Page 73 of Reaper

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“So, you and Kitty…”

“Are just friends.”

“Son of a bitch,” Ghost sighed. “Savage is really going to beat your ass when he finds out.”

“No, I won’t,” Savage said from behind them. Instead of a knockdown drag-out fight, I watched as Savage clasped Bullseye on his shoulder and said, “Thank you for protecting my sister when I couldn’t.”

“That’s beautiful,” Massacre said, grinning as he wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “I missed you boys so much. But can we save the love and hugs for later? Savage and I checked the clubhouse. It’s empty. We still have one other house on the property, and the boys are refusing to get closer to it. The smell is something else, Reaper. It’s death.”

“Dear God,” Bullseye coughed, covering his nose as we all walked towards the old house deep in the muggy bayou. The thick heat was drenching as flies, mosquitos, and other insects I didn’t want to know about flew around us. Before us, the building was dilapidated, damn near falling apart as the earth started to reclaim the land. Moss and vines covered the east side, while the front was barely standing.

I knew going in there was going to be bad.

The smell was horrendous, but inside was going to be much worse.

“Masks on,” I said, fitting my mask over my face. I still hadn’t found Remi, and I feared she was somewhere in the house instead of the several outbuildings we’d already checked. The longer it was taking me to find her, the more anxious I was becoming.

“Reaper,” Chaos whispered. “I don’t know if I can go in there.”

I understood. I really did. No one should have to see what was before us, and I wasn’t going to make them. “Anyone not wanting to go in, stay out here, scout the area and secure it. Any fucker that looks healthy gets a shot to the head.”

Chaos nodded and turned away, along with Ink, Chisel, and Bayou.

The second we all stepped inside, we all knew that this operation was more than a rescue. It was about saving what humanity was left in this place. “Savage tell Healer and the local sheriff to call for reinforcements. They’re going to need help.”

“Holy fuck,” Ghost muttered. “How are we going to find her in this place?”

“Everyone, listen up!” I shouted. “I want everyone to pair up. Pick a room. Take the living to Healer. As for the dead, be respectful, gentle. They’ve been through enough. We will not disrespect them in death. Take their bodies to the side of the house for identification. We knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Take your time, but make sure every room is cleared. If anyone comes across Remi, call out immediately. But everyone alive gets their freedom today. Understood?”

Everyone nodded, paired off, and headed to a room.

Ghost and I took the furthest room to our left.

Opening the door, we walked into hell.

I’d seen some sick shit in my life, but the things in this room were beyond belief. Men, women, and children were chained naked to the walls, everywhere I could see. They were emaciated, starving, lying in their own feces and urine. Some were whipped so badly I could see and smell the infection emanating from them through my mask.

Ghost coughed then started to gag.

If I could wipe this room from existence, I would have instantly. Bodies were piled upon each other like discarded rags as if their lives meant nothing. Some were still moving, while others had gone onto a better existence, free of the torture they endured here on earth. Children whimpered, women crouched closer to the walls, men stared, waiting.

“What do we do?” Ghost asked.

I didn’t know. For the first time in my life, I didn’t know what to do. Looking at the survivors in the room, I wanted so much to avenge them, give them some sort of satisfaction, but I didn’t know-how. How could I give them back some semblance of their former lives? I couldn’t. All I could do was save them today and pray they found the courage to live in the aftermath of what they’d been through.

Taking off my mask, it took everything in me not to gag.

Instead, I ignored the need to vomit and said, “My name is Reaper. I am here to help.”

Walking to the closest person to me, I knelt and asked, “What is your name?”

“Matthew Riley.”

“How old are you, Matthew?”

“I don’t know.”

“How old were you when you were taken?”


Tags: Rebecca Joyce Dark