Page 122 of Stella
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Cash rubs his chin. “The fuckin’ blueprint is... the clubhouse?”
“What about the key?” I say. “Did they find anything?”
“Razor’s grave,” Cash mutters. “Turns out he was from some well-to-do family down the line who disowned him. Fuck knows how he got a plot at that particular City of the Dead.” He turns and meets Hutch’s eye.
“We gotta get everyone out,” Hutch says. “If the map is leading from Razor’s grave to here, there’s gotta be some connecti?—”
The sound is so loud, it’s earth shattering. The building shakes and everyone ducks. The lights flicker, and screams are heard loud and clear as the music stops.
Oh, my fucking god! Was that… was that a bomb?
“Fuck!” Cash grits, everyone’s drawing their guns and ducking at the same time. Cash grabs me, pushing me down.
I need a piece too, if the clubhouse is under attack, I need to be able to defend myself or get as many people out as possible.
Another sound rings through the building, and I fall sideways as the blast shatters the windows. I fall into Steel as he holds me up. “Duck,” he says. “Stay low and crawl on your knees, got me?”
I nod, fumbling for my phone.
I do as he says, trying to dial Cale. When he picks up, I’m frantic. “Cale? The clubhouse is under attack. A b-bomb went off, two, I think. Everything’s dark…”
“What?” he yells. “Stella?”
“Hurry!”
“I’m coming, baby girl. Hold on. I’m coming.”
I hang up and can’t see shit from the smoke and ash. Trying to use my phone flashlight, I cough as I keep moving out of the meeting room doors, but there’s rubble everywhere.
Then I spot Cash, he’s next to me. “If I don’t find D and Caprice before you do, it’s your job to keep them safe. Got me?” He hands me a gun. “We don’t know who’s out there, so be careful.”
I nod, though he can’t see me. “Yes, Prez.”
“Go!”
Cale
I call Willow. I can’t call my own fucking station, because who knows who is fucking trustworthy. But with a blast like what she described, it won’t be long before everyone is headed over here.
When I pull up, I see smoke billowing out of the clubhouse. One side of the building, opposite to the meeting room, has completely collapsed, and people are piling out of the front doors.
“Calli,” I tell my dog. “Stay close.”
I draw my gun, running toward the building. People are scattering left and right as I run in, the smoke and fumes clouding my eyesight.
I help a woman I don’t know out the front as she staggers, and I hear the ambulance sirens already.
I pick up my phone and dial Stella. She doesn’t pick up, but it’s no wonder with the chaos going on in here.
I make it to the bar, then see a sea of people trying to get through the back where the offices are. There’s a big hole in the wall where the booth seats used to be, and I can see outside.
“Fuck,” I mutter. “Stella, where are you?”
I pass a woman crouched on the ground, shaking. I bend and take her hand. “Are you hurt?”
She looks up. Luna? Tag’s ol’ lady. “I… I can’t… I don’t know…” I check her over quickly, making sure she’s not bleeding. “I think you’re okay, come with me. Can you stand?”
I haul her up, and she groans. “I think I sprained my ankle.”
