Chapter One
The New States, 2231
The man was a small human. Slim in the shoulders, sunken in cheeks, weak in the
legs and arms. This aged face was covered in soot that he had unsuccessfully tried to wipe
away. He bowed his head in submission as he was painstakingly searched. He has weak eyes
as well Nick thought.
Once he had completed his physical search, he allowed the man to put back on his
dirty brown suit, gray shirt and brown open toed sandals. The suit was at least one maybe
two sizes too large for him. Nick took out his knife from the brown holster on his hip and
sliced an inch and a half opening in the back of the man’s neck. Sticking his fingers
inside of him, he ignored the man’s screams as he searched for any device.
The old man began to shake and tremble. As soon as he withdrew his knife the old
man went down onto his knees and kissed his boots. Nick grumbled as he always did in
disgust then kicked him away. There was no need for the old man to touch him. He hated the
smell of old, flesh. He could almost taste the decaying soft tissue in his mouth as the
man’s sweaty scent filled his nostrils.
Nick turned around to see that the old man knew to keep his distance. Most people
grovel as soon as they see him. With his long red hair, black leather pants, black jacket,
boots and full red beard, at six foot nine inches he struck a menacing figure. The females
he liked them kissing his boots or licking them clean after a hunting trip for the club.
This old man, if he stuck out his tongue to lick his boot he would de-tongue him right on
the spot. He had de-tongued a woman not long ago for talking back to a full patch member.
Nick turned on his feet and walked away, signaling to the guards in the tower and at the
gate that it was safe to let the old man in. He let the man pass by him then he walked
back over and collected the two sacks of furs that the old man had brought with him for
payment into the compound. Most were genuine animal, some of the furs belong to hybrids it
didn’t really matter fur was fur and it would be put to good use. He gathered the sacks
and headed into the compound, he would drop off the sacks at the slaves’ quarters.
The old man was still shuffling behind the prospects, heading toward the main
building when Nick caught up with them. From the outside, the main building looked like a
prison. In many ways it was. The lost, captured slaves or anyone foolish enough to ask for
entry most didn’t leave when they entered the compound. They were either enslaved until
they died, or traded. The old man had a one good thing going for him; no one would want
to enslave him because it would be pointless. He was too weak and frail to be of any use.
***
Deacon Pike looked up from the map on his desk as Nick his second in command,
walked through his office door. Nick was followed in by a small, older man wearing a dirty
brown suite that had seen better days. Human, he’s probably another addict? Deacon
guessed, though the old man didn’t look like the typical Jade head. Maybe the old guy was
buying for someone else. In this part of the country, the Demon Dogs were the main
supplier of the drug Jade and people did anything to get their hands on it.
He would bet ten rocks of the green narcotic that the old guy had a woman, to trade
which was the last thing they needed. Women, the Demon Dogs had plenty of them with some
to spare if times got hard. After the last world war and the Aids 6 epidemic, clean women
were hard to find for the average man but the Demon Dogs weren’t average men.“Was a cavity
search done?” Deacon asked.
Nick grimace and nodded a firm yes and shoved the old man forward. Rival
organizations were always trying to infiltrate the Demon Dogs; five months ago he had
missed an explosive device on a drifter. Two members were killed when the device went off.
To assume anything about anyone from the way they looked was foolish. Adversaries wanted
their drugs, their women and most importantly their territory.
As presiliving quarterst of the Demon Dogs, Deacon always had a target on his
back. No one could be considered safe, young or old. “Make it quick pops” Deacon said as
he folded up the map and then ran his fingers through his short black hair. “I got things
to do.”
“Yes Sir, I have a woman to trade for...”the old man nervously stumbled over his
words.
Deacon held up his hand and stopped the human in mid sentence. “Don’t need any more
women, clean or not clean.”
“Trust me, you’ll want her, she’s young” the man continue on. He dab his sweaty
brow with the back of his hand then wiped it on his suit jacket.
“We got young, we got old. We have blondes, redheads, brunettes. They’re fat ones,
skinny ones and even a chick with no legs, so no sale pop. Twenty women to feed, clothe is
enough to go around.” Deacon gathered up his things and headed toward the door, passing
the old man on the way.
“Do you have a black one?” the man said with a nervous smile. He’d pulled his ace
in the hole.
Deacon stopped in his track, turned around and hovered all six foot four inches of
his muscular figure over the old man. “There are no black women within the six thousand
miles of the New States.” He hated liars, they insulted your intelligence.
“Oh but there is, a young, virginal girl, with silky black hair that hangs down
pass her shoulders, big brown eyes and her skin is mocha brown. Mr. Pike, it is Pike isn’t
it?”
