Play Dirty: Devil's Mustangs MC (20 page)

CAL

The rumble, the noise, the sound of shouts and screams – it all hits me instantly as I pull up my cycle to the action. I’m about thirty feet back from the frontline where the boys wearing Mustang jackets are ducking behind bushes and trees, discarded truck tires and shot out cars. Weren’t we just here weeks ago at the other side of the broken glass windows?

I can’t flashback right now. I need to focus. We get the job started, go on to round two, and get to the final stage before it is too late. While Jager yells his commands, I try to see the Addison Bell in him. Second in command, he’s still the guy who makes the main call for the Coyotes. And, by all accounts from Red Dog’s intel, he’s the one holding Maddie, Michelle, and Erin right now.

What is he thinking? What are his plans? The first rule in a motorcycle war is to know your enemy. And I just have to hope and pray that Ace’s instincts that he will send more men out to fight us off is the right call. That, or we may not survive this first battle to make it on to the warehouse round.

“Cal! Tell the armory car to send in more bullets. The men outside the alley are going to need it. They’re seeing reinforcements coming in.”

“So,” I shout loudly toward him as he stares out in the distance using a pair of beat up binoculars. “It’s working? If they’re sending in men, Addison knows our plan and is dispensing troops away from the warehouse and the repair shop.”

Jager looks at me impatiently, “Yeah. I guess so.” He motions toward the phone in my hand, “Call the damn armory truck now before I send you out of here! I can’t have you slacking because you’re too invested.”

I obey my orders, quickly dialing the number and then dishing out the commands. The last thing I want to do is be sent home to wait for word about Maddie and Michelle’s wellbeing. I need to be here. I need to fight for both of them. No one could do that like me. I just needed to get in there to get off that nervous, impulsive steam.

As I press end on my phone call, I turn back to my leader, “I’m gonna go down and reinforce the alley team, Jager.”

“Like hell you’re not! We’re out of here in fifteen minutes. That’s not enough time to get your ass back here without it being covered in bullet holes. Just be patient, Cal.”

“I can make it. I’m not going to let those guys go down around me for my cause without me putting my life on the line. You know they need me, so just let me go hold the line and survey what’s happening. I can move some guys around, make a few plays. And I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.” I’m pleading with him now, hoping he’ll hear my need to just have some bite of that action.

He doesn’t look back at me as he hands me the pistol in the black and brown leather holster tied tight around his waist. “You better be back on time and in one piece or you’re not going to that warehouse. Do you understand me?” I nod quickly as he adds, “Report back to me and let me know what’s going on. I want a tally.”

I walk away, down the small hill next to the abandoned convenience store towards where we parked our bikes. The streets are empty, completely devoid of anyone foolish enough to step foot outside their house. When you live next to biker gang headquarters, it’s just part of the drill. At first gunfire, you close your blinds, lock your door, and turn the television up for your kids.

I weave in and out of the alleyways leading towards the central attack area. The smell of smoke and powder tells me I’m getting close. As I slow down, bringing my bike to a gentle purr, I spot a man leaning against the garage. He’s younger, probably under the age of thirty. He clutches his waist underneath his jacket as he stares down at his blood soaked arm. I park my bike and run up to him, taking note that he’s one of us: the good guys.

He knows my face, meekly calling out to me, “Cal? Cal? Can you help me?” I kneel down to him, examining his injuries. His face is bruised, the black and blue mixing in with his dark brown beard. “I’ve been shived. Those bastards cut me with a switchblade when we tried to get through the alley.”

I twist the knot holding the bandana wrapped around my throat free and reach under his jacket to push it flush against the bleeding, hot wound. “How many more Mustangs did they get? Is anyone else down over here?” I scan the area, trying to spot anyone else I’ll need to rescue.

“No, just me. I was the first one in. Had to be the guinea pig, right?” He laughs as a spot of blood trickles down his pale pink lips. “But I’m going to be okay, right? I mean, it’s just a little wound. I’ve seen guys with worse.”

I look back down at him, his hands shaking as he takes over holding on to the bandana for me. In that moment, I have no idea how to answer his question. I’ve seen worse, sure. Lots of men get knifed in battles like this when there aren’t enough guns to go around. But I’ve also seen men die from little cuts and scrapes I wouldn’t have paid attention to.

Suddenly, I realize that the “tally” Jager wants me to take is not of the Coyotes marching in on our position, the men remaining, or the number of weapons lost. The “tally” is the number of guys out there fighting in the name of Maddie and my family – young guys like this one clutching to the idea that he was going to get out of here.

