by Victor Cruz
“I doubt you, Konrad,” Jack stared right into his eyes merely inches away from his face.
“I might not always come through with everything… or at the exact time… but I still come through, don’t I? Besides, if we do this right, you could be adding a whole new family to your ever-growing army.” Konrad persuaded, before adding the end to sweeten up the pot. “And I’ll be bringing at least one hot little thing. Maybe even more! So, make sure your men leave a few bikes for us.”
“Oh, we got plenty’o bikes. You just worry about bringing us our tribute, Konny-boy.” Jack stated confidently. He looked around aimlessly for a second before he asked Konrad with a sinister look. “What’s she look-like, anyway?”
Animal, Maxson could see Jack was interested in the mentioning a female just as much as Konrad’s payment itself.
“My, my, does she look fine and dandy, and taste like candy,” Konrad began. “But I don’t want to spoil your dinner for you. That deer meat is fresh. You just keep making me the goodies and I’ll keep bringing you guys supplies.”
“Fuckin’ asshole,” Jack disappointingly stated and his hands came to his hips to assert himself over Konrad who was a few inches taller than himself. “Maybe I just send Apache to trail you back home to find out where these alleged women are.”
“And end a good thing before it started?” Konrad said unintimidated. “You’re not dumb. You think beyond what’s in front of that handsome face of yours.”
“Balls, Konny. You got balls,” Jack said with a nod and the smallest of smiles. “If I didn’t see so much potential in you Essex boys, I would have had you thrown clear off this very roof.”
Konrad recognized the recurring threat of being tossed off the roof twice. Once by Maxson and now by Jack. Nevertheless, he remained grinning in his response, “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
“Well I’m sure you’re use to disappointing your mama by now, but I’m not going to be here to coddle you if you mess up.” Jack dismissed Konrad’s bravado. “But don’t you worry, I’ve made sure to hired you a babysitter to take my spot.”
Jack halfway turned to look back and over his shoulder to give a whistle. A short man that was very slim began walking towards them with his head held low. His black hair was slicked back and he had a smooth face making him look young. His hands were in the pockets of his leather jacket that was form fitting to his small form and ended above his wrist. The jacket was opened to show his white t-shirt underneath. The small man’s designer dress pants were just as tight as his shirt and ended above his bare ankles showing he wore no socks in his loafers.
Maxson wondered if the small man allowed someone else dress him, it was impossible for him to comprehend himself leaving the house looking like that. If he were wearing that outfit, he would have stayed in the hiding spot he was currently in for an indefinite amount of time, too ashamed to show himself.
“Konny. Meet Whispers,” Jack put an arm around the man who was much smaller in stature compared to the two of them.
Konrad extended his hand towards the smaller man and held it for him to shake. The smaller man had only briefly glanced up at Konrad a few times, but it was unclear due to his dark lenses covering his eyes. Unable to keep himself completely still, the man continued to fidget and look around like he couldn’t stop himself. It was clear that the man wearing the sunglasses had some sort of attention disorder. There was an awkwardness about him, but his hands stayed in his pockets making. His refusal to take his hands out to shake Konrad’s waiting hand, made Jack chuckle.
“Put your hand down,” Jack said to Konrad.
Konrad was offended by the look he gave the wiry lean older man.
Jack explained. “Whispers only speaks into the ears of people he trusts. Consider him conditioned from before the collapse when wiretapping was a thing you had to actually worry about. His tight lips have kept him alive on the streets, in prison and now out here.”
Whispers took a small bow and rolled his hand out in front of him like an actor taking a bow on stage. His hand retracted and the man tucked it back into his jacket, which further insulted Konrad.
“That little shit survived prison? He looks like he’s twelve years old!” Konrad said. “What do you need him for?”
“Well. I’m obnoxiously loud, and Whisper’s is anything but that. Consider him, as the Chinamen say, the yin to my yang. Someone to balance out my lack of social graces,” Jack proclaimed proudly.
“Jack, c’mon, we’re just getting to know one another,” Konrad objected slyly.
