Before I could turn and find something else to do, Hunter spotted me. With a sly grin, he gestured for me to join them. As I reluctantly approached, Grizz whispered something in his ear before disappearing into the crowd.
“What was that all about?” I asked Hunter after coming into earshot.
The Devil’s Dragons president glanced over in the direction that his second-in-command had chosen, and shook his head.
“He’s just worried. He thinks that I should stay behind on this one.”
“Why’s that?” I replied, crossing my arms.
“He caught me awake,” Hunter replied simply. “Everyone else got some shut-eye, even the Dragons on our operation last night. Grizz got restless and he spotted me bent over those maps…”
“He thinks you’re going to be too tired?”
Hunter ran his hand through his hair. “Grizz is careful. He’s methodical.”
My expression soured. “Grizz has a point.”
“I know,” Hunter replied. “But tired or not, I have to ride…”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Look at us,” he indicated to the bikers as they wrapped up their work, suiting up for the coming fight. “Everyone is prepared to follow me into the fight. If I stayed behind, it would send the wrong message. There’s no turning back now… Can you feel it in the air?” He pointed upwards.
I shook my head. “Tension?”
“Anticipation,” Hunter corrected. “These men are hungry for a piece of the action. It’s not just about the money, either. Everybody wants to be the hero sometimes…”
I glanced over the dissipating crowd as it swept outside, snatching up weapons and patting each other on the backs on their way out.
They seemed… oddly jovial.
“You’ve noticed,” Hunter read the expression on my face. “You’ve seen how ready for this they are… how they almost don’t take it seriously.”
“Why is that?” I asked, turning my head to face him. “Why aren’t any of them scared? They could lose their lives. We could be riding into something a lot more dangerous than they think…”
“It isn’t often that the Outlaws are seriously put to the test,” Hunter observed.
I only hoped they were ready for the road ahead…
Hunter pulled my thoughts away before I could voice any concern. “We need to get going, Sarah. The men are assembled, the night awaits, and the time has come.”
Chapter 54
True to his word, Hunter led the charge… and he looked damn good doing it. The wind whipped at his leathers as the engine roared beneath us, rocking us towards our destiny.
With my arms tightly wrapped around his strong, rugged chest, I glanced over my shoulder and briefly studied our escort squad under the moonlight. Our improvised biker fleet, totaling members from five motorcycle clubs, was right behind us and kicking up an impressive storm of dust.
The dark cacophony of the rolling engines formed a symphony of bitter vengeance. With Hunter as their conductor, each biker in our merry band had their prospective instrument nearby: a pistol, a shotgun, a rifle, a knife…
I was still stunned that he had successfully mobilized such a force. Minus a traitor, about seventy motorcycles flanked us beneath the stars as we rocketed forward, all of us aligned to the same goals:
Find the girls.
Overthrow the cartel.
Instead of heading towards the farmhouse, we were flying the opposite direction. The collective beam of headlights rolled around us, several bikers unable to resist a couple of burn outs or firing a few weapons into the sky.
Hunter had warned them upfront:
Get your fun out of the way now.
Once we reach the fence, we’re all business.
He’d known that they needed to get a little adrenaline out of their systems first, ramping themselves into the mindset of attacking a nearby sex-trafficking cartel.
After all, he was a good leader.
He knew what his men needed.
Hunter signaled back to the closest bikers, and they began to slow down. The decreased momentum trickled backwards through the biker armada. We were soon flying forwards from them, breaking away as a single motorcycle.
His voice shouted over the roar of the engine. “Hold on, Princess. It’s about to get bumpy…”
When he felt my grip tighten, Hunter leant into the handlebar, pushing us off the main road and onto the dirt trails. The bikers followed suit, matching our change in direction and roaring to keep up.
We left the ground a few times over the bumps in the trail, cutting across the empty desert under the full moon. I could hear the hooting and hollering of some of the others as they did the same, sometimes hitting the acceleration to catch more airtime.
After twenty minutes of this, we cut off from the trail and started driving across open desert. Hunter navigated us across a strip of steady flatlands, avoiding the prickly flora as we rode out into what looked like pure nothingness.
Five minutes later, a small dot appeared on the horizon. It grew in size until I realized that it was a house – much smaller than the one that played host to our gunfight the night before.
It also looked ramshackle and abandoned, barely jutting out into the sky. I imagined that even on a clear day, it would be incredibly easy to miss if you were sticking to the roads and trails.
Hunter double-tapped his brakes, signaling to the others to begin slowing down. We pulled up in a cloud of scattered dust beside the house, and he killed his ignition and hopped off. I could see the border fence nearby as I shielded my face from the coming dust.
As he signaled out with a closed fist to our closest followers, I dismounted as well. I followed him to the torn-apart siding on the other side of the abandoned shack, where he turned on a flashlight.
The shack was ripped to shreds on the inside. Something had happened here, decimating the place. I was surprised that it was even still standing, no matter how isolated we were from the rest of the world.
“What are we doing here? Do we need something?” I asked him cautiously, following the beam of light as he scrutinized the interior.
His light beam shot downwards to the floor.
“We’re here for that,” he informed me.
That was a massive hole in the living room floor. It was a tunnel, digging downwards at a slope beneath the house.
“So when you said we were going under the border,” I murmured aloud.
“When I first enlisted with the Devil’s Dragons they were still running drugs. It was a huge operation, kept totally under wraps and beneath the noses of the law. Eduardo commissioned some people to excavate this little smuggling tunnel… It runs right under that fence, and straight out the other side.”
“Jesus,” I muttered. “This is how you guys flew down to attack the cartel before?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Since guiding the club away from drug-running, I’ve kept this avenue open just in case I ever needed it. Looks like that decision finally paid off…”
“I’ll say,” I nodded.
We walked back outside and climbed back atop his motorcycle. The bikers were sitting in silence around us, shelving their antics for the rest of our trip.
“Tunnel’s secure!” Hunter shouted. “Everyone, follow me!”
Every engine near us revved in anticipation as his motorcycle flared to life. I covered my ears briefly to keep my hearing intact, and heard a little chuckle from my chauffeur.
Always the charmer, Hunter flashed me a quick grin, and then we were off. We drove straight into the shack and roared down into the tunnel, followed by our fleet of armed bikers.
I clung to him as we shot forward in the dark, our way illuminated only by headlights. The sounds of the other engines rumbled down the tunnel around us, threatening to deafen us.
Hunter didn’t seem even remotely bothered by the ear-piercing sound. I found myself wondering how he managed to hold quiet conversations, given how unwavering he was when it came to deafen
ing engine roars.
It was exhilarating.
It was frightening.