Page 62 of Their Property
“Dude. You think that’s a good idea? With everything else we have going on?”
“It doesn’t matter what kind of idea it is, Dyno, or what else there is going on. I will not skip paying my respects to the ones who brought us up just because the timing is inconvenient.”
“You don’thaveto go right on the anniversary. We can—”
“Yes, I do.”
I released a sigh. It was exhausting arguing with him about any topic, but this one always took the cake. “Well, you shouldn’t go alone.”
He shook his head. “You guys need to stay here with Kyrie.”
“And what if you get ambushed out there? No one rides alone, that’s one of our few laws, T.”
“Well, I’m not skipping out on this. I don’t know what else to tell you guys.”
“Uh.” Chris spoke up for the first time in several minutes. “There seems to be a pretty simple solution here. What if we all go?”
Tiff nodded her agreement. “Been a while since I’ve been on a good, long ride. We’ll lock this place up tight, keep watch over y’all and the little lady.”
The tension in T-Bone’s shoulders eased a fraction, his gaze sliding to Kyrie’s. “What do you say, Kyrie? Up for arealride?”
She straightened, the excitement already lighting up her face. “I’d love to.”
“We’ll be closer to Four Corners too,” Chris added. “So just in case you want to pay your dear ol’ dad a visit, we can probably manage.”
Kyrie grumbled something that sounded like, “Don’t count on it.”
T-Bone thumped his palm on the table. “Alright then. It’s a family road trip. We leave first thing tomorrow morning.”
NINETEEN
KYRIE
T-Bone was in a sullen mood for the rest of the evening and the next day when we set out on our ride. I knew some tragedy had befallen his club a few months before they came for me in Blakeworth, but I didn’t know the full extent of it.
The Sons of Odin were once numerous. As a teenager, I remembered seeing a dozen bikers, maybe more, roaring down the streets of Four Corners, all wearing the Sons of Odin patch on their backs. Their faces, hidden under helmets, beards, sunglasses, or balaclavas, whipped past me in a blur. T-Bone, Dyno, and Grudge were once in that sea of leather, muscle, and machinery, completely unknown to me.
And one day, it was only the three of them. A plaque was created and displayed in the foyer of our capitol building. It was made to honor all of the fallen bikers who had helped defend Four Corners in a war against New Ireland, a neighboring territory that was once extremely hostile.
But what exactly had happened to the other Sons of Odin? I had no idea, and none of them seemed eager to talk about it.
I rode with Dyno for the first leg of the journey, then with Grudge for the later part. T-Bone rode some distance ahead of us, while Tiff and Chris guarded the rear. I had naively thought the two of them would double up, but Tiff had her own motorcycle, which she handled and maneuvered with ease. It made me a little envious. Dad would have a heart attack on the spot if I asked him, but I wondered if the Sons would teach me to ride.
We avoided the main roads on the slight chance that hostile troops were en route to Sevier. Instead, we took longer, more scenic routes, and I was ecstatic that we did. Our elevation was high, the air chilly as a result, but the sun was bright. The sky was an endless blue. Gorgeous rock formations stood out like monuments, their stunning orange-reddish hues illuminated by the sun.
Years ago as a child, I learned about the US national parks and that Utah was home to some of the most beautiful natural formations in the world. As I got older, Dad was more and more hesitant to leave home, except for work trips, of course. I had lost hope and then forgotten about wanting to visit all the national parks in person.
There was no longer a government agency protecting these areas, but the striped canyons and the towering rock pillars looked as untouched as ever. Like they’d been here for thousands of years and would keep standing until humans were just a distant memory. I couldn’t imagine a better way to experience it all than on the back of a motorcycle. We drove through one canyon so narrow that I could have released Grudge’s waist with one arm and touched that smooth wall formed by millions of years of wind and rain.
It felt too soon when we came to a stop. The only evidence that we’d been riding all day was the sun dipping to touch the horizon and the persistent soreness in my thighs. T-Bone pulled over at the mouth of another canyon, this one a shorter distance through, maybe the length of ten motorcycles, but a wider distance between the two walls.
“We’ll stop here for the night,” T-Bone said when everyone cut their engines. “It’ll shelter us from the elements and get nice and cozy once we build a fire.” He cocked his head and shot me a grin, apparently in better spirits after the ride. “Hope you don’t mind roughin’ it, little lady.”
“If it’s anything like that night after Blakeworth, I’m sure I’ll live.” Excitement thrummed through me. I liked modern comforts, sure. But I’d never been camping before. Notactualcamping. And I was never one to turn down a new adventure.
Dyno snorted out a laugh at my response while he dismounted. “It’ll be far more comfortable than that.”
After I was rescued, the guys drove Mari and me in a stolen Hummer to the middle of nowhere to escape the armed police in the city. Mari and I slept in the car, while the guys kept watch outside. It was cramped but not totally uncomfortable.