“Don’t try and butter my biscuit up,” I’m hardly ever this far north. Feel lucky that you even had the pleasure to meet Cowboy Jack. Most outsiders that do, usually don’t live to talk about it.”
“I do Jack, I really do. But how the hell am I supposed to work with him if the little guy don’t even talk?” Konrad said as a slight at Whispers, still sore at him for refusing to shake his hand.
Jack nodded and pointed at the burly man from earlier. He had a thick mustache and a receding short cropped afro. There was a big cigar sticking out of his mouth and he wore a pair of camouflage pants with military issued boots. “See that big black fella’? That’s Major. He’ll speak for Whispers. He don’t like to talk much either, but the way I see it, you guys don’t need to say much to one another outside of what we agreed upon.”
“How do I find them?” Konrad asked.
Whispers had to stretch up and Jack had to bend slightly down to hear the younger man meddle in his ear. Jack then responded, “Whispers said they’ll find you.”
Out of everything exchanged so far, this fact made Maxson the most nervous.
“Jack, c’mon, thought I could deal directly with you,” Konrad sounded shellshocked and had a hard time finding any words.
Jack felt the nudge against his side from the clean-cut smaller man. Jack leaned down and gave him his ear. The small man’s hand came up to his mouth to cover his lips that were saying something into his ear. “Uh-huh. Yeah. Oh? Wow. Yeah, I think you’re right,”
“What’d he say?” Konrad asked.
“It had to do with you, and it’s something I don’t want you to know,” Jack bluntly said. “Either way, as long as you come through, you don’t have to worry about our little secrets. Understand?”
Konrad nodded.
“Good. We’ve had enough fuckery going on as of lately and I just couldn’t bear the thought of having to deal with you in the same way,” Jack confessed. “You’re not going to try and fuck us, are ya?
Konrad shook his head this time. “No Jack, I would never. I know better than that!”
“Good. Because, if you do, we’ll hunt you down. We’ll find you. Take your women. Kill the men. But we will torture you. Slowly, and as God as my witness, do I mean sloooowwwwwly,” Jack’s rumbling voice was deep and cool, and amplified by his shaking jaw. The majority of the party could hear Jack’s threats and had caught their attention by now. “Understand that?”
“Yeah, Jack, of course we do,” Konrad looked serious for once.
“Good. And because I’m known to overdo things around here…” He stopped to ask the surrounding bikers for confirmation. Not for his own ego, but to convey his leadership to Konrad. “Ain’t that right boys and gals?”
The group all chuckled tensely behind him. Jack continued. “—and because I’m known to overdo things, I’m going to show you what happens to those who don’t follow through with their end of the bargain.”
Jack made a howling song like a wolf howling at the moon, before hooting three small distinctive times to end his cry. The rest of the MC made the three-hooting noise in unison and demonstrate their solidarity.
“Time to look over the ledge, Konny. You don’t want to miss the show,” Jack’s voice was crisp, callous and filled with testosterone fueled mayhem.
diesel power
Maxson followed the two men, making sure that his body remained hidden from plain sight. They walked over towards the e
dge of building overlooking the construction pit that housed shrinking group of corpses. The dead had continued their circular motion around the leader in the middle and Maxson wondered if they had been going around and round this entire time. The only difference from last time was that the creatures were walking clockwise now. Maxson could tell that the big bald one with the ripped cheek hadn’t moved much since he last saw it.
The dirt ramp that lead down to the bottom of the construction pit stood six men at the top of the ramp on ground level. One of the men was in front of the others and on his knees with a rag wrapped around his mouth and arms fastened behind his back with rope. The tied-up man looked disheveled and bruised, but looked to be in peak physical condition. His shirt was off and wore only a pair of jeans to show off his body shredded by fibers of muscle on his chest, arms, stomach and shoulders. Tattoos were blotted on different parts of his body, but only looked like plain black ink from the distance Maxson spied from.
