The Rising Sons Motorcycle Club (26 page)

Trask let up on the shoulder. He knew he wouldn’t get any more information from the man. He dropped the wallet and cards down onto Erick’s body.

As Trask walked away, he said to Hope, “Thanks, babe. Why don’t you head to the bike and grab your kit? I think a few of these brave souls need some attention.”

“Sure thing. Come with me. We can get the two of you stitched back together.” She smiled at Raven and Hoser.

Trask smiled at her. “We’ll catch up.” The group watched Hope head back down into the dry riverbed and back up the other side.

When she was out of earshot, he leaned in toward Raven and the others. “Take care of him. Keep it quiet, keep it natural.”

Raven turned back to the wounded man. His eyes were closed, and his breath was even more labored than before. Facing Trask again, she nodded.

In the next few hours, every biker in the Rising Sons came to the bar. The news was out that they had lost Sam, Pitt, Trigger, Walburg, and Clyde. Some of the men were shedding tears without shame. Others were angrier than hell.

“Maldonado.” Cecil spit the word out. “I’m on the phone with my guys in Vegas. He’s a fuckin’ dead man.”

Clyde’s death was especially hard for the old-timers. Some of them had served long sentences together, and they had all been there more than twenty years. They had seen the club grow from a small organization to something that commanded respect throughout southern California. Cecil blamed everyone and everything for his friend’s death.

Raven caught most of Cecil’s anger. “How the fuck did this happen? This is on you, you dumb cunt. Your hands have five different brothers’ blood on them. Bear would skin you alive.” He got right in her face before turning in disgust. “Who the fuck put this dumb bitch in charge, anyway?”

“You did.” Trask stepped between the two of them. “Whether this would have happened under Gunner’s watch or not is irrelevant. You made your choice when no one stepped up. You were all fine to listen to Raven until shit hit the fan. Where the fuck were you, tonight, Cecil?”

The older man shoved Trask. “It wasn’t my goddamn night.”

Trask stayed calm. “Doesn’t matter. It’s your club as much as it was Clyde’s. Just because your name isn’t on some sheet of paper doesn’t mean you can’t suck it up and sleep on a cot. Raven’s been there every goddamn night.”

Cecil didn’t have any words for Trask, but he did for the rest of the bikers present. “I don’t know about you, but neither of these two piss-ants has my confidence. I say Gunner steps up, like he shoulda done the minute we found out Bear was down. Fuck, I mean, why do we have a system if we ain’t gonna follow it?”

Raven heard a resounding number of bikers agree with Cecil. Gunner’s face remained still as everything went down. She wondered why Trask had stepped up to bat for her and not the man she was sleeping with. It made her wonder if the rough relationship wasn’t beginning to smooth out at all.

“Cecil’s right. We got the rules, we oughta follow ‘em.” Boss got another somber cheer from the crowd. He looked at Raven with the hard eyes of a seasoned outlaw. “Hate to break it to you, princess, but you’ll never be the president of this here motorcycle club.”

She felt the lump in her throat. Raven fought harder than ever before to keep herself together. Boss and Cecil had hurt her, but they’d brought up valid points. It was the story of her life. She could take the harsh words, but only for so long. Eventually she just couldn’t be worn down and beaten any longer.

“Fine.” All eyes were on Raven. “I never asked to be in charge of this. I saw the need for a leader, and I stepped up. Sorry. Sorry for doing my part for the club, and my part for Bear. Sorry for doing my duty.” As they stood beside the steaming ruins of their bar. She turned and threw her hands up in futile failure. “Y’know, actually, no. I’m not sorry for any of it. All yours, Gunner.”

She swung
her leg over her Harley, fired it up, and kicked up gravel as she peeled out of the parking lot. She ducked under some “fire scene” tape and took off toward town.

Raven hated crying. She thought it was weak. She blamed the chilly night air and the smoke for the tears running down her cheeks. She had to wipe her eyes the entire ride back to Bakersfield. It was a while before she realized that she had driven right through Bakersfield.

When she snapped out of the haze of emotion, Raven realized that she was headed back to Bear Valley. She was reliving the first raid with her brothers. She remembered her heart racing as she brought up the rear of the train of bikers. Raven had been trusted with an important job, and Bear had encouraged her when they got back to the bar.

To her, it felt like years, not just a few short months. She rode past her scouting point. The road made a gradual change from paved two-lane to a dirt road with room for only one vehicle. She passed the occasional small power station, finally coming to a rusted gate. One side had sagged down, beginning to sink into the red dirt. The other side was still horizontal. She rode to the right of the gate and down the road.

