Patch In

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Tim has been a prospect with a motorcycle club for over a year and is trying to earn his full patch.

Submitted: February 12, 2015

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Submitted: February 12, 2015

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The leather vest lay flat on the bed folded in neatly. The bottom rocker shone brightly. “Prospect”. Tim had been a prospect with The Unforgiven MC for a little over a year now. While his time had definitely not been a bed of roses, it hadn’t been all-bad either. There were ups and downs just like with everything in life. Still he sincerely hoped that the brothers would deem him worthy of the patch soon. If they didn’t he was going to have to take matters into his own hands and do something that would make them take notice and give him his patch. What that might be he had no idea, but he would come up with something.

Tim stood, picked up his cut, and slung it around his shoulders. He wore his cut proudly, even though he was just a prospect, he was proud to declare himself part of the club. He walked out of the bedroom and headed for the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Marie sat at the kitchen table smoking a cigarette and drinking coffee. Tim walked over to the counter, poured himself a cup, and sat down at the table.

“What do you have going on today?” he asked Marie.

“Not much besides trying to figure out how to get you to give up that damn cut.” She replied.

“Not gonna happen.” Tim said bitterly. The argument about him joining the MC had been ongoing since he had become a prospect. Marie hated the idea of him joining. She knew that once he was a patch member she would probably see little of him, as he would always be riding with the brothers. Tim really didn’t understand her unwillingness to bend on this, he was gone riding most of the time anyway, what did it matter who he was riding with?

“Oh well, she’ll get over it…or she won’t” he thought. Tim took a sip of his coffee and lit a cigarette.

“So what are you guys doing today?” Marie asked him.

“Not sure yet, I gotta check in with the brothers to find out.” He replied. Just then his cell phone rang. It was Two Step, one of the patch members of the club.

“Hey Two Step” Tim answered the phone and listened. “Ok, yeah I’ll be right there.” Tim flipped his phone closed. “Gotta go. I guess we got some protection run today. See ya tonight.” He kissed Marie on the forehead and was out the door before she could say a word. The next thing she heard was the rumble of Tim’s Harley firing up, and he was gone into the southern California morning.

When Tim got to the clubhouse most of the patch members and prospects were already there. He pulled around and backed his bike in its usual spot. Hanging his helmet on the mirror, he climbed off the bike.

“Come on Prospect, we got a big one for ya today.” Said Raf, another patch member.

“Ok, what are we doing?” asked Tim.

“We’re riding protection for a large shipment of cocaine. Some big cartel is bringing it up and we gotta make sure it gets to where it’s going for distribution.” He answered. “We need everybody on this. There have already been threats from some of theses damn hood rat gangs. They want this shit bad.”

“All you fuckers get over here NOW!” yelled Beast. Beast was president of the chapter, and although he could be a nice guy every now and then, most of the time he was totally hardcore and very serious. He was 6’2” and built like a linebacker with long sandy blond hair and an attitude that said he’d rather kill you than look at you. “If you ain’t armed yet get that way. For those of you that have never done this before, prospects I’m talking to you, the room behind me has plenty of automatic weapons as well as handguns, so load up.”

Tim walked over to the room that Beast had indicated and looked around. There was plenty of weaponry alright. Everything from AR-15’s to AK-47’s to long-range rifles and a shitload of handguns. Tim selected a KG9 and a Glock 40 cal. He picked up extra magazines for both and exited the room.  He walked over to where the other prospects had gathered and looked around at them. Tim held the distinction of being the prospect that had held his patch the longest without actually being patched in, so the others looked up to him. All of the other prospects were inspecting their new weapons, snapping in magazines and making sure they were loaded.

“You ever do anything like this before?” Jon, another prospect, asked him.

“No, they’ve never included me in anything like this before. It must be a really big deal to get everybody on it like this.” Tim answered. “Why, you scared?”

“No, of course not!” Jon answered a little to quickly.

Just then Beast’s voice rang above the din of the crowd. “Everybody on your bikes. Lets do this.” Everyone stowed their guns and climbed on their bikes. When all thirty-two bikes started up in unison, the rumble from the pipes was deafening.

The club rolled out in single file then paired up side by side once they were on the road. Tim had no idea where they were headed, so he simply maintained his position in the back of the pack, riding along until they got to wherever they were headed.

