Shaking my head, I covered my ears, trying to get the loud ringing to stop.
Dust and debris fell all around me as I tried to get my bearings. Rolling onto my knees, I coughed, gasping for air. Reaching for my gun, I stood. My legs shook as I blinked several times to get my eyes to focus.
When they did, I stood there in disbelief as men dressed in all black moved systematically forward, shooting anyone still breathing. Brothers moaning on the ground, who survived the explosion only to die from a bullet to the head.
These men were professionals.
Mercenaries.
Here to do one thing.
Eradicate the Golden Skulls.
Moving, I raised my weapon, shooting indiscriminately.
Fucker wanted to play, then let’s play.
The carnage was incomprehensible. So much destruction, I knew not everyone survived. From my vantage point, I knew who was here. I saw them all. Even the ones who attacked. Why Reaper decided to go through with this farce, I would never know. It was his funeral, but when his actions caused good people’s deaths, I had a problem.
Making my way through the rubble, I shot men before they could kill my brothers.
I wasn’t the only one, either.
I spotted Giovanni and my sister Layla shooting, trying to save as many as possible.
Men I once called brothers now lay dead on the ground.
All because of one fucked up sadistic son of a bitch with an ax to grind. When I got my hands on that mother fucker, I was going to put a bullet between his eyes and make sure his head exploded before my eyes. I was not taking any chances where this fucker was concerned.
So much death and for what?
The clubhouse was gone.
Obliterated in one fantastic explosion. Debris still reigned down as I approached the chaos. Those who managed to survive were slowly waking up, shouting for those who would never respond again.
Spotting a body on the ground near me, I kneeled down to check his pulse. I closed my eyes and cursed when there wasn’t one. “I’m so sorry Chaos.”
Getting up, I carefully moved around fires burning out of control, shooting another fucker dead before he could get off a shot. The bastard fell backward, next to Massacre, who lay motionless on the ground. Rolling him onto his back, I tried to ignore the blood seeping from his chest. It was bad. So was the fact that his cousin, Luciano, lay next to him. His eyes were void as he stared into nothing.
Fuck, this is bad.
Lightly slapping Massacre’s face, I whispered. “Come on Mass. Wake the fuck up. You’re not dying today.”
“Reggie?” he moaned, opening his eyes.
“No man. It’s Dylan.”
“Where’s Reggie? He was right there,” Massacre coughed, blood spewing from his mouth. “He needs me.”
I took a deep breath, hung my head and sighed as I reached for his hand. I knew he was dying. I’d seen wounds like his before. There was nothing I could do. Doing the only thing I could, I whispered. “Reggie’s waiting, brother. They all are. It’s okay. I’ll take care of everything. You can rest now brother. I’ve got your back.”
I knew the moment he closed his eyes he was gone.
Looking around the bloodbath, I didn’t know where to start.
I couldn’t stay and help the dead. But I could help the living. I had to concentrate on that. Most importantly, I needed to find her and get her the fuck out of here if she was still alive.
“Dylan!” I heard Layla shout behind me, right before I heard a weapon discharge. Turning, I stood as a man dressed in all black fell to the ground. Layla and Giovanni came running toward me as I waived them off. They didn’t need to see this. Giovanni had already lost two members of his family. I didn’t know what he would do if he saw Massacre and Luciano. Instead, I used my body to block the dead as I shouted. “Get the survivors! Anyone not in a Skulls cut, shoot to kill!”