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Satan’s Warriors MC and Devil’s Scythe MC.

Satan’s Warriors = Tiger, Crunch, Skull, Grill, Tornado, Jackal, Misfit, Bullet, Mammoth, Marvel, Slider, Throttle, Blake, Bow, Hammer, and Hazard.

Devil’s Scythe = Scythe, Tinker, Gutbuster aka Buster, Wanderlust, Bishop, Spawn, Rachet, Nash, Saint, Winch, Renegade, and Narcissus.

Tiger

H is MC was watching a little used route into Rapid City. They didn’t expect anyone to try to enter this way, which was why the Fangs probably thought they could.

Tiger scowled as he saw a band of riders heading for them. To his surprise, there were only roughly thirty. He’d been hearing reports of far bigger parties.

“What a fuckin’ insult,” Crunch moaned.

“Yeah, considering the others are being attacked by at least a hundred, and we only get thirty? What the hell?” Skull demanded.

“This sucks,” Tiger complained.

“Still better radio it in,” Crunch said.

“Fuck my life, we’ll be the laughingstock,” Tiger snapped. “Yo! Tiger from zone five checking in,” he called on the radio.

“Go ahead, Tiger,” a cultured tone came back.

“Who’s this?” Tiger asked, confused. It should have been Irish, Slick’s woman.

“This is Earl Kenna, a friend of Sinclair’s. Your friend Irish had some business to take care of,” Earl answered.

“You have to be joking. Irish is getting some action, and we’re not?” Crunch bitched.

Tiger decided shit couldn’t get much worse. “Earl, we’ve got riders heading our way. Please be aware.”

“Good hunting, my man. Get those motherfuckers,” Earl said, and Tiger blinked.

“Dude, motherfucker does not sound right with your educated rich guy accent,” he replied.

“No, I suppose it doesn’t. Oh well, kill those rapscallion bastards!” Earl declared, and Tiger laughed.

“That’s better. See you on the dark side.” Tiger put the radio back in his pocket and peered over the car he was hiding behind. The junkyard had made bank on the cars that were being used as barricades.

Tiger frowned as he stared at the bikers, who’d stopped about half a mile away. “Fuck it,” he muttered. He grabbed a megaphone. “This is Tiger, President of Satan’s Warriors. My club and I are deputised to defend this city. Either turn around or die,” he warned.

A man stepped forward and began walking towards him. As he got closer, he held his hands up and shouted something. Tiger frowned at Crunch. “What did he say?”

“Dunno. Should I kill him?” Crunch asked.

“Do ya wanna?” Tiger replied.

“Seems a bit unsporting, he is holding his hands up,” Slider called over.

“Who gives a shit? They’re a hostile force. Shoot him,” Hazard ordered.

The Venomous Fang shouted something.

“Oh, fuck this,” Tiger grumbled. “I can’t hear you, come closer. Be warned, aggression will be met with retaliation,” he boomed over the megaphone.

The Fang walked closer, his hands still above his head. When he got nearer, he yelled again.

Tiger’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. “Did he just say what I think he did?”

“This day is shit,” Crunch exploded.

Skull and Grill exchanged glances. “Confirm what he said,” Skull said.

“Bullshit! He surrenders,” Tiger said morosely.

“We could pretend we didn’t hear him and still shoot the fucker,” Crunch suggested hopefully.

“Not a bad idea,” Tiger replied, perking up.

“Shit. Look up, we got eyes on us,” Bow declared, and they glanced up and saw a helicopter heading their way.

“This fuckin’ sucks!” Tiger spat angrily.

“We surrender. We don’t want a fight, we’ll surrender to you,” the guy shouted as he walked closer.

“Drop your weapons and keep coming. When I tell you to stop, obey,” Jackal bellowed. “Everyone cover me and Misfit.”

“Woah, if anyone is going, it is me,” Tiger said.

“Pres, it’s our job to protect you. We can argue the toss later,” Jackal stated.

“It’s my job to defend the MC,” Tiger retorted.

“Whatever. Misfit you ready?” Jackal asked. “Stop right there. Be warned, any funny business and you will be shot.”

“That’s cool, dude, we didn’t wanna be here anyway. The Venomous Fangs forced a take over. Do what you need to, but we don’t want to fight. We weren’t a one-percenter club, my name is Smasher,” the man responded.

“Name like Smasher, and you ain’t one percenter?” Jackal commented.

“I’m called that because I threw a watermelon in temper once. My President called me it, and it’s my road name,” Smasher replied.

