Crap, crap, crap.
I raise the bat like I know how to use it. At least my first hit was vaguely convincing.
This time, though, when I swing, the cop bats it away easily. I bet that if he wasn't wearing a helmet, I'd hear him laughing at me. The way he raises his baton makes it clear he's not here to save me, though. Or at least he doesn't recognize me.
He swings and I close my eyes, knowing I've nowhere to go.
The baton never connects. At least a second passes—maybe two—before I dare open my eyes. King, his expression hidden by his mask, has the cop by the neck, lifted over the ground and his legs kicking. It's like watching Darth Vader holding someone up with the Force, except King's Force is his muscle. With a mighty throw, he flings the cop against the wall with a crash. The cop collapses and doesn't get back up.
King looks at me, then down at Hero. Oh crap, he doesn't think that it was me who—
Then he gives me a thumbs up before kneeling to check on him. After a bit of not so gentle cheek slapping, Hero comes to. He coughs a couple of times, and his golden hazel irises are surrounded by bright red.
I'm unfastening my mask before I have a chance to think about it. It comes loose and I put it right to his face. It probably won't do anything about what he's already inhaled, but maybe it'll keep it from getting worse while he recovers. The way the gas tears at my eyes and throat, I don't envy him being without for a moment.
He tries to push me off, but I won't have it. Not this time. I press it back at his face until he rolls away and throws it at my feet. “Take it,” he yells, and his voice is so raw it hurts me. I can't imagine what it's like for him. “I'm fine.”
Then he turns and throws himself back into the fray. Wild Child and King have made progress, or the cops are running out of backup, because the fight has moved a bit down the hall, away from my room again. Once I have the mask back on, this time I follow. I need to see what happens, and it's obvious I'm not any safer in here than I'd be out there.
When I come out into the common room, the guys form a wall around me, Hero in the middle and the other two flanking him. Hero picks up one of the closest cops and throws him towards the door, right into a guy trying to break in. Bear, Viking and several of the others have decided this is where the battle line goes, and for now we're at a standstill. Still, there are a lot of uniforms out in the courtyard.
Something on the roof clanks really loud. Are the cops coming in another way?
“Finally!” yells Eagle-eye. “About fucking time.”
There's a rumble that shakes the whole building, like there's an earthquake, but from the cheering of the guys, apparently this is something good.
Outside, two solid streams of water slice through the crowd, throwing them backwards towards the gate. They sweep back and forth like when our gardener washes our driveway, pushing the cops farther and farther back like they're nothing more than dead leaves. Even their riot shields don't help them here. They either run, or get knocked over.
With the sudden backup, the gang in here finds their second wind. It's not long before the clubhouse is clear of uniforms again, and the cops are on the run. And then, as suddenly as they came, they're gone. Black vehicles roar down the street in retreat and moments later, all that's left is their smoke screen floating away on the wind and the sound of fans turned on to clear the air of tear gas.
I'm sure it was just the first battle, but at least this one was won.
Won. That sounds weird, because I shouldn't be thinking that. The bikers are my captors, and I'm not on their side. Or I shouldn't be.
Then again, Dad sent his cops in here without a freaking care. What did he tell them? “And if you see my daughter, make sure to kick her ass a little extra for me. I'll blame her bruises on the bikers.” It doesn't feel half wrong, the more I learn about him and all this. Do I even want to go back to him anymore?
Then again, Janey's no walk in the park either. I shudder.
Hero drops into a couch where he's rubbing frantically at his face. Now that the battle is over and the adrenaline kick wearing off, it's obvious he's suffering, but the guys haven't noticed yet, since they're so freaking busy cheering.