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The guy with the tattoo gun turned his head. “Nah. He ain’t here.”
The guy had black lines tattooed on his face. From the outside corners of his eyes down his face. It almost looked like the start of some scary clown makeup or something.
“This is a fucking cult,” Darrow said. “I know these guys. They think they’re protectors. All they do is take ‘shrooms and steal shit. They wander around the back woods, thinking they’re going to find their version of God.”
“Yeah, he ain’t here,” Linc said.
He walked up to the guy with the tattoo gun and pressed his gun to the guy’s head.
“Fuck off,” Linc said.
“I don’t see the need for this,” the guy said. “Nicholas has chosen us. We’ve been guiding him. He’s embraced our lifestyle.”
Linc looked down at Nick. “Are you inked up anywhere, man?”
“No,” Nick said. “I was just about to get my paint. My war paint.”
“He’s fried,” Fitz said.
“I’m sober,” Nick said. “I’ve been sober.”
“Can we get the fuck out of here?” Slade asked. “This place is bothering me.”
“Leave in peace, if you must,” the guy with the tattoo gun said. “But know this will haunt you later in life.”
Linc brought his gun back and then smashed it against the side of the guy’s head. The guy fell to his right, hit the counter, and then crumbled to floor. The other two in the kitchen did not make a single sound. They stood there, frozen, unnerved.
“Something is way off here, brother,” Slade said to Linc. “We need to go.”
“There’s a vibe here,” Darrow said. “There’s something here. Something bad.”
“It’s all the made up shit in their heads,” Cyrus said. He pointed to the two guys. “You know who we are. We know where you are. You stay the fuck away from our town. Eat your shit covered mushrooms and chase pink elephants into the woods.”
Linc reached down and grabbed Nick by the front of his shirt and picked him up. Nick’s eyes were clear and sober. Full of pain though. A hard life growing up with an alcoholic mother who was obsessed with you.
Maybe in some ways Nick never stood a chance in life. Used to making up for all the loneliness and loss that his mother felt. At the same time though, Linc remember Nick. A pain in the ass. Lazy. Useless. Never gave a fuck to apply to himself. Assumed the world would turn at his pace. And if it didn’t, he just simply quit.
Linc dragged Nick by his shirt out of the house. He gave Nick his helmet.
“Linc, we need to move right now,” Darrow said.
He held his phone in his hand and looked around.
“What’s wrong?” Slade asked.
“This house was listed as something else when I did my recon. It’s an old drug house. Even used for whores. This is… something is way off out here. I feel like I’m being watched right now. I’m picking up some signals on my phone too. We have to ride. Now.”
Motorcycles fired up in the near distance. Cyrus, Priest, and Fitz rode from the back of the house.
Cyrus pointed at Linc. “No stupid shit!”
They all rode as hard and fast as they could off the property.
As soon as Nick climbed off Linc’s motorcycle, Linc grabbed him by the shirt.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Linc growled.
“It just all happened at once,” Nick said. “I was all fucked up. Thought I was going to die. I overdosed and they saved me. I woke up in the woods and…”
