Page 5 of Property of Zombie

Pilot runs Anarchy Air, which is primarily used for the club’s drug running, but it’s also used to cater to community members as a perk for having the club’s back when it comes to our more unsavory tasks.

“Pretty good,” he replies, tapping his fingers on the table. “Martin wouldn’t shut up about the new lead vet at the zoo. Apparently, she’s ‘made for fucking’. His words, not mine.”

“Still can’t believe Dr. Binks retired,” Romeo states. “He’s been a fixture in the community for as long as I can remember.”

“He’s also been a good ally,” Sawbone adds, his gaze cutting to mine. “Gonna have to work on the new doc if we want access to the same shit.”

“Consider it done.”

“What about Death’s Door?” Lyric asks Undertaker. “Haven’t had a funeral in a while.”

Undertaker scowls. “Don’t remind me. Maybe we should generate some business.”

“I think I can help with that,” Pilot states, and all eyes turn to him. “When Martin wasn’t gushing about the new vet, he let it slip that he’s working on a deal with a man to purchase the old factory down the road.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Lyric snarls. “Part of our deal with Martin is that he won’t sell any of the property surrounding ours without our express consent.”

Rolling my neck, I huff out a laugh. “Since when did we actually trust Michael Martin? He might pretend to be on the level, but he’s a greedy asshole who will do whatever he has to in order to keep the money rolling in.”

“When Martin was letting information slip, did he happen to drop a name for this buyer?” Lyric asks.

Pilot grins. “He did. Morris Baker.”

“I did a quick check into Baker,” Scrubs, our cleaner, says. Not only is he the best when it comes to physical crime scenes, but he’s also a top-notch tech guy. “On the surface, he appears legit. Forty-two, never married, no kids, born into money. He’s purchased properties all over the country and turns them into whatever the community needs while also creating jobs.”

“Sounds like a goddamn paragon of virtue,” Pastor snaps. “What’s the dirt on him?”

Scrubs smirks. “While he’s winning over communities, he’s also infecting them. And his choice of poison… fentanyl.”

Lyric smiles at Undertaker, and it’s not the kind of smile that invokes happiness. Rather, it’s evil, and anyone who sees it would be wise to fear our Pres. “There ya go. Take Trick and Quake, and pay Mr. Baker a visit. Then go see Martin and remind him of what will happen if he chooses to move forward with a deal that hasn’t been approved by Kings of Anarchy.”

“I’ll also have a chat with him at the gala,” I say. “Never hurts to double down on the reminders.”