Jack had one foot on the ledge and leant over the roof to talk down to the group next to the pit. Konrad stared down at the pit with Jack, with the slightest hint of anxiety. “Alllllright. Let’s get this show on the road!!!”
The group hooted three times.
Jack projected himself easily over the entire town while pointing down at the man on his knees, “Look down here, at this gutless worm of a man. A would betray his own brothers! Untie that rag from his mouth and let’s see what words comes slithering out of the mouth of this traitorous snake in the grass.”
One of the men untied the rag. The man on his knees said nothing though and just stared back up at Jack.
“Speak up for yourself, Diesel. These could very well be your last words,” Jack said with a foretelling delight.
The man nicknamed Diesel shouted from the ground level, while still on his knees, his hands behind his back and without a hint of fear in his voice, “I’ve got nothing to say. I’ve done what I’ve done. I have no regrets. Get on with it.”
“You are really ready to die for that woman?” Jack bellowed.
“If you are ready to kill me.” Diesel shouted back.
Jack leaned back off the ledge looking to his subordinates that were all crowded around him. “What do ya’ll think? Should we make this interesting? Give him another shot?”
Three hoots came from the group.
Jack received his answer and relayed it back down to Diesel, “Well, looks like you have some fans up here still. Might have just bought you a second chance. What’ya think? Think you can fall back in line? They seems-to think so. But me, I’m not so sure about that.”
“You’re the head Cowboy Jack,” Diesel shouted back. “But what I’ve done and where I stand on it doesn’t change. You’re wrong for this, Jack. I am in the right! And you know it!”
Brave bastard! Stop while you’re ahead! Maxson pulled for the man who was in a position to plead for his life, but chose not to.
Jack raised a set of keys and jingled them above his head. “Right? Right!? Well these RIGHT here. These are the keys to your bike. All you have to do is use them to start it, ride it and take one turn RIGHT. And then, and only then, will things be RIGHT by me.”
What’s the catch? Maxson anticipated. It sounded too easy.
“Welllll… let’s give him his keys, what ya’ll say?” Jack said back to the group with a friendly smile.
HOOT. HOOT. HOOT. The group called back.
Jack suddenly turned, with his arm whipping out and the keys leaving his hand. They flew off the roof and fell down into the middle of the construction pit. Dirt flew up and the keys slid to end at the feet of the big bald corpse standing idle in the center. The herded creatures and the larger ones that herded them around in a circle all stopped to glance at the keys. Even the big, bald leader in the center noticed the keys at its own feet.
Maxson could see the leader’s ripped cheek dismembered and twisted into a contorted. It reminded him of a permanent smile that was wider than a Hyenas and much more terrifying. He also took notice to the creature’s very noticeable underbite and he wondered if it always had one or if that was a new development. The group stared for what only lasted five seconds before they all turned around and began to rotate around, but now counter clockwise.
The bikers were all silent besides Jack who found it suspiciously interesting, “Well ain’t that something. Ya’ll seeing what I am?”
The group didn’t hoot. Instead they were silent and nodding their heads looking down in confusion at the group of dead at the bottom of the pit. Noting the odd behavior as they all looked amongst themselves for confirmation of what they were seeing.
Jack became impatient as he stared down at the man still tied and still on his knees, “Well what’re ya’ll waitin’ for? Untie him and give him a damn weapon so he can get his keys. It’s about time for me to get the hell outta’ here and get some good ol’ fashion R&R.”
A smaller man knelt down by Diesel’s hands and used the knife to cut the rope securing his hands. A shotgun was raised in his direction along with an automatic submachine gun by two different men that stood nearby making his chances of fighting impossible. One man rolled out a set of weapons: a pipe with a taped handle, a police baton, a sock with something heavy in it and a hammer.
“Go ahead, choose your poison,” Jack narrated like he was a television game host. Diesel grabbed two weapons at once. The guys tried to stop him. Jack halted them. “Go ahead, let him have both weapons. He’s going to need them.”
Diesel took the police baton in one hand and the lead pipe in the other. Diesel turned towards the group of men and said something that Maxson couldn’t hear.