I stare into his fading eyes and make him a promise, “I don’t know, kid. But I swear to you I’m going to get you out of here and to the doc. You hear me?”

He begins to smile weakly, but he is cut off. His eyes widen as he lifts a hand. I turn in time to see man leap on top of me, pushing me down into the ground on the side of the injured Mustang. The attacker screams as he punches me in the face, landing blow after blow into my temple and cheek. I manage to wrap my legs around him to pull him down with me. I can end this right now, but the gun Jager gave me is gone. And both him and I notice that it’s fallen next to me at the same time, each of our hands racing to grab it first.

Neither of us make it. The Mustang is there before I have a chance. He fires it off quickly as it hits the attacker in the thigh. He lets out a blood-curdling yell as the Mustang drops the gun to the ground and looks back at me completely satisfied.

In the distance, I hear more noise coming from behind one of the nearby homes. And I’m not about to risk finding out if it is friendly or not. I grab the Mustang, pulling him to his feet, and throw him on the back of my bike. He clings on to me as I spin the bike around and speed off towards where Jager was stationed. I pull up to the armory truck just a few blocks away and two men run off to gather him as he collapses into his arms.

I look down at my phone, now covered in the bright red blood of another man. I’ve only got two minutes to get back to Jager and report in. I wave towards the Mustang who saved my life, thanking him once more before getting on the bike and driving on. Jager is waiting for me, his bike running next to him. Ace and Red Dog are already moving on, followed by the leaders of the second group.

“What was the tally, Cal? How are the lines?” Jager looks at me as I toss him his gun back.

“I didn’t get there. But there’s a kid in the med truck with info this team’s going to need. Let the crew know they need to talk to him before they make another play.”

Jager looks at me with reverence, understanding that what I saw wasn’t just regular fighting. I was coming back from the heart of the battle, and I was ready to move on. The second team, led by Red Dog, heads in the direction of the warehouse armed to the brim with guns and homemade Molotov cocktails ready to be fired. As we hit the intersection, I reach over the street and gave Red Dog my hand in thanks. What he is doing and has done for my girl and me are beyond my ability to show gratitude. But I still give him my hand and tell him I’ll see him back at the clubhouse later that night. “Maddie will want to hear all about it, you got that?”

“You take care of our girl,” He smiles at me widely before winking one dark eye, “And say hello to Michelle, too. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see your dank ass.” The light turns green and he lifts his arm to show the men following closely behind to head left.

Ace, Jager, and I head out in the opposite direction, back towards the highway. Jager leads the way as I follow in the back. The highway’s traffic opens up as we hit the exit for the repair shop, each of us slowing down to lower the sounds of our engines. Jager finds a spot for us to park our bikes just a few doors down from the repair shop’s burnt out rubble. It’s the perfect position to spy what’s going on as we creep down through open yards towards the back of the shop where we are less likely to be spotted.

The three of us kneel behind a bush and take our turns peeking out with the binoculars towards the few bits of the building that remain. Ace spots it first, “Look to your left.” He points as both of us pop our heads above the hidden spot. “I can see the opening in the floor where the underground repair area would be. It’s under that large vent. Even in the fire, that spot would have remained intact.”

Jager asks as he takes the binoculars back, “Are you sure? Where would Addison Bell and the rest of them be, then?”

I look out again, my eyes squinting to see detail, clues, hints, anything. And then, I spot it. A car, not burnt or charred from my fire, is parked just out of clear view near a side entrance of the brick building. Jager sends Ace in for a closer look and we watch with our breaths held as he lowers himself to the ground and crawls through the tall grass towards the parking lot. He sits there, still as can be, for what feels like hours before turning back towards us, a hand in the air.

“That stupid fucking asshole,” Jager mutters under his breath, “get the fuck down.”

It’s too late. A shot rings out from the garage as we hear the scream of a young girl. I stand just in time to see Ace fall backwards into the tan colored grass. I yell out, “Maddie! Michelle!” as I race towards the garage, my gun in hand.

There’s a loud bang of glass falling and shattering, a call out in the dark. Michelle is screaming my name, but I can’t see her. But I keep running towards the battle. No one is going to stop me now.

