Page 114 of The Oath We Take

“Get cover,” I yell, jumping off my bike. I grab Butcher underneath both arms and drag him back into the clubhouse.

I see Wraith and Grudge ducking behind a truck, and Jackal boosting Shade onto the roof of one of the outbuildings.

Multiple assailants make their way over the land. One of them throws the body of one of our prospects, who was guarding the gate, to the ground.

And of everything I could do to help, my first thought is to call Ember and warn her, but the blood drains from my face when I lift my phone and see her message.

Ember:I just saw the flash of a laser sight pointing into the kitchen.

She sent it while I was talking with Catfish in the armory where we don’t get any signal.

I dial her number, and it takes what feels like a lifetime but is actually only a few seconds for her to answer.

“They’re following me,” she says, her voice ripe with fear.

“Where are you?”

“On Lemmy. I stopped to answer but need to go soon. I think they have dirt bikes or ATVs or something.”

I think through all the scenarios at rapid speed, but it’s the two weaponized vehicles headed up the dirt trail from the gate to the clubhouse that decide for me. She can’t come here, unescorted, not when we’re under fire. “Head to the river and follow it from there. I’ll ride toward you.”

“Hurry,” she says. “I need to go.”

“They’re going after Ember,” I say to Butcher. “I’m going to get her.”

“What?” Butcher says.

“You heard me. They’ve got Ember in their crosshairs.”

“I’m coming with.”

“Not with a bullet wound you’re not.”

“Fuck you. She might be your old lady, but she’s still my daughter. I’m right behind you.”

“Wraith,” I yell as I run back outside to where we parked the bikes. “They’re on to Ember. I’m gonna follow the river down the rear of the property. Told Em to ride towards us. Give me cover. Wrap this up. Kill every fucker.”

“On it,” Wraith says, and bullets are the soundtrack to my footsteps as I climb on my bike.

They say people can do the most Herculean things when driven by adrenaline, and I believe that as I dodge bullets to push the bike to do speeds it’s never done.

Screw formation. I’m ahead of Butcher.

All that matters is Ember.

I wish I were wearing the helmet I could pair with my phone so I could speak to her. I wish I’d thought to put security cameras around the property in the middle of the land. And I sure as fuck wish I’d put some kind of small utility vehicle or bolt hole or hiding place in and around the property just beyond the rocky inroad.

Lemmy will take care of her.

Smoke and dust fly up from my rear wheel as I careen onto the side road that leads up behind the clubhouse. Don’t envy Butcher riding through it, but I can’t slow down to worry about that.

My headlight illuminates the end of the road, where it opens out into a seating area by the river, but I bank hard left and run parallel to the flowing water.

I get jostled, tossed around as the bike tears up part of the pasture. My bones ache as the bike’s suspension does little to overcome the hardness of the ground.

Butcher’s headlight appears in my mirror, equally unconcerned with the damage we are doing to both land and bikes.

Both of us on a single mission.

---