His beady, bloodshot eyes widened when he saw me before it was too late. I grabbed
the collar of his greasy shirt, swung him backward, then with full momentum smashed
his face into the table. Repeatedly, until he dropped the gun, and his body grew limp.
My chest heaved as I looked at the fallen Kings. The air smelled of iron and Archer¡¯s
screams turned to staggered gasps of breath. Other than that, the only other sound was
the dripping from tipped-over chemical bottles.
¡°How did this place not explode?¡± Rooster asked, coming from out of the table.
¡°How¡¯d you stay under the table the whole time?¡± Crow asked. Instantly, I could see a
pointless argument brewing and I said, ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± before rushing to Archer¡¯s side.
¡°Are you okay?¡± I asked Archer, pulling his arm around my neck. Beside me, Ripper
knelt to grab his other arm.
As he stood, more blood drained from his thigh and he winced. Somehow, through his
pain, he managed to crack a half-smile. ¡°I¡¯d¡ better not¡ die¡ before¡¡± he mumbled out
between shallow gasps, ¡°I get a¡ chance¡ with that sexy¡ baker¡¡±
Ripper turned to me. ¡°Even when he¡¯s bleeding out, he¡¯s horny.¡±
¡°Guys,¡± Maverick and Rooster both called from the corner near a cardboard box ¡°This
is filled with fakes of our patches!¡±
¡°Good!¡± Tank shouted. ¡°Grab them!¡±
Crow walked to Maverick and Rooster and snarled, ¡°You¡¯re lucky you did something,
cowards.¡±
We ran down the alley to our meeting place where Rooster had parked his old brown
and rusted camper van. After Hollywood¡¯s death, we learned bikes weren¡¯t easy to
transport injured people on. Expecting tonight to be as bloody as it was, we came
prepared.
Crow and Tank stood by the open door, ready to lift Archer. Inside the van, Rooster
laid towels on the ground while Maverick started up the engine.
¡°Easy now,¡± Tank said as the four of us lifted him onto the van¡¯s floor. ¡°He¡¯s losing a
lot of blood.¡±
Archer was on the verge of losing consciousness. Next to his red-stained clothes, his
skin looked hauntingly white.