by Lena Bourne
Our destination is some sort of walled-off place in the middle of nowhere. It’s a concrete wall in this case, rising at least six feet from the ground, as far as I can tell from a distance. Cross calls for a halt just as we come in sight of it.
“Get off your bike,” he tells me. “You have to look like our prisoner now.”
I swallow hard and do as he tells me. The black van that’s been following us, quite possibly the same one that took Misti and my gran to safety, stops alongside us and my hands are bound with a plastic zip tie before I’m told to get in the back. Tank tied my hands very tightly, but at least he did it in front and not at the back.
All the excitement the ride here woke in my chest is gone as Cross appears at the back door of the van. His eyes are black and piercing, as always.
“Just like we talked about,” he says. “You’ll have all day to get reacquainted with your friend Slate. Then tomorrow, you tell the Snakeskins your sorry tale and make sure they believe it.”
“I understand,” I tell him past the lump of my throat. I don’t have a lot of hope that the Snakes will let me get one word out before they kill me if I just show up on their doorstep. But I’ll worry about that as it comes up. I gotta do this for my family and to clear my name with my brothers. It’s the only way.
He nods curtly and slams the van door shut. I’m in complete darkness now. But the van still smells of Misti—the vague, clean, springtime scent that always hangs around her, which is nice. It’s like she’s with me. And I can’t fail if she’s with me.
A short ride later, we come to an abrupt halt that tosses me off the bench because I can’t break my fall in time. I’m on my knees as Scar opens the door.
“We got the traitor!” Cross yells as Scar pulls me out of the van roughly, almost forcing me back down to my knees.
“I’m putting him with his friends. We’ll take them all with us when we go avenge our brothers tomorrow at dawn,” Cross adds.
About twenty brothers are gathered in the dusty yard between the concrete wall and a concrete rectangular building which is probably another weapons depot. They all whoop at his announcement, then shout obscenities at me as Scar drags me past them. Some spit at me, others simply glare at me silently, a few curse and promise vile things will happen to me soon. If I didn’t know this was just for show, I’d believe them all. I kind of do regardless.
The need to put on this public display of hate becomes clear as we clear the mass of hateful brothers. The five prisoners are tied to the metal legs of a tin-roof parking area-the two brothers to one, and the other three to one post each.
Scar pushes me to the ground next to Slate and makes short work of first untying my hands and then tying me to the same pole he’s tied to. My hands are tied on my back now, my shoulders twisted awkwardly.
The enclosed space smells of piss, shit, and fear despite being almost entirely open to the air. It’ll only get worse as the day’s heat rises. Disgusting.
“Have a good time with your best friends now,” Scar says mockingly.
“These assholes aren’t my friends!” I shout. “I had nothing to do with what they did.”
The shock of being shouted at by my brothers like I’m a piece of trash helps lend my voice the necessary desperation. Or indignation. Or despair. Or something in that general area.
“It’s good your sorry ass is going down with us for this,” Crow says as soon as Scar’s back is turned. “I bet you’ll squeal and beg for your life when the time comes, just like your uncle did.”
My stomach twists in rage, all the more painful because I can’t do anything about it. Reggie would never squeal and he’d never beg. Especially not a Snake.
“Shut your mouth, idiot,” his brother Hijack hisses at him. “And don’t be giving up so fast either. The Snakeskins can take this sorry little band of has-beens.”
“The Snakes can’t even wipe their own ass, let alone take even five Devils,” I counter. His mention of Reggie has clouded my brain, filled it with all the rage and hate I always see in my father’s eyes. “I’m just sorry you won’t be there to see them all die.”
Hijack chuckles. “Are you hoping they’ll hear you defending them? Because I don’t think they care. To them, you’re a traitor. To them, you helped us set those bombs. Now you’ll die with the rest of us. That must hurt.”
Four of my brothers are guarding us, but they’re keeping well back from the stench. That doesn’t stop them from glaring at me.
“For what it’s worth, the piece of shit is right, Blaze,” one of them shouts and spits on the ground. “You’re a traitor and tomorrow you die for it.”
The hate in his voice sounds real enough to me.
“How’d we end up here, huh?” Slate says in a wispy, distant voice.
“We ended up here because you idiots attacked the Devils,” I snap. “What the fuck were you thinking? I mean, I know the Snakes are dumber than shit, but you fucking had a choice.”
“A long time ago and it wasn’t much of a choice,” Slate says. “I love her.”
“It was a sad day my sister met your wimpy ass, that’s for sure,” Crow pipes up. “The one thing you were good for was getting us close to the Devils, and you fucked that up too.”
“Oh, it’s my fault we’re here now?” Slate snaps. “As I remember it, you’re the one who wouldn’t stop drinking and ogling cocktail waitresses when we were supposed to leave right after the job. Can’t blame you though. Slim pickings for women where you’re from, you inbred motherfucker.”
“What does that make Nia, your wife, my sister?” Crow says. “She inbred too?”
“Nia’s the only normal one in your whole family. I still can’t believe she’s really your sister.”
“Shut up, both of you! You’re bickering like a couple of women,” Hijack snaps. “They’re laughing at us and I can’t think. Just shut up.”
