Chapter VII

Chapter 7 of the novel Reapers

Weeks trickled by since the incident at Raven's Pass. Emery's face had all but healed, but his pride was beyond repair. He spent most of his time avoiding eye contact with people at work, afraid he'd be pegged as weak or that he was the victim of a hate crime. It was all painfully embarassing to him.

"Are you gonna mope around forever about taking a few punches? I mean, come on. It happens to the best of us," Marielle giggled softly to herself, adding "Except for me, of course."

"I'm pretty sure you were traumatized by my injuries," Emery sneered at her.

"Yeah, but I've moved on. I'm in that stage where I can now look back, reflect, and laugh," She sighed happily, taking a moment to stop and bask in the memory.

"When you two are done wallowing in your emotional damages, could you possibly help me wait some of these tables? That'd be great," November scorned, storming through the middle of them as she proceeded to make her way from behind the bar and out into the foyer of Scottie's, food tray in hand.

Scottie's was having a fairly busy night, the usual on weekends. While Marielle and Emery quarrelled behind the bar, November was doing her best to keep up with the barrage of patrons staring her down, waiting for service. Nathaniel had accompanied her tonight and was sitting silently at the bar, tearing through a burger that was almost bigger than he was. Scottie wouldn't expect a dime for it, either. His good nature wouldn't allow it.

November hustled, bouncing from table to table and taking orders until they were bursting from her apron pockets. Her hair had begun to escape the pony tail holding it back, falling in a frayed mess in front of her disgruntled face as she jogged back and forth between the kitchen and dining area, only to see Emery and Marielle still squabbling. November hung the order tickets on the line leading to the kitchen in a fury and sent them hurling towards the cook before turning on her heel towards Emery. In a raging stomp, she made her way to his back and snatched him by the collar, dragging him towards the dining area as he gasped for air. Upon approaching the first table, November shoved Emery violently in front of her and proceeded to introduce him to the table full of horrified guests.

"Hi, everyone, this is Emery, and he'll be taking care of you tonight. Make sure you have an extremely complicated order because he loves a challenge. Enjoy your evening!" She greeted in a cheerful but artificial tone, a forced smile plastered across her face. Just as soon as the words left her mouth, she turned and stomped off, still in a flustered rage.

The night flew by in a blur. Once November finally got Emery away from Marielle, everything began to run smoothly. That wasn't, of course, without November listening to her fair share of complaints for her forgetfulness while she was practically running the restaurant alone. There were only a few patrons left as the hours clept closer to closing time.

Nathaniel was still hanging out quietly at the bar, making small talk with Marielle to pass the time while he waited for his sister to get off. He didn't enjoy spending his time at home, alone. Since he'd been sick everyone treated him like something fragile and breakable. It was nice for him to get out every once in a while to feel normal again.

November, meanwhile, had finally cleared out most of her guests and was taking a much needed break behind the bar. She leaned her exhausted body against the tall, wooden bar, her head falling limp in her hands as she heard the doors burst open. "Great. More grouchy, picky old farts who want me to reheat their potatoes for so long that they die and decay at the table before they get them." November thought bitterly to herself before looking up with an exhausted sigh and an ecstatic squeal of glee from Marielle.

"Yay! You made it!" She called, clapping her hands together like one of those trained seals at a waterpark.

"Yay! We did!" A young man called back, clapping his hands together in a mocking manner, his steely eyes locked on Marielle.

November stood there, washed in complete confusion as she glanced at Marielle and then to the five individuals who had just come in.

The first two were young men who appeared to be in their early twenties, one with a head full of curly dark hair and bright silver eyes, the other with short, cropped hair that sat perfectly in place upon his chiseled features whom Marielle joyfully introduced as Ezekiel and Cavanaugh.

"These are the guys I was telling you about, November! The ones who saved that dumbass," She giggled, nodding to Emery as he emerged from the kitchen, wide-eyed at their visitors.

"Hey!" Emery called out, offering a friendly wave, reassuring them he'd be back once he checked in with his table.

"Okay, so who are your friends?" Marielle asked, eagerly, nodding to the other three that accompanied them as November approached to join in on the conversation.

