James Hunt - Broken Ties

“It’s a Jeep!” Frankie shouted.

When the Jeep came within shooting range, it didn’t slow down. It sped up.

“Fire!” Jake said.

The Jeep smashed through the first car, the front crumpling, but still moved forward. It swerved to try and miss the second, but was met by the gang’s gunfire.

The bullets blew out the driver’s-side tire, and the Jeep lost control, flipping onto its side, and skidded into another one of the parked cars.

Tank was the first person who made it to the Jeep. When he looked inside, he saw the kids crying in the backseat. Jung was stirring awake, and Jenna was motionless.

“There’re kids in here!” Tank shouted.

Tank unbuckled Claire first and then grabbed Jung Jr. Both of them were screaming for their parents as Tank set them on the sidewalk, making sure they were okay.

He pressed his finger to Jenna’s neck, trying to feel a pulse, but there was nothing. The side of her head was covered in blood. He unbuckled her and pulled her from the Jeep, laying her away from the kids.

Jung was starting to regain consciousness when Tank got to him.

“W-where’s Jenna?” he asked.

“Just hold on, pal,” Tank said.

Jung was bleeding from his forehead, and a shard of glass stuck out of his arm.

“What are you doing?” Jake asked.

“They’re hurt,” Tank answered.

“I know. Now finish the job. Let’s get this Jeep flipped over and see if it’ll still run. It could come in handy.”

Tank pushed Jake in the back, sending him to the ground. When Jake got up, he pulled his gun on Tank.

“You gonna make them duel too?” Tank shouted.

“You’re way out of line, brother,” Jake said.

“We can’t keep going down this path, Jake. We don’t kill kids.”

“We’ll go down whatever path I take us.”

“We’ve killed a lot of people since this shit went down, Jake, but we’ve never hurt kids before. It’s not something I’m going to start doing now.”

Jake lowered the pistol and holstered it.

“The kids are on you. Do what you want with them. Take the other two to the sheriff’s cells. Let’s see if they know our friends in there.”

“The woman’s dead. She doesn’t have a pulse.”

“Fine, then take the man.”

Mike tried to make sense of everything that just happened, but he couldn’t. He just watched his father kill himself, sacrifice his life so Mike wouldn’t have the burden of pulling the trigger.

When Frankie came in and tossed Jung inside the cell with him, Mike was brought back to reality. His wife and son were still at the cabin, and his daughter was still alive; he was still alive. There was still a chance.

“Looks like you’re getting a little company,” Frankie said.

Jung was unconscious when he hit the floor. Mike crawled to him, checked his pulse, and made sure he was still breathing.

“Jung,” Mike said. “Jung, what happened?”

Jung’s reply was nothing but mumbles and groans. Mike couldn’t understand what he was babbling on about.

“Cincinnati… Jenna… I’m sorry,” Jung said.

“Cincinnati? Jung, where’s Anne? Where’s Freddy?”

Mike brought his hand to the side of Jung’s head, and blood stuck to his fingers.

“Jesus, Jung, what happened?”

Jung started to cry. Mike wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or something else. He just kept shaking his head and weeping. The sobs were silent, but every once in a while a gasp would escape.

He rocked back and forth on the ground, curled in a ball, until he didn’t have any tears left. Finally, he spoke.

“I took the Jeep,” Jung said.

“What?”

“Jenna was getting worse. The antibiotics weren’t working. The only way she was going to live was if I got her to Cincinnati.”

“Where’s my family, Jung?”

“They’re at the cabin. I… I tied them up and stole the car and got out of there as fast as I could.”

Jung didn’t look Mike in the eye. He kept his face down, ashamed.

The pain Mike felt was fading away. His father was dead, his daughter was beaten to a pulp, and now a man who he let into his home, protected, fed, and made sure his family was safe, betrayed him.

“Did you hurt them?” Mike asked.

“No, no, they’re okay.”

Mike wanted to smash what was left of Jung’s life into oblivion. There were a lot of things that Mike could forgive, but attempting to hurt his family by stealing from him wasn’t one of them.

“Daddy!” Claire said.

“See? Daddy’s okay. He’s just in here,” Tank said.

Jung crawled to the front of the cell, pushing his arms through the cracks in the bar, grasping his children.

“Are you guys okay?” Jung asked.

Jung Jr. and Claire nodded. Tank unlocked the cell.

“C’mon, I’m taking you to one of the motel rooms. You can stay with your kids there,” Tank said.

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” Jung said. “Wait. What about the rest of them?”

“You know these people?”

“Yes.”

“Listen, it’s better if you act like you don’t know them, trust me.”

Jung didn’t bother to turn around. He just left with his kids, and Tank locked the cell. If he had turned around, he would have seen a face that haunted him for the rest of his life. Mike never felt more disgusted in his entire life.

When Sam saw the Jeep heading down the dirt road to the highway, he double-timed it. Whatever made them leave must have been bad.

He still had his business shoes on, which made it awkward to run, especially through the uneven forest floor. Sam pushed through it though. The moment he left the cabin, he went into operation mode.

Every mission he went on as an Army Ranger, he would get into a single mind-set. Complete the objective.

It was all just a job, a task given to him and carried out as quickly and efficiently as he and his team could do it.

When he was done, he felt no remorse for anything that happened on the mission. It wasn’t because he was heartless but because it was the only way for him to keep on living once the mission was over.

Once he made it out of the forest and onto the highway, he was able to pick up his pace. The flat, level road was easier to run on than the divots and tree roots of the forest.

Sam kept his rifle up at all times, scanning the perimeter of the town. When he made it to Main Street, he saw the Jeep flipped on its side.

He could hear some commotion down the street. It was the sound of a child crying. Sam advanced, each step hitting the sidewalk quickly, quietly.

Tank was taking Jung and his two kids up the stairs to the second floor of the motel. Sam watched them go into one of the rooms a few doors down.

Sam peered through the scope. Room 24. He sat there for a moment, taking in the surroundings. The motel had forty-two rooms, twenty-one rooms on each floor. From what he heard at the cabin, there were no more than twenty bikers, probably fewer if Mike was a good shot.

It wasn’t likely the bikers would have bunked up, so they were probably in their own rooms. Sam didn’t see anyone on watch, so they either didn’t have enough men for that, were too tired, or thought they weren’t in danger anymore. Either way, he had the advantage.

Sam wanted to keep this as covert as possible. It wouldn’t do any good to let the gang know he was here by running in guns blazing. He climbed the staircase, pressed his ear to the door of room 24.

There was nothing but mumbles, but he recognized Jung’s voice. He never saw the biker who went in there with him come out, so he’d have to act fast the moment he opened the door. He strapped the rifle over his shoulder and pulled the knife from his belt.