quiet smirk on her face. I swing into her knee next, the crunch of bone guaranteeing she won’t walk for some time. Another scream, and another smirk.
My eyes grow cold. I stand up and walk over to her mangled mess of a bike and yank my chain out of the wheel. Surveying it, I confirm it'll still run for a little while, so I fasten the chain to the back and prop the bike up, revving up the engine and let it run and then prop it on a stand so the wheels spin freely. I bring the other end of the chain to her and begin to wrap it around her shoulders and neck, striking any part of her that tries to protest.
“Last time,” I say, knowing she gets the message.
“Holy fuck. Fine, you shit bag,” she says, fear growing in her eyes. “Warehouse. Edge of town. You’ll see my partner’s bike, now lemme go you fucking psycho!”
I say nothing and walk over to my bike. I look down at her in pity as I rev my engine, and then give her bike a kick before zooming off on my own. All I hear as I turn away is her bike riding off in the opposite direction.
I know the warehouse she’s talking about, so I head right there. Her info was right too; there’s another unfamiliar bike right outside. I ready my Desert Eagle and briefly survey the outside. Its punch has never let me down in a pinch situation. The outside seems clear, and there’s no signs of other bikes. Just to be safe I yank the brake cord on the one waiting outside before approaching the door.
I hear a scream so I kick the door open with force and see Zeva on the ground with a man on top of her. I fire a shot straight into his arm and the force of the weapon sends him back from on top of her. I holster it and replace my brass knuckles; this is very, VERY personal. I make short, gritty work of the man in question with no words shared. The message between us was clear: he messed with the wrong people and he won’t do it again.
I pull off Zeva’s restraints and hold her tight.
“Are you okay?” I say as I embrace her.
“Yeah…just a few scratches. Thanks, Alex. The rest are probably on their way, we should go,” she says.
“Not likely they’ll be here for a while, at least, but yeah. Let’s head out. There’s a motel near enough but out of the way, let’s catch our breath there,” I say looking down at her. There’s barely an ounce of fear about her, even in a situation like this.
Zeva … I’m impressed.