"I don't know if I'd call them friends," Ezekiel smirked, his gaze shifting to the other three before taking a seat at the bar.

Cavanaugh simply rolled his eyes. "This is Aurora, Michael, and Ryker." He explained.

Aurora was a petite girl who appeared to be no more than a teenager. Her thick blonde hair was twisted into a messy bun atop her head and her emerald eyes found themselves wandering around the restaurant in a look of utter disdain before she took a seat next to Ezekiel at the bar. Michael found a place at the bar as well, shifting on his stool awkwardly as he tried to find a comfortable position for his lanky, thin frame. He ran a hand through his messy dirty blonde hair before reaching into his pocket to pull out a cigarette. A quick flip of a lighter brought the flame to life as he brought it to the cigarette in his lips

"Whoa! While we are technically a bar, and not the classiest of one either, there's no smoking in here. Sorry. Don't you know that stuff gives you cancer, anyway?" November lectured, waving her hands in disapproval.

Michael sat there blankly, more shocked than anything that November had dared say anything, with his hands raised in the air like he was under arrest.

"Alright, Surgeon General. I won't light it. Just don't drag me to the Gallows," he mocked, tucking the lighter back into the pocket of his leather jacket.

Ryker was clearly the largest of the bunch and seemed to be the least happy to be there. He was fairly muscular, broad-shouldered as well. His hair was buzzed close to his scalp, but not completely shaved and his eyes were an intimidating shade of slate blue. Ryker turned his attention from the conversation at the bar and sat silently a few seats away from the rest of the group.

"Well, it's nice to meet all of you! I'm Marielle, this is November, and this is Emery," Marielle introduced them all excitedly.

The group offered them waves of recognition and a simple nod from Ryker.

"My God, are you their groupie? Stop making everyone uncomfortable. Can I get you guys anything?" November interrupted, shoving herself in front of Marielle. "I trust you're all 21," She added, glancing in Aurora's direction. "And I appreciate you not letting my friend get his face stomped in by a raging redneck, too." November continued, offering Ezekiel and Cavanaugh a friendly handshake.

"It was our pleasure," Cavanaugh reassured her. "Vodka, please."

"Beer for me. Bottled," Aurora chimed in.

"Bourbon," Michael added.

"Oh, I want a chocolate shake!" Ezekiel squealed, his eyes darting all over the to-go menu in his hand.

"Christ, you're an infant," Aurora groaned, shooting Ezekiel a pained glance.

"What?!" He asked, confused.

"Got it," November confirmed, taking note Ryker was still sitting in complete silence down the bar. She turned her attention to Marielle. "Look, bartender. Things for you to do!" November demanded, shoving a ticket at her with a look of false enjoyment on her face.

"Yeah, yeah," Marielle mumbled, snatching it from her hand to go make the drinks.

November had noticed Emery had gotten tied up explaining who they were to Scottie and Nathaniel as she made her way to the bottle of whiskey sitting against the far wall of the bar. Unscrewing the lid, she poured the dark alcohol over a few cubes of ice that rested in a tumbler glass. Taking it in her hand, she found herself in front of the silent Ryker, placing it in front of him.

"Strong, silent type who looks like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders... Definitely a whiskey man," November guessed, sliding a small tumbler in his direction.

"Good guess," He said softly, his stern eyes lifting to meet hers before grabbing the glass and and downing it in one long swoop as a wide-eyed November watched.

"Well then, refill?" She asked pleasantly, picking the cup up and wiggling it in the air.

"No, I'm alright. Thank you." He responded.

"Well, I also am a very good listener if you want to talk about it. Judgement free. Cross my heart," November offered.

"I'm fine. Just a little work-related stress is all. Nothing you should worry yourself with." Ryker explained. "But I appreciate it, really. How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it." November assured him, offering a small smile. "Just let me know if you need anything." She offered him an understanding nod and made her way back to check on the few remaining customers.

Meanwhile, Marielle had delivered the drinks to the remaining four at the bar. Ezekiel attacked his shake like a mad man, while Aurora, Michael, and Cavanaugh calmly sipped at their drinks.

"Nice to see you guys again. Glad it's under better circumstances," Emery chuckled at Cavanaugh and Ezekiel as he approached them from the far side of the bar.