If what the old man said was true, he was interested, however he wasn‘t going to
let this smug little bastard know it Deacon thought to himself. “Where is she?” he asked.
“I have her in a safe place.”
“You fucked her?” Not that it mattered to Deacon; if this man really had a black
girl he wanted her.
“No sir, I know what she is worth. I was just a boy of eight years old when the
third wave of great rains came. You weren’t even born then, neither of you” the man looked
back at Nick, who growled at him. He quickly shifted his eyes back to Deacon. “Destroyed
the lower states, had fifty five of them back then. Killed a lot of people the rains did,
black, white, brown, all colors. Folks were mad at the government, riots broke out and
then those bastards attacked when we were at our weakest as a country. Most of our women
were infected with that damn virus and then….”
“Hey, I can read. I know the fucking history.” Deacon snarled. “The war, people
left the country, especially the minorities. The old one percent motorcycle clubs back
them saw the opportunity and put aside their differences for the moment. They merged
together and took over different parts of the country. The US was already involved in two
wars at the time. There was no more man power so to speak, hence the fall of the old
United States government. Bikers moved to the top of the food chain all over the world.
With that much power to be had people of course people got greedy. Within twenty years,
things went back to how they were, men fighting over territory, guns, drugs and women. Now
tell me how you happen upon a black girl” Deacon ordered. He had half a mind to toss this
old man into the river and be done with him.
The old man had a twinkle in his eyes. It was the first time he ever had anything
that anyone wanted. They wanted the girl which meant he had half a chance of walking out
of there alive.
“I just stumbled upon her.” He laughed nervously at how silly it sound but it was
the truth. He had literally tripped right over the girl and accidently shot her with the
tranquilizer dart he had. He carried it with him when he scavenged for food; it was the
only weapon he had left.
“What do you want for her?” Deacon asked, not fully believing the man. “Jade I
suppose.”
“No sir, that stuff is bad for you. I need a vehicle and enough gas to get me and
my great grandchildren to the east coast.”
Deacon whistled. “Expensive, you’re asking a lot for some pussy.”
“Her blood is clean I‘m sure of it.”
“Oh we’ll check and she better be a pure too pops, either way no pussy is worth a
vehicle and that much gas.” Deacon could see the old man starting shift nervously. Sweat
rolled down his floppy, jawed face, like rain water. “You got a name pops?”
“Nelson, everyone calls me Nelson. I was named after my grandfather.” He took out a
dingy white handkerchief this time instead of using his hand and dabbed his face. “Mr.
Pike, please. I have to get my great grandchildren out of this part of the country at
least. I’d love to leave the country entirely but I’m a realistic man. This is no place to
raise small children. The drug and turf wars, it’s just too much death for children to
see.” He looked from Deacon back to the one who had searched him and smiled nervously.
“I...I didn’t mean you all, The Demon Dogs are...”
“In control of the mid west” Nick piped up with a gruff, pride filled voice.
The old man jumped and dabbed his forehead once again. “I’ll bring the girl, and
you tell me what she is worth to you. Though I really, need the vehicle and gas.”
“Bring the girl, then we’ll talk” Deacon said.
***
Five Days Later:
Ireland bit down on her bottom lip as the old man lead her in by the rope that held
her wrist bound. She took in her surrounding with amazement. She had heard so many stories
about the New States, how clean blooded women were a rare thing, especially black women.
An enormous insignia of a vicious demon creature with fire blazing all around it
covered the outer wall of the. “Are we really at the…” her voice failed her as the reality
of her situation set in.
“The mother chapter of the Demon Dogs” the old man whispered. “Now please be
quiet.”
Her elderly captor led her to a huge, red haired man. They both were then subjected
to a body search that left her and her captor both in tears with blood spilling out of the
back of their neck. After their ordeal was over with, they followed the massive red haired
man into the compound.
“Noooo!” Ireland screamed as she began to struggle. She screamed and pulled at the
rope on her wrist, taking the old man to the ground. She dragged him behind her as tried
to run in the opposite direction. It was a futile effort; the big man was upon her in half
a step, throwing her to the ground by grabbing a hand full of her long dark hair.
Even after she hit the ground, Ireland continued to struggle. Nick watched the
spectacle for a moment then snatched the girl up off the ground. “Listen up little girl.
Your body is no longer yours whether we take you or this old fucker here keeps you. Do not
damage the merchandise by putting up a pointless fight. Got it?”
Ireland stared into the cold blue eyes of the flaming haired man and nodded in
compliance.
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