Shadow/Carnage Duet (Print)

Shadow/Carnage Duet (Print)
Marteeka Karland
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Copyright ©2023 Marteeka Karland
Excerpt from Carnage

Carnage

There’s nothing quite as satisfying as flying down a long stretch of highway on my bike. I enjoyed the feeling as much as I could during the run I was currently leading my club, Bones MC, on, coming back from Palm Beach, Florida to Somerset, Kentucky. I had to be focused, but it didn’t keep me from enjoying life.

Bones had a group of twelve bikers on this run. At least half had ol’ ladies with us, which was a fight. I don’t like women riding this long with us. The run was close to sixteen hours, which we’d had to break down into two legs. I’d have preferred three, but Cain had given me the stink eye. Anyone other than Cain, and I’d have told them to suck it up. Surprisingly, the women complained about having to stop more often than not. They’d turned out to be stouter than I’d given them credit for. I still insisted on stopping every three hours, though, even if it was only ten minutes or so.

The trip had been wonderful for everyone, and the ride completely uneventful. I’d mapped out the route to keep out of other club’s territory and had made sure to stick to the main traffic thoroughfares when entering a county where local law enforcement wasn’t exactly friendly to MCs. Everything had gone smoothly. Until the last two hours.

No matter what route we took, no matter how slow or fast I led the run, there was a small Ford Fusion tailing us. I’d nearly missed it behind Tool’s bigass chase vehicle. The mechanic had a massive Ford F350 with a gooseneck trailer that carried everything we could need if anyone broke down. But the Ford was there. Blue. Driving safely, but still tailing us.

It was time to make everyone aware. Well, everyone other than the ol’ ladies. No reason to worry the women.

I keyed the mic on my helmet’s headset. “I need everyone’s attention,” I said. “Tool. You got a blue Fusion on your six.”

“Yeah. Picked it up after the last stop. Think there’s a girl drivin’. Male passenger. Not sure but I think there’s kids in the back.”

“So, harmless?” Sword didn’t sound convinced. I wasn’t sure he was wrong. Something was definitely pinging my radar.

“Tool, they made any move like they wanted to pass?”

“Hard to say, Carnage. I get the feeling the guy wants the girl to go around, but she’s refusing. They argue when he’s awake. Not sure if that’s the reason or not. She meets my gaze in the mirror when I slow down, though. Looks more than a little stressed.”

“Well, that’s not a red flag or anything,” Bohannon muttered.

Bohannon was the enforcer of Bones while Sword was his backup. I always welcomed advice from the enforcers, but final say on anything during a run fell to me. The road captain. Cain was the president of Bones MC. Torpedo the vice president. Though both had a say, they would defer to me on a run because I had the plan. I knew the layout of the land and had chosen the route specifically with all aspects of their surroundings in mind.

“She tryin’ to communicate with you in any way?” Cain asked. “Not that she reasonably could.”

“No…” Tool trailed off, but offered nothing else. “She turned on her blinker a time or two, but didn’t make a move to pull off the interstate.”

“Maybe she wants us to make a stop?” That from Bohannon.

I thought for a minute. “Yeah. It’s time anyway. We’ll pull off at exit eighty-seven. There should be a minimart with gas just off the exit on the right. That’s two miles down the road. See if you can get her to understand that.”

“And if it’s an ambush?”

Bohannon had a valid point, but I didn’t think so. “Then be ready to defend yourselves against however many can reasonably fit inside a fucking small-ass Fusion.”

It was a moment before we passed the sign that had the symbols for the main interests at the exit, then Tool came back on the radio. “I gave three separate right turn signals, and she flashed her brights at me. The man in the car appears to be asleep.”

“Copy that,” I acknowledged. “Everyone, prepare for a stop. We’ll let her make the first move.”