A helpless feeling washed over him while he hid. In Maxson’s mind he was acting like a coward and should have used his scoped rifle to shoot the man to freedom. This wasn’t the movies though.
And I’m no hero.
Dozens of men were armed with automatics around him without a way to escape. Deprived of a plan to execute, there was nothing he could do. His .22 was no match for the multiple automatic rifles, machine guns and the rest of the arsenal that the biker gang were likely equipped with.
Diesel ended his words to his old crewmates before taking time to look down into the pit of over one hundred of the dead walking together in a circle. The fool’s errand to retrieve his keys was not lost upon him. The brave man knew that his fate was already sealed. Diesel turned towards the roof at Jack, Whispers, Major, Konrad and the rest of the group.
“Alexandria is free from The Riders. And soon. I will be too,” Diesel held out his hands wielding both of the weapons. Each one gripping the handles and pointing out towards his sides. He held his arms out as he took his few first steps down the dirt ramp before dropping them to his sides.
From spirit, to body, Diesel was ready for the next step in his journey and ultimately return to spirit. Maxson looked down on the formidable warrior with admiration as he walked down the dirt path. He could only hope that he would meet his own fate with such preparation.
The circle of creatures would not notice him as he ducked behind the dump truck that halfway blocked bottom. A minute went by as he looked for the right time to strike. A second minute. A third.
“You ain’t got all night,” Jack’s perturbed tone was dull and he hinted at his boredom.
Diesel didn’t need to hear a threat as he took a few deep breaths and stretched briefly. Twisting around the corner of the truck, he went unnoticed for a few steps. The leader was the first one to notice Diesel kneeling by the front of the vehicle. It’s ugly face slowly turned on its massive body and broad shoulders to look over. Diesel noticed the alpha in the center and froze while crouching at the front bumper.
The giant corpse then turned and its jaw opened. Maxson wondered if it was the creatures underbite or the ripped cheek, but its mouth opened grotesquely wide and appeared mutated. A loud thunderous roar rumbled from its chest and even made some of the black goo appear to bubble on its body. It was a gurgling g
rowl mixed with a banshee like high pitched scream that sounded like the one that carried the sledgehammer from earlier, but amplified by ten.
Maxson could feel his heart skip at the sudden outburst and even his deepest thoughts silenced by its shout. The black fluid dripped from the sides of the leader’s dark gray frothy mouth. The thick dark mucus substance simmered and popped like a tar bubble from a tar pit out of its wounds. It reminded Maxson of Florida gators that vibrate in the water before and make the water bubble.
Everyone on the roof once again looked at one another, without sharing a word. Their faces were stunned at the noise produced from the bald creature and just as silent. Maxson could read the fear on some of the biker’s faces, while others were too hardened to tell.
The circular motion of the creatures stopped. Then, all at once, turned towards Diesel. Before they could take their first step, Diesel confronted them by running out from the truck while yelling. Weapons in hand and charging to engage the nearest one to him. In one powerful strike, Diesel claimed his first victim.
They responded by walking all at once and right at him as Diesel took down a second one. The biker looked like a single warrior, but charged at the line of walking corpses like he was an entire army. A boot in the chest sent a third one vaulting back into its posse of flesh eaters and knocking them over like bowling pins. Another strike from the lead pipe killed Diesel’s next victim instantly.
Fast and Strong. Maxson noticed.
One reached to bite at him, but the baton provided armor to his arm and he deflected the creature’s attack. With a quick retracting of the baton, he was able to elbow the creature in the side of the head sending it into another group of incoming dead. It bought Diesel enough time to kill a fourth and fifth flesh eater in two quick successions. A few stumbled over the dead and knocked down dead a sixth one with the baton, before ending a seventh one, in a combo piece.
The next dozen of dead were much slower to kill, due to the lack of explosiveness that Diesel was no exerting. Even though he was in great shape, a human only has so much stamina to use before it starts affecting his speed and strength. By the next set of flesh eaters, Diesel was having trouble not tripping over the dead bodies that laid at his feet.