Nine
Later that same night…
The lightsinside the diner shone like a beacon, but Brick got a bad vibe when he drove into the empty parking lot. No one was visible in the windows. No jukebox was playing. The silence was eerie. Brick pulled his bike around the back, and his headlight flashed across a tarp lying over something. Brick’s stomach plummeted at its shape.
“Fuck, no.” Too much had already happened tonight. He’d lost his father and perhaps his club. He dismounted and leaned the bike on its stand. His feet were heavy as he approached the tarp-covered body. Not Betsey. Please, God, not Betsey. Brick forced his fear down, reached a shaky hand to the tarp, and pulled it down far enough to reveal Moses’s face. The dead man’s eyes were still open and starting to fog. Brick closed them with two fingers and put the tarp back. His head was full of mixed emotions. Relief the body wasn’t Betsey’s. Sorrow that Moses was dead. Worry that Betsey was missing. Anger at whoever shot this gentle man.
A twig snapped, and Brick was on his feet in an instant. The only light behind the diner was the bare yellow bug bulb above the door. It did very little to pierce the dark. He didn’t have a gun or any weapon other than his pocketknife, but still he was prepared to fight whoever came around the corner of the building.
“Brick? It’s Taz. I saw you go by the medical center and figured you were comin’ here. Cops got enough on their plate tonight, they didn’t take me in. I gotta go to the station tomorrow mornin’ though. Hey, I got news, man.”
Taz’s tall form showed up in the dim light. “Damn. That’s Moses, isn’t it?”
Brick nodded as he answered. “Yeah, it is. Where’s Betsey?”
“She’s at the clinic with some kid. She’s okay, but her face is pretty messed up. Said Deuce punched her and shot Moses. Tambre is there now with them an’ Bear an’ Bugs. They’re gonna be fine. Doc Holbrook is patching up everyone and keeping Doc Swaim out of it. He says he’ll be cool with keepin’ everythin’ quiet. I don’t know whether to trust him or not, but we ain’t got a whole lotta choices. Every cop in Bryson City headed to the clubhouse. What’s the plan now?”
Brick always thought anger was hot, but what bubbled up in his gut was beyond anger. This was beyond rage. This was an arctic fury that burned so cold it left blisters.
“Deuce put his hands on Betsey? My Betsey?” He met the eyes of his friend, and for the first time in his life, he saw fear in them. Fear of him.
“Fuck, Brick.”
Brick stood up. There was a power in him. It flowed and seethed through his body. His hands tightened into fists that brought pain. He couldn’t go to Betsey like this. He would scare her off in a heartbeat. There was only one place he could take this berserker rage. “Where is he?” Brick didn’t recognize his own voice. The sound of it was low, sinister, and full of the promise of retribution.
Taz backed away from his friend, and Brick saw him swallow. “I saw him a while ago, ridin’ east. I ’spect he went to his daddy’s house to get his stuff, probably the money we been lookin’ for, but I’d bet my eyeteeth he’ll make a run on the Tail. His people are in Tennessee, and that’s the only place he’s got left to go.”
Brick mounted his bike. Taz followed. “What are you gonna do?”
Brick grinned and watched Taz stumble back from the sight. “What do you think? I’m a goddamn Dragon Runner. The Dragon is awake and huntin’.”