A/N: ****Completely AU. Basically all that remains is their names, faces, and a few personality traits, but other than that…Content and subject matter not suitable for younger audiences. Rated M for mature suggestive themes of gangs, drugs, violence, and death. May also include as well as harsh language. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU BELIEVE YOU CANNOT BE MATURE ABOUT THE CONTENT. I STRONGLY RECOMMEND YOU TAKE THIS INTO CONSIDERATION BEFORE YOU CONTINUE ON YOUR OWN ACCORD. VIEWER DISCRETION IS STRONGLY ADVISED****

Here's my newest story. So since I love "Sons of Anarchy" (a biker TV show) as well as the character faces from Austin & Ally. It's inspired and heavily influenced by SOA, so some of my characters and aspects reflect the show's. So anything familiar, I give full credit to the amazing show.

Also, the main locations of this story are towns I made up that are supposed to be located outside of Miami. I'm not sure if their real or not, so if they are, it's a coincidence. I don't know much, so most of the info for the area is from my own imagination, even if it isn't geographically correct.

Anyway, this one is my favourite concepts I've ever come up with, and it as has some of the coolest characters. It's super risky, so please, please let me know what you think.

Enjoy & Review!

P.S. This prologue involves Austin's grandfather and how and why he created his biker club, Deadwood Covenant. Don't let it throw you off from the story, thinking there is no Austin or Ally or anything of the usual. This is just really important to understand the rest of the story, as all prologues are meant to do.

-B

Bay Beach, FL. Outside of Miami.

May of 1951

The heavy May rain was coming down in sheets while Atticus Moon stood in the dimly-lit backroom of McCormick Motors. Almost midnight, the sky was dark and cloudy, opening up like Hell was about to inhabit the Earth. Atticus casually thought to himself about how the pathetic fallacy of the weather was amusingly accurate when compared with the events that had occurred recently. He expected as much, since what was going on and what was threatening to happen was begging to be laced with dramatics. With his calloused hands tucked away in his pockets and a slight rock in his stance, he gazed out the grimy window through the blinds, over at the yard and waiting for the rest of the men to make their way in for the meeting. He noticed his hot breath, threatening to become uneven, quickly began to fog up the cool window before him slightly. He then inhaled deeply and mentally convinced himself to calm down.

Tonight was not the night to let everything fall out of his hands. Too much was at risk, this he knew as much, but everything was going to fly to Hell in a hand basket if he didn't take action quick. He dragged his sweaty palms through his damp shaggy blonde hair and tugged on the ends. He glanced up at the ceiling and reviewed again how he was going to approach this situation. From the corner of his eye, Atticus spotted Charlie sprinting across the muddy yard from his office in the car garage, trying to shield himself with his arms from the onslaught of rain still coming down. As he observed Charlie enter the clubhouse with a pair of newly arrived men, he also noticed the last of the boys riding in finally. Not long now…

Atticus took a seat at the head of the table with a sigh and took a sip of his cheap beer. He knew that what he was about to do was going to call his loyalties and friendships into question; put them to the ultimate test. But it wasn't like he had a choice. If he didn't make a decision or come up with a proposition soon, everything he has ever really know would fall apart and crumble at his feet in a matter of seconds. And he wasn't going to risk that. So this had to be the only way.

In the distance, a door slammed shut and a swarm of familiar voices were heard. He could then hear the creaking of the old floors as their heavy footfalls grew closer to the large backroom he was currently occupying. Standing straight with a last swipe of his hands on his pants, the two large doors on his right swung open and in entered Charlie with the rest of their friends trailing along behind him.

Standing at a good six feet and lanky as always, Charlie McCormick strode in with a reassuring smile in his direction and took a seat at Atticus' right without a word. He was 20 years of age, like Atticus himself, but still looked like the little boy Atticus first met all those years ago. As Charlie pulled out a greasy rag from his equally greasy overalls to attempt at drying his ginger locks, Atticus took into account the rest of his friends who were filling up the room, talking amongst themselves. He counted four.

He then cleared his throat. "Evenin', boys. Glad you all made it in one piece," he spoke.