* * *

Calliope

My heart pounded. I glanced back at the boys, hoping they knew to stay quiet. My boyfriend, Mark, was asleep in the passenger seat, thankfully. He hadn’t wanted to make any stops, but not taking a break every few hours wasn’t an option with twin eight-year-olds in the car. The boys looked at me but didn’t make a sound. Just one more reason I knew I was doing the right thing.

As the group of motorcycles pulled off the exit, I followed, hoping and praying Mark would stay asleep until I had the boys safely out of the car. He was less likely to get violent in front of people than he was at home. Or wherever it was he was taking us. What I was getting ready to do was a huge risk, but staying in my current situation with Mark was going to have a deadly outcome. I might not know these guys personally, but I was in a hell of a mess.

The boys’ father, my sister’s boyfriend, had been a member of an MC in Indiana. The only piece of advice he’d given us before leaving had been not to judge motorcycle clubs just because they were MCs. It had been part of the reason he’d given my sister for not sticking around. She was too judgy. I knew I’d been just as judgy as my sister, and I didn’t blame Chase for leaving. For all his perceived faults, and even though he’d left her, I still couldn’t reconcile the Chase I’d known with him leaving Cherry pregnant and on her own. Chase had always seemed to revere family. Had talked about wanting a family of his own.

This club’s name was Bones and hailed from Kentucky, according to the patches the members were wearing on their vests. That was heading in the direction Mark wanted me to go, but perhaps this group could help me and the boys get to safety.

I moved behind the group at a store just off the exit ramp and pulled up to the gas pump, away from the bikers. I’d put my debit card in my back pocket several miles back, hoping I’d have the opportunity to take the boys and slip off. It would leave Mark with the car, but it was a small price to pay. As if sensing what needed to happen, both boys had their seatbelts off and were out of their booster seats with their backpacks ready. Theodore sat behind me, so he was ready. Sebastian, careful not to bump Mark’s seat, moved to stand beside his brother, ready to exit the vehicle the second I opened the door. I left the engine running in the hopes Mark would continue to sleep.

I snagged my wallet. It had everything but my credit card, which Mark had confiscated a few weeks ago to carry with him for “emergencies.” Then, as quietly as I could, I got out of the car. Without a word, the boys grabbed their backpacks and hopped out when I opened the door.

“Where you goin’?” Mark opened his eyes sleepily and gave me an angry stare. He was high and drunk, and his speech was slurred markedly. He’d passed the manic stage an hour ago and usually slept several hours afterward.

“The boys and I both need a bathroom break, and I thought I’d top off the tank.”

He looked at them, his eyelids drooping. “Well, be quick ’bout it. No more stops till we get to ’Tucky.”

I took a breath and shut the door, then swiped my card through the reader, selecting the cheapest grade of gas before putting the nozzle in the gas tank and clicking it on the slowest fill rate it had. With any luck, Mark would sleep for a long time. It was possible no one would notice until I was safely away. If not? Well. I’d figure it out.

Taking the boy’s hands, I walked toward the store, glancing over at the bikers. None of them seemed to pay me any attention but the one from the truck I’d been following. Another one walked toward the store. He had his eyes on me like he was on a mission. His cold, hard look gave me a frisson of apprehension, but I was committed now. I went straight to the bathroom area in case Mark followed us inside, then stood waiting in the narrow hallway.

It wasn’t long before one of the men approached me. He was tall with a full, reddish-brown beard and was covered in tattoos. His hair was a lighter mix of red and brown. He sported dreadlocks on top of his head, grown long and tied back in a tail. The sides of his head were shaven, leaving only stubble to obscure a few tats creeping up his neck into his hair and over his forehead and cheek. Fine scars crisscrossed his forehead and cheeks. I assumed his beard hid several too, but it was hard to tell. And the man was hella big. Tall and muscular, he looked so scary I worried I’d made a serious mistake.

The boys stood their ground, lifting their chins. Theodore moved slightly in front of me while Sebastian dropped his backpack on the floor as if readying for a fight. Both twisted out of my grip on their hands.

The big man glanced at them and seemed to read the situation. “You in trouble?”