Kick and Devil had taken point, which gave me some breathing space. Silver Hell members fanned out across the highway about fifteen to twenty metres in front of us. I stepped out from behind the van, took aim at the closest member and squeezed the trigger. His attention had been on Kick, so he never saw the bullet coming.
As a Silver Hell member fired at me in retaliation, I ducked behind the van for shelter. Blow took over from his point at the front of the van, as was our practiced plan. I waited a few moments before sticking my head around the side to see what was happening. Kick was stationed on the ground behind his bike, narrowly avoiding bullets, as were two of our other members. Devil ran my way.
I moved back behind the van and reached inside for another rifle. Devil rounded the back of the van, and over the sound of gunfire, I yelled, “Anyone else taken a hit?”
He shook his head as he took the rifle from me. “No.”
We stepped out from behind the van together, rifles ready. I whistled loud, alerting our members to get down. They immediately ducked and we opened fire. Blow also fired from in front of the van while Kick and the boys continued shooting from their positions.
Devil and I had the best aim of any Storm member and soon half the Silver Hell members were down. As the gun battle waged on, I knew there was only one way this fight would be won. And so did they.
Kick made the first move, running from his bike towards Silver Hell. Devil and I covered him while also moving forward. Our other members followed suit and soon the battle plan changed. Knives and fists replaced guns as our weapons of choice and we engaged in a furious fight to the end.
The lonely stretch of highway was a silent battleground, but we filled that silence with the sounds of shattered bone and tortured grunts.
My face was a blood-coated sticky mess by the time we’d managed to shrink our enemy to two. Blow had been knocked unconscious, but not before he took out a Silver Hell member. Kick dragged him to the van before re-joining us. With Silver Hell losing so many members, I thought we had a good chance at making it out without losing any more of our men, but I was proven wrong.
“Kick!” Devil shouted, drawing my attention because of the horror-filled tone he used.
Time passed in slow motion as I watched Kick take a bullet to the chest. He didn’t go down straight away, but as soon as he did, my fighter instincts took over.
Without processing the consequences, I charged at the guy who shot Kick. Grunting low and deep, my body slammed into his and pushed him backwards. I didn’t stop moving until he was on his ass, at which point I bent over him and punched him hard in the face. I punched him straight on, so fucking hard that his skull hit the road with a loud thud.
Running on autopilot, I delivered bone-crushing punch after punch to his face. My hands were coated in blood and he’d stopped moving, but I continued slamming my fist into his face.
It felt good.
Satisfying.
My brai
n filtered out the sounds around me. My only focus was killing this motherfucker.
“Nitro! Fucking put a bullet in him and be done, brother,” Devil yelled out.
With one last punch, I straightened, wiping the sweat from my forehead, really only succeeding in replacing it with blood from my hand. As I did this, another gun sounded and I whipped around just in time to see Jerry, another of our members, go down. Bullet after bullet riddled his body and I knew he had no chance of surviving that.
“Motherfucker!” Devil cried out. Aiming his gun, he shot the guy who killed Jerry. At the same time, I pulled my gun out and fired at him, too. I then turned and pumped bullets into the asshole who shot Kick, ensuring he would never take another breath.
As I surveyed the scene in front of me, my breaths came hard and fast. Devil and I were the last men standing. Blow was unconscious in the van. Jerry and Kick lay dead on the road, and Cruise, our first member to take a bullet that day, was dead on the side of the road.
“Fuck!” I roared, meeting Devil’s eyes. “Fucking hell.” I could hardly catch my breath as adrenaline and anger raced in my veins.
Devil’s eyes were wild. Murderous. Clenching his jaw, he thundered, “They will fucking pay for this. I don’t care if it takes me the rest of my life, they will regret this day.”
We stood in the middle of the highway with bikes and bloody bodies strewn around us with the smell of death and destruction in our nostrils, and I vowed to go to hell with him. We would burn in the depths of hell to exact our revenge.
A grunt filled the silence around us as we promised retribution. My head whipped around to see who made the noise. It was Kick. His leg twitched as he gasped for air. Jesus, he was still breathing.
Devil and I moved fast, getting Kick into the van. I drove while Devil did what he could to keep Kick alive. On the way, I called King so he could organise a clean-up crew and the collection of our bikes. And I sent prayer after fucking prayer out that Kick survived this. Not that I believed in the power of prayer, but at that point I figured we needed as much help as we could get. I wasn’t sure Kick would make it.
18
Tatum
“Falling For You” by Lady Antebellum
The day passed slowly. Or maybe that was because my mind kept drifting to Nitro, and that then caused the ache between my legs to intensify, which in turn made me wonder when he’d be back. This all of course led to time dragging while I waited. Not even my work managed to consume me like it usually did.