Each took a seat casually around the large wooden rectangle table in the dark room, positively drenched, but began to settle in. The man sitting closest to Atticus other than Charlie was Bobby 'Bubba' Smith. Short, round, and decked out in damp leather like the rest of them, he made a loud grunt as he dropped in his seat. Bubba's shoulder length hair hung like straw around his large face that reminded Atticus of a wet dog.

"Yeah, well, seems like Mother Nature wanted to give us another definition of what a shit storm should look like." He grunted again while he readjusted his seat and flicked his hands to rid them of the last remnants of rain still on his skin. "Like we don't already know…"

"Yeah, Attie. Good thing you called this as soon as possible. Another 24 hours and the rest of the boys over in Rose Hill are gunna burn that place to the ground." Bucky Brookes said from the other end of the table. Atticus looked over at his friend. Bucky was leaning over in his seat with his leather-gloved hands folded in front of him. His curly brown hair hung in his green eyes that peered seriously over at Atticus.

"I know", Atticus sighed. "But there's not much that can be done to control a group of crazy young men who don't have someone to set them straight."

"Who would have thought that dickhead Rufus' death could result into this." Jordan Mathers spoke up from his place beside Charlie, who was now quietly listening.

"Aye, the man was a cruel prick but don't disrespect what he did for ya, yeah?" The thick Irish-accent of Talon Erickson suddenly filled the room with its usual dominating quality, silencing Jordan. An immigrant, Talon had next to no money when he came over seas as a young kid during the depression. Orphaned, he lived with his Aunt until he got taken into the 'business'. In other words, at 22, the guy has seen his fair share of misery and turned it into cold hard stone.

Just like the rest of them.

Atticus took what Talon said and let it sink. Rufus did do a lot for them, more than any of them could have really asked for when they were recruited in as prospects; kind of like pledges to a fraternity house but with a hundred times the danger. Hell's Fury Biker Club was the only sanctuary they had offered to them as troubled young boys who had nothing going for them and that was all because Rufus saw something in them that he could use.

Atticus thought back to the time when Rufus found him fighting three grown men in a back alley on Main Street, tossing them around in a fit of rage like it was nothing. He took him in and offered him a world that was, yes dangerous, but surely nothing he couldn't handle and also be rewarded by. At the time, Atticus never realized what he got himself into but even though Rufus treated his men cruelly and ruthlessly, including all of the men before Atticus now, he still gave them the one thing all of them had lost; a family. And that's something none of them could have ever thanked him enough for.

Atticus was snapped back to reality when Charlie finally spoke up. "Tell that to all of his enemies, if you're in the mood to justify. Seems to me like it finally caught up with the asshole and because of that, we all have to pay for it."

"Tell me about it. With the Fury Presidency up for grabs, everyone's at each other's throats." Bobby huffed. He then looked over at Atticus. "So what you got, slick? What's your proposition? Since you and Val were Rufus's right hand men, hopefully you got something good up that sleeve of yours…"

Atticus rubbed the side of his face along his jaw, his fingers pricked by his whiskers, as he started to collect his thoughts accordingly. Then, something clicked and he looked at all of them.

His body straightened instantly. "Hey, where is Val? He should have been here by n-"

Suddenly before any of them could register, the large doors slammed open and in swaggered Valentine—Val for short—Di Santis.

"Speak of ye devil…" Talon said jokingly under his breath. He had a wry grin on his face. "You're late." He then said louder.

Valentine Di Santis was a tall brooding man, with jet black hair and piercing blue eyes that could probably slice you in half if you dared to look long enough. His mouth constantly held a sneer upon it, full of smug confidence. Dripping from the constant downpour outside, his all black clothing clung to him as the smell of wet leather filled the room even more than it already had permeated from all the others.

Peeling his wet bike gloves off, finger by finger, Valentine let his gaze drop around the room to the men occupying it. He had known them all for as long as he cared to remember but never really took care for their friendship. In this business, he felt it was dog-eat-dog and having attachments to associates and members was just a way to show weakness. He knew that to succeed properly, he had to be cold. That's what Rufus taught him at least, and it worked to get him to where he was—how they all did—at such a young age and status in the club.

