Authors: Sandy Kline
Suddenly the Crusher lashes out with his foot and catches
Skull…my brother on the side of the head. Caleb reels backwards, trying to
catch his balance while Crusher charges forward following his kick with a
barrage of punches. In seconds the whole match has turned around again as my
brother is slammed up against the wire cage not five feet from where I’m
standing. It’s almost like the Crusher is hitting me and it makes me flinch and
blink every time he lands a punch on my brother. And here I thought this stuff
was fake like that WWE wrestling stuff. I open my eyes again just in time to
catch a splatter of blood across my face and eyes. I wipe my hand across my
mouth and I can actually taste the warm coppery blood of my little brother.
Suddenly I’m angry. How can that asshole stand there hurting my brother? I
forget about my notes and the story I’m supposed to be writing and I start
screaming my fool head off! Caleb may only be my half-brother, but he’s the
only brother I have. In seconds my throat begins to feel the effects of my
support of my brother. I’m pretty sure I’m going to lose my voice before this
thing is over.
Caleb drops to one knee and the Crusher’s face actually
lights up with glee. He can smell victory and he’s closing in to finish the
fight. Behind me I can’t hear a thing except for the Iron Skull chanting from
the Soul Eaters. They must have put a shitload of money on the fight.
Just when I think the fight is over my brother reaches
down deep and goes on the attack. He strikes with the ridge of his left hand
right between the Crusher’s legs. The impact in that all too tender region is
just enough to make the Crusher pause in surprise and that’s all my brother
needs. He launches up from a kneeling position and follows with a knee to the
Crusher’s crotch. The force is so great it actually picks the man up off his
feet. My brother is on his feet now and with his left hand he grabs the Crusher
by his long hair in the back of his head and yanks downward violently. His
opponent’s knees buckle as he goes down. As his opponent falls, Caleb hammers
the man’s face with his free hand until his nose explodes in a sheet of red!
The screams behind me are so loud now my eardrums are
vibrating and the sound is completely distorting. The Crusher is lying on his
back now and my brother follows up by dropping his knee into the man’s ribs
causing his head to pop up off the mat. Caleb fires off three punches in rapid
fire into the Crushers face just before the referee grabs him and pulls him
backwards! A second man, from the Crusher’s corner is there standing over his
fighter and waving a white towel. The fight is over!
The whole auditorium is in pandemonium. I’m screaming,
the press area is out of control, the bikers are chanting again, and every girl
in the place has my brother’s name on their lips. What a night!
A fight doctor is kneeling beside the Crusher feeling for
a pulse in the man’s neck. Suddenly the whole arena goes quiet when the man
shakes his head and initiates CPR. I can’t believe it. My brother just killed a
man right in front of me. My brother the computer geek is a killer. I can’t
wrap my head around that. Then as if it can’t get any weirder, right in the
middle of the doctors and paramedics attempts to save the Crusher’s life, three
leather clad bikers enter the Octagon. What the hell is going on? Are they
angry their fighter killed a guy? I can’t believe that. One of the three is
that really hot biker I saw earlier. I look up at him and feel my heart
pounding loudly in my chest. Really…that’s what’s going to get my blood
flowing? He’s a Soul Eater! Everyone knows they sell their soul to the devil to
get a patch. They have absolutely no morals and will do anything to turn a
profit. But damn he’s hot! He and the other two bikers approach my brother who
is watching the resuscitation efforts. Then I notice one of the guys has a
shiny new leather vest in his hands. Wait a second…this cannot be happening. As
my mouth drops open in shock the biker with the vest extends it to my little
brother. A huge wolfish smile breaks out across his face as he accepts it and
puts it on. Then the four are hugging and pounding each other on the back. My
little brother is now a Soul Eater. And I thought the night couldn’t get any
weirder.
As my brother and the three Soul Eaters leave the Octagon
the whole arena is talking in hushed whispers about the man who killed the
Crusher and became a Soul Eater right in front of their eyes. Everyone is
talking at once and the rumors are flying. The most prevalent one having
something to do with the ‘fact’ that you have to kill someone to get into the
Soul Eaters MC. It’s total bullshit I’m sure, but there’s not a person here
tonight that’s not gonna believe that.
“I knew it!” Says a voice behind me.
I turn around and it’s my best friend Molly. Her eyes are
shining and she’s about to launch into some crazy monologue about something she
probably knows nothing about.
“I knew it.” She says again.
“What?” I snap. How could she have known Caleb…Iron Skull
is my brother?
“I knew you had to kill someone to become a member.” She
states.
Oh that. “Yeah I guess the rumors are true.” I deadpan.
It’ll do no good to add fuel to the fire when it comes to Molly and rumors.