It’s true. Our four guards are laughing at us.
“You can think?” I ask. “That’s news to me.”
“Shut up, coward,” Hijack barks at me. “You ran away from home rather than try to avenge your brother’s death. You wouldn’t have done it. But not even trying, that’s some next-level crap.”
The rage in me is boiling. I can’t breathe because of it. I can’t even see clearly. Him and Crow have three younger brothers. There was lots of talk among my family that we should kill them in revenge for my little brother’s death. I couldn’t stomach that and it played a large part in my decision to leave.
“Yeah, my biggest fucking mistake was not killing you before I left,” Blaze says. “I hope I at least get to watch you die.”
“That’s too much talking, pipe down now!” one of our guards’ shouts. “You sound like a bunch of hens. You’re all gonna be dead this time tomorrow. Try to go with a little dignity.”
They all laugh at that, harshly, meanly, so hard I have no doubt they’re speaking the truth. Their words were so pointed they have the effect of shutting us all up for a while.
My arms are starting to cramp up and the sun’s not even halfway up the sky yet. A day with these assholes that I’ve hated my whole life isn’t gonna do much for my sanity or my composure to do the thing I need to do. How the fuck am I gonna pretend I’m seeking help from the Snakes? I hate them more than anything. I won’t be happy even if all of them are dead.
I wish night would come already. And I hope by the time it does, I don’t strangle Crow and Hijack the moment my hands are untied.
Misti
We were packed into the back of that van like sardines. There was a young woman about my age with waist-length wheat blonde hair, holding a tiny baby to her chest and balancing a toddler on one knee, an old man with rheumy eyes, his face so wrinkled I’d say he was a hundred if a day. He was holding the hand of his wife, who didn’t look much younger than him. The other seats were taken up by kids, none older than six, I don’t think. Blaze’s grandma was in the passenger seat looking back at us through the cloudy littl
e window every so often.
The baby was the only one who smiled back when I smiled at him. Or her. The rest just stared at me the whole time, but looked away when I met their eyes.
I kept hoping the uncomfortable, tense ride would end soon, but it was at least an hour later that we finally stopped. It felt like ten hours.
They dropped us off at a motel in the middle of nowhere, with only grassy fields on both sides, covered in tiny purple and yellow flowers. There’s a church and a diner across the street from the motel, and a gas station next to it.
“Come, we’ll share a room,” Blaze’s grandma says, while I’m eyeing the church because it looks more inviting than any I’ve ever seen before. I’d do just about anything to get away from the tense situation Blaze’s family members are creating with their weird stares. The rest of the women, old folks, and children are already here, and it looks like they rented out the whole place.
I smile at her and nod. “That would be nice. But I have to call my sister. She’ll probably want to come and get me.”
The old woman shakes her head. “Nonsense. You will stay right here. You’re tied to us. This is where you belong. Call me Sue.”
“I’m Misti,” I say in a choked voice as I try to process all she just told me.
“Room 1,” Sue says. “Let’s go.”
She walks pretty fast, given the fact that she’s dragging one leg along the ground and is bend forward alarmingly at the waist. Even so, I have no trouble keeping up with her the way I do with most other people.
Deep down I had hoped to get along with Blaze’s grandma. I’d hoped she’d remind me of my own, but Sue is intense in a way my grandma never was and her tales of long-ago dreams of white ladies and crows are a little creepy.
She has trouble fitting the key in the lock once we reach the room so I help and open the door to a small room dominated by a large bed covered with a yellow comforter. All the rest of the decor in the room is in shades of brown, ochre predominating. The room smells stuffy and unused. Dusty too, and old.
“Let’s open the window in here,” Sue says and starts shuffling towards it. I beat her to it.
She grins at me then sits down on the edge of the bed with a groan. “I don’t like being away from home. Especially on a day like today. Or the one coming tomorrow. But with all those men there, I’d just get in the way.”
I sit down beside her, clenching my hands together in my lap. For some reason, my skin looks extra white today, but that’s probably just from all that talk about the White Lady.
“Do you think Blaze will be alright?” I ask, realizing I’m only doing so because I think she can somehow see the future, even though that’s utter nonsense.
She taps my hands then leans over and balances her walking stick against the nightstand.
“He’s the dark-haired man from my dream,” she says. “I know that now. He’s the one that will bring us peace. I don’t know if that comes at a price. Big deeds like that usually do.”
I don’t like the tone of her voice. She sounds like she knows what that price might be, and that it will be high, but doesn’t want to say it.
She taps my clenched hands again. “Don’t worry. Blaze was born with such fire, such bright life inside him, that I’m sure it will always protect him.”
“I noticed that in him too,” I say into the pause.
She nods. “Of course you did, how could you not? That’s why I called him Blaze when he was young. But that’s not the whole reason.”
My heart speeds up, fluttering out of rhythm as it always does when Blaze isn’t with me.
“What’s the whole reason?” I ask in a croaky, breathless voice.
“He burns too bright and too fast,” she says. “More like a flash fire than a steady wildfire, if you know what I mean.”
