CHAPTER 3
RISE OF THE
DEVIL'S HAND
Light and vision was coming back to me. It felt like a only a moment ago that I had passed out. Before I could open my eyes, I felt the chair I was sitting on rumbling, moving, bumping. It was an odd sensation, made me kinda nauseous. As my hearing was also coming back, I heard two familiar voices talking to each other, one sounded deep, and the other was softer but still kinda rough. They were asking something along the lines of me being okay or something.
My eyelids slowly slid up, and right before me I saw Theresa and Tyrell talking to each other. I could see Theresa brought that shotgun of hers, made me kinda nervous. Just as Theresa noticed me, she smiles.
"Well damn, that was fast." she said.
Tyrell raised his eyebrow, then turned his head towards me. He looked shocked. "Shiiit," he exclaimed "you are one tough bastard."
I looked around me and saw that we were in the back of a van, but not one I'd ever seen. It looked like the back of a FBI agent's or something vehicle. I looked down and saw that I was shirtless, and my shoulder had been bandaged up.
"Where are we…?" I asked groggily.
"We're safe." Tyrell responded. "Safe in the back of an armored, military grade automobile. Nothing's getting through this."
Just then, my shoulder felt numb, and there was this burning pain I couldn't get rid of. It kept digging into me and was just unbearable to stand. I groaned out in pain.
Tyrell saw me in pain and said "The bullet went right through you. Completely missed the collar bone, and thankfully missed your spine. You are one lucky bastard."
"Fuck, man!" I shouted in pain. "I don't feel very lucky!"
"Quit being a baby." said good ol' Mother Theresa.
I look at Theresa quizzically. "Why are you here?"
"I still don't have all the answers I needed. I tried asking this old fart, but he said he'd rather wait for you to wake up. Says he doesn't like to repeat himself."
"Did you really need to bring that shotgun?"
She shrugged. "Just in case." I wasn't sure how to respond.
"Don't worry," said Tyrell "she's not one of them."
"One of...who?" The gears started turning in my head. "Oh, right, the Devil's Claw or whatever. I still have a few questions about that shit." The sharp pain suddenly came back. "FUCK!"
"Ask away." he responded, completely ignoring my cries of pain. The car kept moving slightly forward, inch by inch.
"Okay, first off...where's this car heading?"
"To a very expensive doctor."
"What? Didn't you already patch me up?"
"We did what we could with the medics and short amount of time we had. I figured we'd see someone professional about it."
"Someone professional? Ack!" Now I was just getting annoyed at that burning pain, I just grit my teeth and kept asking, I was too curious to be in pain now. "Wouldn't you want to avoid someone like that? Won't they report shit like this to the police?"
"Nah, he's a black market doctor. He won't rat us out."
"Okay, hold your fucking horses. What is this 'we' and 'us' crap? Do you work for the government or something?"
Tyrell chuckled heartily "Boy, do I look like a narc?"
"How the fuck would I know?"
"Well I ain't. I was in the military a long time ago, but those were my old days. Heh, more like my young days. Nah, the people I'm talking about are my personal band of mercs. They work for me."
Tyrell reaches underneath his seat and grabs a small aluminum box. When he opened it, I expected a ton of grenades to be in there, but it was just a carton of cigars. Cuban maybe. Now hear me out, it's not often you can say this about a man, but the way he lit his cigar looked so badass I couldn't help but notice every little detail. He takes one out carefully, examining his cigar. With a smile on his face, he closes the box and puts it back under his seat. Then he pulls out this fancy shmancy looking knife with a faded color on the blade and cuts off the end, then proceeds to light it up with a golden lighter from his front pocket I didn't even see him grab. It was all so smooth and cool, made me kinda wanna smoke one if it weren't for me being in total pain. Asshole didn't even offer me a cigar.
With two puffs of smoke, he continues "I've grown an underground mercenary service of my own. It first started with soldiers I'd meet on the battlefield, then cops from the local department got in. After that, anyone who came back from The Gulf wanted in. Heh, anyone who comes back from the war always wants some more action. Anyway, you get the point. I run a powerful merc group, and they're helping me help you."
"Alright, well...why help me? What do you get out of this? Are you helping me cuz you knew Jake? Were you two close?"
He exhales a large cloud of smoke, then inhales them back through his nostrils, only to exhale them again. Tyrell responds "Personally, I don't really care much about Jake. He wasn't a very loyal soldier. Now yes, he helped me when I needed help, and vice versa, but once he killed Caesar, he up and left. Never talking to anyone again. I respected that decision. We never spoke much after that." Tyrell knocks off the ashes from the cigar with his finger, which then falls on his shoe. He continues after a moment of silence. "To answer your question, well, I'm doing this because I fucking hate the Devil's Hand. Their plan is to eliminate the Conways, and if that really brings them pleasure, well then I'm not going to give it to them. They're gonna have to fight through me."
"About them, the Devil's Hand? You said Jake beat them, killed off half their crew, destroyed their most powerful members? How is it they're still around then?"
Just then the truck violently came to a halt and threw almost all of us to the other side of the car. Theresa was on the floor, I was writhing in pain because of the sudden movement, and Tyrell was pissed. He angrily stood up and slammed the car wall.
