Shield (EBOOK)

Shield

So, this is how I die. 

I watched the bastards swarm my motorcycle, my heart breaking as I watched my painstakingly restored pride and joy disappear under a crush of bodies. 

Not that she's much use these days.

I stood on the hot tin roof of the toilet block, watching the horde gnash their teeth and scratch at the flimsy tin walls—their mindless rage capable of fuelling them for hours. 

Will death come from exposure or dehydration? From a rogue bastard bite? Or will I get lucky and just suffer a sudden onset heart attack from which I never awaken? 

I pulled the gun from my hip, checking the chamber. 

"Fuck." 

I had five bullets left, zero water, and a horde of about fifty bastards blocking my escape.

Stupid fuck. Should have abandoned her. 

I watched, my heart heavy, as another bastard tripped over my bike, dragging her across the gravel, shredding her paint job. 

"We had a good run, darling." I lowered my head, closing my eyes as I mourned both of us. 

Here lies Rusty and Shield, killed by a horde because the fucker decided his bike meant more than his life. 

I fancied that I could hear her growling in the distance, her ghost coming to welcome me home. 

My head raised, ears pricking. 

"What the fuck?"

Those weren't Rusty's pipes. Either I was hallucinating, or those were actual motorcycle engines. 

Shit. Cannibal, militia, or friend? 

I palmed my gun, considering my options. 

"Let's see, a horde of brainless bastards ready to rip me apart?" 

As if on cue, a bastard smashed into the side of the toilet block, the metal buckling under his weight. 

"Or rescue with the potential for a long slow torturous death followed by a roasting over an open flame?"

I raised my pistol. "Well, this is an easy fucking decision."

With practised ease, I shot twice, taking out two bastards in the process. 

The engines drew closer, their roar music to my ears.

The bastards grew restless, twisting and turning, bodies shaking as their primal minds attempted to decide whether to fight or flee. 

Go on, fuckers. You know you want to. 

Half the horde ran, taking off into the bush behind the toilet block. The other half remained, advancing on the road. 

The vehicles finally appeared over the ridge, shining beacons of mechanical hope. 

Two tankers, an SUV, and three bikes. Well, if this isn't a Mad Max movie waiting to happen, I don't know what is. 

I grinned as I clocked one of the bikes at the front of the pack. 

"I'll be fucking damned." 

I lifted a hand as the party flew down the highway, the front bike's light flashing in acknowledgement. 

The bikes dropped back, allowing the trucks to glide forward as the remaining bastards swarmed the road. The front tanker hit the horde at speed, taking out half of the pack. The second tanker followed, cleaning up most of the remaining swarm. 

I winced, listening to the unholy crunch of bodies under wheels. "That's effective."

I crossed my arms, frowning as a woman I didn't recognise leaned out the front passenger window of one of the SUVs. Her black hair flew behind her as she laid waste to the remaining bastards, the machine gun in her hands tearing rotten limbs from bone. 

With a flourish, the SUV skidded to a halt in front of the toilet block, the woman tilting her head back to grin up at me. 

Her large eyes were wide and shining with friendly amusement behind her thick-rimmed precariously balanced glasses. Her limbs were long and graceful and kissed a golden pink by the warm sun. A gush of wind caught the loose strands of her straight ebony hair, tossing the tresses across her face. 

She swiped impatiently at her face, brushing them away. 

"Hey," she said, shoving glasses up her nose. "I'm Audrey. Looks like you need a rescue." 

My gaze swept down her top. The material hung open, granting me an unobstructed view of her tits. My cock hardened in response. 

Oh, darlin'. I'm not the one who needs a rescue. 

A lazy smile pulled at my lips. 

"You could say that." 

A bastard tumbled out of the dense brush behind the toilet block, gnashing its teeth as it ran at the vehicle. A dog leapt at the back window of the SUV, barking furiously. Casually, Audrey pushed her glasses up her nose, raised her gun and shot it in the head. 

I watched it fall, twitch once and die. 

Shit. I think I'm in love. 

"If you want to get out of here, you better climb down," she said, lowering her weapon without so much as a flinch. "We're on a tight schedule." She pretended to look at a non-existent watch on her wrist. "Need to get to Tindarey by nightfall." She jerked her finger to the SUV. "You can ride with Killer."  

"Killer?"

She grinned. "The name is well deserved, trust me." 

