Chapter 7 - Flight in the Dark
Jax struck Marcus with the heavy butt of the Kimber, knocking him unconscious instantly. He quickly stripped the downed biker of his tactical radio, spare magazines, and a satellite phone, tossing Marcus’s assault rifle into the deep brush where it couldn't be easily retrieved.
Jax returned to the overhang, scooped Lily into his arms, and retrieved the teddy bear. He left his Nomad leather vest lying in the dirt beside Marcus—a deliberate statement. Jax was dead to them now; only the wolf remained.
They hiked three miles through rugged, unmapped mountain ridges, avoiding every paved road and forest service trail. Jax kept Lily tucked close against the chill of the mountain midnight, her small body shivering despite Sarah's duffel bag wrapped around her shoulders.
""My feet hurt, Daddy,"" Lily whispered softly after hours of navigating loose rock and thorny brush.
""I know, baby. Just a little further,"" Jax said, his heart aching at her endurance. ""I’m going to carry you the rest of the way.""
He hoisted her onto his shoulders, letting her hold onto his hair. In the quiet rhythm of their steps, Jax switched on Marcus’s radio, keeping the earpiece pressed tight to his ear. The Nomad frequency was buzzing with frantic chatter.
""Target broke Marcus's jaw at the motel. He's on foot with the asset,"" a voice crackled through the static. It was Deacon, the club's vice president. ""Gabriel's private contractors are locking down Highway 9 and the southern county bridge. Shoot on sight. Bring the hard drive to the compound.""
Jax shut the radio off. Gabriel Vance’s wealth had bought the entire network. Every route out of the county was an ambush waiting to spring. There was only one person left in this state who despised the Nomads more than Jax did—a ghost from his past who lived off the grid in the sunken wetlands of the Blackwood Swamp.
By dawn, they reached an abandoned logging cabin hidden deep in the valley. Inside the rotting shed out back sat an ancient, mud-spattered Ford Bronco, covered in dry tarp. Jax popped the hood, praying the engine wasn't seized.
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As he turned the rusted key, the engine sputtered, coughed blue smoke, and roared to life. Lily smiled for the first time, clutching her bear on the passenger seat.
Then, from the dirt road ahead, a black drone descended silently from the clouds, hovering directly in front of the windshield.
