Page 73 of The Ghost of Rage's War

Davies saw desperation in some of their eyes, others held resignation, and some a feverish desire to maim and kill. He watched as a group that had congregated suddenly broke free and ran for their bikes. In horror, he watched as another group turned and shot them in the back.

“You fight or die!” a man with blackened teeth yelled.

“Did you see that?” Nick gasped, horrified.

Davies began to nod when blood splattered his face.

Nick blinked at him once and then toppled sideways. Davies didn’t bother checking for a pulse; a bullet had taken Nick straight through the eye. His friend was dead.

Davies glanced across and saw Dylan staring. He couldn’t read Dylan’s expression, but he knew his boss was hurting. Davies did not dare tell him that Colm had also fallen. He didn’t think Dylan could handle more death.

“Fuck!” Nyx yelled, and Davies noticed her hand-to-hand fighting a Fang. Nyx spun and shot him in the head, but another stepped up.

Booth leapt forward and shot the guy, and Davies realised they’d a breach.

Wilder collapsed with a bullet to his leg as men came through a gap that had opened. But the fucking idiots had created a bottleneck, and Hawthornes began picking them off as they poured through.

Enzo stood over Wilder, protecting him as they both shot at the Fangs.

“They’re running!” London yelled as a team of about twenty broke off and fled. Those in the bottleneck they’d made themselves, died, as a second team ran. That was ten men less.

“Should we shoot them?” Indigo asked.

“Shooting them in the back ain’t sporting, Indy,” Makia chided.

“Do I look like I care about that?” Indigo replied and began firing at those remaining.

“Ambo needed,” Dylan announced, and Davies glanced across.

He was back firing at the enemy, but Davies knew this had taken a toll on him. Dylan Hawthorne would never be the same man again.

Dylan

He called in the further deaths and injuries and took another blow. Jase had been DOA. Only about thirty Fangs remained now.

Dylan lifted his megaphone. “You’ve lost over two hundred men. You will not breach us. Throw your weapons down and surrender—or die. I honestly don’t give a shit which.”

Somebody fired at him, and he ducked low behind a dumpster.

Die then, he thought.

“We surrender!” someone announced, and a Fang stood up and held his hands up.

Before anyone could reply or act, another Fang shot him.

“Fuck!” Arturo breathed, looking stunned.

“Ain’t surprised,” Davies commented.

“We don’t wanna die for your stupid president’s war and ego,” another Fang yelled.

Dylan watched as the Venomous Fangs fought amongst themselves. Finally, ten more men lay dead, and twenty-three stood with their hands up.

“We surrender,” a man called.

“Cover me,” Dylan said, yanking out a load of zip-ties. He moved out, ready to dive to the side should one show aggression. “Spread out and drop your weapons.”

Dylan reached the first and used him as a barrier between him and the other Fangs. He patted him down and then zip-tied his hands behind his back.

---