I jumped from my perch as the motorcycles circled and the trucks parked. Dusting my hands on my equally filthy jeans, I shook my head, grinning when I recognised my rescue party.

In addition to the pretty Audrey, there were my Club members—Runner, Pope, and Wrath. 

What are the chances? 

Runner, a tall, lean brother from the Adaminaby chapter, reached out to grasp my hand, hauling me in for a back-slapping hug. 

"Prez," he greeted with a laugh. "What the fuck are you doing out here?"

"Could ask the same of you." I released him and turned to Pope, getting the same welcome. "Grateful you motherfuckers arrived at the just right time. Was getting mighty hot up there."

Pope's grin came quick and easy. "That's what she said."

I shove him away, chuckling. 

The guy was younger than the rest of us, somewhere in his late twenties, with the kind of rockstar looks that landed him a lot of pussy. Could've gone to his head, could have made him a dick, but while the guy took what was offered, word was he gave just as much back. 

As much as it killed me to collect this kind of info about the brothers in my Club, it was my job to know it. I ran a tight ship. The brothers could party, they could get wild, fuck around, do whatever might not have been considered entirely legal in the Before. But there was a code of honour. I'd learned the hard way that men who were dicks to women, kids or animals tended to be the ones who stabbed you when your back was turned.

It was one of the reasons I was headed to Adaminaby. 

Pope stepped back, and Wrath took his place, clasping one of my hands, his gaze searching my face. 

Wrath had been nomad since just before the Dark—when the world that was already shit had truly gone to hell. Bombs dropping, communications broken, militia, the army, fuckwits… it had been a truly fucked period and remained so. With no comms, we'd been forced to rely on nomads like Wrath—talented soldiers who knew how to ride, fight and live rough. They did it. They ate the danger; they lived with the fear and loneliness—all for their brothers, for the Club. They did it to make sure our people had the information we needed to be safe.

I needed them, but fuck if I didn't hate forcing them onto a path I wasn't sure they'd emerge from.   

I looked Wrath over, noting the new salt and pepper at his temples and worry lines at the corners of his eyes. He had a leanness to him—no doubt brought on by a lack of decent meals. But overall, the brother looked good, healthy and—dare I say—content? 

"You good?" he asked, voice low. 

I gave him a chin lift. "You?"

Colour me shook; the fucker actually smiled. 

"Yeah."

"Jesus," I muttered, stepping back and slapping a hand to my chest. "Someone broke Wrath."

"Nah," Runner drawled, unclipping his water canister from his waist to toss it to me. "He found a girl who put him back together."

My eyebrows lifted. "A girl or the girl?" 

Wrath crossed his arms, planting his feet. "Old lady."

I knew what that meant—he wouldn't be going nomad anymore. It'd be a loss for the Club, but I was glad he'd found a little peace in the chaos. 

I nodded, accepting his declaration. "Happy for you, brother."

"It's Kate."

I frowned, not comprehending his declaration before realisation slammed into me. 

"As in—?"

He nodded. 

"Well fuck." I huffed out an amused laugh. "Thought she was gone to the wind?"

Wrath's lips twisted up. "Seems the wind thought kindly enough of us to bring her back."

I scratched my chin, my mind racing. "She's a plant girl, right? Was doing something with plants?"

"B-b-b-botanist," came the stumbled reply. 

I twisted, surprised to see a group of women approaching from one of the vehicles.

Women.

The virus's rampage had depleted the world's population. In the blink of an eye, families were torn apart, friends dead. Females were particularly hard hit. The scientists in the Before had explained the virus did something with the X chromosome—meaning men, while vulnerable, at least had a 50-50 chance. Women and those with chromosomal abnormalities? Not so much. 

Two percent. That had been the survival rate before the world went dark. Two fucking percent. 

There'd been promise of a vaccine. The government had started rolling it out, then the world went to shit. 

"Fuck," I muttered, watching the women stroll toward me. "Where'd you find them?"

"They found us."

I glanced at Runner, finding him watching me. "You claimed one?"

He grinned. "Of course. And she's a fucking biochemist." His arm swept out to encompass the oil tankers. "Fuel, brother. She can conjure fuel." 

Fuck. 

With a skill like that, the woman was more precious than the fucking air we breathed. 

And just as valuable to every other motherfucker in this godforsaken world. 