The single headlight shone on what looked like a scrapyard for the compulsive. It was one building with many add-ons and rooms jutting out, all thinly connected with tin sheets and plywood. From above it probably looked like a tree branch or root system with rooms stemming from the main trailer outwards.

She saw ruts where cars had parked, but the place had been empty for a while.
Since the raid,
she realized. She killed the engine, unnerved by the headlight dying along with the motor. Then she grabbed a small penlight from her saddle bag and walked toward the jumbled building.

The door was a heavy steel plate and half open. It had rusted into a solid piece of the building, but after some shoving with her good arm, she moved it enough to squeeze through. The smell of gasoline hit her hard. All the metal walls were rusted, and anything else was charred.

When she shined the small light down on the sagging remains of plywood floor, she saw spent bullet casings. The walls had holes in them, and she saw the first body just through the first entryway. It was almost unrecognizable. The entire place had been burned.

Raven realized what had happened leading up to the attack on Los Bandoleros just as the sound of the motorcycle reached her still-ringing ears.

Raven panicked. She reached behind her for the gun that wasn’t there. Cursing under her breath and moving deeper into the derelict structure, she found a window. Light shone through the broken frame, projecting a twisted image on the wall behind. She bent down and peered out. She could see the motorcycle parked next to hers, but the rider was hidden by the light. The engine died, but the headlight stayed shining on the building.

As she pulled out her cell phone, Raven remembered the first time she’d been out in the foothills. Cell service was almost nonexistent. Shadows danced across the wall as the rider walked past the headlight beam of his motorcycle. The maze of a building probably had multiple doors, and even though Raven didn’t know where the man was heading, she had to move deeper into the structure.

The biker’s boots crunched in the hard dirt and gravel. Raven moved into another room, stepping as lightly as possible. Through the door frame, her first step sank through the weak plywood. She lifted her boot out with slow care, listening behind her for the biker. Her breathing was rapid, and it didn’t matter how much she tried to control its pace.

She moved into the next room and her motorcycle boot came down on glass. The second she heard it break, Raven lifted her foot. Her head spun around, but the sound of the glass breaking was covered up by the steel door being shoved open. She took the chance of pulling out her flashlight. Keeping it low to the ground, she shined it through her fingers onto the floor. The large room was windowless, and the floor was covered in blackened, distressed, and broken chemical glassware. There was another door to her right, and she stepped through.

The floor was metal and hollow, and her first few steps rang out. Every movement on the floor was magnified. Raven had to stop. Fear overtook her as she realized she was trapped. She knew there were doors to other rooms all around her, but the further into the structure she got, the less light from the headlight came with her. As she heard the footsteps somewhere behind her, she put a hand over her mouth and slid down against the wall.

With only a small flashlight for protection, she waited. A beam of light shot past the room she was in. The biker had a flashlight, too. Raven closed her eyes tight, hoping that when she opened them, the nightmare would be over. Even with her eyes closed, she saw the room brighten as the beam swept past again. The footsteps were getting closer.

Someone from Las Vegas
, she thought. Someone had followed her, maybe another team ready to go after the club once the bikers all got there. She had no idea what to expect.

She breezed a silent sigh of relief when she heard boots crunching over glass. The biker was heading in the original direction that Raven had gone. As long as he didn’t double back, she might be able to wait him out. The question that came to her mind was why? Why had someone come to the burned-out ruins of Beezer’s drug factory?
Someone could ask me the very same question
, she thought.

Somewhere near the entrance, there was a metallic creaking. At first, Raven thought someone else was inside the building, but it was the metal settling in the cool night air. The strange building seemed to breathe and have a life of its own. She didn’t want to spend one more second in it. The walls felt like they were closing in, wrapping their rusted, metal hands around her throat.

To her left she saw the beam of light again. The room with all the broken glass connected to the one she was in. Raven had two choices: she could try and make a run for the door or closest window, or she could try and fight. Raven didn’t know if she had the strength to do either. As the footsteps in the beam got closer, she moved to her left to back herself against the door frame the biker would come through.

She tried to time her steps with his. The beam shined through the whole room. Even if Raven wanted to run, it was too late. Her heart threatened to rip through her bones and make its own escape. The footsteps got closer… closer… closer.

When the biker stepped through, Raven sprang.