Edge of Chaos

by Brynn O'Connor

  Finally, she succumbs to exhaustion and passes out, but her state of unconsciousness brings its own bad dreams.

  Kayla wakes from her nightmare to the screams of terror from the girl on the DVD. When Kayla’s captors finally return, the air around her is rank with fear and the stench of adrenalin-laced sweat. Gunnar walks up to Kayla and wrinkles his nose at her.

  “Whew woman, couldn’t you have held it? Gunnar asks. “You’re like, twenty feet from a bathroom!”

  Kayla refuses to speak. Even though her tormentors turned off the DVD, she can still hear the screams echoing around in her head. In fact she is finding it extremely difficult to follow any conversation. There is just too much going on between her ears right now. Looking at the four men, Kayla notices something interesting. Three of them seem to radiate an aura of pure evil from their bodies. But the fourth…he doesn’t fit. She gets the distinctive idea that he is there because he has to be there, not because he wants to be. She wonders if he is the weak link in the operation. The man that really creeps her out is the mousey one called Kurt. Just by looking at him she can tell he really gets off on torturing people. He walks up to Kayla and looks at her for a minute like he’s trying to see inside her mind.

  “Now here’s something you’ll find interesting Kayla,” Gunnar says after a minute.

  “I’m sure I won’t,” Kayla replies.

  “Kurt is something of a mind reader,” Gunnar announces. “Right now he is looking into your psyche and determining what form of torture will produce the most terrifyingly painful experience. Fascinating isn’t it?”

  “Thrilling,” Kayla deadpans.

  Finally Kurt looks away and focusses on his tools. After some deliberation he finally chooses what looks like a dentist’s drill. He holds it up for Kayla to see, and then he turns it on just for a couple seconds. The effect is immediate. Kayla wrenches away from him, arching her back.

  After a moment he turns it off.

  “Didn’t think so,” Kurt begins. “It’s far too tiny to impress you. Let me see… I think you’ll respond better to something a little flashier…something with a little glam to it perhaps.”

  He goes back to examining his tools. After a moment he selects the small blow torch. He turns on the gas and ignites the flame.

  “I get the sense that you’re a person who appreciates the arts; and not just any art. No, I think you really like things that are more Avant Garde…abstract if you will. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  Kayla keeps her lips shut tight. She refuses to give the sadistic bastards any satisfaction of her crying or screaming. Kurt holds the torch up in front of Kayla’s face. As her eyes focus on the little blue flame her eyes dilate. She begins to breathe faster and she’s starting to sweat.

  “I knew it, I fucking knew it!” Kurt proclaims with satisfaction. Then he turns to Gunnar. “Did I not tell you she appreciates the arts?” Without waiting for an answer he continues talking to Kayla. “You’d be amazed at the patterns you can make on a person’s body with this little device,” he says pointing to his torch. “I’m quite sure you’ll appreciate it.”

  Kayla doesn’t say a single word but the closer he gets to her with that thing she realizes her resolve is probably only going to last about two seconds.

  Kurt walks around behind Kayla and watches as she squirms, trying to see what he’s doing back behind her. Kayla clenches her teeth and her nails dig into her skin as she waits for the burning to begin. She waits and waits but still nothing. Then she smells something nasty. It takes her a moment then it hits her. She smells her hair burning! Her body tenses, but she keeps her mouth clamped shut. Then without warning rough hands grab the thin material of her sleeping shirt and starts ripping at it. All of a sudden four men are grabbing at her shirt and panties and tearing and ripping until there’s not a stitch of clothing on her thin frame.

  Soon shame and embarrassment trumps her fear of pain; but not for long.

  When the flame finally touches the tender skin on her low back it feels like ice; but only for an instant. Kayla arches her back, throws her head back and shrieks for all she’s worth. She could not have even begun to imagine what it feels like to be slowly burned alive. The pain is so intense Kayla loses all control of her body and just starts jerking and bouncing and she flails about in every direction at once. The third time the flame makes contact with her upper back she jerks so hard the whole chair falls over sideways and she just squirms and jerks spinning round and round. The four bikers stand back and watch her movements with amusement.