“Keep your hands up,” Misfit ordered as Jackal began patting him down. “He’s clean.”

“Dude, we don’t want to fight. There are twenty-two of us who approached, but seventy remained behind us who all wish to surrender,” Smasher said.

“What the fuck?” Jackal exclaimed.

“This isn’t our battle, not our war, and it’s bullshit. We had to ride because they threatened our families. But from what we’ve been hearing, the assholes are falling. That’s right, ain’t it, you’re winning? Our families are safe?”

“Those attacking are losing, yeah,” Tiger replied as he stood up.

“Let my people ride up and arrest us. We do not want no bloodshed,” Smasher insisted.

“We got cuffs?” Tiger asked Crunch.

“Howser sent us all out with zip ties. The problem we got is we don’t want them staying here behind our backs, and we don’t want them close. We can’t leave our zone in case it’s a trap,” Crunch explained.

“I’ll call in.” Tiger said, as Misfit cuffed Smasher. “Earl, you here?”

“Report, Tiger,” Earl replied.

“I’ve got prisoners, the Fangs surrendered rather than attack,” Tiger reported grumpily.

“Wonderful. They must have learned of your reputation and shit themselves. Clearly, your allies aren’t as scary,” Earl stated.

Huh. Tiger liked that thought. It did not soothe the feeling of getting cheated, but it helped. Smasher claimed they didn’t want to fight. Maybe Earl was on to something.

“Problem we have is we can’t hold one hundred prisoners here,” Tiger explained.

“Hold on, Tiger, I do believe an ally has created a makeshift prison,” Earl replied. The radio went quiet, and Tiger kept a sharp eye on Smasher.

“Yes, please contact Scythe. The Devil’s Scythe are handling all prisoners,” Earl announced when he returned.

“Thanks man,” Tiger said and called into Scythe on a different channel.

“What’s up, Tiger?” Scythe asked seconds later.

“I’ve got around a hundred prisoners. But can’t leave my zone,” Tiger stated.

“Nice. The Satan’s Warriors scared the pants off them! I can send Bishop, Spawn, Saint, and Renegade with a transport… move, I dare ya. Any move you make, I’ll shoot.” Scythe warned someone.

Tiger snorted in amusement. Scythe sounded as pissed off as Tiger had felt.

“Hang fire, Tiger…” Scythe said and was interrupted by a gunshot.

“Scythe!” Tiger called, alarmed.

“…Fuckin’ told ya, and no, we don’t got a medic. Suffer you raging asshole.”

“You shot him?” Tiger demanded, amused.

“Fucker was warned,” was Scythe’s reaction.

Tiger began to laugh. “What’s your transport’s capacity?”

“Twenty if they’re crammed in. Fuck human rights,” Scythe stated.

“Okay, bud, I’ll bring them in and make the rest wait until the truck returns,” Tiger said and hung up.

He grabbed the megaphone and called out. “Surrender in groups of twenty. Leave your bikes there. Approach one at a time and, drop all weapons, and be prepared to be zip-tied. Any aggression will be met with return fire, and there’ll be no more talk of surrender. You will die.”

Crunch looked disgusted, but Tiger shrugged. What else could they do?

Scythe

“Stop your blathering,” Scythe snapped at the man he’d shot. The fucker kept trying to break out of his zip ties. Now, he had something else to worry about.

“You shot me!”

“I got your leg. I could shoot elsewhere and shut you up if you want?” Scythe asked.

“You can’t treat me like this. I’m a prisoner, I’ve got rights,” the asshole continued.

“Guess you didn’t get the memo. The Chief of Police declared you home grown terrorists. As terrorists, you got no fuckin’ rights in my eyes. You and your band of assholes came here to take what ain’t yours. Instead, you’re getting your asses handed to ya, and you wanna stand here and cry like a bitch. Get over it, asshole. ”

“I’ll come for you,” the guy threatened.

Scythe got his gun back out, and he shut the fuck up. His VP Tinker grinned.

“Fuckin’ big babies,” Tinker cursed as he threw Scythe a bottle of water. They were in a warehouse where the prisoners were being kept. The RCPD cells were already full, and they’d needed somewhere else. The Devil’s Scythes had purloined this because of the railing that ran all around the walls and ceiling. It made it easy to cuff someone there.

