Protect & Serve(199)

There weren’t thirty or forty bikers.

The roll call was way bigger than that.

There must have been at least seventy motorcycles in the circular crowd, each one beneath a menacing biker. I could barely make out the emblems, but none of them looked familiar – and at a glance, there were five, maybe six different clubs represented here.

Holy shit, I thought to myself.

These are the FEW friends he requested?

Hunter held a hand up to my torso, pausing me near the steps. We shared a quick, meaningful glance as his club fanned out around me; I knew they were here to greet the other clubs, but they almost seemed protective as they flanked me from behind and on both sides.

I took the hint. With my breath caught in my lungs, I watched Hunter step alone into the clearing they had left for him.

In response, the rival bikers revved their engines in acknowledgement.

With the rest of us hanging back at his request, Hunter stood tall before them all. As if trying to quell the rising tension, the breeze picked up, whipping the long hair of some of the bikers.

“I am in your debt,” he shouted, fully grasping the mantle of Devil’s Dragons motorcycle club president. “Understand that I would not call upon all of you without just cause, but a mutual enemy has come.”

“And who would that be?” One of the more vicious bikers demanded to know, leaning forward against his handlebars. “I think I speak for a lot of us when I say that this had better be good, boy.”

Undeterred, Hunter squared his shoulders.

“I have summoned all of you here to help me face Víboras Verde – The Vipers of the Green.”

Murmuring rose among the crowd.

“Some of you will know that name, I expect. Others will not. It has been a long time since they have meddled with our desert.” Hunter spoke to all of them. “For those in the dark, let me tell you a story of the monsters we face…”

In unspoken agreement, the bikers merely listened, some of them positioning themselves more casually on their silent motorcycles.

“I don’t know how far back this cartel stretches. They’re an established presence, but they’re smaller fish. They are not indestructible. I’ve faced them before, with my brothers here…”

Hunter paused, waving back towards the assembled bikers around me. “…And we have made them bleed,” he continued with conviction. “We hit them on their own turf, and we hit them hard. Hard enough that I didn’t hear a thing out of them for almost eight years…”

One of the bikers nearest Hunter spoke up. He was a wiry, elderly thing – too far away for me to make out any discerning details, but I could barely discern a heavy scar down the side of his face.

The rival president, I remembered. Hunter had specifically called for this one, and he was important enough that he sent Grizz out into the night to secure him…

“And I suppose you’re gonna be leading the charge?”

Hunter nodded solemnly.

The elderly biker laughed, his chest rattling with old age. “Tell us, Hunter… What have these people done that forces you to call upon the rest of us?”

The rest watched quietly.

Hunter stood his ground. “This cartel deals in the trafficking of women and children – all to be sold into sexual slavery to the most disgusting crime lords and mobs you can imagine. And they aren’t waiting for their victims to come into Mexico anymore…”

The bikers visibly stiffened, glancing between each other. It was clear that they did not take kindly to hearing these words.

“Eight years ago, they made things very personal for me,” he confessed gravely. “The fuckers came for my sister – and with the help of the Devil’s Dragons I was able to save her… ”

He paused, choosing his words.

“Now, they have returned, and they are stronger than ever,” Hunter growled, turning purposefully to gaze upon several bikers in the crowd. I could see the burning hatred in his eyes as he updated them on the evil of their enemy.

“These monsters are not kidnapping tourists in Mexico anymore – they’re crossing our border, coming into our turf and stealing teenage girls. These poor, lost souls are forced into drug addiction, kept in the shittiest hovels you can possibly imagine, before they are auctioned off to the highest international bidder – and forced into endless, abominable rape for the rest of their short, miserable lives.”

The entire crowd was silent as they listened to his speech. I watched as Hunter captivated them, his movements focused, powerful, and symbolic.

“Víboras Verde has taken over fifteen girls in the last two weeks, stealing them away across the border to be left to their fates. But now… we know where they’re going, and it’s closer than we suspected.”