Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
I’m not sure how long I sit beside the road. There hasn’t been any other traffic except for two more bikers. They’re not part of the Feral’s, but I still hid from them. Luckily, these guys barely noticed my car. They did slow down, but I kept crouched down like a coward. To be fair, I don’t know these guys and I had no idea if I could trust them. They left without issue, but I still just kept sitting here like an idiot. It has to have been a good twenty minutes since the Feral Kings riders passed me. Surely, they would be far gone by now. The other two didn’t seem to be dangerous—or at least have any ill intent. So, I’m not really that worried about them.
I send up a silent prayer for protection and decide to start going again. To be safe, I keep my speed slow. I don’t want to risk running into them again. Getting the attention of any member of the Feral MC is very bad for your health. The whole town has seen that over the last few months.
I drive for a bit, and my heart rate is just now starting to get back to normal. I’m even contemplating speeding up. That’s when I hear the unmistakable sound of gunfire. I let out a startled shriek, my body jerking in response. Fear courses through me as I white-knuckle my steering wheel. I can tell it’s just right up the road from here I’m at. It also doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure the sound probably came from the assholes who taunted me earlier. If there’s one thing about the Feral MC that most of Maggie Valley knows, it’s that they love to shoot up the town and its people.
Shit. If I’m right, they’ll likely circle back around to make sure I don’t find out what—or who—they shot at. Heck, they might decide to circle back just to torture me some more. I was lucky they left me alone the first time. They aren’t known for letting an opportunity pass them by. Last month, they raped two women in town. The crime was reported—not that the local law did shit about it. Those women left the area quickly afterward. I would leave myself—I just don’t have that option. At least, not right now. I truly am working on it. I just need to make sure my beautiful daughter can at least have a roof over her head when we move. I’ve put in some job applications, but to date, I’ve not heard anything back. It’s getting me down. I can’t lie. I thought it would be easy to find a job. Vets willing to work for others and not hang their own shingle out aren’t very common. I love owning my own business, but I’d let it go in a heartbeat to make sure me and my daughter are safe.
I quickly decide to cut off onto an old service road that leads back to a gas well. I’ve seen my friend Cooper turn off here many times. He works on gas lines. He and his wife bring their thirteen-year-old German Shepherd to me for care and they’re always doing sweet things for me and my Tinny.
They maintain service roads pretty well out this way. I figure it can’t be that bad. I’m hoping I can hide there until I can make sure that the bikers are long gone. I pull my vehicle off to the side of the dirt road, parking behind a bunch of overgrown brush in hopes that it hides my car enough. I don’t think they’ll come looking for me, but I want to be safe.
Next, I start scaling the hill, to make my way toward where I think the gunfire came from. I truly do want to see what happened, but I must do it safely. I’m terrified. I can’t afford to get caught up in anything to do with that damn gang—and that’s exactly what they are. They’re pure evil. Yet, I couldn’t live with myself if they attacked another woman and left her to die. One of the women before lost her vision because they beat her so badly. The memory of seeing how broken she was still haunts me.
I carefully make my way to the top of the rocky hill. There’s a large rock along the edge, and I hold on to it as I hunker down and look at the road below. As I take in the scene, I’m afraid to make a noise. At first glance, it looks like the two unknown bikers that passed me piled it up in a steep curve. One is face down in the road, beside a big tree, his bike on its side. The other guy is much bigger, and he’s face down, too. He’s to the side, by a guardrail. My first instinct is to go down the hill and try to help. That’s when I see those assholes from the Ferals come out of hiding. They’re each packing rifles on their back. It’s clear they shot them down. The two unknown men didn’t really have a chance.