Revved Up Soul

Chapter 42

Gabriel

"On baker street? Gotcha," Gabriel relayed the information to the MC; Alex and D.W had ventured off to the mechanic's shop and 'persuaded' one of the workers to give up Dale's address. Whatever happens, Luke's still knee deep in shit, Gabriel thought.

Gabriel, Luke, Robert, Allen and Benny rode hard under the curtain of twilight, the last glimmer of natural light vanishing beneath the skyline – the stars reminded Gabriel of simpler times; the way the tall, dew touched grass would susurrate beneath his bare feet, how the cold would lick at his boyish figure beneath the silvery moon. He missed those days, those days that were trapped so long ago in the past – the times that he could never have back.

As the five rolled slowly through the street, Gabriel noted the perfect little houses on either side of his person. Perfect houses, with perfect fences and perfect lawns; he imagined the church going family's dressed proper and disgustingly happy. It sent a wave of sickness through his body.

There's a life I'll never have. Life I'll never want.

The crew came to a stop, only a couple of houses down from where the mechanic was supposed to reside. Allen looked over to Benny and called out above the rumble of their respective engines, "Go around the back, he tries to run – clip him."

When the group rolled over to the mark's house, they parked their bikes at either side of the mechanic's truck. Benny hurried along to the back, jumping the tall dark fence – Gabriel could hear the thud of the man landing. The rest of the group took purposeful strides up to the front door. He thought that it looked like an old, quaint little home – perhaps the man's mother had left it to him, or their mother's mother.

Regardless, the man would die if he truly had a hand in Able's murder. Gabriel was convinced, much like Luke was, that this was the guy.

One of them, at least.

Gabriel pulled out his black pistol and glanced at Luke, an unmistakable anger flashing in his eye. As their footfalls sounded off of the concrete, Luke and Allen got into position, counting to three quietly and bull rushing the front door. There was a wicked snap as the door flew off of its hinge, splinters of wood and paint chips flying through the air – the flimsy lock crashing against the wooden flooring, the panel itself clattering.

Allen's voice boomed as Robert kept lookout behind the three men. "Come out come out, the harder you make this on us, the harder we're going to make it on you."

Gabriel knew there was truth to that – but if he had to offer any advice to the dead man, it would have been to bite the bullet on his own terms. No matter what happens tonight, it won't be pretty for him. The three men fanned out and the two unholstered their Glock's; Luke taking the stairs, Gabriel to the right, Allen to the left.

There was an open door, which from what he could tell, led to a bathroom. Gabriel listened intently for any sign that the man might be on the move, but all he could hear was the rustling of Luke making his way above.

It was difficult to make things out in the dark as Gabriel moved through the dining room and into the kitchen. He felt his hand up the wall at his side, looking for a switch – the outlines of things were all that he could make out, leaving the black that was beyond all the more frightening. Finally he found the nub and the lights flicked to life, dispersing the darkness.

Nothing.

There was a loud thump, and then a crash – Luke's voice rang out in a roar, warning not to move. Gabriel's heart lurched into his throat and a wave of heat cloaked him; he caught Allen's eye as the two flew up the stairs – the steps clacking beneath their footfalls.