"We're just glad to see you made a full recovery," Cavanaugh grinned as Ezekiel nodded while blowing bubbles in what was left of his shake.

"I hate to cut this visit short, but we've really got to be getting back," Ryker announced, rising from his seat.

"Aw, but you guys just got here!" Marielle pleaded, throwing her hands in the air. "Fine, fine.. and don't worry about it. On the house!" She objected, noticing that they were all reaching into their pockets for money. "Don't be strangers!"

"Oh, I was just going to hand November back her pen she dropped," Michael explained, tossing the black pen to November. "I know you guys value those things around here," He added.

"Ah, thank you! We really do!" November grinned, tucking it away into her apron pocket.

They finished off the drinks with a long chug in unison and headed towards the door, gesturing a few waves to November, Emery, and Marielle as they made their way out.

"We did not come to this town to shake hands and kiss babies," Ryker reprimanded the others as they strolled across the parking lot.

"Calm down, Ryker. We needed a visual and we got one. Perry sent us out here because he trusts you," Aurora defended.

"I know he does, but we could've just put these innocent people in danger, especially the closer ones. There are other ways we could have gotten this accomplished," Ryker explained.

"What? How? No one knows we're here. No one even knows who we are," Ezekiel chimed in.

"Aurora is right, we needed a first hand visual on the target. We got it, it was quick, so we can move forward with extraction. No one is the wiser, like Zeke said," Cavanaugh offered.

"I wouldn't be so sure. I've been monitoring a few subjects that have been frequenting the target's known locations. I would say it's simply coincidence, but the timing is just too...perfect. I haven't gotten a clear view of them yet, only a few shots of the same vehicle. But I'm pretty sure someone knows we're here, or something is being planned, I haven't pinpointed which. However, I do agree for us to be successful we needed to be sure of who we were looking for, based on Perry's information," Michael revealed.

"Yeah, he didn't exactly give us great details other than a young boy who would be gravely ill," Ezekiel groaned, throwing his hands up in frustration. "I mean, we've trailed the other kids we had a list of and they were all busts."

"Well he couldn't exactly give us an intinerary. Perry only gave me the best of what he could gather." Ryker replied. "However, we could've confirmed this from afar. There was no need to involve ourselves in these people's lives."

"Ryker, we're going to have to involve ourselves in their lives one way or another. We know something terrible is coming their way, and if we don't stop it, who will?" Cavanaugh reasoned, his hazel eyes meeting Ryker's grey-blue ones.

Ryker's gaze lightened from a stern glare to content at his explanation.

"I suppose," He said softly.

"See, Ryk, you worry too much! We got this!" Ezekiel gleemed, playfully punching Ryker in his arm as they approached their vehicles. "Now, let's get back and get a plan together. I'm starting to feel like we came here to retire." He smirked, pulling his motorcycle helment from his handlebars and sliding it over his head.

"He's right, Ryker," Cavanaugh added, a reassuring nod from Ryker following. "It's time we make a move, before someone a lot less friendly does." He warned as he pulled his own motorcycle helment on.

"Oh, I see I've been demoted to taking orders from the twins," Ryker grumbled as the remaining three took their seats inside of the shining cherry red Chevrolet Chevelle SS.

"Don't take it that way, Ryker. They mean well. This is a situation we've never been in before. It's hard to know all the right steps to take. I mean, sure we've dealt with some pretty heavy stuff before, but we had a clear vision of what we had to do. This time, everything's so murky and uncertain." Aurora comforted him. "You're a great leader. Trust me, you think I'd take orders from any a*****e?" She chuckled. "Let's get out of here and go figure out what kind of a*s kickery you've got for me."

Ryker laughed softly as the engine of the car roared to life. The bright lights of the two Ducatis that held Cavanaugh and Ezekiel zoomed passed them into the darkness as he shifted the car into drive. The cry of eight cylinder's worth of American muscle echoed through the night air as the Chevelle exited the parking lot of Scottie's and followed the two motorcycles down the winding roads of Angel's Crossing. Little did they know, the same black BMW that had been spotted by not only Michael, but November in weeks prior had been in that same parking lot the entire time.