Page 127 of Enemy
The screaming, the banging of metal against bone, the gunshots, it’s all too loud for me to hear Clyde if he’s out there. I swear I heard him call out when Grizzly pulled the fucking trigger, but his voice died in the cacophony erupting around me.
The lamps cast deep shadows that transform the battle into a scene from an artistic black-and-white movie. Men, knives, and bullets are flying everywhere, it’s as if I’ve entered the circus of horrors. Someone’s bulk clashes with me, sending me straight at the fence, but while the razor wire on top tears my sleeve, I grab the fucker with my free hand and shove my fingers in his eyes. He shrieks, and fuck, am I happy I don’t know his voice, because this might as well have been one of ours.
I’m in survival mode. The one and only instinct stronger than that right now is finding Clyde, because when I finally get a glimpse of the spot where he’d stood with Brigid, there’s a trail of blood on the ground.
The next guy lurching at me with a heavy chain in his hand gets a punch that crunches his nose and throws him to the ground. I don’t care to check if he’s alive or dead. I don’t have time for such bullshit and leap over him like I’m a damn ballet master, not a biker.
“Clyde?” I yell, then frantically follow the trail of blood. I’m a sniffer dog on the hunt, staying close to the ground in case someone has the smart idea to shoot through the wire fence.
Bullets keep flying. Men fall. But I’m following the trail, because I can’t live not knowing what—
A massive brute with a jaw wide as a pan and pin-thin pupils launches himself at me from the side. I grab his ear and tug on it with all the force in my body, but when it gives, a massive fist armed with a knuckle duster collides with my ribs and knocks the air out of me. The pain is intense for only a split second, but while it’s soon replaced by numbness, my head starts spinning, and I fall over when he grabs me by the throat. His ear is now partially torn off and drizzles blood straight onto my face as he pushes down on my throat, trying to crush it.
Someone grunts right next to us, and just as the fucker choking the life out of me looks that way, a crowbar rams into his head, caving his skull in. His blood sprays on me like soda from a shaken and pierced can, and his eye drops out of its socket. It’s the strangest plum I’ve ever seen. The light-headedness eases, but stars still dance in front of my vision when I look up at my savior.
Clyde.
Oh,Clyde. The fucking love of my life, still on his feet.
He’s heaving, one of his arms covered in blood and hanging by his side, but he still holds the crowbar, ready to deliver another blow to the man on top of me if one wasn’t enough. But he’s pale, dazed, and despite the urge to lie still and wait for my lungs to fill again, I make myself get up and drag him farther toward the clubhouse. Someone’s stomping toward us, an anonymous shadow with a baseball bat, but as I take the crowbar from Clyde’s hand, ready to fight, the would-be attacker drops to the ground with a choked cry, and Creep shouts from somewhere above.
“Now! Covering you!”
I don’t think and drag my man behind the concrete wall. This isn’t the end. I’ll rejoin the fight as soon as my throat stops feeling as if it’s been punched, as soon as Clyde’s safe, because he can’t protect himself now. But as we settle on the wooden porch, listening to the chaos around us, I take a second and stroke his face, because who knows what happens next?
“Brigid?”
He takes deep breaths with every word, and I notice a piece of black cloth tied around his bleeding arm. “I… took her… inside. She’s… fine.”
“Was it Grizzly?” I whisper, double checking his arm to make sure he is not bleeding out while I fuck off to battle the Butchers.
When Clyde nods, a smile stretches my lips. “He’s dead,” I say.
He holds up his hand for a high five, but then leans closer. “Fuck it,” he whispers, wraps his arm around my neck and kisses me. We don’t have much time, but I still enjoy it like a shot of coke straight into my veins.
“It’s grazed. I think,” he says about his arm when he pulls away, resting his forehead against mine.
Only then I realize there’s an eerie silence behind the wall. Our gazes clash as worry sets in, and we peek past the concrete block at the same time to witness a standstill. TheVultures are retreating toward us, some helping others walk. I focus on the background, where dusky shapes with shotguns loom on the other side of the battlefield, keeping the Butchers from running their way.
“Do not fucking move, you vermin! This is our home!” shouts someone, and I chuckle, dragging my hand down my face, drowning in relief. Rhonda, the canteen lady is here too. Apparently, some civilians chose to stand by us and protect the settlement rather than hide. Their support from the back must have tipped the scales in our favor. I start clapping before I can think, because this is exactly the kind of community we deserve.
“Well said!”
“Clap now, because we’ll be back to burn down this whole fucking place!” one of the Butchers yells despite being forced to kneel, but a bald friend of his slaps him on the head.
“Just shut the fuck up!” Baldy raises his hands, staring at Prophet who stands in the open gate, assessing his victory. “Grizzly’s dead, and most of us have been unhappy about this whole Roy vendetta for a while now. Am I right, brothers?”
When he looks to the other Butchers for support, most of them do nod and grunt in agreement. My heart soars. Could this be the end? At least for now?
Baldy continues. “As far as we know, none of you killed Roy. Case closed.”
The man next to him must have learned from the slap, because now he’s eagerly changed sides. “And what do we care who Clyde fucks? He’s not a Butcher anymore.”
More grunts of agreement from men with guns to their heads. If they know what’s good for them, this shaky new peace won’t be just for show.
Baldy nods. “You’ve got your business, we’ve got ours, and from the look of it…” he takes a pointed glance around the few dead men. “We’ll all have a field day with the cops, so… truce?”
Prophet makes a show of stepping over Grizzly’s body, and forces the Butchers to wait, but he eventually extends his hand to Baldy. “Finally. Someone who talks sense. Truce.”