“You guess?” She challenges. “You saw it right in front
of your eyes. That dude killed the Crusher and the baddest of the bad boy
bikers the Soul Eaters rushed up on stage and made him a member right in the
middle of the paramedics trying to save the other guy’s life. They have balls.”
“He’s my brother.” I tell her.
“Those guys didn’t even wait until they took Crusher away
either they just…what? What the fuck did you just say?”
“He’s my brother.” I repeat.
“What?” She looks at me like I’m nuts. “Your brother is
the Crusher?”
“The other guy is my brother.” I correct her.
She gives me this look like she thinks I have totally
gone nuts.
“The guy they gave the vest to. He’s my brother Molly.”
“No way!” She shouts. “No freaking way. You said your
brother was this computer geek who was trying to invent a video game or
something.”
“I guess that didn’t work out.” I reply. “I haven’t seen
him in ten years and he just turns up here in the fight. As far as I knew he’d
never even ridden a motorcycle before and he sure as hell didn’t know how to
fight.”
“Wow…I guess he’s got some explaining to do, doesn’t he?”
“No shit! He’s making the biggest mistake of his life.”
“Well your chance for changing his mind is walking out
the door.” She replies and points back over my shoulder.
Caleb and a group of Soul Eaters are making their way out
of the arena. Fearing I am losing my only chance to knock some sense into him I
push my way through the crowd until I’m at the edge of the group of bikers. I
spot my brother and call out to him.
“Caleb!” I shout over the din. When I fail to get his
attention I shout even louder. “Caleb!”
When he doesn’t hear me I try to push my way through the
crowd after him but there are just too many people between us and they’re going
in the opposite direction.
“I don’t even have his number anymore.” I lament to my
best friend.
“Relax Kim; he’s a Soul Eater now. They’re all over the
place. You’ll see him on his Harley around town.”
“Harley? He doesn’t even own a motorcycle.”
She gives me this look like I have just said the dumbest
thing in the world and says, “Really?”
“Oh yeah…I guess having a bike is a prerequisite to
joining a biker club isn’t it?”
“Come on,” She says. “Let’s get out of here.”
I nod and follow her out of the arena. Because of the
death they have cancelled the last fight of the night. My head is literally
spinning as we spill out into the cool night air. I can’t believe I just
witnessed a guy being killed right in front of me, and what’s more
unbelievable…my little geeky brother is the guy who did it. I still cannot even
begin to wrap my mind around it. I need a drink, that’s what I need right now.
I tug on Molly’s sleeve. “You up for a drink?” I ask her.
“Sure, why not.”
“Great! There’s a new bar on Ocean Street that’s supposed
to be really good. It’s called the Lucky Pig.”
“Serious?”
I nod.
“Okay…Lucky Pig it is.”
Twenty minutes later we’re sidled up to the bar and
signaling a handsome barkeep. It takes me three stiff drinks to finally begin
to settle down. I don’t realize just how high strung I am until now.
“Slow down tiger,” Molly warns. “You don’t have to drink
me under the table tonight.”
“Fine…I’ll settle with drinking myself under the table
tonight then.”
An hour later and the room is spinning nicely. It’s been
good talking to Molly. We’re always so damn busy that we barely end up spending
time together. I’m beginning to think about going home when a sudden burst of
angry voices catches my attention. Over in a dimly lit corner, two Soul Eaters
seem to have taken offense with one of their own and they seem really angry.
While most patrons wisely avert their eyes I can’t help but snoop. I guess it’s
the reporter slash writer in me that makes it impossible for me to ignore what
is going down. Sensing this is going to be a story I take out my cell phone and
start to film.
Two of the Soul Eaters are standing at either side of the
third. Funny thing is, there is something odd about the middle guy. Sure he’s
got a cut on, but there’s just something about him that doesn’t feel right and
apparently the other two bikers feel the same way.
“What chapter you hail from?” The short stocky biker
asks.
“Lodi.” The odd biker responds.
“We don’t have a fucking chapter in Lodi asshole!” Says
the lanky one on the left.
“But…” The odd biker suddenly stops. “Look guys I didn’t
mean nothing by it.”
What the hell did that mean I wonder?
“You know what happens when a person tries to pass
himself off as a police officer?” The lanky biker asks. “Do you think they just
let him go with a stern warning?”
“No.”
“They go to jail.”
“Are you going to call the police?”
Both bikers actually laugh, but it’s not a jovial sound.
There’s something sinister about the sound.
“We don’t like involving the pigs in our business. We
like to take care of things ourselves.”
“We do our own policing.” Says the stocky biker.
Suddenly the odd guy turns and bolts for the door; bad
idea! Sadly for him the bikers are expecting this and in an instant they both
pounce. Right away they violently strip him of his bogus cut. While lanky biker
holds it up, stocky biker draws an ugly K-Bar knife and actually slices the
fake cut in half with two powerful strokes. My hands begin to shake. I’m pretty
sure stocky guy is going to use his knife on the fake biker, but instead he
puts it away. I’m just about to breathe a huge sigh of relief when he pulls a
smaller folding knife out of his pocket and opens it up.
