Realistic or Modern Fallen Angels M.C. | In the Zombie Apocalypse

[NanLia]

WISCONSIN
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Auguste marched down the hall following behind the guard that carried the boy toward the elevator. Rage burned in the pit of his stomach, his vision tunnelled as his thoughts turned to violence. He was going to burn this place to the ground, every last one of these people were dead, so far as he was concerned. They were complicit in the shit their precious doctor was working on and had turned a blind eye.

He paused only when the guard ahead of him did and turned in the direction they were facing. Fish and Kit were brought led his way and that only grated on his nerves further. He glowered at the two men, giving his head a slow shake as his gaze met Fish’s.

Auguste watched dispassionately as Chris looked forlorn, shouting at the guards that led them now, just another fool in this god-forsaken place. His ears rang as the guard beside him fired at some old man and he hissed a curse over his shoulder as he was certain he wasn’t going to hear for a while, if ever again, in that ear.

He was shoved and he clenched his fists at his side to keep himself from turning and swinging on the guards; that was the quick way to get them all killed and if he was going to enact his plan of burning them down, he needed to stay alive a little longer. As he approached the elevator doors he paused, turning back to look down the hall. “Where is Beau?”

Auguste looked past Fish and Kit beyond the guards that now followed them all but didn’t see their final club member. “I’m going fucking nowhere until he’s here.”

@Namazu smookie @Good_Morels BeyondDandy @Fluffy-Kat @punwithinfinty ​

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[AnneThraxx]

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M.C.

Interrogation Room

Birdie & Jenkins - collab with smookie

The sound of movement pivoted Birdie's attention to the front of the wreckage. A small sigh of relief escaped her lungs as she watched Jenkins rise from the rubble. In the wake of everything, she hadnt even thought to check on him. A wave of hopelessness washed over her. He looked to be in bad shape. They all were.

She quickly slid her way to him, the totaled van keeping her upright as the snow and wind whipped at her burning skin. Her entire body screamed, the weight of the weapons feeling like a thousand pounds that would snap her body at any second; but she had to get to him. After what seemed like an eternity, she slid her body under his arm, replacing his shotgun crutch.

"I got you." She reassured him, wrapping her arm around him as she adjusted to hold his weight, the surge of adrenaline wiping away her pain. "We're gonna get out of here. We'll get Casey out and make a break for it." Her optimism was cut short when the fast approaching lights came to a stop in front of them. The headlights made the snow twice as blinding, distorting any view of their attackers. Her grip tightened on Jenkins' side as she reached for the pistol tucked in her waistband.

Jenkins staggered in the drifts, his boots buried deep in the frozen fluff that clung to his pantlegs. The rigid air cut through his clothes and he mentally cursed himself for not putting more layers under his black leather. Blood ran hot from his nose but rapidly cooled on his lips and chin where it dripped in large drops to the snow. His vision swam with any quicker motion but as soon as he saw the girl’s face, he felt a pang of relief. He eagerly took her help, her body small but solid against his unsteady figure.

“Yeah.” He coughed and spat aside, drool and blood. Swinging his gaze at the truck he yelled, his voice ragged and raspy “Boss! You okay?! We gotta–” The shots pierced the cold air and the lights hit them. Fuck. He squinted, his gut tightened. They could run, leave Casey behind, but they’d be slow. Too slow. They couldn’t risk it.

“Things gonna get ugly, Little Birdie.” He tried to mask the note of fear in his tone. Forcing his body to comply, he let her go and straightened up when the strangers approached them. He tossed the shotgun aside, keeping his arms out to the sides. For optics and balance.

A yelp escaped Birdie as the shots echoed out. She let go of Jenkins' side, raising her rifle. Peering through the sight offered nothing, as the wind and snow that swelled around them marred any clear vision of who was coming at them. The hint of fear in Jenkins' voice made heart drop into the pits of her stomach.

"Shit." She cursed after the unknown man barked. Noticing Jenkins step away and drop his gun, she gripped hers tightly, watching as body after body approached and encircled. When the realization that they were heavily outnumbered sunk it, she tossed her gun to the side, slinging off the others that remained on her back. She raised her hands, clasping her fingers on top of her toque. Cursing to herself, she watched as people who resembled soldiers moved around them. A few walked past them to the wreckage, while others stood before them, guns drawn. Casey's painful scream shot through the air like the gunshots just had.

"Hey!" She shouted towards the man who loomed over their VP. Pivoting on her heel, she lunged towards him. The thick blanket of snow on the ground left her slower than she expected, being quickly intercepted by a parka-clad soldier. The man grabbed the girl, as she fought, kicked and spat in an attempt to free herself or inflict a little damage. Tossed like a ragdoll to the ground beside Elvis, he towered them, his glare shifting between the two Angels.
"Stupid little bitch. It would be easier if we just took you both out now. You're damn lucky we've got strict orders to bring you in alive." The man snapped, sending a swift kick into Birdie's stomach.

They were outnumbered, no doubt, and likely outplayed after the crash rattled the hell out of them. Jenkins didn’t plan on dying out there freezing his ass off, so he didn’t make any sudden moves, just staring and reading their intentions. Soldiers eh? Or more like military wannabes from his guess. Casey’s scream cut through the air, punching Jenkins in the gut. But he didn’t say anything. Didn’t flinch. Not until one of them kicked Birdie.

