by Evelyn Glass
Jules walked out of the clubhouse and straight to his bike. He had stirred the shit enough already today and the best thing for the club would be for him to get the hell away from there for a while. Fish was probably right: Todd shooting the kids would have stirred up an even bigger shit storm, but he hadn’t, so now Jules was the bad guy.
Jules looked at the time on his phone. It was just past four. He smiled at the thought of Rachel. I’m going to go for a ride and clear my head. See if the road provides some clarity. It did once. Maybe it will again. Jules thumbed the bike to life and motored away, the big V-Twin crooning the classic Harley sound.
I used to be so sure that Forsaken 99 was right for me. But Todd is right. I have been pushing back. It seems the club is going in the wrong direction. We’re doing more good things than ever, but we are doing more bad things, too. Could it be me affecting me? Jules wondered as he danced the bike along the back roads around Vallecito. Look how I treated Vicky. Have I become that callous? Or have I always been that way?
Jules was still lost in his thoughts when he passed a plain white Chevrolet Tahoe. He didn’t notice that the Tahoe had turned around until the short whoop of its siren caught his attention. He looked in the rearview mirror and could see the blue lights flashing in the grille of the hard-charging SUV. With a sigh, Jules slowed to a stop on the side of the road.
“I’m armed, officer Schneider,” Jules said as the ICE officer walked up beside him.
“I know, Jules,” the small strawberry-blonde woman said. She was dressed in her normal attire: blue jeans, western style shirt with the top two buttons open, cowboy boots, and her badge hanging on her belt beside her sidearm.
“Are you going to check my papers?” Jules asked. Officer Rian Schneider and him were old… friends.
“It’s not your papers I’m interested in, Jules; you know that.” The Immigration and Customs Enforcement officer said suggestively. “What I’m interested in is a couple of dead Mexican nationals discovered just across the border. They were shot – execution style: one bullet to the back of the head. Know anything about that?”
“No. Not my concern what happens on the other side of the border.”
“Funny thing is, Jules, there were a lot of tracks. Looked like there were a couple of vehicles there, something with dual rear wheels, and another vehicle with off-road tires. And there were a lot of foot prints. But there wasn’t a lot of blood. Like maybe the bodies had been shot somewhere else then dumped there. Any of that ring a bell?”
“Nope. Should it?” Jules smiled. Schneider was fishing, and they both knew it. She knew the score, but she had no proof. They had performed this dance many times in the past three years. It had almost become a game – a deadly game for Jules and Forsaken 99, but a game nonetheless.
Officer Schneider stepped in just a bit closer and took a semi-sexy pose. “You know, Jules, I could make this worth your time. We know Forsaken 99 is performing illegal interceptions of drugs and Mexican nationals. If you were to cooperate, I could see that you walk. I could help you cut a deal with the DEA. They’re not as nice as I am.”
“Why haven’t you busted us, then, if we are doing something illegal?”
“In due time, Jules… in due time. I’m just trying to make it easy on you. You know, as a friend. I don’t want to see you get hurt. You might get that handsome face messed up in prison. That would be a real shame.”
“You know what they say about friends like you?”
“I’m not your enemy, Jules. I’m trying to help you.”
“By having me rat out my club? It’s not going to happen. If there were anything to rat them out over, that is.”
Schneider smiled, and it wasn’t a particularly nice smile. “Play it your way, but don’t wait too long. One day I may decide you don’t want to be my friend anymore and I may no longer feel like helping you.”
“I’ll think about it. In the meantime, why don’t you go back to your office in El Paso and wait by the phone for my call.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” she asked. “I’m beginning to think you don’t like me.”
“Whatever gave you that idea?”
Schneider’s nasty smile grew even wider. “I’ll be seeing you around,” she said before she turned and strode back to her vehicle.
Jules didn’t move until the Tahoe turned around and proceeded in the direction it had been traveling before they passed. He stood his bike upright as it rumbled to life. Every time he talked to that woman, he felt like he needed a shower.
***
Jules sauntered into He’s Not Here about six-thirty, just before the big crush normally hit. After his little chat with officer Schneider, he had started to return home, but on the way, he decided that he would stop by HNH for a burger and a beer. He wanted to delay the voices as long as possible, and being around people helped.
He settled in the small two-person booth in the back corner and waited for Angie to get freed up enough to take his order. He didn’t even bother with the menu.
“What’ll you have?” Angie asked as she swished up.
“Bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a Hefeweizen.”
“Comin’ right up, sugar.”
A moment later, his craft beer was delivered by the owner herself. She sat the beer down in front of him. “You’re not avoiding me, are you?” Rachel asked.
“No! Of course not. Why do you ask?”
