Page 71 of Ghost

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“No,” Matrix sighed. “The man is off the reservation.”

“Fuck,” I growled. “Someone give me something?”

“Um, Mr. Ghost, was Ari still wearing that necklace Mom gave her?”

“The pink thing? Yeah. She had it on this morning, along with a white tank, low-cut denim jeans with purple flowers on the back pockets, and her new black riding boots. Why?”

Massacre and Ravage grinned but said nothing as they listened.

“Okay, give me one sec,” Sypher said and instantly shouted. “Eureka! She is traveling southbound on Interstate 75, heading towards Atlanta, Georgia. She just crossed over the state line. She’s about an hour and a half ahead of you. She is traveling fast too.”

“Syphers got her!” I shouted, jumping on my bike. “Keep me posted, kid, and Phantom, contact Reaper and the Tennessee chapter. I’m going to kill every mother fucking one of the sons of a bitches who took her.” With that, I ended the call and peeled out of the parking lot.

The road was too long. No matter how hard I pushed my bike, it seemed the road would never end. I wasn’t familiar with this area and let Ravage take the lead as I followed him in and out of traffic. And no matter how many times I looked at my watch, time was getting away from me. I couldn’t stop my heart from beating so fast. The urgency I felt, the need to get to her, was unsurmountable. It was almost suffocating.

I still didn’t know who took her, what they had done to her, was she hurt? I tried not to think of that. It only made my anxiety run rapidly, and my anger burst forth. In my mind, all I kept seeing was her crying, begging me to help her, to save her. She was scared and didn’t do anything to deserve being taken. She was innocent, everything good in this world, and I was the devil himself. I would destroy everything in my path to get to her.

Moving swiftly along the interstate, I didn’t pay attention to anything. Focused only on her and my need to get to her, I didn’t see the other bikes come up behind me. I knew they would come. They always did. I appreciated them more than I could ever say. Knowing my brothers had my back was a tremendous relief.

Following Ravage, as he took an exit, I felt my heart beat faster. We were getting close. I knew it. No one had to tell me. I could feel the tension in the air. Yet, I worried when Ravage pulled off into a gas station. “Why are we stopping?”

“Sypher texted.”

“What did he say?”

“To call him,” Ravage said, holding his phone to his ear. I waited as patiently as I could, which probably wasn’t awfully long before I shouted. “What!”

Instead of answering me, Ravage held up a finger, telling me to wait. Any other person and I would have snapped that finger off, but he was trying to help, so I keep myself in check. I wanted to get back on the road. The longer we sat here, the easier it would be to lose her.

“Where are we?” I asked, looking at the area around me.

“Fifty miles south of the State Line. We are about forty-five minutes from Atlanta.” Slaughter said, making his presence known. Looking around, I saw several brothers from the Tennessee chapter along with Massacre and Viper, who I thought left with Reaper yesterday to head home.

“Who’s with Reaper?” I asked him.

“Chaos.”

Nodding, I was about to yell at Ravage again when he said, “Okay, Ari’s tracker places her at the Atlanta Airport. We need to hurry.”

“Tracker?” Massacre asked. “I thought they were all removed.”

“The necklace Roxy gave her. Sypher embeds trackers in everything we wear, just in case. Let’s go. We’re not far from the turn-off to the airport.”

About forty minutes later, I saw the sign for the Atlanta International Airport. Smiling, I gunned my bike, eager to wrap my hands around the fuckers’ neck who took my woman. Hell had arrived, and this time, I brought friends.

We bypassed the arriving and departures for commercial planes and headed off towards several terminals for private flights. The place was massive. So many hangers lined the runway. I started to worry if I would ever find her when I spotted a small Learjet up ahead. When Ravage pointed, I revved my engine, letting my bike take off.

As I approached the hanger, I quickly cut my engine, laying my bike down as I ran into the hanger, only to see off in the distance another plane as two men in suits pushed a woman with white, blonde hair and pink tips into the plane.

“ARI!” I shouted, running for the plane, as the men in suits closed the door. Instantly the plane started moving, taxing towards the runway. “Fuck!”

“Shoot the tires!” Massacre shouted, running behind me.

“No!” I yelled back. “Ari’s on that plane!”

But none of it mattered. The harder I ran, the further the plane moved. Logically I knew there was no way I was going to stop that plane. I wasn’t Superman, no matter how hard I tried to be. As my feet touched the grass lining the runway, I watched as the plane sped past and lifted into the air. Suddenly I was lifted off the ground and thrown back several feet, landing hard on my back as my head collided with the concrete pavement.

My body ached, and I didn’t know why. I could see brothers rolling around on the ground next to me, one not moving at all. Turning, I tried to see what happened, and all I saw off in the distance were several firetrucks moving fast as fiery debris rained down from the sky.


Tags: Rebecca Joyce Dark