Hard Rider

Another hit like that, or WORSE…

His hands came down around my throat, and he put his weight into closing my windpipe. I held panic back as he grinned toothily, snarling with anger as he choked the life from my body.

I tried pushing back on his face, even grabbing his own throat, but his meaty arms were positioned so that I couldn’t reach it.

Everything started going dark…

Until my hand brushed the metal plate.

I brought it up against the side of his head, slamming the thin bit against his temple. It hurt my hand to strike him so hard, but Mark released his grip and clattered to the ground beside me.

While he tried to stagger to his feet, I clamored hazily to my own, taking a few deep breaths, and jumped on his rising form from behind.

My arms didn’t have anything on his, but they still wrapped around his neck just as good. With my forearm held to his throat, I slowly choked him out as he stumbled around, trying to pull me free.

His meaty arms couldn’t bend far enough to reach me. He could barely get a decent grab at my clothes, and I’d always shake free while clinging to his back.

Mark finally got to his feet, groaning and sputtering away, and slammed my back against the metal wall. I shuddered with the pain as I almost lost my grip, but held on tight.

He did it again, weaker this time, although I still almost lost my latch around his throat.

His head started to roll, and I knew I had him. That was until he pushed over backwards…

I barely moved my head out of the way before it was crushed against the concrete floor. I still banged it hard enough to see stars, and I completely lost my grip.

Dammit, I groaned.

He’s won.

There’s no way I can fight him now…

But Mark didn’t move, his lumbering form keeping me pinned beneath him. But now, he was facing upwards, his back holding me down to the ground, arms spread wide.

It took a moment to realize this, and a little longer to figure out that I couldn’t easily move him off of me.

His crushing pressure was crushing my chest, and I could barely breath beneath him. Even out cold, he’s gonna choke me out…

I barely got my palms in place beneath him. Throwing everything I could into it, I managed to slightly shift him over a couple of inches. Delicious air quickly filled my lungs, and I gasped with desperate victory.

After a brief moment of pushing and shimmying, I was finally able to slowly pull myself free from Mark’s heavy, oafish body.

The fucker was already starting to move again, letting a groan escape from his lips as I kicked him hard upside the head a few times. That seemed to put him out again, but I was still locked in this damn room. More importantly, he still had the keys on him… A moment of searching his pockets, and I found my prize. Fumbling in the dark, I found the right key, unlocking my way to victory.

I closed the door behind myself and moved to lock it when I heard activity. Quickly darting behind a nearby crate, I waited for a biker to stumble past, the smell of fresh liquor on his breath.

He stopped on the other side of the door, holding himself up against the wall. When it was obvious that he wasn’t moving, I glanced around the other side of the crate, finally getting an idea of where I was.

The dim lights along the ceiling revealed that I was in a hallway of some abandoned building, by the looks of it.

We hadn’t moved far from New Orleans. My sense of direction told me the van had taken the road west out of the city.

That meant that I was in Kenner, or maybe Metairie. The sound of a passenger airliner filtered through the thin metal ceiling as I took a moment to catch my breath and take stock of my surroundings. Kenner was where they put the international airport for the city.

We had to be close to it.

With this drunken asshole nearby, I decided to keep my head back in the game. If I was gonna break out, I’d need to be sharp…

I knew I wasn’t far from the exit. They’d gone whole hog and slipped a black bag over my head for the entire little ride here, but we hadn’t walked far once we arrived. A couple doors, maybe one big room, and I’d be out.

Realizing I couldn’t get close enough to lock Mark in, I gave up on that line of thinking and snuck away past a few more crates. It was my hope to slink out of the hallway and see what was what…

But when I made it to a doorway, I realized that this wasn’t going to be easy.

A quick glimpse of the large room took mystery out of the equation – we were in some kind of abandoned train station. I could see the tracks stretching into the room, with huge shutters down on the other side. Crates, supplies, and forgotten mounds of junk scattered all over.

But that was secondary to the men.

If what Mark had told me about his gang was true, then the entire Bayou Boys motorcycle club was here. At least a dozen men were scattered around, excluding the sick guy back in the hallway and Mark himself.

And then I saw their boss.

Mark had told me about Gridlock, bragging about this shit like he usually did. Flanked by a man on either side, he was a shorter, older bastard with thin, light hair, a heavy leather jacket with dangling chains, and a cigar jammed in his mouth.

I didn’t know much about him besides his looks, how “great” he apparently was, and the fact that he was stupid enough to take Mark and the Crew into his ranks.

So, he couldn’t be all that smart.

But something told me that being caught slinking around on my way out the door wouldn’t work out too well for me…

When backs were turned, I slipped around behind a few nearby boxes quietly. As silently as possible, I lifted a misplaced crowbar from atop a box. At least I had a weapon now, although I had no chance of making a break for it.

I had to think this through – I couldn’t even see the exit yet, although I suspected that it was on the other side of the scattered men, over near the front.

I heard a small scrape nearby, just as I was deciding on a plan of action…

That’s when everything went black.

Grizz

The old tricks weren’t going to work here, and I knew that when I started planning my rescue mission. I’d been blind to the truth, stupidly following old habits.

When I took emotion out of the equation, I remembered the way to get in, get out, and get away was to put my quick thinking and special skills to use. Hunter didn’t call on me to handle delicate matters for nothing.

My usual trick was diplomacy, but I already knew better than to even bother with that card. So, I played another one.

A military extraction.

Cold. Clean. Efficient.

Superior firepower and surprise might work for Hunter and the rest of us when we had to mobilize against one of the real bad guys, but I needed to play things smart if I was going to fly solo.

Riding out to the meeting spot with a plan, I came prepared to knock skulls on my terms.

Given the age of the building, it was easy enough to find what I was looking for. With a pocket flashlight gripped between my teeth, I threw open the panel box, yanked fuses, and disabled the power.

The entire building quickly went dark.

And that’s all that I needed…

I could already hear the commotion as I walked confidently around to the front, pulling the night vision monocle down over my eye. A dim green view of my surroundings poured in as I checked the bandana stretched tightly over my face. It wasn’t much protection, but it would have to do.

Thank you, John… I thought to myself. I’d owe that man a beer when this was all over.

Everyone inside sounded like they were panicking. I took advantage of the chaos by letting myself in right through the front, slamming the door shut behind me.

Hand against my vest, I ducked to the side before their instincts kicked in. I unpinned my secret weapon, ready for action.

Rattled and armed, they fired a few shots at the door, hitting

only weak metal walls.

All that did was give cover to the sound of my movements.

My night vision gave me a clear view of the bikers.

Not a drop of blood spilled.

Not a single corpse was going to hit the floor.

Nobody had to die today.

A smile faintly crossed my lips as lifted my secret weapon. I pulled the red ring free and pulled the trigger, a thick blast of spray pouring forth into the confined space.

“What the fuck,” someone shouted before firing off another handful of rounds in my general direction. “I can’t breathe! I can’t fucking breathe!”

Now the whole place was in chaos. Screaming and shouts and gagging coughs filled the air as everyone scrambled toward the walls looking for an exit. John wasn’t kidding around about this shit. My own lungs were burning almost as soon as I’d pulled the trigger. I couldn’t even imagine the hell I’d just unleashed on someone hit in the face with this shit. One biker was rolling around clawing at himself trying to wipe it off while vomiting on the floor.

But they’d live.

I was just eager to find my woman and get the hell out of dodge.

This was the way to go. No letting my bloodlust for revenge get the best of me. None of this typical Devil’s Dragons, both guns blazing bullshit.