“Normally you sit at the bar. And after this afternoon…”
Jules smiled. “No. Angie is rustling me up a burger, that’s all. And about this afternoon… that was the best part of my day.” Jules paused for effect. “The kiss wasn’t bad either,” he said softly.
Rachel giggled. “You flirt. I have to get back to the bar.”
“I’ll come up there after I eat.”
“See that you do.”
***
“Tough day?” Rachel asked as Jules plopped down at the bar.
He snickered. “Yeah. You could say that. I wasn’t kidding when I said that helping you this morning was the best part of my day. After I left here, I rode out to where you said you saw the kids. I didn’t have anything better to do and I wanted to check it out. I found where they had been stuck. Something about the whole thing just didn’t feel right. You could tell that they wrecked the trucks getting unstuck. While I was standing there, I got a call from Mr. Washington. One of his hands had caught some kids in a truck tearing up his land.”
“There’s more, isn’t there? Drugs?”
“Yeah. The Andres Cartel must be getting desperate to send kids out with the drugs. Not one of them was over seventeen. The youngest was probably fifteen… maybe fourteen. They had sixty keys of Colombia’s finest… uncut.”
Rachel blanched. She knew what happened to drug runners. “Did you…?”
“No. We talked about it then let them go. Doing otherwise is a bridge too far.”
She had been a bartender long enough to know when there was more to a story, but, once again, she held her questions. Jules seemed fragile tonight. “That’s good. Killing kids… Shit. Don’t move. I’ll be right back,” she said moving away as Angie stepped up to the bar and signaled another order.
As she filled the drink orders, Rachel kept an eye on Jules as he stared at the beer he was gently spinning the bar. The darkness that had eased a little this morning was back, and darker than ever.
“So you woke up with a hangover and you busted some kids running drugs. Sounds like you had a pretty full day.”
“You left out the part of being hassled by ICE.”
“Immigration? Why?”
“Some Coyotes were killed last week. Their bodies had been found in Mexico. She wanted to know if I knew anything about it.”
“But you don’t, of course,” she smiled.
“That’s right. Why would have any idea about a couple of dead bodies found in Mexico?”
“Why, indeed?” She looked up as a couple of men sat down at the bar, and an
other couple was coming through the door. It was about to get busy. She patted Jules on the hand. “I gotta go. But if you need anything, let me know, okay? Either a refill… or just a sympathetic ear.” She smiled at him then gave his hand a squeeze and moved off.
As she worked the bar, she kept an eye on Jules as he slowly sipped his beer. Sometimes he watched her, other times he stared into his beer. She wished she could do more to help him. He seemed like such a nice guy.
“You want another?” she asked when his mug was low.
“No. I think I’m good.” He said standing up.
“You okay to ride?”
“Yeah. I can handle a couple of beers.”
“Do me a favor, okay?”
“If I can.”
“Don’t drink alone tonight.”
Jules smiled. “Yes, mother.”
“Jules… I’m serious. Something is bothering you. I can tell. I worry about you.”
He looked at her a moment, then smiled. A real smile. “I promise.”
It was her turn to smile. “Thank you.”
“I have to go, but I forgot to tell you, Forsaken 99 will meet your brother in El Paso if you will give us the date and time.”
Her smile grew until she beamed. “That’s wonderful, Jules! Thank you so much. I really appreciate that. Thank the guys in the club for me, okay?”
“I will. We’re glad to do it.”
Rachel glanced down the bar and held a finger up to a customer. “I have to go.” She started to turn away, but then turned back. “Join me for dinner some night? I’ll cook.”
“Thank you, Rachel, but you don’t have to do that. We’re honored to escort your—”
“That’s not why I’m asking.”
“Why, then?”
“Because I get tired of eating by myself. Don’t you?”
He paused a moment. “Yeah. I do.”
“Okay. It’s settled then. We’ll work out the details later.”
“If you’re sure.”
“What? Are you worried that I will take advantage of you? Don’t worry. I will be the perfect lady.” She grinned at him, turned, and hurried to her waiting customers.
Jules snorted out an abbreviated laugh, looked at his tab, and dropped some bills on the bar. As he walked out he glanced at Rachel as she moved with fluid grace behind the bar. I’m not sure I would mind if she took advantage of me.
***
“Sergeant Rivera!”
“First Sergeant,” Jules said as he saluted the approaching man.
“Are we ready to roll?”
“Awaiting your orders, First Sergeant.”
“Have the troops mount up. The convoy is forming up. Standard formation. The Lieutenant is ready to rock and roll.”
“Yes, First Sergeant.” Jules saluted and turned to carry out his orders. “Jules,” First Sergeant Bryant said. “You did a good thing there, today.”
“First Sergeant?” Jules asked as he turned back to his commanding officer.
“The kids, Jules, the kids. When I wanted to shoot the kids, you stopped me. That was a good thing. It’s a good thing you survived or those kids would be dead today.”