  If someone would have told Kayla that someday she would be in so much pain she would try to brain herself on the floor to escape it she’d have said they’re crazy. Tied to a metal chair and lying on a dirty cement floor, Kayla jerks and strains against her bonds. Pain breaks and flows across her body like ocean waves, each one more powerful than the last. After a moment she relaxes her tightly shut eyes and ventures opening one.

  Kurt is holding a drill bit in front of her face. The bit is about four inches long and maybe an eighth of an inch in diameter.

  “Don’t get too carried away,” he cautions. “I want this to last a few days or so.”

  Kurt nods, and then returns his attention to his drill. He holds the drill right in front of Kayla’s face while he slips the bit into place. Once seated in the drill he tightens it and licks his lips with anticipation. He rests his index finger on the trigger and watches Kayla’s reaction when he depresses it. Her eyes literally grow two sizes and her heart begins to hammer painfully in her chest as she watches the spinning drill bit. She begins screaming even before the bit touches her knee cap.

  The watching biker’s expressions range from a dull boredom (Gunnar) to unabashed excitement (Johnny C, the clubs new Sargent at Arms). The only person who isn’t enjoying the show is the youngest of the four, Marcus. Torture, especially torture for the sake of torture, is not what he signed up for. They have been terrorizing the woman for close to 18 hours and no one has asked a single question of her. The whole idea behind the kidnapping was to interrogate the victim to find out where Luke is hiding out. Gunnar doesn’t seem to be even remotely interested in finding out.

  Kurt moves to drop his pants, and that's the last straw for Marcus.

  Marcus’s grip tightens on his 9mm. He’s just about to draw it out when the window behind him breaks and a metal canister flies through the air and lands in their midst.

  “Kill the girl!” Gunnar yells.

  Marcus is the first one to react. He lashes out with his foot knocking Kayla to the ground as bullets tear through the vary air her body occupied a moment ago. Kurt is useless. He still has his pants around his ankles and he stumbles and falls to the ground; also unhurt. Johnny and Gunnar draw and fire simultaneously. Johnny aims for Kayla while Gunnar points in the direction the tear gas grenade came from and just starts spraying blindly. The attackers are prepared and wait for the smoke to take full effect before they attempt a breach.

  The Kings are lucky that the attackers have one goal and one alone; rescue the girl. For that reason they hold their fire when they realize the girl’s captors are rendered useless. While Gunnar, Kurt, Johnny, and Marcus roll around on the ground, gasping for air, guns long forgotten, two of the assailants grab Kayla, chair and all and hoof it for the exit.

  The attack is over as quickly as it began. Not two minutes after the canister of tear gas sails through the window, the four masked attackers and their captive disappear into the night leaving four bewildered bikers choking in their wake.

  Kayla’s ordeal lasts a little while longer, having not had the benefit of a gas mask. Her rescuers choose to forgo giving her a mask in the interest of getting out of there before anymore bullets begin to fly. She lies in the backseat of the Ford truck gagging and choking and there’s nothing that can be done about it, but at least she's safe.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The Sons of Chaos

  Luke purposely chooses to ride in the other truck to give
Kayla some time to get her head straight before he springs what will probably be an unhappy reunion upon her.

  The plan went off without a hitch. They decided to limit the raiding party to five guys. Luke didn't want to risk more men than necessary getting shot or captured by his father’s men.

  Luke’s emotions run the gamut from the pure excitement of a successful mission to deep remorse every time he recalls the last day he and Kayla were together. He smacks his forehead with the heel of his hand; as if that will help knock out some painful memories. They're on the way to the clubs new headquarters in Richmond. The brothers who had defected from the Suicide Kings now meet at fabrication shop owned and operated by one of the brothers. They call themselves the Sons of Chaos and their ranks are swelling, but it’s going to be tough operating in the same area that's crawling with clubs like the Suicide Kings, the Harbingers, and the Dead Soldiers just to mention a few.