MICHELLE

“What the hell is this?” The man sets Erin down on the stairwell and bends over to pick up the cuffs. He picks them up and examines the lock. The marks from Maddie’s hairpin trace the metal giving a clear picture of what just happened. He looks up at us, his flashlight illuminating his dark features, “What the fuck do you think you are doing?”

The man from upstairs, Addison, screams towards his guard, “What’s going on down there? I told you to grab the dead one and get upstairs, not fool around.”

The guard in our room looks at us, a slick, devilish grin forming around his lips, “You’re gonna wanna come down here, boss. The girls have something to show you.” He walks towards me slowly, and my heart races. Each step, I hunch down lower, grasping to the wall and pole for support. My mind goes completely blank. If this is going to be my last minute, I am going to sit here and think about the people I love and care for: Maddie, my parents, Erin, and Cal. All of my favorite moments replay in my head as I imagine what it will be like on the other side.

He grabs me by the hair and has me crouch down before him. “Let me see your cuffs too, lady.”

I reach my arms out slowly to him, praying he’ll see mine haven’t been tampered with and let us go. Maybe it’s just a fluke. Maybe Erin’s was just a bad lock or someone upstairs not getting the correct, working handcuffs. Either way, I can’t bear to look as he turns my hands over and back.

He clears his throat as he says, “Well, well, well. It looks like we—"

There’s a loud bang that vibrates over my head and I feel myself falling fast towards the ground. A weight is next to me, holding me down in place as I catch myself with the strength of my bare shoulder. I open my eyes in complete shock, expecting to see heaven around me, or at least a gun pointed at my head.

But there’s only Maddie and a large, rotted wood plank. She’s holding it high over her head with both hands around the ends as if she’s ready to strike again. She shouts at me, “Move, Miss Springer!”

I roll to my side just in time as the guard attempts to stand back up. Maddie, again, nails him directly on the head with the board, causing him to collapse in a heap, his arms and legs sprawled out like a star on the ground. I see a large pool off blood forming behind his head, and I instantly back away from the puddle seeping slowly towards me.

Maddie runs towards me, hugging me tightly. I kiss her forehead and thank her over and over again in a soft whisper. But the man above us’ voice is getting louder and footsteps are getting closer. He’s distracted, on the phone again. We listen as he says, “The warehouse is what? On fire! Fuck! Cal Ross and Jager Harris will never forget the day I take them down for this!”

I turn towards Maddie. “We have to go. We have to get out of here now.” She nods, shaking her head as her eyes dart around the darkened room as the man’s voice grows more and more hostile. “I need you to promise me something first, though, okay?”

“What? Anything. I’ll do anything,” she replies desperately.

“When I say ‘run,’ you run. You don’t look back. Not for me, not for Erin, not for your dad. You run as fast and as far as you can go and you don’t stop until you are safe.”

“But what about—”

“No, Maddie! You have to promise me that you understand what I am saying to you. You and your dad are the most important people in my life, and I am not about to let you or him die trying to get out of here. So I need you to be brave and listen to every single word I say.”

“Okay. Okay. Okay.” She is crying again as she pulls me in for a long hug around my neck. I push her back and brush away the tears from her stained and dirty face.

“Good girl. Now we have to find a way out of here – fast. I have an idea, but I need you to do something for me first. When I say ‘scream,’ you need to scream as loud as possible. It has to be louder than me breaking that window so the man upstairs doesn’t hear it and think we’re running.”

I walk quickly over towards the pole I was holding onto. It’s just heavy enough to break through the glass with a whack or two, I figure. Maddie’s screams should be enough to mask the muffled sound through the boards and make him think that his guard is doing his job.

“Ready? On three.” I turn to ask her, the pole in position in my hand like a large baseball bat. “One… two…three!”

She screams as loud as she can as I punch the pole into the glass. The blocks don’t shatter but move on their plaster. I kick at the soft spot, watching a few of the bricks fall to the ground. The sun blasts in, the mid-afternoon light shining the way for Maddie and me. Maddie turns to me, distracted from her job.

“What’s going on down there?” The man upstairs is alarmed by the Maddie’s sudden stop. She screams again, but he’s even more agitated now than before. “Theo? What the hell are you doing? Bring the fucking girl upstairs now so we can get this over with!”

Maddie is screaming for Erin, playing her part. I kick at the blocks one more time, freeing just enough space for Maddie and us to crawl through. I pull on her shoulder and whisper over her screams, “This is your time, Maddie. You’re going to get low and run far away from this place. Go! Now!”

