by Harley Fox
“Jake?” I hear a voice over the sound of the alarm.
I spin around, ready to drop the extinguisher and grab hold of my gun, but instead I see Merryn standing back from the garage entrance, one arm over her face to protect her from the smoke. She’s dressed now and I walk over to her, adrenaline still pumping through my veins.
“What happened?” Merryn has to yell as I reach her.
“Bullets,” I say. Anger is bubbling up through me and making my head hurt. A deep, tainted rage eats away at me. Those fuckers have to pay. “They tried torching my garage.”
“Oh my God,” she says. I put the extinguisher down. The alarm is blaring in my ears. The cops are going to be here any minute. I have to leave now.
I start to walk past Merryn but she grabs my arm and stops me.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“They have to pay,” I tell her, making my voice as level as I can. “Those Bullet fuckers have to pay for this.”
I try turning away but Merryn doesn’t let go. My eyes burn as I glare at her.
“What are you going to do?” she asks. She looks scared but she’s looking me in the eye.
“What do you think I’m going to do?” I snarl. “I’m going to kill them.”
Wrenching my arm away, I quickly walk to the apartment, hearing her follow behind me. Once inside I vault up the stairs and reach the living room only to find Emily out of her room, wearing a t-shirt and pajama pants and looking as scared as Merryn did.
“What’s going on?”
“Go back to bed,” I say to her as I walk to the phone. Merryn appears at the top of the stairs as I’m dialing Sal’s number.
“Merryn, what happened?” Emily asks, but I wheel on her.
“EMILY! GO BACK TO BED!”
“Jake!” Merryn says, giving me a shocked look. Emily looks like I just slapped her in the face and Merryn walks over to her. The phone is ringing in my ear.
“It’s okay,” Merryn says to Emily. The phone keeps ringing and I see Emily glare at me while Merryn tells her what happened. A click in my ear makes me turn away from the girls.
“Who the fuck is this?” says Sal’s sleepy voice.
“Sal, it’s Jake.”
I hear the urgency in my voice and Sal must hear it too because the next thing he says is, “Jake? What is it?”
“Bullets attacked my garage. Molotovs. I put it out, but they got away. Shot both of them. One in the shoulder, one in the hand.”
Emily says, behind me: “You shot someone?” but I ignore her.
“Jesus Christ,” says Sal.
“We have to get them. Now,” I say.
“Okay, okay. Where?”
“Probably the warehouse,” I say.
“Right. Yeah.”
“Call the others, I’ll meet you there.”
“Okay.”
“And Sal?” Silence. “Bring guns.”
I hear him swallow on the other end.
“Be careful,” he says, and I hang up. When I turn back Merryn and Emily are both staring at me aghast.
“Jake, what are you going to do?” Emily asks me.
“Emily, you really should get back to bed,” I say to her as I stride forward to grab my jacket.
“Don’t go,” she says. I put my leather armor on, sliding my arms in, pulling it down close to me.
“Merryn,” I say as I drop down to tighten my boot laces, “the cops are going to come for the alarm. Tell them it was an accident, that I was drunk and started the fire and stumbled off. The security code—”
“I’m coming with you,” she cuts me off. I pause a moment, then stand up to look at her. She’s staring right back at me.
“No, you’re not,” I say to her, but she shakes her head.
“They’re doing this because of me, Jake. I’m coming. Besides, you’re going to need all the help you can get.”
“Merryn, this isn’t a game.”
“I know that. And I’m still coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
Her eyes are all fire and life, and I chew back my anger before saying, “Fine.” I turn to my sister instead. “Emily, the cops are coming—”
“I got it,” she says. “Just go if you’re going already.”
I look at her and she looks at me right back. Then I give her a smile.
“Thanks,” I say, and she nods in return. I speed down the stairs with Merryn following, and at the bottom I dig my keys out of my pocket. Then I turn around and toss them to Merryn.
“Here, start it,” I say. “I’ll be right back.”