As if on cue, his woman moved to his side, pressing into him in a half hug. Runner's arm automatically wrapped around her, holding her to him.

"Prez, this is Ellie."

Blonde hair, big tits, curves. She was exactly Runner's type. 

I held out a hand for her to shake. "Pleasure, darlin'."

She took my hand, tilting her head to one side as she read the patch on my kutte. 

"Prez?" she asked. 

"National President, baby girl," Runner explained, his arm clasped around his woman. "Actual name is Shield. He's who you have to thank for us having half a fighting chance. Called our separation from society early, ordered the chapters to amalgamate, stockpile, weaponize."

Not early enough. 

"I hear you're who I have to thank for this abundance?" I swept a hand to encompass tankers. 

She dipped her head, a blush touching her cheeks. "It was a joint effort."

I glanced at Wrath, unsurprised to find him in a similar clinch with his woman. 

Strawberry blonde hair, startling blue eyes, and a body that reminded me of pin-up girls even when filthy and cased in utilitarian clothing, Kate had always been a looker. Just as I and every other fucker in the Club had known she'd always been Wrath's. 

"Shield, you remember Kate?" Wrath guided them both forward with a hand to his woman's lower back. 

"Absolutely," I took her hand, giving her a warm squeeze. "Great to see you again."  

"You too." 

"Your pa still running Adaminaby?"

The jovial atmosphere cracked, tension shimmering around us. 

"No," Kate whispered, her face hardening. "He's d-dead."

My shoulders eased. "Good." 

Her mouth dropped open, her eyebrows rising. "Good?"

I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest. "If he wasn't, I'd be seeing to it myself. Old Prez fucked up putting him in charge."

Wrath rubbed his chin. "Why do you say that?"

Anger bubbled my blood. 

"Men at the Plantation raided a Purge safehouse. The fuckers were running drugs through our area, fucking up the local populace and decimating what was left of the community we're working to preserve."

I caught the women exchanging knowing looks. 

"They had women. Lots of 'em. Selling 'em, using 'em. Filthy, starving, desperate."

The image of that hot box with women barely alive, filthy, traumatised—it would stay with me forever. 

"Cleaned shop. Got the women back to the Plantation. Got them help. They're Club now. Those that wanted to stay. The rest, we did what we could to make them safe."

Some hadn't made it. Too far gone in the head or their body. Others had decided to make their own way. But those that had stayed had begun making their home with us. Some had men, some women, some alone or with friends they'd begun to make. They were putting down roots and making their lives amongst my people. 

They were my people now. And I had to protect them. All of them. 

"What does 'clean shop' mean?" Audrey asked from her place behind Kate. 

I softened my voice. "Killed them, darlin'."

She nodded, shoving her glasses up her nose. "Good."

Amused, I crossed my arms, locking eyes with her. "You condone violence?"

"When it is deserved." She threw her arms out to encompass the world around us. "And I can't see a police officer or judge anywhere." 

I raised an eyebrow, impressed by her pragmatism. I'd travelled through rugged country over the last three years, each time forced to choose my life over another's. I took in her gaze, noting the shadows that played behind her eyes. 

These violent delights have violent ends. 

"W-w-what happened then?" Kate asked, drawing my gaze back to her. I noted the tension in her shoulders, the way her lips puckered at the corners, and her skin pinched under her eyes. 

She knows. 

I softened my tone, watching her reaction. "One was Nameless Souls. Had been brought up from Kiama and stayed in Adaminaby until Gus and his woman summoned her. Next thing, she woke up in a truck bound with another girl."

"He handed them to the Purge."

I nodded. "Gift-fucking-wrapped." My hands curled into fists. "Our Club does a lot of shit to survive—kill, steal, deal. But never—and I mean fucking never—will we resort to selling our people for safety."

Kate's tension eased, her head nodding. "Agree."

Wrath moved then, his arm tightening around his woman. "Kate took care of it. Gus is gone."

I eyed Kate, noting the new edge to her. "Appreciate it, Kate. Sorry you have to wear that mark on your soul."

She shook her head. "I wear nothing. The man didn't deserve to breathe. All I did was scrub the scum away."

I wanted to ask further questions, but her gaze cut to Wrath, and I saw the emotion simmering under the surface. For all she talked a good talk, the woman had demons. 

And yet, she hadn't stuttered when delivering her verdict. Interesting. 

"Who took lead?" I asked, changing the subject. 

