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With that, Zaiden watched as he drove the truck away.
* * *
Unbeknownst to Nathan,the Jokers had been tracking him down. They wanted to find out who had stolen the bike, and all signs pointed to him.
Nathan was very perceptive, so when he heard the sound of bikes coming uninvited, he pulled out his gun. The U-Haul was already on its way to Alabama. It was only him and Zaiden on the property and Zaiden was hot-footing it to his bike.
Zaiden had the box with the evidence against him. He didn’t want to lose his life for the bike if Nathan was about to shoot him or the bikers that were headed their way. He’d chase the U-Haul down and change his plan.
Zaiden didn’t think for a second it would be the Jokers coming to the property. He couldn’t see a connection between them and Nathan and as far as he could tell no one knew that he had brought the bike to Nathan’s.
His heart was pounding in his chest, and his mind racing with thoughts of Nathan’s betrayal. Had his colleague set him up…just as he himself had planned to do? Was it Nathan’s men coming to take him out?
Zaiden was gone before the first of the bikers arrived and as he raced down the road, he was surprised that no one followed.
* * *
The Jokers thunderedonto Nathan’s property, their intention clear – to interrogate him about the missing bike. Fear and anger, however, pushed Nathan into reacting. Gun in hand, he aimed at the oncoming bikers.
The Jokers were swift and ruthless. Guns were drawn in an instant, and a burst of retaliatory gunfire echoed across the property. Nathan dropped, his body lifeless, before he could even pull the trigger.
After the sounds of the shootout had died down, they moved in, and checked his body. His actions left no doubt in their minds that he had been involved in the theft of the bike. And the distinct tire track of the old bike’s confirmed that. But where had the bike been taken?
“That bike…” Chains said, referring to Zaiden as he disappeared into the distance as they were arriving.
Blackheart nodded in response. “Let’s roll, guys. We can still catch him.” And with that, they left Nathan where he lay, and gave chase.
* * *
Zaiden heard the shooting,so he stopped up the road after realizing that no one was giving chase. He idled his bike closer to Nathan’s while maintaining a safe distance, being careful not to be seen. From behind a row of trees at the side of the road he could see that it was the Jokers who had opened fire.
His mind was racing.What the fuck are they doing there? Shit, they’ll be after me now. They know we stole the bike. At least Nathan wouldn’t have had time to talk.
As Zaiden continued to watch, he noticed the Jokers glancing around until their attention locked onto him. Chains was pointing in his direction. And they were heading out from Nathan’s property where they’d stopped at the gate…towards him.
With a surge of adrenaline, Zaiden quickly executed a U-turn, and gunned his bike like there was no tomorrow. The way they dealt with Nathan still rang in his ears, making him dread what he’d be in for if those Jokers caught up. The idea of catching a bullet was hanging in the air, cranking up the pressure to haul ass and make sure they didn’t get their hands on him.
* * *
It didn’t take longfor Zaiden to spot the U-Haul up ahead. But damn, it was parked on the side of the road, and the loading ramp was down, driver and motorcycle inside. What the hell was going on?
He eased off the throttle and approached cautiously, seeing the driver adjusting the tie-downs.They must’ve come loose. As the driver glanced up and recognized Zaiden, he stood up and frantically waved him over.
With the Jokers hot on his tail, Zaiden had no choice but to make a split-second decision. He gunned the throttle and sped away, leaving the scene behind.
The Jokers would arrive any minute, getting their hands back on the bike. Nothing he could do about that now. If he made it through this mess in one piece, there’d be other bikes to steal in the future.
* * *
Once Zaiden wassure they were no longer chasing him, he stopped off at the side of the road for a rest and to check what he had come originally come for.
His patience was wearing thin; the box was proving to be a tougher nut to crack than he’d initially thought. He’d tried to unlock it with his pocketknife, but he wasn’t having any luck. He then tried to wrench open the lid, using his bigger knife under the edge of the lid. He wondered what damning evidence it contained. He intended to check it out then trash it forever.
But the fucking box wouldn’t open no matter what he tried. Pissed off, Zaiden threw it to the ground, hoping the impact might split it open. When that didn’t work, he decided to stomp on it, his boot crashing down onto the box with enough force to shatter it to pieces.
Bending down to inspect the remnants, he was taken aback. Amongst the pieces was a piece of paper, a band keeping it snugly wrapped around something. With a flick of his fingers, the band slid off, and a bullet clinked to the ground. He picked it up, and the paper, turning the paper over. As he read the scribbled words, his blood heated up, his rage surging like a raging river.
Right then and there, he made up his mind. Papa Samedi’s was where he was heading next. He was going to do what he should’ve done the last time he was there. The old bastard’s days were numbered.