  When Luke and the brothers arrive, the Sons of Chaos are gathered in force. As they pull up Luke sees what must be well over fifty Harley’s in the shop’s lot. Luke elects to let them get Kayla situated and comfortable before he shows up. He hangs around the brothers for a couple hours getting caught up. He's been out of the loop for nearly a year and has no idea what's been going on.

  Shortly after Luke disappeared key members of the Suicide Kings split off from their club and begin riding under different colours. Before long they were over 60 strong. Clashes with the Kings were frequent and often deadly. For that reason they rarely show up in force at their clubhouse. The last thing they want is an open war with the Kings. Many members of the Sons are ex-soldiers with combat experience in Iraq and Afghanistan and they 're convinced that on their own terms they can defeat and run the Kings out of town.

  The Kings are scrambling to increase their ranks by having frequent patch over parties with some of the smaller clubs in the area. They tried to get the Devil Dogs patched over but the Sons beat them to the punch and now they have a strong presence up north. Luke learns all this as he waits for a good time to approach Kayla. He also learns that the Sons want him to lead as their new President.

  After a quick vote Corey, younger brother of Marty who was murdered by Harbingers last year, presents Luke with his cut, replete with the proper three part patch, his diamond 1%er patch, and the President patch as well; it’s official.

  Some of the brothers break out the booze and it’s time to celebrate and unwind. Luke hangs with his new and old brothers for another hour or so before he finally feels the time is right to go see Kayla. She is resting in Brian and Cherry’s house. They have a large house on the same property as the shop and it’s well guarded by the Sons of Chaos. They know all too well that the Kings are going to be looking for revenge. Wearing his new cut, Luke knocks on the door and the brother’s old lady lets him in.

  “Come one in Luke,” says an attractive blond woman. “My name is Cherry. Your woman is in the last room on the right.”

  “Thank you so much for looking after her Cherry.”

  “Anything for a brother,” she replies with genuine sincerity. “She should be awake now. I just helped her get a shower and I gave her a bite to eat. Just…just…well, she is in bad shape Luke so be prepared. Those fuckers had her for several days I think and it was brutal.”

  “Should we be taking her to the hospital?” Luke asks anxiously.

  “I’m actually a nurse over at Saint Josephs, and I’m the one who’s been looking after her. There’s nothing more to do except give her time to heal.”

  Luke thanks her for her help and walks down the long hall to the last room on the right. He takes a deep breath, lets it out with a long sigh, and knocks on the door.

  Luke thought he was prepared for what lay on the other side of the door. He underestimated the toll even a few days of torture can have on a person. Even a few days of mistreatment, lack of food, water, and rest can have a toll on those unprepared for such conditions. What Luke sees when he opens the door is far beyond what he had been prepared for.

  He opens the door and just barely crosses the threshold when he is brought up short by the site of her. She was thin before, but not skeletal thin. Her cheeks are sunken in and completely lack any resemblance of her normal colour. What was a healthy glow has become a pasty, sweaty, look that makes her almost unrecognizable. Her hair is a tangled, unwashed mess without any of its former luster. The spark has gone from her normally bright, inviting eyes. Now they are just twin pale globes staring, unseeing.

  Luke approaches her bedside, an apology tumbling out of his mouth, but even his words of regret fail to kindle even a spark of life in her. How, he asks himself, can he have bungled this so badly with the woman he professes to love?

  Kayla looks at the man who left her for dead, waiting for feelings to surface but even the site of him fails to rekindle what she once felt so hotly. She’s not sure if it’s the long absence or that he left her for dead that prevents anything from registering. It has been close to a year after all without so much as a message. He hadn’t made a single attempt to contact her while she was recovering in the hospital and not since she has been out. If there was still anything left, his father and his men beat out any last shred of humanity she once possessed. So she just closes her eyes and wishes him far away from her. She’s just about decided that he gave up and left when he speaks up again.