Pretty soon they turned off of the main highway and on to a narrow dirt road. They still rode in pairs side by side, but the formation was a bit more difficult to maintain. After they had rode a few miles they started to slow and came upon a semi truck with trailer attached. The formation split so that half of them rode along one side of the truck while the other half took the other side. They pulled up to a stop once they were all past the truck. Beast parked his bike, got off, and walked towards the truck. Everyone else maintained their positions. He walked purposefully towards the driver’s side. When he got about halfway up the truck the drivers door swung open and a brown skinned man jumped down.

“I guess you must be Beast.” He said with a thick Colombian accent. “Your crew ready for this?”

“We’re always ready,” growled Beast.

“Alright then, lets roll.” Said the Colombian. He climbed back up into the cab of the truck and started the diesel engine with a great cloud of black smoke.

Beast walked back toward his bike. He stuck one finger in the air and twirled it “everybody turn around, I want half in front and half behind. We’re riding this bitch to Indio, from there it’s someone else’s problem. But keep your eyes open, there have been threats.”

Everyone turned around and the rear half of the pack, the senior charter members, took off and sped up in front of the truck. That left the newer guys and the prospects trailing the truck. They rode down the old dirt road slowly, the truck kicking up enough dust to choke several mules, then a right turn and they were on the main highway. As the caravan picked up speed Tim looked around with a wary eye, watching for anything out of the ordinary.

After about 25 or 30 miles a black SUV with darkly tinted windows pulled onto the road behind them and started to follow at a distance. Tim noticed the truck and decided it was definitely worth keeping an eye on. The SUV held its distance for about 10 miles, and then suddenly sped up to close the gap between it and the club. Tim looked back and saw the short barrel of an automatic weapon sticking out of the passenger side window. “Shit” he thought, “here we go.”

“Everybody get low!” Tim yelled, hoping that his brothers could hear him. At the same moment the men in the SUV opened up and started laying down fire. When the short burst of bullets had stopped, Tim looked back to see that none of his crew had been hit. That must have just been to get their attention, which it had done quite well. Every one of the brothers now had weapons in hand and was about to return fire. Tim wondered briefly if the guys in front were dealing with another SUV, because none of them had dropped back to help. When the shooting started it was a bit haphazard. It’s not easy to fire behind you from a moving motorcycle with any accuracy. But eventually bullets started finding their mark. The windshield of the SUV shattered with three bullet holes and what looked like blood spray from the inside. The radiator began spewing out steam from several spots and the hood suddenly developed several holes. The SUV began to slowly fall back, which probably indicated that the driver had been hit. Score one for the good guys, sort of. But before they were out of range more fire came from the black truck. This time one of the bullets hit Jon. It wasn’t a mortal wound and didn’t even knock him off of his bike. Luckily it had just grazed his right side. Most other people would have gone down with a wound like that, but Jon was a tough son of a bitch and kept on riding. In fact it just pissed him off and he turned as much as he could and returned fire, hitting the shooter square in the chest. The SUV went off the road and slowly rolled to a stop. Tim hoped that was the worst they would face today, but somehow he didn’t really think so. He really wanted to ride up ahead and see what the guys in front might be dealing with, but he didn’t want to face Beast’s wrath for breaking formation. Besides that was probably just a scout. There would most likely be more of them, in greater force, somewhere up ahead. Tim was not disappointed in his assumption. Within about 10 minutes four more SUV’s pulled onto the road behind them and this time Tim could see more of the black SUV’s pulling out in front of the truck. He couldn’t get a count of the ones in front but figured there were as many up there as there were back here.

The club turned as one and began firing on the vehicles. The windshield of the leading truck exploded immediately and it careened off of the road wildly. The other three sped up, trying to close the distance so they could get a better shot.  Tim let go burst after burst from his KG9, hitting the vehicles more often than not.

Suddenly Tim had an idea. Dropping the throttle on his bike, he pulled in the clutch and slammed on his breaks. Jon saw him and followed suit. Before they knew it they were behind the SUV’s and picking up speed again. Tim and Jon grabbed their KG9’s and began firing at the rear wheels of the trailing SUV. It worked. Both back tires went out with enough force to lift the rear end of the vehicle off of the ground. The SUV pulled to the side of the road and as Tim and Jon passed it they laid down a blanket of fire. If anyone was still alive in that truck, they were damn lucky.