"Brothers voted. Hazard's up."

My eyebrows rose, a grin creeping across my face. "And he accepted?"

"We didn't exactly give him any choice."

I chuckled, imagining his reaction. "That must have been a sight."

"Let's just say leadership isn't his preferred position, but he's settling in."

I bet. 

Hazard was a good choice. Reliable, trustworthy, knew how to calm tensions and when to escalate. He dealt with shit swiftly, held his head in a jam, and was strategic—always two steps ahead of the rest of the Club.

Tension I'd been carrying for months loosened in my gut. I should have trusted that the Club would take care of business.  

I glanced at the women hanging behind our small group. 

"And they are?"

Runner gestured them forward. 

"This is Jo and Audrey."

I shook hands with Jo, noting the suspicious gleam in her eyes and the proud tilt of her head. An inch or two above average height, the woman was broad and strong with plain brunette hair just long enough to tie into a short braid. Her dark skin held a smattering of freckles and a touch of red from the sun. She exuded 'fuck off' vibes, her manner coarse, her expression closed. 

I liked her immediately. 

Jo struck me as the kind of woman you didn't mess with unless you were ready to dig deep and uncover the numerous secrets hiding behind those sad, suspicious eyes. 

"Pleasure," I murmured, letting her hand go. "How'd you get mixed up with this lot?"

The woman's lips tipped up into a grudging smile. "Not through any choice of mine, I can assure you."

I chuckled, turning to the last of the group—and the woman who intrigued me most. 

"Audrey," she said, sticking out her hand. "But we've already met."

"That we have." I slid my palm against hers, surprised to find her skin a silk and callous combination. 

Not just a pretty face. 

Her glasses were big on her small face, emphasising her golden eyes. Her inky black hair had been pulled back into a high ponytail, strands slipping free to fall around her face. In one word—stunning. I had a feeling she could bring a man to his knees. 

No complaints here. 

As if hearing my thoughts, Audrey's lips tipped up. 

"You're attractive," she told me, her gaze roaming over my face. "Pity about the beard."

I raised a hand to stroke the offensive facial hair. "My beard is a problem?"

She nodded. "I can't tell if you have a weak chin. A woman wants to ride a man's face, not fall off due to lack of depth and jaw strength."

Behind me, I heard poorly smothered laughter and a sigh of exasperation. 

"That happen often?" I asked, swallowing my amusement. 

She sighed heavily. "More often than you think. It's enough to make you reconsider oral sex." 

Unable to resist the devil sitting on my shoulder, I stepped closer, dropping my voice. 

"Baby, if you're that desperate, I'll shave."

She blinked once, her expression morphing into pure delight. "Seriously?"

I grinned, stupidly pleased that I'd surprised her. 

You wanna cool it? You got a job to do. She may be cute as fuck, but you can't be fucking around while your people are in need. 

"Absolutely," I answered, ignoring my conscious. 

She clasped her hands together in front of her, dancing from foot to foot. "When? Now? Can we—"

"Heads up," Runner interrupted. "Company." 

Jolted from the pleasure of Audrey, I glanced up, noting the movement on the far horizon. 

"That'll be the migration."

"Migration?" Pope asked, shooting me a look. 

"Between here and Cobar is a shit fight. Purge, refugees, and bastards flowing from one end of the highway to the other and on every road in between." I shook my head. "Nearly got gunned down for my bike." 

"Refugees?" Pope asked, his eyebrows raising. 

I nodded once, my lips curling in distaste. "Brisbane through Sydney is a mess. Government bombed whatever they could to try and stop the flow of bastards. Failed. Big time. People have been running out of those areas for months, following the main highways trying to find a place to settle." 

"Which in turn is making them feeding grounds for bastards," Wrath finished, his expression knowing. 

"It's gotten worse since winter," I confirmed. "If we're headed to Cunnamulla, our best bet is to go back roads, which means avoiding Cobar and Burke."

Pope's eyebrows rose. "You're suggesting we loop out to Sturt?"

I nodded. "It'll add days to our trip, but—"

"It'll be safer," Wrath finished, nodding once. "If it was just us and the tankers, I might suggest we risk going forward. But with the women…." He let his thought trail off. 

"Which loop you thinking?" Runner asked, scratching his chin. 

"We'll have to go right back to Hillston to avoid the worst of it."

The men swore. 

