Page 68 of Claymore
“Riding front with me.”
“We need someone to watch Ella,” Archer chimed in.
“No, we don’t. I’m coming with you guys,” she said, and I immediately shook my head.
“Absolutely not.”
“Glad we’re on the same page,” said Tank.
Ella folded her arms across her chest, gritting her teeth like she was firm in her decision. There was a look in her eyes I hadn’t seen before, one that made it pretty clear to me that she was tired of sitting around waiting for things to get better.
“I’m coming with or I’ll find a way up to Eagle’s Path myself. Either you let me go with you or I just follow close behind. I could help. What if there's something there that Ray’s holding onto, memorabilia from his early life? Maybe I could help identify something. I did identify that watch on Fang’s wrist, remember?” Ella pleaded.
“Ella, we don’t know what we may be walking into here,” I said, resting my hands on her shoulders, squeezing softly.
“I don’t care. I need to be there.”
I looked over at Tank for help, but he simply shook his head, sighing.
“Fine. Ella, you can come with, but you have to stay back until we get the place clear, got it?”
“Tank! You can’t be serious. She can’t—”
“Claymore, she’s right. She might be able to help.”
“Thank you, Tank,” she said.
My blood boiled at the thought of her anywhere near Ray, anywhere near those Freeway Fucks or their new friends. I sighed, escorting Ella outside to prepare her.
“Ella, listen to me. Things could get real bad real fast. If they get the upper hand on us, I need you to get the hell out of there. I need to keep you safe, okay?”
“They won’t get the upper hand. No matter how strong they are, they’re no Rebels. You guys have been doing this a very long time, I hear.”
“Yeah, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it doesn’t always go according to plan.”
“It will this time,” she said, pulling me by my dog tag necklace for a kiss.
All of the Rebels took their positions, loading their guns, cocking them back to make sure they were ready. Engines roared loudly through the air and I felt the adrenaline rush through me with such power, I desperately needed to move. Soon, we were all barreling down the streets, taking sharp turns, whizzing in and out of traffic to get up to Eagle’s Path. My heartbeat was so loud it rang in my ears, deafening me while I worried about what we may find when we arrived. I wouldn’t put it past Ray to have a plan in place, to knock us all down before we even had the chance to strike. He was the kind of reckless, maniacal man that would do just about anything to get what he wanted, no matter who he had to kill or who had to suffer the consequences.
The longer we were on the road, the more I began to worry, We still had no fucking idea what we were looking for or exactly where the building was, but I had a feeling we were getting close. A half hour later, our wheels were kicking up sand, the sun beating down on us while we pulled up to a small cabin in the middle of nowhere. It had boarded-up windows, a small cactus plant on the wooden porch, and I could’ve sworn I smelled smoke in the air.
There were no bikes parked out front and no sign of those fuckers anywhere. I glanced down at my feet, noticing an old cigarette that had recently been put out, with its char coating the surface of the sand.
“There’s no sign of ’em anywhere. Probably better we head back out on the road and keep looking, huh?” asked Wrench.
“Wait.”
Ella hopped off my bike, handing me her dome before she made her way to the front door. I scrambled to join her, pulling out my gun in case we were met with any of those fucks waiting inside. She fiddled with the doorknob and it surprisingly gave way with ease.
“It doesn’t look like anyone’s home.”
“Maybe no one was here to begin with. Hey, we don’t want to waste any time. We should—”
“Wrench, give her a second,” Tank instructed.
Ella’s boots creaked on the wooden floorboards while she trailed through the small, dirty living room. There were old pizza boxes on the coffee table with cheese still stuck to them, broken beer bottles lying in shards near the television as if someone had slammed them into the wall. The smell was atrocious. The smoke had sunken into the furniture now, cutting the old food aroma that wafted through the air.
“Damn, this place is a dump. Maybe some lone bikers rode through here. I mean, a pit stop is a pit stop if it has a working toilet,” said Archer.
