Page 20 of Alice & Meg: Summer Vacation (Fallen Lords MC & Devil’s Knights MC Crossover)

Alice

It was afternoon, and the sun was high in the sky as we strolled through the Deer Park and Wildlife Zoo.

I’d lost count of how many animals we’d seen: baby goats, deer, potbellied pigs, even a kangaroo that looked like he was judging us from his shady little corner.

It smelled like hay and sunshine, and the soft buzz of happy kids and camera clicks filled the air.

There were signs posted everywhere reminding us not to feed the animals anything but the approved pellets, which we all clutched in little white paper bags.

“This place is actually kind of amazing,”

Greta admitted as she stood next to a pen of bright-eyed foxes that were playing with what looked like a dog toy.

She leaned against the railing, and her eyes narrowed like she was checking for signs of neglect.

“You haven’t tried to smuggle out a single animal yet,”

Meg teased and nudged her with her hip.

Greta snorted.

“Yet. But I gotta say, these little guys are clean, well-fed, and living better than I did in college.”

I laughed and took a step back as one of the deer tried to nose into my bag of pellets. Wrecker stood behind me, arms crossed, and watched the animal like it might suddenly try to body-check me.

“You can relax,”

I told him over my shoulder.

“Bambi here just wants a snack.”

“Not taking chances,”

he grunted.

The place was adorable in that perfectly cheesy, roadside zoo way.

There were wooden signs painted with goofy facts about each animal, and the path wound in a loop past shaded enclosures and picnic areas.

There were plenty of families around, but our group, with leather cuts, boots, and all, still drew a few second glances.

I guess it wasn’t every day a biker club and their ol’ ladies came to feed alpacas and admire wallabies.

Cyn was crouched near a pen and tried to get the attention of a particularly lazy goat who was sunbathing like it was his job.

“Hey, little dude,”

she cooed.

“Come here. I got snacks.”

“I don’t think he negotiates,”

Raven called from a bench and sipped from a water bottle.

“He’s on break.”

Cyn shook her paper bag of pellets.

“Come on. Just one cute photo for Instagram. That’s all I ask.”

I had my phone out and snapped pictures of Reva and Hero as they tried to take a selfie with a surprisingly cooperative llama. It actually leaned into Hero’s shoulder like they were best buds.

“I think that llama likes you,”

Reva said with a laugh.

“I have a very approachable energy,”

Hero replied, deadpan.

Meg and King were off by the potbellied pigs, feeding them through the slats in the fence while Meg narrated everything like a wildlife host on TV.

“And here we see the majestic swine in its natural habitat. Observe how it grunts with enthusiasm at the approach of snack time.”

“You’re a nut, babe,”

King grunted but didn’t stop smiling.

Everything was going great. Until it wasn’t.

It happened in the blink of an eye.

Adley had wandered over to an open walk-in enclosure labeled: Friendly Deer Experience. I think she read friendly and just assumed it meant safe.

I was chatting with Cyn about the best angle for llama selfies when we heard a sudden, high-pitched squeal.

“Dad!”

Everyone’s heads whipped around.

There she was. In the middle of a group of deer, maybe five or six, completely surrounded. One particularly aggressive doe was standing on her hind legs, trying to get to the bag of pellets Adley had foolishly held above her head.

“Help!”

she shouted and danced in a panicked circle.

“They’re mugging me!”

“They’re just hungry! Don’t hurt them!”

Greta yelled, clearly more concerned about the animals’ welfare than Adley’s.

“They’re gonna trample me for this corn!”

Adley cried.

Wrecker started toward her, but before he could get there, Slayer darted past him. He launched himself over the short wooden gate like a damn action movie hero.

He sprinted toward Adley, dodged a deer, and grabbed her around the waist like she weighed nothing.

“I got you,”

he barked as one of the deer nipped at her jacket.

“Let the corn go!”

Greta shouted.

“Let it goooo!”

“It’s in my sleeve!”

Adley shrieked.

“They think I’m made of snacks!”

Slayer charged with her carried bridal style, with one deer still chasing them to the very edge. When they were safely outside, he set her down.

Adley clutched her heart.

“I saw my life flash before my eyes. It was just deer. Endless deer.”

Raven clapped her hands and doubled over laughing.

“You almost got taken out by Bambi’s mom.”

Greta, of course, was unbothered.

“That doe had spirit. I like her.”

“That doe was feral,”

Adley muttered.

Slayer handed her his bag of animal feed.

“You can have mine.”

She stared at it like it was cursed. “Burn it.”

We all gathered around her, laughing, teasing, patting her on the back like she’d just survived something life-threatening.

“You can say you are a total snack now,”

Cyn teased.

“That’s a compliment, right?”

Adley asked.

“Absolutely,”

Meg grinned.

We moved on after that, visiting the aviary where birds landed on your arm for seeds, and then the reptile house, where Slayer made the mistake of tapping on the glass of a sleeping iguana.

“You do realize he just challenged that lizard to a fight,”

Greta said and crossed her arms.

Bear grunted.

“Whoever blinks first loses.”

Slayer focused on the iguana for fifteen seconds and then triumphantly raised his arms over his head with a shout.

“Hell yeah, I win!”

“Dear god,”

Adley muttered.

Eventually, we wandered to the gift shop, where Greta bought a stuffed fox she claimed looked exactly like the one that winked at her earlier.

“You’re making that up,”

I told her.

“Prove I’m not,”

she said smugly and held up her new stuffed friend like it was a trophy.

King found a tiny turtle figurine and handed it to Meg.

“For the collection.”

She stared at it for a second and then narrowed her eyes.

“Put that down right now. I have a freakin’ collection of them back at the motel.”

By the time we left, arms full of souvenir mugs and candy from the checkout display, we were all exhausted. We piled into the Bronco and the bikes, still laughing about Adley’s deer debacle.

And maybe that was the whole point of this vacation. A little chaos. A lot of laughter. And memories we wouldn’t stop talking about for years.

Even the deer attack.

Especially the deer attack.