He turns to his companion. “You got a folder on ya?” He
asks.
For an answer he pulls a similar knife from his pocket
and bares the blade. I can’t believe I am filming this.
“Put that thing away!” Molly hisses. “You’re gonna get us
killed!”
“Oh no….this is gonna make my career. No way in hell I’m
stopping.”
“Are you kidding me? You try to use this footage and the
police are going to be all over it and start asking you all kinds of questions
like, why didn’t you call us instead of watching and filming? You can’t-”
A horrible scream puts an immediate end to our argument.
The sound is so anguished, so shocking that I actually drop my phone from my
trembling fingers. I drop to my knees feeling around for my phone. All at once
my head is even with the faux biker and for one agonized instant we lock eyes.
Even at eight feet away I can see the terror reflected in his eyes. His pupils
are blown and another scream contorts his once handsome features. For that
instant he stops moving. Two seconds later my hand scoops up my still recording
phone and the man on the ground resumes thrashing wildly. His mangled right
hand is actually pinned to the floor by the stocky biker’s knife. The more he
jerks and screams the more the razor sharp blade destroys that appendage as it
tears through his soft flesh, tiny bones and tendons. Having recovered my phone
I scramble to my feet just as the lanky biker plunges his own knife into the
back of their poor victim’s left hand. The man lets out one long agonized howl
and goes limp. There’s so much blood on the floor by his hands at first I
wonder if he’s bled to death, but that couldn’t happen that quick. At least I
don’t think it can.
Both bikers clamber off the fallen man and spit on his
back in disgust as another biker runs up. He has a cut, but his only says
prospect. He immediately addresses the stocky biker.
“Five-O on the way.” He says, and the three men stalk out
of the bar.
I make sure to hide my phone before they come by and see
it. Judging by how they take care of business, I really don’t want to have to
explain why I was filming their deadly assault on an unarmed man. As the bikers
exit, the prospect turns back to the crowded bar.
“Pigs on the way. If there is anyone here who wisely does
not want to talk to them, you should leave now!”
Then he turns and follows his brothers out to their
waiting motorcycles. The fake biker is starting to come around again judging by
his low moans and the people nearest to him back away and turn to their own
drinks. Pretty soon the man is yelling in earnest and begging people to aid
him. I look around the dimly lit bar and so far no one wants to get involved
and I can’t blame them. Anyone coming to assist the victim may end up being the
next victim when the Soul Eaters hear about it. Molly grabs my arm and takes my
half-finished drink out of my hand.
“Come on Kim, it’s time we got out of here.”
“Wait a second I’m not finished.” I protest.
“Oh yes you are. You stay here any longer and someone’s
going to notice you were filming and we’ll both be in trouble. And if you don’t
plan on giving that up to the police we’d better get going.”
It’s hard to think quickly in my alcohol fuelled haze,
but something about what she said actually makes sense so I nod and follow her
out. I’ve only been in town maybe five months and have never run into the Soul
Eaters until today and today I have run into them twice. I hope that’s not a
sign of things to come because I really don’t want anything to do with them
despite my brother’s new affiliation. I wish I could just call Caleb and talk
to him. I’m sure he didn’t see me in the crowd earlier tonight so he probably
doesn’t even think I exist.
Molly herds me across the packed parking lot and over to
her car. I guess we’ll pick mine up in the morning or something. There’s no
freaking way I can drive in my condition. She unlocks the door for me and is
just opening it when a giant hand shuts it. We both stumble backwards, face to
face with two Soul Eaters and abruptly my body begins to go haywire. My heart
starts pounding, my palms get sweaty, and I feel like I can’t breathe. I’m
facing two leather clad bikers. One is the stocky guy in the bar. I know this
because he’s still got the fake biker’s real blood on his hands. But it’s his
companion that has me reeling. It’s the hot guy I saw at the fights earlier
tonight and boy he’s even hotter close up!
“Oh shit…now I’m in trouble.” I slur.
Molly elbows me in the ribs and mouths, “Shut up!”
“What?” I shout. “He’s hot!”
Now the lanky, blood spattered biker shows up. “You get
that camera yet?” He asks the other two.
“I was just about to search these two.” The hot one
replies.
“No way!” Molly objects. “You’re not searching anyone.”
“Me…me…” I begin. “You can search me.” I say to the hot
one. “I don’t have anything to hide.” I say as I open my light jacket. Then
with not so deft fingers I stupidly begin to pop the top three buttons of my
top, but before I can actually bare my chest Molly comes to my rescue and pulls
my jacket back together.