She catches them and I run over to the garage where the smoke is just starting to clear. Up to the cupboards I fling one open and pull out what I put there just yesterday morning: a shotgun, courtesy of the Slingers. I crack it open and see two fresh shells, just waiting to be used.
Sweet justice.
Snapping it back together I bring it with me to the idling bike. She stares at the piece but I swing my leg over and sit in front of her. Her hands grab onto me but I place the gun in them instead.
“Hold onto this,” I say, and she does, keeping it pulled tight against my body, both barrels pointing up to the sky. I kick the bike into life and grab the handles, peeling away.
We break out into the open street where it’s devoid of life. Middle of the night and the slick asphalt is all ours. The engine revs louder as I urge the bike along faster. Merryn pulls herself closer as she holds on for dear life. We whip down street after street, the surrounding area becoming more and more industrial until finally, up ahead, there it is.
A big, broken-down shell of a building sits in the middle of a dusty lot, and everybody knows that you’re not supposed to come here unless you’re invited or else severely lost. Past the chain link fence sits discarded debris, spotting the sandy dirt. Turned-over dumpsters and piles of refuse, old tires and empty wooden boxes. Off to the side I see bikes, two dozen of them, lined up inside along the edge of the fence. I slow my bike to a stop and kill the engine. No other Chains are here.
I put my feet down and walk the bike back into the shadow of another building. Then I stop. I feel Merryn’s shaky breathing against the back of my neck. Grabbing onto the shotgun I feel her let go. The weight of it feels good in my hands.
“Where are we?” she whispers.
“Bullet headquarters. Those bikes there are all theirs.”
I reach back between us and take out my gun from before. Releasing the clip, I let it drop to the ground before reaching into one of my bike pouches and pulling out a new one. I slide it in place and cock the gun. Then I put it back in my jeans and take my other gun out from the pouch. It’s already loaded and I turn around, handing it to Merryn.
“Here, you’re going to need this.”
She takes the gun in silence, looking at it like it’s a bomb.
“There are twelve rounds,” I say in a whisper. “And the safety’s off, so be careful.”
I see her swallow. She looks up in the dim light and I see the shimmering of her eyes. Leaning down, I press my lips to hers and we kiss. I don’t want it to end but the sound of approaching engines makes us break it off.
We both look down the street and see Sal and about a half-dozen others appear from around the corner. They spot us and pull off the street, over to where we’re hiding. They kill their engines one by one as Sal moves his bike over to beside us. His eyes linger on Merryn before he looks at me.
“You brought her here?” he says in a low voice.
“Wasn’t my idea,” I growl. Sal gives Merryn another look and then nods before looking at the warehouse.
“More are coming,” he says.
“We shouldn’t wait,” I tell him. “They must know we’re here.”
Sal waits a moment before giving a nod.
“The front?” he asks, and I nod. Sal watches the warehouse a moment longer and then turns to the group. “We’re going in.”
“Now?”
“But the
others—”
“We’re sitting ducks out here. The others will join.”
“If we haven’t finished them off already,” somebody says, followed by nervous laughter.
Sal turns back to me. “Ready?” he says.
I take a deep breath and let it out. Then I nod.
All of us put down our kickstands and leave the bikes, walking out of the shadows to the front of the gate. Sal is in front and I’m just behind. Merryn walks beside me, holding the gun with both of her hands. The shotgun’s by my side, pointing downwards. My heart has never beat faster in my life than it is right now.
We step past the chain link fence onto dry dirt. Large double doors stand open in the warehouse and on the ground in front of them I see two dotted trails of blood. We’re silent, all of us. I can feel the Bullets waiting on the other side of this wall. Sal stops ten yards from the door, off to the side, and we all stop with him. He looks back at me and I see the fear and resilience in his eyes. Then he calls out:
“Bullets! We know you’re in there!”
A moment of tense silence, so thick you could cut it with a knife. A voice calls back in a playful tone:
“Who is it?”
