Page 23 of Road to Absolution

Was I experiencing more shock, or did the world simply hold still? I don’t know, but everything went quiet. Eerily so, until a blood-curdling howl left Giver. I’d say it was through his mouth, but I think that would be wrong. It sounded as if it had just come from the very pit of his raging soul.

Giver rose to his feet with an expression of anger I had yet to witness in my life. I hadn’t realized he had been patting my legs with his bare hands until I saw them, practically charred, as they retrieved two guns from a holster under his vest.

Black leather boots charged forward and around the bed of the truck.

The man who had intended on killing me that night was about to meet a fate he couldn’t outrun. Shots rang into the night.

Knowing it was over, my body relaxed and melted into the wet earth. I didn’t feel my burnt flesh or my head injury. Nothing. In fact, I doubted I was actually seeing all the headlights that started to surround me. I thought Heaven had shown up and was taking me into the sky.

I also thought one angel had a very manly grip when it took hold of my hand. “Maverick, can you hear me?” My eyes kept opening, but not of their own accord. The burly angel kept prying them open.

Once I could focus my sight again, I saw that the angel was a biker on a knee next to me.

I tried, “R-Ryders?”

The man, who appeared to be in about his late thirties, had a tight beard and closely cut hair that looked brass-colored in the headlights. This biker had a military feel to him. Nothing that announced an old man trying to act cool as I had previously conceived.

Studying my face as if he had a medical background, he said, “No, kid. Those wolves are protecting the town. We’re Stallions, here to protect you.” To confirm I wasn’t yet again in the wrong hands, I read his vest patches that indeed said Steel Stallions, Sergeant at Arms, and Torque.

I squeezed his hand, hoping he could understand my worry. “H-He th-threatened wife.”

Bronze eyes widened with alarm. “Delilah?”

A sigh turned into a cough. “Y-Yes.”

He shook my hand with grit. “You don’t know me, Maverick, but I know you. I give you my fucking word, she will be protected. Now, I need you to hold on. We’re getting you to a hospital right now.”

Several men joined him when Torque demanded I be put into the bed of a truck. “Let’s move. His truck may blow. Careful of his legs…”

As a wet blanket was laid over the legs of which he was speaking, I tried to ask, “A-Ambulance?”

There was a collection of chuckles from the men before Torque explained, “Not really our style.”

As I was lifted off the ground, comments rang out:

“Jesus, I thought boxers were lean machines.”

Another man grunted, “This boy’s a wall of muscle.”

“Diesel needs to recruit this fucker.”

I wanted to say, I’m a boxer, not a biker, but once again, my mouth decided to stop working.

“This guy could give Scorch a run for his money.”

“Hey! My man wouldn’t appreciate you tryin’ to replace him.”

“Aww,” teasingly cooed a biker. “You Enforcers gotta stick together?”

“How’s your belt fittin’, Meatball? Gettin’ a little tight?”

“Why? Why must my waistline always be brought up?”

“Umm, what’s with us and young bloodied strays lately?”

“Hey!” yelled someone off to my right. “I wasn’t a stray.” He chuckled, “I was a God-given gift to you fuckers.”

Someone playfully grumbled, “Prez sure set up his ego by giving him the road name Saint.”