It was about 9:30 a.m., and Cole was standing with Angel and Crash. The rest of the guys had already headed out to wait at the underpass.
“Here he comes,” Crash announced, indicating Chuck, who was walking toward them.
Cole turned and addressed Chuck. “About time.”
“Just got the call. Said he should be there by 10 a.m.”
“Good,” Cole replied. “Let’s head out now, then.”
Chuck noticed Crash. “I thought it was just gonna be you,” he said to Cole.
“The rest of the club already headed out. Crash is riding back with us,” Cole replied, his arm hooking around Angel’s shoulder and pulling her close as he stared Chucky down. “That a problem?”
Chuck’s eyes moved between the three of them. “It’s just that I told him it would only be you and me. He doesn’t like surprises.”
“It’ll be fine. You worry too much, Chucky. Come on. Let’s go. I’m tired of standing around here.”
“Yeah. Okay,” Chuck agreed, knowing that when a member of the Evil Dead spoke, if you were a member of the Dead Souls, you jumped. He headed off to his bike.
Cole, Angel, and Crash were mounted and waiting for him when he pulled up.
“Lead the way,” Cole shouted over the revving engines. Chucky pulled out, and Cole and Crash fell in behind him.
As they crossed the overpass Cole and Crash looked at each other and nodded. Cole glanced back and noticed one of his brothers walk a few feet out from under the overpass. Cole gave a thumbs up to Crash. Chucky was in front, seemingly oblivious.
A few seconds later they pulled onto an exit ramp to the rest area. A sign indicated it was closed. There were a couple of construction horses with flashing warning lights barricading the way, but they were easy to go around. Cole saw that even a vehicle would be able to get around them.
They proceeded down the exit and followed it around a curve. Cole glanced around and saw that they could not see the interstate any longer. They came to an area that divided the flow of traffic with a sign pointing cars to the left and trucks to the right. They followed Chuck to the left. There were diagonally marked parking spots along a sidewalk that fronted along an abandoned building that housed the restrooms and tourist information desk. It was all boarded up. The grass was overgrown and weeds grew through the cracks of the sidewalk. The place was deserted.
Chuck stopped his bike in the lane.
Cole and Crash stopped behind him.
They all dismounted.
Chuck lit a cigarette. “So, patch over, man. Huh?”
Cole nodded. “Yeah. You ready to wear the angel-of-death on your back?”
“Ready? Hell, lookin’ forward to it.”
“Right.” Cole slid a look to Crash, who rolled his eyes. Chuck missed the exchange. Cole continued with the small talk, wanting to distract Chuck from becoming suspicious. “So, how many guys you think will stay on?”
“Shit. Half those bastards will walk.”
“Really? That many?”
“Yeah. They think they’re tough. But when it comes down to it—”
The sound of an approaching vehicle had them all turning to look toward the road. A moment later a white cargo van was heading toward them. It pulled up and stopped.
Cole could see there was no one in the passenger seat. Good news. He glanced at Crash as if to say ‘get ready’.
The driver’s door opened, and the driver got out. He came around the front of the van and walked over to them. Cole sized him up. He was young, probably late twenties. Asian, most likely Chinese. Had an attitude. Had his chin in the air.
“Ling, this is Cole.” Chuck made the introductions. “Cole, Ling.”
“I understand you provide a ‘special product’,” Cole stated.
“Depends. What do you need?” Ling asked.
“What can you get us?” Cole countered.
Ling stared him down.
Cole stared right back.
“Caught me at a good time. Had a real good night’s work last night. Got plenty of inventory.” Ling jerked his head back toward the van.
Cole glanced back at the van, and then over at Crash. Fuck! He wasn’t counting on this. He’d assumed Ling would come alone.
Ling walked over to the back of the van.
The guys followed, knowing they were going to have to play this up.
Ling pulled the doors open. “Take your pick. You want blonde, brunette, redhead? Hell, I got it all.”
Cole and Crash looked inside the van. It was crowded with young girls, all handcuffed and gagged. There were three on each side, leaning against the walls of the van.
Cole slid a stunned look back at Crash, and then said to Ling, “Holy shit! You weren’t kiddin’.”
Crash whistled. “You got some nice stuff.”
“How much?” Cole asked.
“Thousand a piece.”
Cole whistled. “That’s kind of steep.”
“This is primo stuff, man,” Ling insisted. “Young and fresh.”
Chuck piped in. “Oh, no doubt about that. He already had a chance to sample your product.” Chuck glanced over at Angel, who was standing back by the bikes.
Ling looked over and nodded. “Right. I remember that one.”
Cole gave Chuck a deadly look. “Keep your Goddamn mouth shut, Chucky.”
Chuck closed his mouth.