Something about Vermont

Chapter 4

*gore sorta 

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He placed Vermont rather carefully in the passenger seat of a navy pick-up truck, one that the huge man barely fit in.

He backed out of the parking lot with a screech of tires before driving off down the street, rock and roll playing low from the speakers, music she had only heard when she was on missions and had barely had the chance to have the freedom to listen to at her own will. Her hand reached forward for the dial of the stereo and her eyes widened as if she were a child discovering a new thing.

She found that the music quietened out the rest of the world.

"Quietens the memories, right?" the unknown man says from the driver's seat, his eyes moving from her to the road, "yeah" she says almost confused and a little bit speechless.

The rest of the ride was relatively quiet, only the sound of a rock and roll band that Vermont had no clue who they were played through the speakers. She found herself mapping out the way back to the diner in her head as she watched all the turns, he made with a trained eye making sure that if they were going to cage her like the last pack of bastards did, she would know her way back to freedom, even if she had to kill again.

Her hands were still shaking, and she fought off the nausea that rolled around in her stomach, her withdrawals acting like a bitch. This was the first time in over a decade that she had been completely clean, it had been like this since she hit the road 4 days ago, she had already puked up her guts at least 3 times during her long ride and the fact that she did it on an empty stomach and no sleep made it worse.

She watched as they pulled into a large facility, almost warehouse sized but instead a wooden and brick design that had metals incorporated to create a biker atmosphere. There was a large steel reinforced gate which had a boy which Vermont assumed was a prospect opening. From what she could see there was a long line of at least 30 bikes, and as she scanned the premise, she could see at least three other buildings that were disjointed from the main building.

The biker beside her drove up to where the bikes were and parked besides them in an empty spot before he turned the truck off and swung open the door and got out, making the large pick-up truck sway with his movements. Vermont followed him getting out of the truck, she looked back to the gate her only way out of the guarded fortress and noticed it had been shut. Well fuck.

The man who drove her here waited at the bonnet of the truck and she sighed before walking up to him, he nodded and turned his back to her before leading her into the clubhouse, her eyes once more followed over his form and found the large name 'Chaos' sewn into the bottom of his cut.

Chaos held a large wooden door opened for her and she walked in first before he walked in after her, she noticed that the loud building almost instantly went silent, but she ignored it, either because she didn't know how to address it or because she didn't care enough.

"Hey Chaos" she said turning back to him, he looked down at her and titled his head to the side, "you mind if I borrow your bar for a sec? before you do whatever you need to do with me? I'll reimburse you" she said, and he simply shrugged before following her over to the large wooden bar that Vermont could only think was definitely designed by a man. She didn't make eye contact with anyone as she walked through the still silent clubhouse and didn't even bother looking at whoever was behind the bar when she got there.

Instead, she did what she had promised herself to do as soon as she found some decent supplies, take the fucking bullets out. She knew by now that they might be a bit infected but that wasn't something new, it had happened before, and she knew that for whatever reason she would survive.

Quickly searching through the cupboards underneath the bars counter she found a first aid kit, she brought it out onto the counter and opened it up grabbing out fresh bandages, tweezers and luckily in this kit someone had added a sewing needle and thick thread.

She turned to the shelf and pulled off a cheap vodka that she knew tasted like shit, at least that's what she had heard when the guards complained about which drinks sucked during the boring late hours of their shifts watching her. She poured two shot glasses and kept the bottle open as she tinkered around, she placed the needle and tweezes into one of the shot glasses before she shotted the other one, wincing at the burning taste in her throat. They were right, it tasted like shit.

She undid the zip of her leather jacket before removing it, she had almost forgotten she had an audience before she heard a few hushed whispers and a whistle that sounded more like a 'what the fuck' instead of a 'damn your hot'. Vermont looked down at herself, seeing the blood had caked over and smudged, turning into a dark red almost brown as it had settled on her skin, she knew it was probably going to stain her tan skin a slight hue of pink when she finally got to shower.

Carefully Vermont began to unbandage her waist, and her arm and shoulder. She wasn't going to lie to you, she was in severe discomfort especially after having her weight pressed against her wounds as she rode her bike for days, but the sheer adrenaline of getting away and the fuck out of that place had driven her.

Vermont decided to take another swig of the cheap vodka before she poured it on all three of the wounds, wincing at the sting that quickly followed and burnt like hellfire. Leaning over she grabbed a tea towel from the counter and shoved it in her mouth at the exact same moment she heard someone say, "no she's not". Taking the tweezers out of the vodka solution she carefully inserted them into her waist, her neck bent down in an unnatural angle so that she could see better. She was careful as she did it, not wanting to Knick a nerve or artery or really anything that might cause her more damage. She groaned as she found the bullet and groaned further as she removed it and placed it into the empty shot glass, she previously chugged. Letting out a breath of relief after it was out, she placed the bloody tweezers back into the vodka filled shot glass before pouring a fresh splash of vodka from the bottle onto the wound again before she threaded the needle and began to sew the hole shut, just as she had done hundred times before. Once sewed up she took the tea towel out of her mouth, took another shot and then shoved it back in repeating her process on her left arm. tweezers, remove bullet, groan a bit in pain, sanitize the wound again, sew it up, take a shot. Repeat.

When done she wrapped the three wounds up and cleaned up the counter, throwing out the vodka blood solution she had created, winding the cap back onto the bottle and throwing out the used first aid equipment. She placed the two shot glasses in the sink and used the dirty tea towel to wipe up any blood that spilled onto the counter or floor.

Then Vermont finally looked up from her wounds and looked at the highly male dominant crowd that was still watching her in silence, some had smiles on their faces other jaws were dropped and some were pale. She looked up to Chaos beside her who was looking at her with both a bewildered look and an almost proud look, or what she assumed was a proud look. No one had ever been proud of Vermont.

She didn't bother putting her jacket back on, instead opting to hold it. She looked back to the crowd and she was now annoyed that they were still watching her.

"What? Never seen a girl covered in blood?".