Page 56 of Doc

“Fuck!” someone whispered and swore. “Almost shit my pants! Fucking bird!”

If anyone laughed, they did so silently. Before long we came to an opening that overlooked Wild Bandits’ compound. We were on a slight incline and close enough to hear music and indistinguishable conversations. The clubhouse was lit up like a fucking Christmas tree, and I estimated that there were around fifty bikes on site. Some of the free-standing buildings they were using for living quarters also had lights on.

It was a prime location, but the place was a disaster and looked more like a dumping ground than a biker’s clubhouse. Broken down motorcycles were strewn about, along with a couple of vehicles. One looked as if it had once been in a fire. Garbage littered the ground. There didn’t appear to be any organization to any of it. What the fuck did their prospects do?

Suddenly the clubhouse door opened, and a group of women walked out, all heading toward one particular building. There must have been around eight of them.

“Hey look.” I nudged Trip and indicated what I was looking at.

“Fuck, that’s a good sign. You brothers avoid shooting in the direction of that house unless you have to.” He spoke in a low tone so his voice wouldn’t carry.

“Where did Bomber and Tank set up the explosives?”

Trip turned a smug grin toward Demon. “The clubhouse.”

“Fuck, look at that!” Bull whisper yelled to get their attention.

We all looked, and I knew that all of my brothers were feeling the same thing that I was right at that moment. Luck was on our side tonight. Wild Bandits from all directions began heading toward their clubhouse.

“Ruiz must have called church.” There was deep satisfaction in LD’s raspy voice.

I could see Bomber and Tank making their way up the hillside, keeping low and out of sight of anyone who might be looking from the compound. Once they stepped clear, they rose to their full heights.

“All set.” Tank was a big man, tall like LD and muscular like a lot of us. He’d been an explosives expert in the military, and that came in fucking handy when facing war.

“Fuckers are getting ready for church,” Bomber added. “Heard Ruiz call for it.”

Shit, they’d been that close? So that was why their women had left the clubhouse. He handed Trip something. I assumed it was the detonator.

“Okay, Brothers, this is it. Once the clubhouse goes up, we go down and take care of business.”

No one said anything. Each of us was gearing up in our own way, looking forward to the fight, knowing that it was do or die. Some of us might not make it home, but we didn’t focus on that. We’d do what we had to do to do, and we’d do it our way.

I knew what Trip was waiting for. There were men still walking toward the clubhouse. A minute later, once all of the men were inside, he detonated the explosives, and we raced downhill as burning debris fell from the sky like ash from a spitting volcano.

Chapter 20

---