Page 7 of Mile High With the Bikers (Screaming Eagles MC #10)

SHRAPNEL

I'm out of my chair so fast I almost rip the fucking belt off. The crash, the burning… I can feel it picking at the scars in my brain. Who the hell needs sleep, right? Not me for the next few days.

Diesel's got Rory in his arms. She looks over at me and smiles, but the tear tracks down her cheeks tell a different story. He strokes a hand down her back. “I don’t know what that was, but it can't be good. We’ve gotta get off this fucking deathtrap.”

I run my hands through my hair, tugging on the short strands a little to center myself with the pain. “With you there, brother.”

The co-pilot is staring at the body of his colleague and looks like he wants to puke.

“Hey, buddy… You done good, but let’s get out of here, okay?” Bull says in a gentle voice like he’s talking to a scared dog. He puts a hand on his shoulder and steers him away from the body. “The main door’s fucked. How about you show us the emergency exit? Right, Rory?”

“Yeah, um, yeah. Right.” Rory pushes away and stands up, smoothing down her uniform with shaking hands. She opens a hatch near the cockpit and pulls out a black backpack. “But I need to find my—Mr. Whittaker. I need to find him. Did you see him? Is he hurt?”

“He was alive enough to be pissed off last time we saw him.” Mentioning the blood is probably too much information at the moment.

“I think his bodyguards have it under control. Worry about yourself,” Bull says as we pick work our way back into the destroyed meeting room. He steps over a groaning man who didn't find somewhere to sit fast enough, and looks around.

An acrid odor tickles my nose. “Look later. We need to get the fuck outta here. Something's burning.”

“Everyone got all their shit?” I pat my piece under my cut. Shrapnel and Bull nod.

With Rory and the co-pilot, we get the emergency exit open and the rubber slide deployed. I had to do this once in training, and for once it’s not a bad memory. The co-pilot is the first to go. “Move it!” I wave to the others.

A geeky looking older guy tries to push past to get out, but Bull glares down at him and he backs off without a fight.

The mood is strange. The near death experience has put everyone on the same team temporarily, but the groups have split off into their different factions, watching each other with suspicion.

A graying lady with sharp eyes is crouching behind a chair, watching for her chance.

Everyone wants to get the fuck out, but nobody wants to show anyone else their backs.

Fucking Silas McGrath, walks out of the back hall flanked by two guards. He looks around in disgust. I’m surprised to see him here, he usually stays in the background, happy to take people’s money and fuck up their lives from a distance.

Rory hesitates at the top of the slide. “I don't know if I can?—”

“Sorry, babe, but this is a get the fuck out before we're all on fire sort of situation.” Wrapping her slim wrist in my fist, I yank her close. “You're gonna be fine, okay? We’ll get you out of here and home before you know it.”

“But—”

The door to the front bathroom pops open, revealing Whittaker, supported by his bodyguard.

The dark patch on his suit jacket has spread.

Someone needs to get that fucker to a hospital, but considering he’s got more money than God and is at the center of this whole mess, he can solve his own problems.

“Wait!” Whittaker yells, just as a second explosion rocks the plane, followed by the deafening whoosh of a fireball billowing through the door to the back.

“Time’s up!” I toss Rory out the door and onto the slide, not giving a fuck about her surprised yelp. She can complain when she's safe.

The rest of us follow, reaching the bottom of the slide about the same time. Just as we roll off and to our feet, flames shoot out of the back of the plane. Smoke billows out the door as rats flee the sinking ship. Grabbing Rory's shoulders, I haul her away as fast as she can move.

Something booms and pieces of plane drop around us with loud crunches and heavy thumps. A particular big one slams into the ground right by my feet. “Don’t stop! Move!” I pull Rory with me, Diesel and Bull right on our heels.

I’ve got no fucking clue where we are, but I know we had at least an hour left on the flight.

It looks like a private air strip, and people are already flooding out in response.

An emergency truck is speeding our way, and I hear sirens in the distance.

A few people give us looks, but Bull points back towards the wreck.

“There are still people on board!” In the grand scheme of things, nobody seems to give shit about three random bikers and a stewardess.

After we get some good distance between us and the activity, we slow down and duck behind the terminal.

I scan the small parking lot as a firetruck and an ambulance shows up.

“I don’t know about you guys, but if there’s anyone still moving in there I don’t know who to trust not to start shooting again. ”

“Damn straight,” rumbles Bull. “Think we can hotwire one of those?”

Diesel nods. “Sure, no problem.”

Rory is quiet, looking over her shoulder at the plane where flames are pouring out the shattered windows and a thick column of black smoke rises to the sky. People are moving, so it’s clear not everyone was killed, but I’d be shocked if at least a few don’t make it.

I put a hand on her shoulder and squeeze to get her attention. “Are you with us or do you want to stay here and see what happens? Whatever's about to go down, we don't wanna be a part of it.”

As if to prove my point, gunshots go off. Are they Whittaker's people? A third party? Don't fucking care.

“W—with you. I’ll go with you.” Rory turns away from the disaster and shakes her head like she’s trying to shake loose some of the shit she’s just seen. She clutches her backpack to her chest. “Let’s get out of here.”

Turns out leaving is even less of a problem than anticipated.

Someone left their car with the door open and the fob still inside.

They must’ve run to see what happened. The moment we’re all inside, I peel out and spin the car around, aiming us down the access road as fast as this thing will take us.

A final explosion thunders, shaking the ground so hard I can feel it through the car.

“Shiiiiiit,” Diesel says with a low whistle. “Remind me to leave Whittaker a one star review. Trip started out pretty good, but I can’t say I’d recommend this to a friend.”

“No fucking kidding.” Bull, in the passenger seat, strokes his beard thoughtfully. “I’m just glad we aren’t in the middle of this shit for once.”

Rory makes an odd noise and Diesel slides her over into the middle seat in back so he can put his arm around her. “How far to the airport so we can get our bikes?”

I pull out onto the main road, picking a direction at random. “Someone pull up a map. We can’t be that far, but it might take a few hours.”

“You’re going to the original airport?” Rory sounds so fucking lost back there. I don't blame her. That was some wild shit, even for us. “I can… I suppose I can get somewhere from there.”

“We’ll keep you with us until we know you're safe,” Bull declares. “Jesus Christ, we're no saints, but we're not assholes either.”

Diesel has his phone out. “Look for signs for the highway. It should be coming up. Head west for a couple hours and we’ll be good.”

“Not too bad. We can ditch the car there and someone will report it fast enough to whoever we borrowed it from.” Bull taps his fingers on the dash. “I bet when the cops get a look at everyone who was on that plane, they aren’t going to care about one fucking car.”

I flash the blinker and turn down the ramp onto the highway. “Let's go home.”