"I'm not late." He snapped. "Besides, I had other business to attend to. The whole club is going to shit as we speak, if you haven't noticed." As he took in all of their appearances, each entertaining a different look on their face, he came to rest on the one of Charlie.

He grinned devilishly with a rude chuckle. "Hey there, Shirley Temple. You think you got enough grease on you?"

Charlie gave him a pissed off look but didn't acknowledge his comment. He was the kind of guy that could handle himself but didn't like confrontation if it could be avoided. Charlie ran McCormick Motors, whose grounds they currently were on, and is one of the best mechanics in all of Deadwood County. Due to that, he practically lives under cars and bikes and tends to become a little greasy now and then. His skills were part of the reason Rufus recruited him into Hell's Fury. That and that he's extremely loyal. But Val hated that quality because it meant that Charlie was just that much more attached and dedicated to Atticus and the justice of the club. Their bond was something that always infuriated him, partly because he could never really understand it. Two young men, who aren't even blood, and act like they were even more.

Val heard a deep throaty sound coming from the left of him. He cocked his head and saw Atticus giving him a dirty look.

"That's enough, Val. Leave Charlie alone. You've wasted enough time." He noticed him unclench his fists and let them rest on the table, palms fully down. He could still see his dark anger—his secret weapon—bubble in the recesses of his irises. "Now, if you don't mind, let's get down to what we came here for, alright?"

Atticus watched as Val clenched his teeth and gave him a deadly stare for longer than necessary, but eventually made his way to sit in the last empty seat beside Jordan.

Atticus took a deep breath as a deep roll of thunder was heard from outside. "Perfect." He murmured as his anger for Val's carelessness subsided. He then stood up and began to address his friends and important club members with a serious persona.

"Let's get right to it, shall we?" He cleared his throat. "So as the club's best and trusted men, I called this meeting so we can deal with the current events and come up with a solution together. As of almost 48 hours now, our recent president for Hell's Fury and common acquaintance, Rufus King, has been killed by one of his many enemies. It was mostly likely the cartel, if we have to point a finger. They never liked the games Rufus played with him during shipment orders and sooner or later, they would stop being so nice about it."

"Looks like sooner came sooner than we thought…good riddance." Bobby muttered under his breath.

Atticus ignored the comment and continued. "Now, obviously nobody anticipated all this shit blowing up in our faces and the whole club spiraling out of control." Atticus heard Val make a haughty noise and saw Talon pin him with a 'shut-the-hell-up' look. "We all thought that Rufus had at least had some of the loyalties of the club but I guess that isn't the case here."

Bucky snorted. "Sure, expect loyalty from men who he smacked around like pathetic little rag dolls, used them for his own gain, all while never getting his hands truly dirty. We," he gestured to the men sitting at the table, "we did all the hard crap for the guy." This struck a nerve in Bucky, who began to go on a tangent. "Yeah, we all benefitted in different ways eventually, but on our own terms." He vigorously poked at his chest to prove it further. "You can't keep kicking the dog and expect it never to bite you!" His voice was brought down an octave as he spoke again. "Besides, his downfall would have never been the club or us men. His ego was too big to even clear his tracks or watch his back, and look what happened." he sat back in his seat with a thump.

Jordan looked at him and nodded in agreement. "His dying just shows how much everyone in the club hated him, but was too scared of the repercussions to do anything about it. Anyone who questioned him wound up dead. But I guess that threat never bothered his enemies." Jordan stated from his seat.

Val clicked his teeth at the members surrounding the table. "Listen to the lot of you. You hated him because you never could gain his respect. You weren't worth his time." He put his hands out in surrender and shrugged his shoulders. "If you ask me, I learned everything useful about myself from him, and improved on it. That's why the club has more loyalties to me than he ever had."

Val was getting on Atticus' last nerve. He always did and it made his blood pressure spike every time Val acted like no one in the club was worth the title of his 'brother' but only of his 'lackey'. He needed someone who knew him well enough to put him under their thumb long enough for him to wake up to reality and see that their whole lifestyle can't be lived by someone with a superiority complex. Atticus knew then and was reassured, that his next move was the right one.

