Claimed by the Mafia Biker
The Outriders surged as one, rushing us like a tide.
Blade roared, charging forward, slamming into the first with his shoulder. “Come on, you bastards!”
I rose, firing point-blank, dropping one, two—then the third slammed into me. We hit the dirt, fists flying. I rammed my elbow into his jaw, grabbed his rifle, twisted, fired.
Nova’s scream rang out. “Cruz!”
“Stay back!” I barked, shoving the dead weight off me.
Blade kicked one Outrider down, gun cracking. “They just keep coming!”