“You know who the fuck it is!” Sal yells. “We’re out here with guns and there are more of us coming!”
“Oh, is that you, Sal?” the voice taunts. “I’m afraid you caught us in the middle of dinner!”
This is ridiculous.
“Bullets!” I yell out. “You tried to burn down my shop! I already shot the guys who did it, and now I’m here to finish the job!”
Titters of laughter from two dozen voices.
“Oh yeah, nice aim by the way,” comes another voice. Merryn, beside me, looks confused. “You know, my shoulder and my head are not the same thing.”
“Bullets!” Sal calls. “Come out and let’s settle this! If you don’t, then this situation is going to escalate to some very bad places!”
“Mmm, but we like it here, don’t we guys?”
More titters of laughter. I see Sal set his jaw.
“This may seem funny to you,” he says, “but right now you’re all trapped. And we’ve got some cans of gas and a few flares that can help us call this a night in under an hour.”
No laughter this time, but instead murmuring voices. My heart hammers in my chest.
“You’re bluffing,” the voice finally calls. “But you do have a good point. We’ll come out. But one gunshot from any of you before we talk and we’re taking out each and every one of you, followed by your families. You got that?”
“Nobody wants to get hurt,” Sal says. “Just come outside and let’s settle this like adults.”
Mutters from inside and then the sound of shoes scuffing against concrete.
“Here we come!”
Each of us raises our guns, Merryn following a second behind, and aim them at the door. I keep looking around for an ambush or a trap, or for God’s sake the rest of our gang.
But the Bullets come out just like they said, and with them come the Slingers. The Bullets’ leader saunters into our sights like he doesn’t have a care in the world. In the crowd I see the two guys who tried burning my shop, one cradling a limp hand, the other with a bloody shoulder. His blue dress shirt is soaked through.
This guy steps forward beside the leader, and I see him look right at me. He’s got a cocky smile on his face that fills me with rage.
“Well well well,” he says. “Fancy seeing you here.”
It’s then that I realize he’s not actually looking at me, but beside me. I turn my head and see Merryn staring at this man, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open.
“Oh my God,” Merryn says in a voice so low it’s almost a whisper. “Craig.”
Merryn
I stare at the man I once loved as he looks back at me. That cocky grin is back on his face and the spot on his shoulder is dark and bloody, but it doesn’t seem to bother him.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he says. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I see Jake looking at me, a bewildered expression on his face.
“Merryn, you know this guy?”
“Oh yeah, buddy, she knows me,” Craig says. “Better than most people do, if you catch my drift.”
I’m stunned. Speechless. I don’t know what to say. I have to force words out of my mouth.
“What … how?”
“Oh come on, Merryn, don’t be so fucking stupid,” Craig says, that grin of his fading. “What, did you think I wouldn’t come after you told me you’ve been kidnapped by one of the Chains?”
“What?” I finally snap out of my shock. “I never said that.”
“Over the phone, you said that Jakey-boy here was part of the Chains. A gang notorious for stealing women and children and generally fucking things up.”
The people around me rustle and threaten with their guns, but the Bullets do the exact same. The tension is heavy in the air, so heavy it’s difficult to breathe. But Craig raises a hand and the Bullets seem to settle down. He smiles again.
“When you told me you couldn’t get Jake’s shop from him I took it upon myself to come help you out. Now that the shop’s burned down the lease is fucking useless. And the building owner agreed to accidentally ‘lose’ Jake’s deposit so, uh, bye-bye Jake.”
I feel a swell of anger. And so, it seems, do the people around me.
“You’re a piece of shit,” I hear Scarlett call out.
“I put out the fire,” Jake tells him, and Craig’s grin drops. “My shop didn’t burn down. Your little plan failed.”
Now Craig is looking at Jake, and his mouth twists into an ugly look.
“Whatever,” he says. “After tonight it’ll all be over anyway. Can’t run a bike shop when you’re dead.” More rattling of guns on both sides, but Craig holds up his hand again. Things settle down. He turns to me. “But you, Merryn.” Craig softly shakes his head. “I’m very disappointed in you.”
