Justice (18 page)

“It makes sense, if you use him to get you close, you can avoid a fire fight,” Zach said, and I gaped at him. “If they stayed at the lookout locations, waiting for word, they’ll be armed and paranoid. This can work. I think it’s a good idea, if you’re okay with it, Hannah, I’m for it.”
 

“Really? You’ll let her go out there with him?” Lex asked incredulously.
 

“If the locations are close, we’ll be locked and loaded for a quick bail-out. Show us where these lookouts are, Rebel,” Zach called out, walking to the table and motioning the biker over.
 

Rebel leaned over the table and pointed out three locations. They were all relatively close, within ten minutes walking distance, only a few minutes by truck. “I don’t think they’ll give much of a fight though. If they see you coming they’ll give up easily. The brothers that took lookout duty tended to be the ones that didn’t use drugs and couldn’t take being with the rest of the club for an extended amount of time.”
 

“And what is stored there, for us to take this chance?” Zach asked.
 

“Only food. They moved everything that was at the grocery into those houses. It was all originally being stored in the temporary trailers, but was moved when Senior started cooking meth.”
 

“What did they do with the medicines?” Blake asked.
 

“Most of it was used up. The stuff that wasn’t good for a high was packed up and kept at the drug store. Anything left will still be there,” Rebel answered.
 

“And did they have any plans for energy, or getting the water back up and running? Any of those kinds of stores?” Poche spoke up.
 

“No, it wasn’t a priority. There was talk of grabbing solar panels from the surrounding houses and hooking them up, but none of them had a clue what they needed. The few men that came back with parts, it was all grid-tied, which was useless.”

“And you know something about this?” Poche asked interested.
 

“The majority of my post-graduate work was focused on sustainable energy. It was the future.” Rebel shrugged and we looked at him like he was now the one from outer space.
 

“Post-graduate work was sustainable energy,” I repeated and began to laugh. I couldn’t help myself. “And you were living in this shithole with no electricity, running water or communication? What the ever-living-hell?”

“I wasn’t exactly someone the leaders consulted with,” he admitted. “Plus, they thought I was in law school. If I had told my father I was in architectural design, he would have killed me.”

“So, answer this, can you help us wire this place for electricity?” Poche asked, his face eager now, not guarded.

“Yes,” Rebel answered simply. “But it might be difficult to get the parts. I know of a place in Mid-City, near downtown, that might have the equipment, but it will be hard to get to. A lot of biters since it’s completely surrounded by apartment complexes and condos. I came up from downtown to get here, right after everything went down. It was bad.”
 

“I really didn’t expect this,” Poche laughed and looked at Rebel. “Who would have thought? Can you lend her for this mission?” Poche asked Blake, motioning to me, like I wasn’t standing right here. Obviously the coffee wasn’t a priority anymore. Fuck me.
 

“You want to do this?” Blake at least acknowledged me and brought me into the conversation.
 

“Sure, why not?” I said nonchalantly, even though I knew this was going to be a shit show. Maybe we could stop at the stores and grab the coffee and I could keep it all for myself.
 

“Should we send a whole group out?” Blake asked Poche.

“Are we really going to trust this guy?” Lex asked. “I know he’s all gung-ho about helping now, but a week ago he was raping and pillaging.” She glared at Rebel and he stepped back with his hands raised, playing innocent. I realized she had unclasped her holster.
 

“I was never into raping and pillaging, personally,” he smiled but it was forced.
 

“Cute,” she scoffed.
 

“If he’s willing, we could use the help,” Poche clapped Rebel on the back roughly. “What do you think? You’re willing to go and round up some converters or what-not for us? How many people you think will be needed to help get the stuff?”

“I think a small team will do it, four at the max. We’ll move quicker and we won’t need a lot of equipment at first.” Rebel offered like he was a tactician or something. “Our aim is to get off-grid inverters and a considerable amount of battery banks. It won’t take up a lot of room, but we’ll need a truck or van. Are we going to secure the lookouts first?”

“I think this needs to be priority. We can send a team to get the food and secure the lookouts while you head out. I think if we go in armed, any bikers in those locations will come out without a fight. Right now we have enough food, so food isn’t a priority. Electricity is our number one priority. We don’t have a generator to run our communication stations, which is integral to getting back in contact with chain of command. If you want to help, Rebel, this is your way of helping. Take Murphey and Pratt with you and head out as soon as you’re prepped,” Poche said quickly and he turned back to the maps on the table. With that, we were dismissed.
 

“You sure about this?” Zach pulled me to the side and asked.

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to check out the city, see how it’s holding up,” I shrugged.
 

“Cut the crap, Baby.” For once he didn’t catch himself on my nickname. I guess it was sticking. “Poche is acting like this is a little jaunt around the city with one of our own people. We haven’t been in the inner city since this shit went down and you’re being led around by the enemy. I don’t know what it’s like out there. I don’t think this is worth electricity.”
 

“It’s not that deep in. I know the place he’s talking about, it’s right off the interstate. We’ll be in and out. I’ll have Murphey with me. We’ve been kicking ass together since before we could drink.”
 

