SAVAGE ROAD - Layne & Shelby by Ana W. Fawkes Page A

s my best friend. ”
    I looked back. There were more guys
running toward the scene.
    I took Jack by the hand. “ Can you hear me? ”
    Jack ’ s
mouth tried to move. His eyes were already glossy. His head moved to the right,
looking at the road.
    “ Jack, ” I said. “ Did you know who they were? ”
    His mouth was still moving, nothing
happening. Then blood started to seep from his mouth.
    My stomach flipped. My blood ran
cold.
    I looked at Michael. “ Did you know who …”
    “ No
idea, ” Michael said. “ Didn ’ t get a good look though. ” He glanced back down to Jack. “ Please, man, just hang on. Just … for me …”
    Jack turned his head and stared at
Michael.
    I squeezed Jack ’ s hand. “ Let me call for help. Okay? Keep breathing, Jack.
It ’ s not …”
    Jack ’ s
head fell to the left.
    Dead.
    Jack ’ s
grip lessened on my hand. I then stood up and stepped back. I bumped into
something, someone. I spun and swung, my hand slapping someone ’ s face.
    It was a patched in member - Blaze.
    He grabbed my wrists and spun me
around. He slammed me against the gate.
    “ What
the fuck is wrong with you? ” he growled.
    “ Yo,
bro, ” another voice said.
It was Jet. “ That ’ s Layne ’ s old lady. Take it easy. ”
    Layne ’ s old lady?
    Is that what people thought?
    Before Blaze could do anything
else, I lifted my knee to his balls. That made him let me go. I slipped away
and started to run toward the clubhouse. I looked back, expecting to see Blaze
or someone else chasing me.
    But I was alone.
    At the clubhouse door, I stopped
and thought for a second.
    A black car rolled up, shot a
prospect, then sped away.
    I looked in the direction the car
had gone.
    It made me wonder what direction
Layne had been going.
    And, again, my stomach was fucking
sick.
    It was going to be a bad day.
     

14.
     
    (Layne)
     
    It was a complete shithole. From
the large wooden structure that was their bar, right down to the stack of
motorcycles, junk, trailers, and other shit everywhere. They didn ’ t have a compound. They were
tucked away in the woods of northern California like a bad kept secret.
    We went from pavement to rocky
gravel and then into the dirt.
    I had to admit it … the ride really made it all
scary.
    There were two of them standing at
the main part of compound by a large, crooked, and rusty gate. The guys had to
weigh over three hundred pounds, and they looked nothing short of a chunk of
muscle with eyes. They had long, black beards, long, black hair, and were
filthy. They smelled like death and spit at the ground when we approached, leaving
big globs of chew on the ground.
    “ The
fuck you want? ” one of them
growled.
    “ You
know who I am? ” I asked.
    “ Bitch
patch says President. Your mother sew that on for you? ”
    “ No, ” I said. “ But maybe yours did. She a bitch like you? Guarding
a broken gate? ”
    The guy stepped at me.
    I wasn ’ t afraid of him. I didn ’ t give a shit about their size. Hell, I was almost
matched to them.
    The second guy grabbed the first
one ’ s arm and pulled. He
then reached over the gate and lifted a shotgun. He pumped the chamber with one
hand and pointed it right at me.
    “ Get
the fuck out, ” he spat.
    “ Shoot
me, ” I said. “ You tried yesterday but missed. ” I nodded to my shoulder. “ Are you all that bad of a shot? ”
    “ Let
me crush his head, ” the
first guy said.
    That ’ s
when Finn stepped forward and punched the guy right square in the nose. The big
guy collapsed like an empty glass in the wind. The second guy took his eyes off
me for a second so I grabbed the shotgun. I twisted it out of his hands and
pointed it at him. His eyes went wide. He shook his head.
    “ Last
words? ” I asked.
    “ Go
fuck yourself. And your mother. ”
    I pulled the trigger and he flew
back into the gate. He went backwards over the gate and managed to bump the
latch, opening it. The first guy was on the ground, holding his face.
    “