“Kids, First Sergeant?”
First Sergeant Bryant sighed in exasperation. “Today? When you pulled the gun on me? Don’t you remember?”
“That wasn’t—”
“No. But you pulled a gun on your superior. President. Platoon Sergeant. Same thing.”
“I would never pull my gun on you, First Sergeant!” Jules protested. First Sergeant Bryant had been a great mentor for him and Jules liked him.
“When I pull stupid shit like that, you damn well should. Its times like this that I’m glad you survived.”
Jules felt a chill fall over him. It was as if he had stepped into a freezer. “I didn’t know what to do. When I couldn’t contact you or Lieutenant Scott…”
“Sergeant Rivera… when the IED took out my Hummer, you stepped in and took charge. When the shit is hitting the fan, nobody knows what to do. Not me. Not Lieutenant Scott, not Captain Cruz, not Major Cory. You adapt and overcome. That’s all you can do.”
“But I didn’t overcome. Everyone died.”
“Everyone but you. Sergeant… I believe we are all put on this earth for a reason. Maybe yours was to save those kids today. Maybe yours is to make sure that Forsaken 99 doesn’t go dark… that they continue to follow the path of light. But one thing is certain, if you had died that day, those kids would be dead now, too. It’s okay to grieve, Sergeant, but life goes on. We all have our bit to play in this life. We have played our parts. Now it up to you to play yours.”
Jules sat up in bed. As his dream bled away he thought of Second Platoon. He smiled sadly as he remembered First Sergeant Donnie Bryant. He was a good man. They were all good men and women. And now… they were all dead.
Jules flopped back into his bed and sighed as he stared into the darkness, thinking. He had been a tireless recruiter for Forsaken 99. He had planned on trying to recruit Rachel’s brother. But after what happened today, he wasn’t sure bringing anyone else into the club was such a good idea. They used to be the good guys, the guys in the clean white hats and silver plated guns. But now? Now… he wasn’t so sure.
Chapter Eight
Jules hissed in pain as he stared at his face in the mirror in his bathroom and dabbed at the abrasion with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball. He had trailered his quad-bike out into Big Bend Park and spent the morning riding, up until he crashed it.
He had felt totally out of sorts all day yesterday, and woke up feeling the same way today. Rather than sit at home and mope, he had decided to go burn off some energy and try to find some…spark. Something, anything to drag him out of this depression he could feel himself slipping into. He had kept pushing the quad harder and harder, looking for some feeling – fear, excitement, he didn’t care. He kept riding closer and closer to the edge – until he fell off. It was stupid what he was doing, and he knew it, but he didn’t care. He should have died five years ago anyway. Then he had misjudged a turn and had gone ass first into the weeds along the side of the road.
Now his quad was busted up and so was he, but it could have been worse. After he picked himself up and got his quad back on its wheels, he thought he was going to have to walk out when the quad refused to start. Then he discovered the dislodged spark plug wire. When he put that back on, it finally started back up. He had obviously bent something, so what should have been a twenty-minute ride to the truck was over an hour... but it would have been an eight-hour walk. Eight hours of walking in this heat, and with no water, would have been no laughing matter.
With his cuts and scrapes cleaned and bandaged, Jules sat on his bed and looked at his knee. No bruising yet, but it hurt like a motherfucker. That knee must have been the first thing that hit the ground and, with the way it felt, he must have landed with all his weight on it. Then the quad landed on him.
He was still sitting on the bed, flexing the knee and thinking evil thoughts, when his cell rang. Surprised it still worked, he picked up and looked at the display. “Hey, Fish.”
“Jules. Where you been man? I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“I was out on the quad. I didn’t hear the phone. What’s up?”
“You need to get out to the clubhouse. You’re the only one not here. We’re celebrating Memorial Day… just the members and their old ladies.”
“I don’t know, Fish. Maybe I should—”
“Maybe you should get your ass on your bike and get out here. Show the rest of the club that we’re still a family.”
***
Jules grimaced as he swung his leg over the bike. He had showered and taken some Tylenol for the coming soreness, but he could feel himself stiffening up already. I wanted to feel something. Well, I feel something now.
“Glad you could make it,” Fish said taking Jules into a black-slapping embrace. “Looks like you’re moving kinda slow there, brother. What happened?”
“I was being stupid. Riding too fast. I couldn’t make a turn, ran off the road and—”
“Were you alone?”
“Yeah.”
“You know people can die like that, right? Riding alone in the desert.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Fish pulled Jules to a stop before they got close enough for the others to overhear. “Jules… look, man… you’ve got to get over this, okay? You’re tearing yourself apart. Getting yourself killed helps no one. And we need you. Forsaken 99 needs you. Nobody else would have had the guts to do what you did Saturday.”