“Which was only a couple of years ago,” he retorted and I frowned. He had a point. I thought it was a good argument at least. Murphey and I made a good team.
 

“We’ll be fine, Zach,” I said, my tone grave to reassure him.
 

“I want to go back to our base, we did our job. They have enough men to get things running on their own, I shouldn’t be risking one of my own,” he sighed and ran a hand over his face.
 

“It’s the right thing to do,” I pointed out. “If they can make contact outside of the city, it will benefit all of us.”
 

“You’re right,” he said. “I just don’t like it.”
 

THIRTY-SIX | The Supplicant

Heather Murphey and Hannah Klink were efficient; I had to give them that.
 
They ordered a younger man called Pratt around and packed up a truck for us to use. I tried to be helpful, but it was obvious they didn’t trust me and didn’t like me wandering around behind their backs. I resigned myself to sit and observe.

They weren’t taking much. They packed food, weapons and a few odds and ends- rope, candles, matches, a tarp. Random things that might come in handy. I’m sure they had a reason, I couldn’t see it.
 

“Alright, we’re moving out,” Hannah said.
 

“You sure we have enough ammo, Baby?” Pratt asked and I watched in fascination as she grimaced and clenched her fists. I had figured out her nickname was Baby, but she didn’t care for it much.
 

“You planning something I don’t know, Pratt? Like an invasion?” she said sarcastically.
 

“I don’t want to be caught unaware,” he shot back.
 

“I’m not humping all this gear if we have to go on foot, which we might, if the interstate is blocked,” Heather added.
 

“It’s not going to be blocked,” Pratt said.
 

“I’m not taking that chance. Pack only the essentials. We shouldn’t be shooting anyway. Guns should only be used if the situation is desperate. For everything else, blades.” Hannah stared down Pratt who was shaking his head as if he didn’t agree with her.
 

She was right. Guns would attract too much attention, it was better to use blades. As if she sensed my thoughts, she turned to me and regarded me. She had pulled a box from the shelving unit the Army was using as weapons and equipment storage. She pulled out my machete. It was the blade I was wearing when they attacked. She had taken it off me and now she handed it back to me.
 

“Don’t make me regret this,” she said softly as she placed it in my hand.
 

“You won’t,” I said just as quietly.
 

“I don’t feel comfortable only packing handguns,” Pratt griped from the corner, an M4 in his hands.

“Shut the hell up, Pratt.” Heather pushed a pack toward him, making him put the M4 down. “Here’s your gear, get it to the truck. You better wise up quick, kid, and start respecting your superiors.” She pushed him out of the room, and followed with her pack on her back.
 

I strapped my machete onto my waist using the makeshift holster I had fashioned. I picked up the pack meant for me, Hannah did the same.
 

She began to follow the other two out of the base, but I stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. She turned to me, a questioning look on her face.
 

“I’m serious about this mission, Hannah, I don’t have anything up my sleeve, or any bad intentions. I was a member of the club only because of my father and it was the only thing I knew. I was planning on leaving. I know I’m guilty by association and I accept that. I’ll stay and make my amends, and if this is the way I can prove myself, I’ll do my damnedest.”
 

“Is that your goal? To prove yourself to my group?” she asked, looking at me with those big blue eyes. She was so tiny, but then she was so unbelievably strong, it was ironic and inspiring. I had always been insecure about barely hitting the six foot mark, especially when I was surrounded by overly aggressive bikers that stood inches taller than me.
 
She was lucky if she was five foot and yet she could probably drop me. It was sobering.

“There’s only one person I feel I have to prove myself to,” I said honestly. She cocked her head to the side and looked at me strangely and then her eyes widened as she got my meaning. Her lips parted in a quiet little “oh” of surprise.
 

 
Her surprise made her features soften as a soft blush crossed her cheeks. I felt myself falling over the edge. I had tried to keep myself in check. I couldn’t want this woman, it would only get me in trouble. I would be left wanting, left feeling unworthy. Because I was unworthy. I was nothing compared to her. I was a coward. I was a follower.
 

And she was everything I wasn’t.
 

I couldn’t help but want her. I wanted to be a man she respected, any man would. She was amazing. She was also staring at me as if there could be something there. Something she saw in me. Something that might be worthy.
 

I could only claim temporary insanity. I was lost in that look. Lost in those blue eyes.
 

I leaned down and kissed her. Her lips tasted like strawberries from the homemade chapstick I watched her put on ten minutes ago.
 
I had to make it worth it, because I knew it wouldn’t last. I knew she would smarten up and see me for what I was. So I put everything behind my kiss.
 

At first she let me; she might have kissed me back. For one-second her lips parted and she breathed me in. I melted under her soft lips and nearly came undone when with one tug she pulled on my lips with her mouth, opening under my exploration. Then she stiffened as if she suddenly realized what was happening.
 

I should have seen it coming. I should be grateful she pulled her punch at the last minute. Her fist connected with my cheek. Pulled punch, or not it still hurt like a bitch. I saw stars as I dropped to my knees in front her, a supplicant to her. I had a taste of Hannah Klink. Only one taste. Now, I wanted more.
 

THIRTY-SEVEN | Prove It