Bobby, whose stringy hair was beginning to dry and curl, looked at Valentine like he was crazy. "Give me a break, Val. If anything, the club is most loyal to Attie here. Why do you think Rufus preferred him to you, huh?" He questioned. "Because he knew how to gain respect and trust."

Val's face darkened quickly and immensely. Being second to Atticus in his eyes was worse than death. He saw Atticus as a soft, easily weakened, wimp of a man who was too focused on his little bromances and the 'law of the club' than getting shit done. And even when he did, it was only because he has some anger issues. Why Rufus held him in the same esteem as Val baffled and disgusted him. Valentine was nothing like Atticus.

"Rufus preferred a lot of things that reminded him of a woman." He growled the harsh comment towards both Bobby and Atticus.

Attie saw red. "Enough!" Atticus roared and instantly, got silence as an answer as he shot out of his chair and shot daggers from his stare at Val. "The only reason I'm not kicking your sorry ass off of Charlie's lot is because as much as I hate to admit it, you have as much right to be here as the rest of us. But I'm only gunna warn you once; interrupt me one more time and you'll be spitting blood." Atticus' voice was low and deadly, not to mention, promising. The men at the table were stunned and silent as the tension between Val and Atticus seared the air around them.

Val was silent for a long time but when he finally spoke, his voice was very chilly and slow. "Whatever, sport. Hurry this shit up, I've got other things to take care of."

He let out a loud sigh once more and quickly sent Val another warning with his eyes before he began again, this time with less patience. "Everything that's being said can be interpreted differently but I think now is the right time to finally tell you guys what I really called this meeting for."

"G'on, Attie." Talon supported and nodded in his direction.

"I have known you all for the most important parts of my life so far and hold you guys in the highest regards." With the exception of Val, Atticus thought. "So when I say that the brotherhood created in Hell's Fury isn't the way it should be, I hope you all understand what I mean. And that our alliances in the business don't have proper respect for us." He looked at each of them in the eyes and continued when no one moved to say anything. "I'm putting forth a proposition for you. After Rufus' death, it made me realize how dysfunctional the club is and how it needs to be fixed. Set straight. So what I'm saying is, I'm leaving—"

All of the men gasped and began to shoot accusing questions at him, except for Val who shot out of his chair with a weird look on his face.

"What?!"Charlie gasped. "Are you insane, At?! The whole reason why the club has stayed true to its basics and its positions in our business agreements is because of you!"

"Let me finish!" Atticus bellowed at him. They all calmed a bit but still were confused.

"I was saying. I'm leaving…because I'm creating a new club. And my proposition is, if you come with me, and any of the club who are truly loyal to me and my beliefs, we can start again but this time, do it the way it should be done."

Jordan looked at Atticus suspiciously. Val was weirdly very quiet. "Why not just declare presidency rights of Hell's Fury? Why go through the whole risky process of creating a whole other club?"

Atticus expected as such. "Because I don't want to force a presidency on the club, especially in a time like this when everyone wants something different. But more importantly, because it seemed about time for me to do this. Hell's Fury has been too tainted with the reputation Rufus has given it. I want members to want to choose to join my club because they believe my presidency will be fair and just." He looked them all over as they let the proposal sink in. "I've already spoken to suppliers and most of our alliances. They've agreed to follow me if I break off. Their confident that this will succeed as well."

And with that, Atticus let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in. His palms were kind of clammy and the back of his neck was perspiring but he couldn't blame his body for reacting in such foreign ways. This proposition could make or break the entire outcome of his life. He watched as everything he just said sank into their minds and played on their features. From what he saw, he felt that his friendships were stronger that he anticipated and seemed that he took a worthy risk.

He smiled to himself, until he saw Valentine.

Val was staring directly at Atticus with a look of hatred mixed with sick amusement. Still standing out of his seat, a slight smile grazed his face for a brief second as he 'hmphed' and crossed his arms across his chest. They stared at each for what felt like eternity, until Val broke the silence.

"Well, Attie," he mocked. "I gotta hand it to you. Looks like we're not as different as we both hoped."

Atticus was confused. "What are you talking about, Val?" Charlie quipped.