Scythe wasn’t too amused. Every other MC and ally were fighting, and he was here babysitting these fuckers. Somehow, they’d become prison guards. Of course, it wasn’t without difficulties, he noted as Bishop knocked a Fang out, who lunged for him. Scythe smirked as a truck of Fangs pulled up outside. He nodded to Narcissus and Nash to accompany him and went out to meet the two National Guard soldiers driving it.

“These fuckers have tried everything to escape,” the soldier called Ashbolt stated.

“Nearly had to shoot one, be careful with them,” the second said.

“Should have shot him, Peasegood,” Narcissus replied.

Peasegood snorted. “Might be an option yet. This is the first load. We’ve used handcuffs as well as zip ties, buddy. They’ve caused no end of problems.”

“That’s because they are the National Charter. These are the original motherfuckers who believed in Fury’s bullshit. The only reasonable thing for them is death,” Scythe said, seeing their cut and patches.

“They are all yours, Scythe. I’d suggest you keep them separate and away from everyone else,” Ashbolt replied as he and Peasegood lifted Fangs out of the truck. Scythe noted how they were trussed at the ankles, as well as their knees.

“You’re all gonna fuckin’ die,” one spat.

“Doubt it. You’ve lost hundreds of men, and we’ve got about three hundred in there, all crying for their mama’s,” Tink spat with a grin.

“Winslow is sending some more guys to help. Two troops, he says you’re in danger with so many here,” Ashbolt added.

“That would be helpful, especially as I have just sent four men out to collect more prisoners,” Scythe replied.

Ashbolt and Peasegood swapped glances. “We will wait until they get back. It doesn’t feel right leaving you with these, considering the fight they’ve put up. I know one of the troops is ten minutes out. We’ll stay until then.”

A Fang kicked Nash in the face and sent him flying. They spun to look at him as he grabbed Nash’s gun and aimed it. Scythe didn’t hesitate, and neither did anyone else. Before the Fang could fire, seven bullets entered him, and he fell backwards at full length.

“Take him to the shit pit,” Scythe said. The prisoners exchanged glances, and Scythe stepped up to the closest one. “Don’t fuckin’ push me. You come to our territory and start a war we didn’t ask for. I’m just looking for a reason to blow brains out.”

“You’ll die begging, asshole,” a Fang spat.

“Not before you. That’s a damn promise. Unload the rest of these fuckers and tie them up real tight,” Scythe ordered.

“That prick was jonesing for a bullet. He hadn’t stopped running his mouth. The shit coming out of him was vile,” Peasegood said.

“Let me guess, gonna rape your mama, sisters, wife, daughters… blah blah. Same old intimidation bullshit. They’re the scum of the earth and will get everything they deserve. I wouldn’t bat an eyelid at putting them all up against a wall and shooting them dead,” Tinker added.

“Save us a shit ton in court costs,” Scythe agreed.

“True that, but I don’t think the powers that be would approve,” Ashbolt drawled.

A Fang lunged at him as Narcissus got him to his feet. Narcissus put him back on the floor with one punch and began dragging him in by his ankles.

“Fuck human rights,” Narcissus called over his shoulder.

“Damn, that would be ideal.” Peasegood laughed.

“Want a drink? We’re pretty stocked up here,” Scythe asked, nodding towards the door.

A commotion broke out inside, and they heard Narcissus yell Nash’s name. Scythe broke into a run and burst in and saw two Fangs fighting Narcissus while one held Nash in a choke hold.

Scythe didn’t hesitate and barrelled straight into the ones fighting Narcissus. He grabbed the first and snapped his neck. The other Fang’s eyes widened as Scythe came for him, and he put his hands up.

“I surrender!” he yelled.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ do,” Scythe said and shot him in the head.

Nash broke free and jabbed an elbow to his attacker’s face before turning his gun on him and pumping him full of bullets.

Silence fell as shocked Fangs stared at the bodies.

“Take them to the trash heap,” Scythe ordered as he checked Nash over.

Nash batted him away. “I’m fine, Prez.”

Ashbolt smirked as Nash kicked the body on the ground. “Now, that, gentleman, is the way to do it!” he commented.

“No shit,” Nash said, glowering at a Fang nearby. The prisoner lowered his head, gazing downward.

“Take note,” Scythe boomed loudly so everyone could hear him. “We ain’t cops. We don’t give a fuck if we shoot and kill you. This is your last warning. Make a move and die. Nash, Narcissus, grab the bodies and put them on the trash heap where shit like that belong.”

Scythe looked around and smiled coldly. He’d sent a message; hopefully these bastards would abide by his warning. If not, Scythe didn’t mind culling a few assholes and saving the judicial system some money.