[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

guess.
Another shot rings out and one of Tax's men shoves him out of the way only to get hit
in the shoulder. His body pinwheels over the edge of the building, and it's like a switch
has been flicked. More Bested by Crows members spill out from behind the chain link
fence at our right, leaving bleeding bodies where Seventy-seven Brothers' sentries were
stationed.
 Shit a bitch, I growl, rising to my feet and holstering my gun, switching it out for the
crowbar I stuffed down the back of my damn pants. I hear Beck's battle whoop a split
second before my ears go dumb from the sound of so many guns going off around me.
Bullets whiz by, but I don't pay 'em much nevermind. Beck's a Goddamn battle axe, but
I'm a limber son of a bitch. I don't have to pull any Matrix shit though because these guys
are here with a different purpose  to disarm us motherfuckers.
I slam my crowbar into the arm of the first guy that charges me. Call me a pussy if you
want, but I don't exactly enjoy the feeling of a weapon crushing a man's skull. I leave that
shit to Beck Evans.
Or to Melissa Diamond.
I wonder if she's changed her name? I think as she takes a baseball bat and swings it
for a home run. The man I attacked collapses to his knees, bending low with blood
streaming down the sides of his face. Melissa doesn't let it end there, and I force myself to
turn away. Don't need to see that shit. I push through the crowd, hitting guys out of the
way as I go. I'm not exactly a martial arts expert, so I won't be missed much in the melee
of things. What I can do is take a wild guess on what's going on here.
I manage to make it to the back of the crowd, moving into an empty space in the back
gravel of the parking lot. I look around quickly, trying to get a lay of the land so to speak.
 Where'd they come from? Tax asks, showing up at my side with a half-dozen guys.
 I'm not sure, I say, leading the way and ducking under the chain link fence. Tax and
his guys follow me, moving across the pavement at a low run. When we come around the
corner of a rusted outbuilding, we run into a group of guys I didn't expect.
With motherfucking machine guns.
 Holy shit. I draw back before they see me and hold out my arm to stop Tax from
moving forward.  Holy shit, I whisper, thinking maybe I underestimated the situation a
bit. My guess was that there were some guys waiting in the wings, getting ready to flank
us or some shit. What I didn't expect were Goddamn machine guns. I ain't no gun expert,
but I think they're M16s.
I gesture back at the fence, and move without waiting to see if Tax is following. I have
no plans on getting ripped full of bullet holes. Son of a bitch.
 What? Tax demands as soon as we're on the other side of the fence, backs pressed
against the brick building where I started just a few, agonizing minutes ago. When I
thought we might escape without violence. What a fuckin' crock.
 There's a group of guys back there with M16s, I snap at him, wiping sweat from my
forehead. I glance around the corner and notice that the tide has turned. The Bested by
Crows members have subtly moved the fight back towards Broken Dallas. Fucking genius.
I don't have to tell Tax what I'm thinking. They're going to slaughter us. All of us. Code of
the Road? What the fuck was I thinking?
 We need to get out of here, I tell Tax, but he's already moving away from me.  Where
the fuck are you going? I growl at him, following after his back. He moves around the
fence, keeping his voice low when he responds.
 Taking care of business, he snaps.
My lip curls, but I stay with him, wondering if maybe I might learn something. Tax has
been President for awhile now, and I've only ever heard impressive things about Seventy-
seven Brothers.
We move around the fence, pausing right about where the men with the fucking
machine guns were standing. Tax moves slowly towards the fence and pauses to peek
through. I don't know how much he can see. This shit ain't chain link, and the wood is [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]