"What I'm talking about is that it seems me and good old Atticus here have both had the same idea in mind." He then looked at Atticus with a smirk etched on his face. "But it's much better than I would have thought. With him willingly stepping away, there's no need to battle it out for presidency rights of Fury." He laughed to himself.

"Why do you think I was late? I was at the club, voicing my same idea and offering my stance as president to those who wanted it so. Like I said, I have many loyalties. The ones that I didn't…well looks like they have a new club now. Saves me from having to smoke out the rats inhumanely." He looked at the men around the table and saw the same shock register in their faces that they had when Atticus voiced his same idea. "Really, Atticus. You made it too easy! But I can't thank you enough. You don't realize how amazing it is to be rid of you and your self-righteous shadow that I've lived in since we were prospects!" He declared, raising his voice. "I mean come on, Atticus. Use your thick head!" He threw his arms in the air, exasperated. "Did you really think there was a chance in hell that I was in any way going to let you step up and have power over me? Face it; I'm always one step ahead!"

Then there was an eerie silence and the breathing in the room became extremely heavy. Each and every single young man had the same ideas running through their minds, but not all of them were on the same page. They were all in sporadic positions in the room, the events of the meeting stirring them completely. Who was sitting, who was standing or even pacing. But Atticus and Valentine didn't move from their standing position on either end of the long table, like two gun slingers itching to take the first shot. Val kept his haughty stance and took deep breaths while Atticus gripped the edge of the table in an iron grip and clenched his jaw.

He knew he had to be rid of Valentine and his selfish ways some way but he never expected him to take Fury for himself and challenge him. In all honestly, he thought maybe in time, Val might just see that the way he is, isn't the right way to be in a brotherhood; a family. That maybe, Val might come to see that Atticus' loyalty and trust in his brothers is what makes him stronger.

But you can't change a person. Not really.

"So be it." Atticus finally whispered. He said it so low and deadly that the people in the room barely heard it. "If this is what you want and how you feel, so be it." He was completely serious.

"Believe me. It is." Val seethed.

"Since it looks like the club is officially divided, the only ones left undecided is you." Atticus spoke in general, as he gestured to his shocked friends around the table without letting his eyes wander from Valentine's for even a moment.

"Let's put it to a vote." Charlie said from his calculated position in his seat.

Atticus nodded in agreement. "Alright. All those in favour to come together and start fresh in a new club, under my presidency, say 'yay'. Those who oppose, say 'nay.'"

Atticus started clockwise around the table and looked at Bobby to begin. At first, it seemed that Bobby might say 'nay', but then he smiled and said, "yay."

"Thank you, Bubba." Atticus returned his smile and moved on to Talon.

"Aye, Atticus. I will follow." He grinned. Attie simply returned it and nodded. Seated next to him, was the other head of the table where Val was, with a slightly hurt look hiding in the confines of his features. But Atticus didn't even give him a first glance—never mind a second one—to register it.

He looked at Jordan hopefully. He has been the most skeptical of all. "What do you say, Mathers?"

Jordan had a torn look on his face. Atticus truly couldn't predict what he was going to say just by looking at him. "Nay," Jordan spoke quietly, not looking Atticus in the eyes.

Everyone looked at him sadly, especially Atticus. "So be it," Atticus said for the third time that night. A member's vote was not to be questioned.

Val chuckled darkly. "Welcome to the ranks, Mathers. You made a good choice; don't worry."

Jordan just simply looked at Valentine and gave him a meek smile but it seemed forced. Not dwelling too much on Jordan's vote, Atticus looked at Bucky, hoping he wouldn't follow suit.

He grinned widely. "Hell to the 'yay', Attie! It's about time you took your rightful place."

"Thanks, Bucky. It means a lot." He smiled. Then he turned to Charlie. This was probably the one vote that Atticus was sweating the most. Charlie McCormick was his best friend and knew him better than his own mother probably did. He couldn't tell if Charlie didn't agree or was upset that Atticus didn't run it by him first. By there was so little time to take action. He hoped Charlie didn't take it the wrong way. His face surely didn't tell him if he did or not.

"Charlie?" Atticus inquired.

Charlie looked up from the table that he was staring at tentatively for the last 5 minutes. He was always thinking before he made major decisions and this most definitely was one. But he didn't need to do much. This was Atticus; his best friend, his brother.

