Page 31 of Mystic's Sunrise

We rolled down, engines snarling low as we crested a bend in the road.

That’s when we saw it.

An old station wagon, half-buried in the ditch, smoke curling from the hood. Spray-painted across the rusted side in fresh, blood-red letters: DFMC

Thunder killed his engine first. “Jesus. These assholes want us to find this.”

Chain pulled alongside me, kicking down his stand. “Looks that fuckin’ way.”

“You bet you’re ass they do,” I muttered, scanning the dark tree line automatically. “Those bastards are tryin’ to pull some shit.”

I dismounted, boots hitting the gravel with a dull crunch.

The station wagon was torched from the inside out, glass spiderwebbed and blackened.

No bodies.

No blood.

Just a message.

I stepped closer, drawn by something colder than rage, something deeper.

That’s when I saw him.

A shadow between the trees. Low. Moving careful. Wrong kind of careful. I froze, blood icing over.

Scout.

Watching us.

My hand dropped to the Glock at my hip, instincts firing before thought caught up.

Thunder saw it too. “Movement—three o’clock,” he muttered under his breath, voice tight.

Chain shifted, reaching for his weapon, but I was already moving.

Fast.

Silent.

I broke from the road, boots finding purchase in the loose dirt, heart hammering against my ribs. Branches clawed at my arms as I cut into the trees.

The shadow darted deeper into the woods, fast as a snake.

Motherfucker was baiting us.

I pushed harder, lungs burning, tunnel-vision locked on the figure slipping between the trees. For a heartbeat, it felt good, the rush, the focus, the rage with teeth. Until a second figure peeled off the dark further out—another one.

Shit.

Trap.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here!” Chain barked behind me, voice urgent, iron hard. “Now, Mystic!”

I skidded to a halt, boots digging in. I stood there for a second longer than I should have, breathing hard, gun still drawn.

Chain caught up, grabbing my shoulder and yanking me half a step back toward the bikes. “Not here, brother,” he growled low. “Not tonight. Who knows what the fuck they were leadin’ us into.”

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