Saved and Taken (3-Pack)
Read Saved and Taken (3-Pack) Online
Authors: Amy Kiss
Riding Dark
Amy Kiss
©2014
Amy Kiss
All rights reserved.
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Riding Dark
I wasn't sure what scared me more- the sight of smoke rising from the hood of my old ride or the hot, damp and completely empty brushland surrounding it. I had managed to pull off the shoulder of a county road, though which county I could not say. Technically, it must be Alabama, but I looked at the muggy land stretching all around and wondered if I had somehow wound up in Louisiana. A bit far off, I could see a patch of trees, but that was it as far as features. No farms, no shacks, nothing human round but the road markers. If I could be grateful for one thing, at least the smoke kept the mosquitoes away. I had on capris and a tank top so there was plenty of skin for them otherwise. Course the smoke also served as a signal for human predators, which I was way more terrified of facing.
I opened the hood of my car and peered in at the incomprehensible tubes of metal, half wishing I could climb in and just hide there. I'd spent my whole life in Atlanta, and most of my time out of it was in Baltimore or New York visiting cousins. My family wasn't big on the outdoors, what with the searing heat and the bugs, and, oh yeah, the racists. That's what I knew about land like this.
Leave civilization and the civilization leaves the man,” my daddy said. Some folks hadn't yet got the news about desegregation. Course, I'd been through college and all and met some fine people who'd come out of the backwoods, some of them even black folk who managed to have survived out here. But their stories weren't always the happiest. Didn't make me feel great right now looking down at my chocolate skin.
If only I had a dick to make up for it. In fact, that was the biggest issue. Didn't think any girl would feel safe in a place like this. Didn't know what had compelled me to find my own way back to the highway after leaving it for gas and food. Or not go straight back after I realized I'd gotten lost and finally opened GPS. No I had to take the scenic route until I was far and away from the open road. Somewhere I thought I heard fast cars swish, but maybe that was just the wind. Or this was some old Civil War battle site and those were Confederate ghosts. Would be just my luck.
A car rumbled in the distance, and I slid my shades back on to look at it. It looked to be a large van. That seemed safe enough, maybe some plumber or heck even a mechanic. My car still worked in fits and bursts. All I needed was a little help getting to a shop I could trust.
The van grew into view though and I saw the back tapered off. This was a pickup. I stopped waving just a bit. Pickups and country sent a red alert off in my mind.
Either way, that truck whooshed right on by. Guy stared at me as he passed, as if he couldn't quite comprehend the situation. Or worse, maybe it was just that shocking to see someone like me out here.
No one came either way for a long while after that, and I felt a pit in my stomach, wondering what the hell I was going to do. My phone had a signal theoretically, but the last calls I’d made had cut before they connected. Maybe it wasn't so bad to just drive with a smoking engine, go bit by bit. There was a car shop on my map just a couple miles away, and maybe it was open and filled with nice people.
Thinking such happy things, it took me a while to hear the rumble filling the air. I looked out but couldn't see anything coming either way. The sound felt too loud though, the rev of the engine too deep, a military growl. Then I saw a speck roll up into view, then two more flanking it, and I realized with a sinking feeling.
Bikers.
I swung back under the hood, even as I told myself that most of them were ok. 99% were just guys who liked a rumble between their legs right? I could get that.
But that 1%. I don't think they liked people like me.
The choppers thundered down toward me. I used the hood like a shield, willing them just to pass and leave, though part of me hoped I was just being silly and these were the heart of gold types. I think that's what kept me from fully concealing my brown ass. Curiosity killed the kitty and all.
At first the three bikers rumbled past. I hung deep in the hood, feeling relieved and sad in equal parts. That is, until the bone shaking rumble started to quiet. I tried to play still in between the radiator as if they were dinosaurs who couldn't see, but the engines went out altogether, and from not too far away, a voice called out. "Hey, y'all ok?"
I blew out steam of my own, and scolded myself for being so dumb. Of course they were decent. Most people were. I pulled out and turned.
"Actually, I could-"
The rest of the words fell off my lips.
The three men before me were dressed identical, almost in uniform. If any uniform involved shredded jeans, jack boots and leather vests. Underneath those vests on their tan orange skin, was ink. Ink that drew out Deathhead skulls, Swastikas and looping 88s, all across bulging mounds of muscle.
These weren't just 1%ers. They were neo-nazis. If my wits hadn’t fled for the hills, I might have mentioned that even Hitler shook Jesse Owen's hand in the 1936 Olympics. Probably wouldn't have made much of a point.
"Well, sheeit," one of them said. He was squat and built like a bear. His brown hair hung down unkempt, some of it branched off and curved around his face to frame him with a beard and mustache.
"I'll be damned," said one of the others who looked like his leaner blond twin. "Didn't think one of em would dare come back to Jackson."
One of them. It was like I was wildlife.
The first guy sauntered forward. He had on something between shock and disgust and the sheer sight of that look coming towards me spurred me to action.
"Just stay back," I said. "Just leave me alone."
The look turned to a sneer. "Why, what you got in there?"
The other was circling further around us like a shark. "Damn, Earl, car's filled with shit. "
"Oh, yeah? You steal all that?" He walked up and I could smell the stench of beer and smoke behind his yellowed teeth.
"That's my stuff," I said, trying to sound menacing. "Just leave me and go. I don't need any help."
"Help?' The ugly mouth spread into an even uglier grin. "You hear that Jimmy. She thinks we're good Samaritans."
The blond barked out laughter and slapped my trunk. I couldn't watch both of them. I didn't want to see either. I wanted to see anyone, just anyone coming up that road. Couldn't be worse than this, but the only other thing in this god forsaken swampland was the third nazi, who perched back straddling his chopper. He was younger and taller than these two, long and packed with lean muscle. He watched us through lean blue eyes like some sort of tall hawk. I shivered. This guy was much more dangerous than these two asshats.