She looks at me, wide-eyed and terrified. Her mouth is still open, still screaming her “Help”s and “No”s. And I know this isn’t going to be easy. I push her towards the window and pick her up from the waist. The motion motivates her as she climbs through the hole and begins to run.

Now I know my time is even more limited. I could run out with Maddie, but I can’t do that. I, instead, run towards Erin and lift her limp body up off of the ground. Her weight falls into me as I try not to stumble backwards. She stirs a bit, her head twisting back towards her shoulders and into me. I hear her whisper something. Maybe it’s “Help” or “Look.” But her lips are too dry, her voice too weak, and I don’t have time to try to make it out. All I can focus on is getting her to that window before the man upstairs comes for me next.

I pull her body up towards the window and then manage to hoist her a bit above my head. It’s just enough for me to hitch her upper half on the ground outside and then push her legs through. As I throw her last leg out, I hear the sound of the man rushing down the stairs in a loud clamor. He turns the corner and spots his man instantly.

He then turns to see me reaching to grab hold of something outside for support. But I’m coming up with twigs and dirt. I jump one more time, desperate for help. I scream out, but the man pulls me back down towards the ground, my head hitting the cement floor with a stinging bang. I’m paralyzed as I watch him look around the room for the other two. He screams out in a rage when he realizes his worst fears.

The man turns his attention back to me. His black hood pulled over his head paints shadows over his tan, withered face, but I can still make out the tattoos on his body as he lifts his fist towards me. I roll just out of miss and shoot my hand up, catching his chest as he tries to fall on top of me. With all of my might, I push him off as he tumbles into the body of his fellow Coyote.

I leap up, using the wall for support. The metal pole rolls towards me, and I have just seconds to pick it up before he comes running at me again. This time, he gets me by the waist, but my hand is free to smack his back with the metal rod as hard as I can. He stumbles back, taking me with him again as we freefall into the floor. My legs hitch around his as I land another hit to his head, this time managing to cut and bruise his eye. It shuts on itself almost instantly, blinding him.

I know this is my chance to run, and I don’t miss a beat. I take the pole and hurry back up towards the window. This time, I grab onto Erin’s leg and yank myself out. My body scrapes against the glass of the window, ripping into my outfit and skin. But I don’t scream or cry, I just move. All I can do is move, and I don’t have much time to do even that.

There’s a click and a loud shot. The man’s gun goes off, missing me by mere inches. My ears ring as I try not to panic. But he fires again; this time the bullet flies through the opening of the window, grazing my shoulder. I spring back from the force, falling towards Erin. I can feel the warm, red goo runs from my arm as I scream this time, hoping someone, anyone, will hear me.

“Get back here, you little bitch!” the man is calling as he fires off a third shot. Through the opening in the window, I see him spot me as he grins. Despite his bad eye, he knows he can hit either Erin or I with one, easily made shot. I stammer back, pulling Erin with me. My hands grasp onto the grass and ground, desperately trying to move out of the way of the window.

I hit something hard with my back and head, falling towards the side. The object vibrates as it screams out, “Don’t you fucking move, Addison! We’ve got this entire place surrounded.”

I look up behind me to see Cal and two men from the Mustangs standing completely still and strong on the lawn outside of what looks like a repair shop. Cal’s small black handgun is pointed into the window. I cry out towards him sobbing as he steps in front of me and uses his body to shield Erin and I.

He repeats his order towards Addison again, but he doesn’t budge. Cal shouts, “We’ve got your clubhouse, your warehouse, and now you. Mountain’s already surrendered. Are you going to let this go on so we have to kill you, or are you planning on coming out nice and quiet?”

There’s a long pause, neither man saying a word. I try not to even breathe. But then I hear the small clamor of a gun falling to the ground. The man next to Cal runs straight towards the window, his gun still held in the air. I watch as he pulls the man out and uses ties to bind his arms behind his back.

When the man is safely secured, Cal turns around, still on his knees. He looks at me, studying my body covered in dirt, blood, and cuts. But he doesn’t care. His hands move around the bruises of my face and head, gingerly touching each and every one of them. And then, his mouth barely open, he whispers, “You’re alive. You’re alive. You’re alive.”

I try to reply, but all I can exclaim softly is “Cal!”    

He pulls me into his arms, cradling me towards his chest as he leans down and kisses me. Every bit of pain and sorrow I am feeling melts away in one perfect moment when our lips meet. I’m here. He’s here. And we’re together. Finally together.