incapacitated in one way or another.
When it was over, I finally noticed the gun in my hand and the blood splatters. Razr was still passed out. Acid was coughing up blood, crawling over to his old man. Scar was dead. His blank stare focused on the yellowed plaster of the ceiling and I fucking smiled at that shit.
See ya in hell, asshole.
Groans echoed around the room, but I didn’t stop to assess who else was dead or alive. That would prove to be a mistake later, but I was injured, and I needed to find Lockjaw and Keys. A steep set of stairs led to the next level of the building and I ran up the flight, pausing just long enough to lock and latch the door shut with a small length of chain. It wouldn’t stop the Scorpions for long, but I needed to buy a few minutes to locate Lockjaw and Keys.
My side was aching and burned like a bitch, but I hobbled through the empty kitchen and out into the blinding brightness of the backyard. It wasn’t a backyard as much as an open field of desert sand, boulders, and tumbleweed that led into a thick patch of overgrown cactus. Up against one was Keys, lashed by a length of rope. He was bleeding from several deep wounds and one of his fuckin’ eyes was gouged out. Blood had long ago dried from the heat and brutal sunshine.
His cut was laying in the dirt along with mine and I scooped them up, pissed they touched the ground. There was gonna be hell to pay for that later.
“Keys!” I shouted, my heart nearly leaping into my throat when I saw the way he was rasping for every single breath he took. “Pres, you okay?”
All I got in return was a grunt.
Fuck. Not like my old man. Not like this.
I didn’t want to lose another father figure in my life. It wasn’t fucking fair.
Keys needed a doctor and we had to haul ass off this property. Took a couple of minutes but I finally untied him, and he slumped over, barely held up as I grit my teeth and caught him as he wobbled. Our bikes were parked around the front of the Scorpion clubhouse and I practically dragged Keys closer since I knew we were running out of time. Didn’t know where the rest of the MC was, and I didn’t want to bump into anymore Scorpions.
They had several compounds throughout central Nevada, and I was sure someone was calling in reinforcements. Time wasn’t on our side.
“Where’s Lockjaw?” I asked, scanning the vicinity. Didn’t see him anywhere.
Keys ticked his head in the direction we’d have to travel to leave. I thought he meant we’d be picking Lockjaw up on our way out. Nodding, I helped Keys onto his bike and slipped on his cut before I limped to mine, sticking my arms through my own leather, and hissing as it stretched my wounds. I hopped on my bike, pausing as the sound of birds caught my attention.
About twenty feet to my right I saw Lockjaw. He was buried in the hot sand up to chest, slightly slumped over as if he was asleep. If I didn’t look any closer, I could have ridden away without a nightmare that would haunt me for years to come. Instead, I took a few steps forward and then abruptly stopped. It wasn’t his body at an odd angle that caused my stomach to roil or the rage within to climb to new levels. He’d been cut up and sliced open. Gouges from a knife were clearly marked on his flesh like someone had tried to cut out precise little pieces one chunk at a time. Exactly like the handiwork of a gut hook.
Ropes of his intestines had been yanked free and were looped around his neck, sliced open in several spots where blood and other bodily fluids had leaked free. A signal to the desert wildlife that a feast was prepared in their honor. He was also missing an eyeball, but it wasn’t gouged out. Lockjaw’s once pale blue eye was dangling from the socket right above his lips which had been sliced farther open on either side of his mouth in order to give him a bloody macabre grin much like the Joker.
“Gotta head out, son. Ain’t nothin’ we can do for him now.” Keys was right but I had a hard time leaving my brother sticking up out of the