The boys sped up, trying to catch up to the next SUV in line, hoping to pull off the same maneuver. Unfortunately the back gate of the next truck flew open and there sat two men in ski masks with AK-47’s. They opened fire and Tim and Jon began weaving their bikes around to make harder targets. Suddenly Tim sped up, heading strait for the SUV. When he got close he pulled a grenade out of his pocket that he had picked up from the munitions room just in case. Tim sped forward, ignoring the rain of bullets all around him. When he got close enough he pulled the pin on the grenade with his teeth and tossed it into the back of the SUV, then sped away to catch up with the last one in the rear of the semi. Behind him he heard a large explosion and smiled with satisfaction. Jon caught up with him, smiling from ear to ear.

“Nice one” he yelled over the wind. But they still had one to go.

Tim hit the throttle and sped up toward the remaining SUV. The windows on the vehicle rolled down and bullets started flying. Tim edged over as close as he could to the side of the SUV to avoid being hit. Tim pulled out his Glock and when one of the men poked his head out of the window to take a shot, Tim took his head off. At the same moment another man stuck his head and gun out of the front passenger side window. He fired twice, the first shot Tim felt whiz by his ear, but the second shot wasn’t so lucky. It hit Tim in the left shoulder, just above his heart. It hurt like hell, felt like someone had just drove a red-hot poker through his shoulder, but he managed to stay on his bike. Tim had enough adrenaline pumping through him that, even though he knew he was shot, he was able to keep going.

Tim raised his Glock and with three shots blew the mans face in. Tim sped up to where he could see the driver. He raised his gun and let two shots fly. The SUV suddenly swerved to the left and went flying off of the road. Tim looked at one of the young patch members that were riding with him and they nodded at each other. They got their group back in formation, and then the two of them rode forward to see if they needed assistance in the front.

When they got to the front of the semi, the last of the black SUV’s was peeling off of the road. Seeing that things were in hand, the two nodded at each other again and fell back to the back of the truck.

The rest of the trip to Indio went without incident. Once there they made sure the truck got to where it was going and handed it off to the guys who were going to distribute the blow. Someone broke out a first aid kit and started mending up all those who had been injured in the attack. They managed to stop Tim’s bleeding and put a gauze bandage on his wound. That would get them back home where he could get some proper medical care. Not at a hospital though, he just needed someone to stitch him up as the bullet had went all the way through. That and a little antiseptic and he should be fine.

The ride home was uneventful, except when they passed the scene of the earlier attack. There were cops and ambulances everywhere. The Sheriffs office had set up a roadblock. As the club pulled up to it Beast pulled out in front.

“What happened here?” Beast asked in a curious voice.

“Not exactly sure” replied the deputy “Looks like these guys tried to attack someone and lost. You boys wouldn’t know anything about that would you?”

“No sir” replied Beast with a grin “We’re just out on a ride, enjoying the California weather.”

“Alright” said the deputy skeptically “Lets just hope we don’t find any evidence pointing to your club.”

“Oh, don’t worry, you won’t” smiled Beast.

“Ok you can go,” said the deputy and he stepped aside to let the club through.

Once back at the clubhouse, the healthy members started patching up the not so healthy ones. Besides Jon’s scrape and Tim’s through and through, three of the guys in front of the truck had taken shots as well. Only one was really serious, JP, an older patch member had taken a bullet to the back. Luckily the club had a doctor on their payroll. He showed up pretty quickly and went right to work digging the bullet out of JP’s lower back.

Two-Step was sewing up Tim’s shoulder when Beast yelled “Church, twenty minutes”

Two-Step finished sewing Tim up just in time to get to the chapel. As always the patch members sat around a huge, ornately carved table while the prospects stood outside the circle.

“Everyone did a great job on this one” Beast began “we did what was asked of us even though it cost a bit. I want to say a special thanks to the prospects. You guys did one hell of a job. Tim, I understand you took out four of the fuckers nearly by yourself. The grenade was inspired, by the way. On that note, I think a vote is in order. Tim’s been a prospect for over a year. He always does what’s asked of him without complaint, and when anyone needs someone to back him up you know you can count on him. That is the definition of a brother. I think it’s high time we bring Tim in.

“Oh my God, it’s really gonna happen! They’re gonna patch me in. Holy Shit and Hell yeah!” Tim thought.

“So lets vote it,” said Beast. “All in favor of giving Tim his patch.

The Yea’s were loud and unanimous in the tightly packed room.

“Anyone opposed?” Beast asked. No one spoke up. “Alright then, gimme that prospect cut, Tim.” Tim removed his cut and handed it over. Beast handed him back a different cut with full patches front and back. “To our newest member, Shooter, welcome him as a brother.”

Cheers went up all around the room as Shooter pulled his new cut over his shoulders. Beast banged the gavel and said, “It’s a good day, lets get a beer.”


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