"Hey, dickhead!" The anger shot out before he could stop it. But logic quickly penetrated any romantically violent urges so he didn’t make a move at the guy that approached him. Nor did he fight it when he shoved him to his knees next to his friend. Jenkins looked at her, heart still hammering. His face was usually full of cocky amusement, but right now, the situation wiped that clean.

With a groan, she pushed herself up. Their knees burned from the snow as they knelt before the armed men. Two others quickly tied their hands behind them, before walking off towards a van that had pulled up.

"What do we do?" She managed to whisper out to Jenkins, her voice trembling through laboured breath.

“We’re still breathing, girl.” His words would hold more weight if he didn’t look like a clown with red smeared over his mouth and stray strands of gelled black hair stuck out of place. “Hang tight.”

Still breathing, for now. She thought to herself despairingly. Jenkins' words offered little solace, though she knew he was correct. They had to wait it out. The sharp frozen wind bit at their battered skin as they waited silently, each gust feeling like a slap to the face. Their bodies ached and their legs grew numb as the snow soaked through any sort of layers they had on. Time seemed to slow, and all they could do was watch as these men bustled around them.

"Bag them!" The order rang out from behind them. Knots formed in Birdie's stomach, her heartbeat quickening as she watched the two men from earlier return from the van. She glanced over at Elvis with a look that he had yet to see from her. Fear. She fought to keep it at bay, but tears welled in her eyes as the bags were thrown over their heads, submerging them into darkness.

Hands grip her arms roughly, pulling her to her feet. Judging by the movement she heard beside, her, Jenkins' had been made to do the same. The two were blindly dragged towards what they could only assume was the crudely armored van they had seen before. The sound of heavy metal doors opening formed a lump in Birdie's throat. A groan came from her friend as he was carelessly loaded into the van. She was met with the same carelessness as they shoved her into the cold metal box. There was a commotion outside as another body was loaded into the van. Casey. She sighed a small breath of relief as she sat up against the wall. At least they were all alive. Every squall shook the van as it rumbled to life, idling roughly as orders were barked outside.
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The room was cold and damp, the smell of cigarettes lingered from the men stood against the far wall. Their chatter almost unintelligible. Birdie shivered, weakly humming to herself as Bruno sat tense against his binds. They had been stripped of their layers, leaving them in a t-shirt and a tank top. When the door creaked open the silence became deafening. Footsteps walked forcefully towards Jenkins, pausing for a moment before thudding towards Birdie, circling behind her chair.As quickly as her blindfold was removed, she felt the cold sharp blade placed to her throat, a hand gripping tightly at her bare collarbone. Every muscle in her body tightened and she held her breath. "Please..." was all she could choke out before the man spoke. Fear washed over her as she shut her eyes tight, not daring to speak or move and risk a gruesome fate.

Blood rushed in his ears, drowning out everything except the sound of his and Birdie’s loud breaths. His wrists hurt against restraints, rope cutting skin as he struggled to keep his hands still. They were fucked. They were fucked and he was the one that stranger decided to burden with the responsibility of getting them out of that mess. He watched the blade against pale skin, touching the girl’s throat. His own went dry like desert sand. Fuck what would he give for a drink now. Something strong and mean and not that cheap shit they looted last month. He missed the good stuff.

Tears welled in her eyes as she caught Elvis' gaze. All eyes were on him, waiting for some kind of response. She watched him carefully, his silence maddening. The hand on her shoulder tightened, her body tensed. A sudden sharp cry escapsed her as the knife pressed deeper, crimsom dots beading at the edge of the blade. The stinging shock ripped through her. Viktor asked his question again. They were fucked, and if he didn't answer, she was as good as dead.

Jenkins's jaw clenched as he watched the blade dig a little deeper into Birdie’s neck, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. His shirt was wet on his back, he hated that feel of sweaty fabric stuck to skin. He wanted to wrestle out of the binds, shrug out of that shirt. Everything was making him so goddamn itchy.

What the hell could he even say? Anything, just to buy them some time. He already thought about it in the van. Went through a bunch of scenarios in his head. What he could say to help them survive this. He kept coming up with the same conclusion. Nothing new. Just point your finger at someone else. Would it work? It was high time to find out.
“Gone.” The word scraped his vocal cords, that sexy rasp he was fighting each hangover was now back. Watching the other man’s expression he chuckled with a note of bitterness. Victor remained silent for a moment, watching him.

"What part of that word confuses you?" He croaked at the end and cleared his throat. "You think we'd roll around with enough firepower to start World War Three if we had a home to come back to? Nobody's that stupid to empty their armory clean." He shifted forth in the chair, keeping his eyes trained on the man’s face. "Unless they got nothing left to protect. Cause something bigger and worse than us, or you, fucked us up.”

Birdie's breath hitched in her throat at Jenkin's statement. Tears fell down her cheeks as she silently prayed to any god that may be listening that his lie would work. She hoped the tears she could no longer stop made it all the more believable.

Jenkins leaned back again, seemingly defeated. “So go ahead." He gave the man a once over. "Keep playing with that butter knife. Or." He paused for effect. “Cut these damn ropes, give me a beer, and I’ll tell you everything you need to know about the real bad guys that are just coming your way.”
Would the man buy it? Elvis was a damn good actor.

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