"Hey open this up. Show me what you got back in here." The blonde one was yanking on my trunk.
"That's my stuff," I snapped back at him, then did my best to glower at the ugly in my face. "I didn't steal anything."
"Bullshit," the guy called Earl growled. "I know how you darkies operate. We used to have a ton of your kind up in Jackson. Even after we drove em out, they used to show up at old Jim's convenience store some night and take off with half his merchandise. Was bad for awhile, but we stomped it out."
He had emphasized the stomped. His face stretched to another grin. I’m not sure how I didn’t pee myself.
"Well, I didn't steal anything,"
"To hell you didn't." He thrust his face at me. "Show me receipts then."
"The fuck, Earl?" A new voice boomed out and it shocked Earl as much as me. I looked past at the lanky young biker, as he added. "We already got plenty of stolen shit, right here. We gotta move it."
"The fuck you telling her that for, you dumbass?" Earl jabbed a finger from him. "That shit's illegal anyway. This spear chucker here's been robbing decent folk of stuff they need."
"I'm not from around here. I'm from Atlanta. And I'm about to call the police."
I held up my phone, which was a stupid thing to do, but all that happened was him laughing.
"Atlanta huh. Yeah place is infested with you lot. But there ain't no 911 around her, sweetie. It'll go straight to our local dispatch, and Sheriff’s a proud white brother. He ain't going to help no darkie over us."
"He ain't gonna help us neither," the guy on the bike piped up.
"Shut the fuck up, Junior," the guy turned and yelled. I was glad to have him out of my face but he returned looking even more angry.
"So Atlanta, huh?" Came a voice from the other side. Jimmy had come around full circle and he was looking at me, but not my face. I felt my skin clam up as if his eyes could cast slime. "Yeah you must be one of those high class hos that fuck rappers and ball players."
His voices came out soft and silky, far more dangerous than Earl's barking. I didn't like it one bit.
"Yeah we’ll give you a little lift sweetie," he said. "We get you a ride out of here, how bout you give us a ride?"
Earl snapped to him then looked at me, sorta dumb. He did that same greasy assessment that Jimmy had done. I wanted to run, but I was cornered between them and the car. Which was probably for the best, cause that would have just pissed them off.”
"Yeah, you probably stole that shit from other niggers. We'll help you get it out of town, just help us out."
The wild animal looks had dulled, and I could see lust simmering off them in waves as bad as their odors.
"Hey, get back here." I looked past at my unlikely savior, whose frowning face was aimed at his biking brothers. Maybe it was the animal instincts flaring in me, but I couldn't help but think he looked beautiful in his anger, his face long and all sharp edges, just cheekbones and jawlines.
"You'll get your turn," Earl said. A hand landed on my hip and I shoved it off. He let me. This time.
"What you doing mixing your blood with a lower race?" Junior shouted.
So much for being on my side.
"I ain't mixing blood, dumbass," he said. "Just taking her for a spin. These monkeys fuck like animals. Just bent over ass and tits, hanging out. You seen them travel magazines?" He licked his lips, and I shivered, tried to dial for the cops anyway.
Earl slapped my hand down. "Later sweetheart. Give old Earl a chance to help you."
"Aw fuck you, Earl," Jimmy said. "I called it."
"Like hell you did."
"We gotta go, yo," Junior said. "We running hot here. They gonna be looking for us."
"They don't know it's us." Jimmy leaned back on my busted hood.
I met Junior's cold blue eyes and saw them widen. His mouth moved, and he looked from side to side. He was looking for something to say, anything. Whatever the reason, he was trying to keep me whole.
"We're out in the fucking open," he said.
Earl looked around, realizing the road, and nodded. "Good point."
He grabbed me around the waist and began dragging me around the car. I dug my claws into his skin, but it was like leather. He slapped me across the cheek and pulled me past Jimmy, who gave me another sneer.
This could not be happening. I had a good job waiting for me in New York. I was a college graduate. I didn't even do any drugs. I couldn't be about to be raped by nazis.
Earl threw me hard onto the asphalt. I scrabbled back, feeling the world slowing around me and becoming high detail.. Earl’s hands moved to his jeans, and unworked the buttons. Jimmy watched us silently.
I wanted to look anywhere but at those two. The empty wash of land just made me more desolate, though. I looked back in time to see Earl undoing his jean button. It shone like the light of an oncoming train.
My eyes saw motion beyond Jimmy. Junior was coming up behind him, in a slow deliberate pace, even for my already slowed vision. He laid an arm around Jimmy. Jimmy turned, but then suddenly, Junior was pincering his neck, reaching across to meet his breath. Jimmy's eyes popped open and he struggled, but he seemed to have no breath already. His eyes lolled.
Earl's zipper ripped down his jeans in front of me, just as Jimmy went down behind. Junior started creeping forward, but Earl was already moving into me, pulling out a large thick slab of meat, which seemed to stink even far away. I sat stunned as both men came my way..
A branch crunched. Earl turned around and his eyebrows furrowed at the sight of Junior, but then they popped right back up, as he noticed Jimmy's sleeping form on the side of the road. Junior jumped at him. but Earl had turned and they wound up locked.
They swayed back and forth like dancing partners, grunting and swearing. I watched like I was at a ballet, then some part of my brain told me that this might be a good chance for me to get away. I started edging around the back of my car, when I heard what sounded like the first grunt of a vomit. I peeked back and saw Junior drive another vicious knee into Earl and drop on him.
Earl's eyes flitted with pain, but Junior laid on him even harder. It looked like he’d be out soon, but then Earl whipped to his pocket and came back out with a gun.