***
Outside the clubhouse, Blood stood by the open back gate smoking a cigarette and shooting the shit with Yammer. Over on a nearby picnic table Hammer sat talking with Tink, who was admiring her newly painted nails. It was a pretty sunny day, unusually cool for this time of year in Alabama.
Blood’s eyes moved to the end of the alley, which was actually just a dirt road that ran behind the clubhouse, cutting between two short side streets. The clubhouse took up most of the block, a vacant lot the other half. A junkyard butted up to the alley on the other side.
A dark panel van was pulling into the alley.
“You get much traffic comin’ down this alley,” Blood asked as he tossed his cigarette.
Yammer followed his eyes to the van. “Not much. Just the club.”
A moment later they were both diving to the ground as the side door of the van slid open and several assault rifles opened fire on the clubhouse.
As Blood rolled and pulled his Glock out, he saw Hammer flip the picnic table over to its side, shoving Tink behind it. Then Hammer was up over the top of it, returning fire. Blood scrambled to the fence and peeked around the open gate. He was able to fire off a couple of rounds into the van.
Then his heart dropped as he saw the end of what looked like a goddamn grenade launcher poke out the open door. It fired straight into one of the clubhouse windows.
Inside the clubhouse, Ghost, Jessie and Griz were at the bar laughing with Boo a moment before they heard the gunfire. Bullet holes began piercing the backside of the clubhouse that faced the alley.
Ghost grabbed the back of Jessie’s shirt and yanked her off her barstool, shoving her to the ground and covering her with his body. Then he, Jessie, and Griz all scrambled around behind the bar.
They all sat with their backs to it.
Boo hunched over and ran to a cabinet. A moment later he was tossing shotguns to both Griz and Ghost.
“That’s some high-powered rounds, bro. They’re gonna make Swiss cheese of this place,” Ghost observed.
“Let’s flip the pool table on its side. The slate will give us some protection,” Griz suggested.
“That thing’s gotta weigh over eight hundred pounds.”
“Boo, get over here,” Griz yelled.
The three men were able to flip it to its side. It crashed to the floor with a boom that shook the whole building, and Ghost was sure, cracked the foundation.
They all got down behind it.
Ghost pointed to the window on the left and pulled his 9mm and handed it to Jessie. “Keep watch on the side yard, can you do that?”
She nodded, taking the gun.
“Anything moves, shoot the shit out of it.”
“Got it.”
“Stay with her,” he ordered Boo.
“You got it.”
Ghost grabbed Jessie by the back of the neck, pulled her close and kissed her forehead. Then he was scrambling toward the back door with Griz.
Ghost got in position with his back to the wall under one of the windows, and Griz under the other. The walls were being punctured by rapid fire in a zigzag pattern over their heads. He saw Jessie pop her head up and look out her window.
“Stay the fuck down, Jess,” he yelled. She dropped back down. He looked over at Griz as he busted the pum
p on the 12-gauge, slamming it down and up with a ratcheting sound. “You ready?”
Griz nodded, and they both rose up to shoot.