“Huh?” I say, and that grin comes back full force.
“I honestly hoped you’d be dead by now. It would have taken care of a lot of problems, like having to fire you.” His words are like poison to my ears, but he keeps going. “But you know, now that I think about it, maybe you not being dead is a good thing. After all, I still want you one last time, and I’m not so much into fucking corpses.”
It happens before I realize it. A tongue of fire followed by a crack that splits the air and I see Jake’s shotgun reel back against his shoulder. But Craig seems to have anticipated it because like lightning he dodges the blast and the chest of the guy behind him explodes in a spray of blood. He falls to the ground, instantly dead, and then the air erupts with noise as the shoot-out begins.
Everybody moves but I stand frozen for a second, not sure, not able to comprehend. Jake knocks into my side and pushes me down behind some oil drums. My breath seems caught, unsure whether it should leave or come into my body. Jake peers around, still holding his shotgun, and I look at him. The sound around us is awful. I hear people screaming, yelling. I want to be anywhere but here, but Jake … Jake just looks ready.
The sound of footsteps running toward us and Jake suddenly stands up, firing the second shot of his shotgun. A deafening blast reaches my ears followed by the thump as something heavy hits the ground. Jake drops back down and tosses the shotgun away, then reaches behind him and takes out his other gun.
He turns to look at me. His expression is unreadable again, but something in his eyes connects us. He doesn’t say anything — and even if he did I’m not sure I would hear him — but then he gets up and joins the fight, leaving me to watch him disappear into the mass of bodies and blood.
Now I’m scared. I’m all alone. People all around me are dying. The sound of a struggle reaches my ears and I look over to see a Bullet and a Chain wrestling behind a stack of wooden crates. I recognize the member of the Chains from the bar. Alan. His name is Alan.
I shake my head. The Bullet
is on top with her hands wrapped around Alan’s throat, and even though he’s trying to roll them over she’s not moving. His face is slowly changing color, turning deep shades of red.
I suddenly remember the gun in my hands and I lift it up, pointing it at this woman. This all seems so real somehow. So strangely real and I have to shake my head and tell myself, This is real. This is really happening. If you shoot this woman, she’s going to die.
I don’t want to kill anyone. But if I don’t shoot her then Alan is going to die. His arms on her hands begin to fall and the woman’s face gleams with excitement. I raise my gun again, aiming it right at her. My finger is right on the trigger. It’s so close … but I can’t squeeze it. I can’t go through with this.
One of the wooden crates suddenly knocks into her as someone is thrown through them. She yells and tumbles down and Alan quickly recovers, coughing and twisting himself, rolling the woman off of him and landing on top of her. The crates have scattered and block my view, but I see her arms reach up and try to hit him as he holds down her throat. Reaching back with his free hand, he pulls a knife from his belt and sweeps it down and across.
I scream but it’s too late. Her arms shudder and then fall limp. Alan’s knife is bloody but he keeps it in his hand as he gets up and runs off somewhere else.
My eyes won’t blink. My breath is coming in in quick gasps. Rumbles of engines make me look over to see the rest of the Chains pull up on their bikes. They ride through the fence and directly into the fight, some knocking people over, others being shot or pulled off their bikes. The riderless machines swivel and crash down. The fight becomes thicker with more yells, more screams, more gunshots all around. Suddenly my hiding spot is surrounded by people and I know I have to leave.
I stand up and a gun fires, making me drop down to a half-crouch. I start running and spot the edge of the building. The fight seems to end short of that, so that’s where I head. I go as quickly as I can, avoiding bodies, bullet shells, pools of blood. My foot catches on something and I trip, sprawling face-first into the dirt. The gun in my hand skids across the ground, stopping mere feet from the edge of the building.
I turn around and see a bloody hand reaching out. I follow it up and see Scarlett, stretched on the ground, pleading with her eyes. Underneath her is a large and congealing pool of blood.