"I know," I agreed grimly. "But with fuel and women, we're attractive targets."

"And on that cheerful note, let's get the fuck out of here." Runner slapped a hand on my shoulder. "Pope, wheel Rusty around. We'll get her filled and ready while Shield briefs the others." 

"Who's on watch?" I asked. 

"Texas and Butcher. Along with Switch—one of our prospects," Wrath answered, his gaze locked on the horizon. "Killer's around somewhere. She's a fucking bastard radar." 

I chuckled. "Useful." 

"We got another girl, too—Lottie. A vet, though she's nursing Zero rather than animals at the moment."

"Zero's here?"

"Yeah. But—" Wrath hesitated. "He's in rough shape. Real rough."

"What happened?"

"Bastard bite. Managed to save him—lost the left arm, though. He's tough but…." He shook his head. 

I sobered, wincing. Bastard fluids transferred the corrupt virus from the host to a new victim. If you lived long enough to survive the initial attack, your days were numbered unless you stopped the main infection. 

Removing a limb was quick, but in these days of zero hospital care, it was just as risky as the bite itself.

A good reminder of your responsibility. Don't let a pretty girl divert you from what you need to do. 

I glanced around. "Where is he?"

"In the tanker's bed."

I nodded. "I'll check on him before we go. You sure you got enough fuel to spare?"

Runner's lips tipped up. "I think we can swing it." 

"Then let's get her fuelled and get the fuck out of here." I tilted my head toward the growing number of people on the horizon. "Prefer not to get into another gunfight today."

"Just saying," Pope muttered as he began pushing Rusty toward the tankers. "Farmer ain't gonna be happy to see our ugly mugs once again." 

My gut clenched. "You stayed with Farmer?" 

Pope halted, slapping a hand to his face. "Shit. I'm a fuckwit." He nodded. "Yeah, Prez. Left there earlier today. Your sister was there. She's good. Baby is good. She's—"

My chest tightened. "Baby?"

Audrey sighed loudly, drawing my attention. "What the Neanderthal is attempting to say is that your sister, Mari, is pregnant." 

I bent, feeling as if I'd been sucker punched in the gut. 

A baby.

I closed my eyes, processing the chaos of emotions swamping me. 

Fuck. I'm gonna be an uncle. 

A million thoughts ran through my mind as I absorbed the news. So many things could go wrong. There was no health care. No midwives. This was the After. Every risk increased. 

They could be lost to me. 

Like Harpa. 

Distantly I was aware of people disbursing, giving me space to process the shock. 

A hand rested on the small of my back. 

"Are you alright?" Audrey asked, her voice soft. 

I straightened, nodding. "Fuck yeah."

Her gaze swept my face, her eyes big behind her glasses. "You didn't know."

"About the baby?" I shook my head. 

"No," Audrey corrected. "That she was still alive."

I nodded once. "Had hoped but…."

"Nothing is guaranteed in the After," she finished for me. She pressed her hand against my back, offering me a small smile. "You can see for yourself tonight." 

"Yeah."

One of the women called her name, and with a final glance, she dropped her hand and moved off, joining her friends. 

It took a little time, but thankfully time was on our side. 

I made my way out to where Butcher and Texas patrolled. Big and broad with tattoos and faces that said they meant business, these men had seen shit and weren't afraid to throw down when needed. 

"Good to see you, Prez." Texas gestured at the tankers. "Welcome to the future."

My lips quirked. "Who'd have thought you'd be riding point to protect fuel?"

Texas chuckled. "Some Mad Max fuckery, for sure." 

He clapped me on the back before turning to give Jo shit, shooting me an amused look when she snapped back. 

I see how it is. 

If Hazard hadn't taken on the job, I'd have suggested Texas for the role. Sharp as a tack and fiercely protective, he'd do what he needed to ensure our Club survived. 

Butcher stood watch, his face guarded as he stared at the road ahead. 

"You okay?" I asked, coming to stand beside him. 

"Can't go under them. Can't go over them. Guess we gotta go through them." 

My lips quirked at his use of lines from a kid's book. 

He glanced at me. "We got women. We got fuel. We got ammo and food and transport. You think those fuckers are gonna let us through without a fight?"

I shook my head. "Not a chance. Good thing we're not headed that way."

Butcher raised his eyebrow. "No?"

I shook my head. "Follow me, brother. I'll show you the way."

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