I don’t, but I’m having trouble breathing for some reason. These are dark words she’s speaking, even though she’s talking about light and life.
This time, as she touches my hands, she keeps her hand there and squeezes. Her hands are just as warm as Blaze’s, maybe even a little hotter. “But that’s over now that he’s met you,” she says, smiling at me in a way I can only describe as serene. “You will help him bank his fire. Help him control it. I’ve seen this in dreams too.”
This doesn’t make me feel a whole lot better. I don’t know why, but I’m very scared right now. Maybe it’s because I’m on the verge of a heart episode. Those always start with a strong, unnamed fear rising in my chest and clouding my mind.
The only difference is, I can name this fear. I’m afraid Blaze will die today and now I’m afraid his grandma has seen it happen in one of her dreams. Or knows it’ll happen through some other sign she saw.
“I should call my sister,” I say and stand up.
Sue smiles and nods. “You do that. And I’ll lie down for a bit. I didn’t get much sleep last night. It was all so very exciting.”
I help her get onto the bed as best I can and then practically run out of the room and across the street to the church, hoping that it’s open.
Prayer, not suppression is what I need now. More to calm my fears than anything else, hopefully. Blaze is with friends, surrounded by men who will do all they can to keep him alive. But a little extra help from me won’t hurt.
27
Blaze
It took a few hours for me to successfully bank the rage Crow’s words and admissions woke in me. But I managed it eventually and got on with my mission of getting friendly with Slate and even Buddy, though he wasn’t in much of a mood for talking. We used to be best friends as children. That only changed after my little brother was killed and I cut contact with the entire outside world except Colt. Buddy’s face looks grey with more than just worry. He looks like he has already given up. Crow kept interrupting us as we meandered down memory lane, but we ignored him, and eventually, he grew tired of it.
At dusk, the Devils fed us, bringing us food and water in bowls and forcing us to eat like dogs. I refused to eat angrily, telling them I won’t accept anything from men who consider me a traitor. The brother feeding me just shrugged, dumped the food and water on the ground in front of me, and walked away. The rest ate hungrily and sloppily, getting ridiculed for it something fierce.
By the time night fell, dark and starless tonight, I regretted not eating.
“Remember the time we crashed that fancy wedding?” Slate asks. “I’ve never had cake that good. Before or since.”
I chuckle. “I could go for a slice of that cake right about now.”
We were about twelve at the time, and the wedding was happening in a huge field just outside of town. There must’ve been at least two hundred people there and no one even noticed we weren’t supposed to be there. I barely remember being as carefree and worry-free, as I was back then. But talking to Slate all day today has brought a lot of those memories back.
“You were there too, weren’t you, Buddy?” Slate asks. “Didn’t you puke from eating too much cake?”
“Sure I did,” Buddy says, chuckling. “But only after we got chased away when you spilled coke on the bride and they realized we weren’t supposed to be there.”
“Oh, yeah, I remember that,” I say, chuckling too. “But it was Colt who spilled the coke, not Slate.”
A series of loud explosions swallows up the last of my words. The sky at the far side of the compound, behind the concrete building I’ve been staring at all day, turns alarmingly orange. The air smells of gunpowder, explosives, and fire.
“What the fuck was that?” Slate asks.
“The Snakeskins!” Crow yells triumphantly. “My father is here to save us!”
Colt is running towards us. He stops by the four guards and hurriedly tells them they’re needed up front. That it’s all hands of deck or it’ll get worse. But he doesn’t follow them when they run towards the fire. Instead, he runs to me and drops to his knees beside the pole I’m tied to.
“I’m here to set you free,” he s
ays breathlessly.
“Don’t be an idiot, Colt,” I snap. “They’ll kill you too.”
“No way I’m letting you die,” he says as he cuts my restraints. “We joined this MC together and we’re leaving together.”
“Are they here to rescue us?” Crow asks.
Colt gives him a contemptuous look. “No, idiot. I set those explosions for a diversion.”
“Come on, we gotta go,” he says to me once my bonds are cut.
“Where?” I ask rolling my shoulders to get the worst of the cramps out. I hardly felt my arms anymore and they’re coming back to life with nearly unbearable pins and needles.
“We’re not far from your home,” he says.
“My father will kill me faster than the Devils,” I respond. “You know that.”
“Then anywhere,” he says exasperatedly. “But we gotta go now.”
“The Snakes,” Slate says. “They’ll help us. Take me to, I’ll—“
“You fucking traitor,” Crow spits. “And no, they won’t help this murderous piece of shit. That’ll never happen.”
I fear he’s very much right about that. But the wheels are in motion. I can’t stop them anymore.
“It’s an idea. Untie Slate too,” I tell Colt. “And Buddy.”
Colt looks at me weirdly and opens his mouth to argue. “Just do it. We’ll figure it out later.”
He makes short work of it and both Crow and his brother Hijack, as well as the third Snake whose name I don’t remember, are shouting protests, demanding we free them too.
“No way,” I say.
“I’ll bring your father and everyone here to save you,” Buddy promises.
Colt points at the darkness to our left. “There’s another door there. We gotta run.”