Page 19 of Lawless
As Reaper took off, he let out a loud, high-pitched whistle. Seconds later, a dark form ran alongside us. Of course it was Hades, but my fear-stricken brain couldn't comprehend the impossibility of it. A dog running leisurely, lips smiling and tongue lolling out with joy, alongside a motorcycle?
No, all I could do was stare at the Steel Demons’ skull emblem, grinning mockingly at me from the back of Reaper's cut, as we rode off into the night.
Seven
MARIPOSA
Ithought of throwing myself and Reaper off that bike no less than a dozen times. But every time I glanced in one of his mirrors and saw the army of bikes behind us, I chickened out.
Hours crawled by and my body protested every passing minute. I was exhausted but too in pain and desperate to survive to sleep. My ass and thighs cried out from soreness. My arms, still bound in front of me, tingled from numbness, and my back and shoulders killed me. The dry air and sand turned my lips, throat, and eyes to sandpaper.
I'd never ridden on a motorcycle in my life, but it seemed innate to these men. Reaper barely moved in his seat, despite my shifting and wiggling from all the aches and pains.
A dark shape and white teeth grinned at me from the darkness alongside us. Hades? He wasstillrunning next to his master? Some part of my brain knew that wasn't possible for a normal dog, but it wasn't the main thought plaguing me. My main concern was getting the hell off this bike and escaping whatever the Steel Demons had in store for me.
Some time after the darkness of night began lifting, structures popped up on the horizon to break up the endless landscape of desert. The houses, all abandoned or taken over by squatters, were some of the largest I'd ever seen. All at least two stories and relatively new, complete with solar panels that became standard about twenty years ago. The rusted, broken sign of the Ferrari dealership in the distance makes it clear that this was once a wealthy neighborhood.
A sudden flapping of wings near my head jolted me upright. Despite all the noise, pain, and fear, it seemed I did manage to doze off for a second. With my face against the back of Reaper's shoulder no less.
Blinking, my dry eyes made out Gunner's falcon flying ahead of the bikes, the blonde demon himself pulling up next to Reaper.
Helmetless, his hair flew out around his face like a halo as he shot a winning grin at his president.
"Woohoo!" he yelled over the roaring engines, raising a hand in the air. My eyes followed the length of his arm to the assault rifle he waved like a flag. "Morning, boys! Welcome home, Demons!"
He sped up ahead to lead the pack of bikers, his falcon keeping pace with him just as Hades was with Reaper. A long, horizontal black line materialized a quarter mile in front of us. As we rode closer my exhausted, dry eyes watched as the line took on the form of a tall, wrought-iron gate, complete with armed guards. Once the guards spotted Gunner waving his weapon, the gates began to open slowly.
Mounted to one of the gate posts, a black flag with the grinning skull of the Steel Demons’ emblem waved like from the mast of a pirate ship. It looked to be laughing at me as Reaper's bike passed underneath it and through the gates.
The houses we passed by earlier looked like rundown shacks compared to the ones inside these gates. This was a small community but every single home was a sprawling mansion. When it came to taking up residence somewhere, apparently the Steel Demons had a taste for the finer things.
Motorcycles, pickup trucks, and a few RV campers filled the massive driveways where Ferraris and Porsches once sat. But aside from the stark contrast between homes and vehicles, the lots looked otherwise well-maintained. Lawns were still manicured, front porches were swept and tastefully decorated, and there was no graffiti on the garage doors or other signs of careless squatting.
Reaper turned off of the main road to a cul-de-sac where a single McMansion overtook more than its fair share of the landscape. He stopped his bike in front of the monstrous house, turning to address the convoy of bikers behind him.
"Church at noon," he yelled over the rumbling engines. "Get a few hours of sleep, but don't be fuckin' late."
The others broke away, assumedly riding off to their own million-dollar homes, if dollars were still worth anything.
Reaper pulled up to the driveway and cut the engine before loosening the rope that tied us together. Sore, stiff, and numb, my limbs cried out in protest at this new allocation of movement. Fire shot up my legs and I was suddenly going down, the pavement coming up fast to slap me.
Strong hands grabbed me at the last moment, righting me up as Reaper began dragging me to the front door.
"Please, no," I rasped through cracked lips, my legs buckling underneath me. "Please just let me go."
"Yeah? Be my guest."
Reaper released me suddenly and I fell hard on my ass. He loomed over me, scowling like a fed up father disciplining his child as he thrust a hand out toward the street.
"Go ahead. See how far you make it on foot in the desert. You'll even get to enjoy the sunrise."
I should have moved. I should have scooted, crawled, or even rolled down his damn driveway, but I remained sitting on the pavement. Because I didn't know which scared me more, him or being out there with no resources. I didn't even have my medic pack.
"I didn't think so," he remarked, pulling me to my feet as he shoved the door open. "Noelle!" His voice echoed off the marble tiled floor and high vaulted ceilings as he dragged me inside. "Noelle! Get your ass up!"
I couldn't even appreciate the finery of his house with him yelling like that. My eyes bounced around the elegant fixtures and furniture only in search of a place to hide.
"What the fuck are you yelling so goddamned early for?" a woman's voice called from the top of an elegant, winding staircase.
