“So what’s the plan?” he asks.
“My dad reckons the longer we don’t hear from Hopper, the longer he’ll keep Leo alive. Where would we take an enemy if we truly wanted to make him suffer?”
Both of them say simultaneously, “The basement at the club.” With wicked grins on their faces.
“I think Hopper’s taking him back to his clubhouse. I could be wrong, but I can’t think of anywhere else.”
“Is Zach not coming with us?” Mason asks.
“I haven’t called him. If a call does come and we’re in the wrong direction, he can join up with Dad and Cas. Besides, we’re more than capable of handling this. He’s better off with his mom at the moment.”
“It ain’t right though, when our dad was taken out, we didn’t cry at home with our mom,” Myles says.
“Don’t be an asshole, you know Zach, he probably hasn’t shed a tear.”
We set off and I bring up the route from memory. It’s going to take us a couple of days to get there, but I’m more than ready for a numb ass and sore back. The adrenaline kicks in as we ride out of town and there’s nothing but a dark sky and an open road in front of us.
Night turns to morning and the sun rises on the horizon five hours after we left Willow’s Peak.
I signal to pull over at the next gas station. We’ll have time to fill our tanks and have a quick smoke. Traffic has been light, and we’ve made good time so far. I keep fearing the worst, that we will be slowed down by moron drivers and traffic and it’s yet to become reality.
Once our tanks are filled and each of us have been for a piss, we light a cigarette yet none of us talk. We know what’s to come and we’re not in the mood to dissect it. It’s one of the good things about the twins. They don’t need to hear a plan a hundred times. They listen, take it in, and store it to memory.
Mason nudges my arm and nods toward a van pulling into the rest area. Nothing is out of the ordinary, but I keep watch. The engine cuts off but no one gets out. Plenty of people stop for a break and top up their gas but sometimes certain people stop and want a fight.
“What about it?” I ask him wanting to know what he is thinking.
“Don’t know, but the guy driving made a point not to stare.”
“People stare when we’re on the road, brother,” Myles points out when I frown.
“Nah, it set something off…” The side door opens and like it’s in slow motion, men jump out, guns in their hands, coming straight for us.
Dashing the cigarette, I go for my gun and by the time I get behind my bike, Mason has taken cover behind a car and Myles stands openly and lets off the first round of shots. Mason and I join in, and they scatter taking their own cover. Women’s shrieks fill my ears and children’s cries. They return fire and I risk looking over to Mason.
“We need to get out of here! The cops will be here in no time!”
“The only way that’s gonna happen is if we don’t give a fuck and jump out and shoot until we’re out of ammo!”
Taking the deepest breath of my life, I nod, and it all goes quiet.
“Unless you want your brother to die, put down your guns!”
Mason’s head pops his head up over the car, and he drops his gun without hesitation.
Looking over the top of my bike, one of them have a gun to Myles’s head.
“Jay, shoot him!” Myles hollers.
“Do it and he fuckin’ dies!”
I keep my aim and the fucker stands, hiding behind Myles. How the fuck did he get to him?
“Jay, put your fuckin’ gun down,” Mason warns.
Police sirens mask the screams and cars starting to get the hell out of danger.
“Fuck!” I bellow.