"Yay." Charlie said simply and offered Atticus a genuine smile. "We can even use my shop and this property to start the new clubhouse and grounds. 'Bout time it was all used properly for something," he added. Atticus let out a breath and returned the smile. Then he addressed everyone again.

"Thank you for your votes. I guess it's now settled. Hell's Fury Biker Club operating in the town of Rose Hill, is officially divided. As the previous president Rufus King is dead, and as his successor, one of his co-vices, Val Di Santis will take presidency, as chosen." Atticus paused for affect. "For the other portion of the club who feel differently about the late Rufus and Val's way of handling club business and outside business, I-Atticus Moon, second co-vice, will create a new Club that operates within this town of Bay Beach, therefore declaring presidency. All major affairs with the cartel and other alliances we have made will be handled with equally. In time, each Club will develop their alliance more specifically. Until then, those who are more loyal to whomever, are allowed to establish agreements without disagreements of unfairness. Agreed?"

A chorus of "yes'" were exchanged among the men.

Val didn't look too happy but nonetheless, kept his mouth shut.

"Good. Meeting adjourned." Atticus knocked a gavel twice. As soon as the knocks ran out, Val shot from his chair and gave them all a 'once-over' that said that they were worth no more than a bug under his boot.

"Ha. Don't think that this is settled and nothing will go wrong. Know this now, Atticus; as long as I'm around, there will always be bad blood between Fury and what will be of your pathetic little excuse for a gang." Val was positively shaking with rage. And hate towards Atticus. "I will never stop until I see you and whatever you will work so hard to build in relation to this new club, fall. And fall hard."

Atticus moved from his seat at the opposite side of the table and slowly made his way to stand in front of Valentine. He then straightened his body and peered straight into his icy, heartless, blue eyes.

"I'd like to see you try." He whispered challengingly in a confident voice.

Val narrowed his eyes at Atticus and started to make his way out of the conference room. But as he reached the doors with Jordan silently trailing behind, he stopped and turned around one last time. "I can promise you this, Attie: it won't be anytime soon. No, you see, I think it's much more satisfying to wait until you have so much more to lose, that when I stare into your eyes and take it from you, I can watch you die from the inside out." And with that promise hanging in the air, he turned and left into the rain that calmed down slightly since the beginning of the meeting.

Atticus didn't want to think about what Val had just said. It was too omniscient and frankly, a bit too convincing.

"Hey," Charlie said, coming up beside him suddenly. "Don't let Val's stupid empty threats bother you. He's going to be a problem, yes, but no shit we can't handle together. All of us." He turned Atticus and they both faced the rest of their friends.

"Yeah, mate. We're in this together. A brotherhood who rides together, thrives together." Talon made a corny joke that released some of the tension in the room as they all let out small laughs.

Atticus settled back into his seat as did the rest of them, as he stayed silent to soak in this new status and position, the rest of the men talked amongst them about their first steps to take. This was not going to be an easy task, starting a new club, but overall, Atticus was proud that he took this chance tonight and how the results turned out. He was glad that when his loyalties were tested and put on the scale, the ones that mattered most to him showed their true colours and stuck by him.

Val was going to be a problem, he knew it. He was going to have to be extra strong to deal with the second coming of Rufus himself. There has never been two Biker Club's in the same county, especially not this one, Deadwood County-where Hell's Fury has existed solely by itself for years now without challenge or competition.

But all that's about to change.

"Hey, El Presidente." Bobby broke Atticus from his thoughts.

"Hmm?" Atticus was starting to feel the drain of energy now after his adrenaline has stopped pumping ever since Val left the room.

"We got a question," inquired Bobby.

"Yeah, what did you think of naming this new club? Please tell me it's something good, I'm only going to be a part of it for the rest of my life." Bobby joked. But it was still true. Joining a club was eternal. Once you're in, you never leave. Not until the day that you aren't able to ride anymore. Biker rules.

Atticus had given the club name a lot of thought. He didn't want something cliché like Hell's Fury but something that reflected their roots and their bond together as young men.

"Deadwood Covenant," he stated. "Deadwood Covenant Biker Club."