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Onyx and Cass stood on either side, both attempting to shift the Harley with a strength neither possessed.
“Cass, get your fucking sister before she hurts herself more,” Red ordered.
The woman, Lil Bit, concussed for sure seemed to be tripping on the moment had no sense of self or what was happening when Cass held her shoulders.
Adrenaline coursed through Mountain’s veins like an acid building up his muscles as he reached down and lifted the bike as if it were a moped and not a Street Glide Harley he had no business lifting.
Red and Onyx pulled Baldy out.
Cass dragged his sister away.
Mountain dropped the eight hundred pounds of metal back to the pavement with a crash. Lil’ Bit tried to crawl to Baldy’s side and a broken ankle was clearly evident from the bone protruding out of her leg..
Mountain couldn’t do anything for the pair, he wasn’t an EMT or knew anything beyond what Red had trained in basic first aid. This was so far from basic, he wasn’t sure what he could do but stand there looking like simp the fool. Others would need him because Baldy had to have Red and Roadkill keeping him stable. Besides, Lil’ Mama and Topaz were coming to calm down Lil’ Bit whose cries for her husband were tearing at his soul.
Popping around the ass end of the trailer, he went to check on the others. The first thing he saw was Hollywood dragging the distraught truck driver from the cab of his truck by his throat.
“You son-of-a-bitch,” Hollywood howled.
Mountain rushed to restrain the man. At six-six the former Division one lineman had few that could contain him. Especially, when there was a mix of anger, fear and rage coursing through his veins.
Mountain being close to six-ten and with a good hundred pounds over the man was the only one in the MC that had a chance. Catching him at the elbows, Mountain ended up swinging both Hollywood and the driver around. “It wasn’t his fault,” Mountain shouted trying to control the man fighting to get away. “There’s a pick-up truck in the ditch over there if you need a pound of flesh.”
“What?” Hollywood asked, his body still tense, but releasing a bit.
“A truck was weaving in and out of traffic. He cut the guy off.”
“It’s true,” the driver choked out. “He hit me, I was trying to stop because other cars were around and over corrected. I called it in.”
“Fuck,” Hollywood said, releasing the man and glancing at the carnage on the road. “You good to do traffic control, Mountain?”
“Huh?” Mountain’s head was spinning. Cries, smoke and too much going on was overloading his system.
“This is Montana, people speed by accidents, going ninety all the time. They come through before we get this cleared and we’re gonna be fucked.”
Mountain nodded and surveyed the roadway. It needed to be cleared, just in case someone did come barreling along.
Shark and Lyna were both trying to stand up.
Mountain reached them and ordered, “Move over to the ditch, but stay down you two. Wait for help. You were in a bad accident.” He motioned for Half-Wit to help them off the pavement after making sure they were going to be okay, he ran over to Ax and Tempest.
They were trapped under the bike. Both were conscious and holding their own.
“Hold on let me help you. I can lift the bike.” Mountain hefted up the bike by the handle bars and set it upright. Somehow, it was heavier than Baldy’s even with the blood rushing though his body.
The two stumbled a bit and made their way to the side of the road. They were bruised and bloody. Several scrapes on their faces and hands. Thankfully, they were protected by the leather they each chose to wear and waved him off.
Stepping toward his bike where Cinnamon stood a bit paralyzed, he took out the sawed off shotgun he kept in his saddlebag.
The driver of the truck ran after him with flairs and cones to set up a block the best way they could.
Orange cones, flares burning bright and if that didn’t stop you—a six-ten three hundred and fifty pound biker was ready to blow the block off your engine.
