If you have everything under control, you’re not moving fast enough. - Mario Andretti
“I’m out of here.” I give a salute to my Kings of Carnage brothers and make my way to the side door. I can handle a beer or two then ride, but I’m not some young asshole anymore who’ll ride sloshed out of my mind. Had a buddy of mine die over that shit, and it changed me. I rarely snort the powder I offer up to the sexy dancers either. I did back in the day, but I’ve grown out of it. Now, it’s just a perk I give the girls when they offer me a dance or a bit of information.
My brothers send me off with a nod and promises to see me tomorrow. There’s no end to club life; my brothers are my family, and we see each other all the time. It’s the way we like things, and the closer we are, the more we trust one another. In our line of work, especially mine, trust is imperative.
It’s dark tonight—one of those eerie nights where the clouds hide away the stars and the air’s damp. It’s humid and a bit sticky, but the breeze is cool. These types of evenings often make for the most comfortable rides. There’s not much that holds a candle to riding this late in the South; it reminds me of cruising along the coast in spring. Climbing on my bike, the best sort of feeling washes over me, a peaceful one that I relish.
My bike rumbles with a sexy growl as I crank her over, and the vibrations melt through my skin, fueling my addiction. I’m not some “enthusiast.” Riding—as well as my club—has become my life. It’s an infatuation running in my blood that I’ll never be able to shake, nor do I want to. The fumes from the exhaust hit me, and I slowly release my grip on the brake, coasting out of the bar’s parking lot.
Lynyrd Skynyrd croons the “Ballad of Curtis Loew” as I cruise along, struggling to see. My headlight is shit on a black night like this. It flickers, and I begin to curse it as always. The fucking thing never works right, no matter how much I tinker with it.
Just get me home, damn it, I silently chant and pick up my speed. If my light’s gonna give me issues, I better hurry the fuck up. I’m not trying to be out here, unable to see shit, attempting to repair the stupid thing. My brothers keep giving me hell for it, yet those fuckers haven’t been able to get it to work correctly either.
There isn’t a star in sight tonight. The clouds are thick, consuming any light I may obtain from above. I wouldn’t be surprised if a dense fog decided to roll in as well. That’d be my damn luck. Singing to myself, I blaze a trail, basking in the wind hitting my skin. The club was busy tonight, and the girls looked damn good. Not a bad way to spend my evening—tits and a cold beer will please any man if they’ve got their priorities right.
My light flickers off, and I immediately spit out a curse, sitting forward enough so I can bang on the glass. It flashes back on, and I give the loud beast some more gas. I’m hauling ass home before I’m stranded in the middle of nowhere, fuck the dumb shit. I hold on and pay better attention to my surroundings. I don’t need any critters running out in front of me.
My phone rings, echoing through my helmet, but I ignore it. Too many distractions and it can wait. My light flashes, turning off again, and I explode, past the point of being patient with the fucking thing. I lean forward, slamming my hand on it, screaming profanities into the eerie cool night. If only I’d had my head up. If only I’d had some way of seeing in front of me…
The crash happens so fast, it’s surreal. I feel the initial impact, and then I’m airborne. My radio plays, along with a sickening screech of metal on metal. A horrendous scraping from the asphalt ripping against my baby floods through my mind, then I’m hitting the ground where everything goes black.
One
I ride a bike to add life to my days. - Unknown
I can’t believe what I just witnessed. I’m shaken to my core over it. I’d heard the rumble from the motorcycle a ways out.