  “You’re probably asking yourself where I’ve been the past year; more importantly where was I on the night you were shot? Believe me, I have been asking myself the same thing. I am not the guy you take home to meet your parents. I’m not the one to give you the three bedroom house with the white picket fence and two point five kids. I won’t ever drive a minivan or be on the board of the PTA. I’ll never be a humanitarian, and I’ll never win the father of the year award.

  I’m not your normal man. In fact I ceased being anything remotely close to normal when I was five years old. My father did his best to purge the innocence and burn the humanity out of me for 17 years and what was left when I joined the military…well they managed to tear that out before I ever fired a shot in anger. I could stand here and tell you it was the three tours in Afghanistan and Iraq that did it, but I can’t because that’s not completely true. I went along with the program. When they finally put a loaded gun in my hands and ordered me to kill, I was more than ready. They say they made a killer out of me, but in reality, I already was.”

  He stops speaking and falls silent. He probably expects some sort of response from her but she’s not there yet. He talks about the humanity being beat out of him, well his father just ripped that very same thing out of her and it only took three days to render her less than human.

  He begins speaking again. “Then I met you and despite everything you knew me to be, you accepted me and you didn’t once ask me to leave my club. But you know I would have done that for you gladly. In fact…” He trails off and stops speaking.

  She hears a tearing sound and opens her eyes. He is holding up a small rectangular patch between his thumb and index finger. He lets it fall to the carpet. He grabs the corner of another patch like he’s about to tear that one off too but changes his mind. Instead he removes his cut and drops it on the floor.

  “You may not want me anymore but I can’t accept that. Every woman I have ever been with has tried to pull me away from my club and they've all failed because they didn’t have anything to replace my club with. You have what I want Kayla. You are everything to me and without you my club means nothing to me.”

  Without waiting for a response he turns on his heels and walks out of the room shutting the door quietly behind him and any hope of getting back the only woman more important than his club.

  Kayla stares after him stunned. For him to give up his club for a woman who won’t even give him the time of day…it’s unthinkable. Having spent time with bikers for years she knows just how difficult it is to become a member of an outlaw motorcycle club, how many years of self-sacrifice it takes; no on
e would give that up lightly, and especially not a president. She looks down at his cut and the president patch he'd torn off and she realizes one more time that she loves who he is, and he is an outlaw biker; there’s no separating the two. You can’t have one without the other. Luke is nothing without his club and the club is nothing without Luke. She cannot let him do this, it’s not right.

  Slowly Kayla peels back the covers of her bed and swings her feet around and sits up. At first the room spins wildly but after a minute it calms down and is replaced by a faint light-headedness. Slowly she stands up. She wobbles and nearly takes a tumble but her determination won’t let her go down to the floor. She walks across the room and stops in front of his cut where she scoops it up along with the patch and walks to the door. She takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. She tries to calm her roiling stomach before opening the door. Then she opens it and steps out into the hallway.

  “Luke!” She calls out, but her voice is weak and hoarse from screaming so no one hears her. She takes deep breath and tries again. “Luke!”

  A sudden commotion from another part of the house assures her that someone has heard her voice.

  “Kayla, what are you doing out of bed?” Cherry calls out in alarm.

  “Luke…where is he?”

  Several other brothers join Cherry. “Do you know where Luke’s gone?” She asks them.

  “I think he’s gone,” one replies.

  “Naw, he’s still in the shop,” another brother clarifies.

  “Tell him,” Kayla begins. “Tell him his old lady wants him. Tell him I’m putting the patch back on his cut and he’d better get his sorry ass over her before I fall over.”

  “Yes ma’am,” a brother replies, and then turns and takes off in search of their president.

  Kayla turns to go, then stops. She addresses Cherry. “Can somebody get me a needle and thread?” She asks holding up Luke’s cut.