Short Fiction

Snake Became a Big Bad Biker, and He Had No Regrets

It was a good thing his mom was gone

The two bikers weaved their motorcycles through the rush hour traffic. They took the exit and headed to their target. A strip club that was the hangout of the biker gang that thought they could encroach on the Satan’s Killers’ turf.

The parking lot was full, with big bikes and pickup trucks everywhere. Hulk and Snake parked their bikes at the furthest spot from the strip club entrance. The noise, loud music, shouts, and laughter could be heard all over the parking lot.

A lifetime of bad decisions lead to that night

“I hope I’m down for this,” Snake thought, as he got off his bike and opened the saddlebag. He took out the submachine gun that Hulk and the other one-percenters had drilled into him how to use.

Their boots crunched on the gravel. They approached the entrance unnoticed by the loud crowd of bikers going in and out of the strip club. “This is far enough,” Hulk said as he held up his hand. Snake took a deep breath and willed the shaking to stop.

Snake thought he had the guts

“Let’s see if you got what it takes,” Hulk said. He flipped the safety off and aimed the submachine gun at the crowded entrance. Snake swallowed back the bile rising in his throat and copied the older biker.

The two men opened fire; the sound of machine-gun fire drowned out the screams. They emptied their magazines. They turned and ran back to their bikes. within minutes, they were back on the highway heading to the clubhouse.

The booze and drugs didn’t silence his mother’s voice in his head

“I did it, I can’t believe it, but I did it.” Snake thought as he glanced at Hulk riding next to him. The two bikers made it to the clubhouse without incident. They were given a hero’s welcome by the rest of the chapter.

Snake didn’t come down from the crystal meth for days. When he crashed, he slept a fitful sleep. His mother’s spirit wouldn’t give him any peace. He had fallen a long way.

He thought he was “ Grown”

He wasn’t the dutiful son of a minister that he was when he was a boy, “Damned right,” he thought; “I’m a man now. I don’t need your disapproval mom.” He shouted from the bed.

When he returned to the clubhouse, he reveled in the nods of respect that he received. Hulk smiled in pride, as he watched his protégé soak up all the attention. “I made it.” Snake thought as he took a hit from the spliff in one hand and a gulp of beer from the can in his other hand.

The attack at the strip club made national headlines. There were fifty fatalities, and hundreds were wounded. Satan’s Killers’ reputation grew, and so did their numbers. Several smaller biker gangs were patched over and absorbed into the larger gang.

Killing became second nature

Snake became a hardened enforcer. He killed and destroyed on demand. He earned a reputation as a loyal stone killer, but he never could silence the voice of his dead mother.

He ran, but he couldn’t hide

Five years and twenty murders later, Snake died in a collision on the freeway. It went down as an accident. Snake finally found the peace that he was looking for. He found out too late, that if you run from your parent’s wise teachings, you will pay a price in the end.