"Drive carefully, dipshits! We got an injured person here!" mumbling came through the other side. "Fuck your traffic jam! Just take it easy! Goddamn…" Tyrell sat back down and cleared his throat. He was staring right at his cigar, which was on the floor. He grabs it "Fucking dropped my cigar...goddamn expensive."
"Tyrell!" I said, louder than I anticipated. I was in too much pain to care.
"Oh, right." Tyrell adjusts himself whilst Theresa sits back down. Nobody really noticed her fall. "Well, to be honest, we don't even know. The Devil's Hand was done, it was wiped off the face of the Earth thanks to Jake, but somehow there were small whispers going around town. Things like 'the devil's hand is going to Texas' and 'the devil's hand's got a new leader'. I was worried. I didn't think it was true, it was just something to scare the locals probably. Some Scooby Doo shit or somethin'. But no, it wasn't that at all. It was all true."
"Yeah, no shit Sherlock."
"Watch your tone, mother fucker." A sudden change in Tyrell's voice. "I saved your life and I'm answering your questions, don't make me regret it, punk." He was still probably mad about the car stopping so hard.
"Sorry, man. Just...I got shot, and now my life's in danger. This shit is way too much to take in."
"Right…" Tyrell said, sounding unsure if I was being sincere or not.
I wanted to break out of the awkwardness. "So, who's the leader?"
"We don't know. Just some guy who showed up from nowhere and took the helm. We checked everyone who was in the Devil's Hand, but we never found anyone who could possibly take on the position. Well, anyone alive at least. That just means the new leader has to be someone from outside the gang, or at the very least be related to Caesar in some way."
"Did Caesar have any relatives?"
"A daughter. Jake's wife. Mikey's girl."
"Fuck, well….shit."
"I know, that's some crazy shit." Tyrell reached under his chair again, this time he grabbed a bag of chips, opened them, and began eating them. Fucker still didn't offer me any.
"Man, this is getting nuts." Theresa said out of nowhere. "Keep going, this whole thing is like something out of a soap opera."
"Speaking of Jake" I added, ignoring Theresa's stupid shit "how is it you guys were able to find me? I'm his son, right? What proof do you have that I'm his son?"
"Well-"
"Wait." I cut off Tyrell "You said there were multiple Conways?"
"Yep."
"Holy shit, are you saying Jake fucked and impregnated other women other than my mom?"
"A ton."
"Piece of fucking shit…and so how were you able to find me?"
Tyrell reached into his pocket and handed me a folded piece of paper. "Read it." he said "That's a list of all the known Conway kids so far. It's the same list the Devil's Hand has."
"How is it the Devil's Hand has this list?" I asked as I read through the names. Donald, Rudolph, Joseph, Austin, Jermaine, et cetera. A few feminine names there too, like Ashley and Crystal. Next to some of the names was a red mark, I felt that didn't mean anything good.
Tyrell rubbed his beard. "We have an idea, but it ain't a very pretty one. It's about Jake."
I scoffed "Of course it is. Go ahead, tell me. What, are you afraid of making Jake look bad? He's the scum produced by scum, I don't think you could make me think any less of him."
Tyrell sighed. "See, after the feud between Conway and Caesar, Jake somehow managed to accumulate a large sum of money. Where he got it we have no idea, some local rumors went around town for a bit along with the Devil's Hand rumors. Some people said he took over the Devil's Hand, others said he was a part of an underground racing ring that paid large, but was an illegal blood sport, and a few of the crazies said he did voodoo magic to materialize dollar bills. Or that he just won the lottery. We're not really certain, maybe it's all of the above. Well, except for the voodoo crap."
"Okay, but what does this have to do with this?" I said as I waved around the list.
"You see, after he got the money and lived out his days, he started paying the sluts he slept with to be quiet...no offense."
"Just keep talking." I said, gritting my teeth
"Conway wanted nothing to do with his past, so he paid off the young ladies to shut their mouths, take care of the kids without him, and never mention his past again. Conway wanted a better life. A happier life. He wanted to stay quiet if and ever the Devil's Hand, or some other bike gang came and terrorized his family. He's been paying these debts for years."
I took another look at the list. Sure were a lot of names in there now that I thought about it. "And how do you know this?"
"Jake told me himself."
"I see...but I thought you two weren't that close."
"We ain't. But he was still my brother in arms, I couldn't deny his calls when he had those flashbacks being in the war...and sometimes flashbacks of his biker days." Tyrell said somberly. "He told me one of his most recurring dream was of him watching his brother getting his throat cut open. He said it'd be in third person, and that no matter how much he'd try and stop it, he could never do anything about it."
The air grew silent, Theresa sat there eyes focused to the ground, looking sad. Looking lost. I had no sympathy for Jake before, but hearing all this from Tyrell, it made me feel something for him. I wasn't sure if it was sympathy, or empathy, or just nothing at all. This was the man who abandoned my mom, who left us alone, who forced my mother to date several other guys that made her feel lower than shit. The money was always a mystery to me, she'd struggle to find a job, yet somehow we were able to afford an apartment, even if it was small and cold. It was warm enough, but it felt empty at times. Those awkward nights where my mother and I shared the table to eat, both of us saying nothing but understanding, truly understanding what the other was thinking. Why couldn't we live luxuriously? What made us different? Why did we need to steal sometimes? Why do all these men hate her, and why does she keep running back to them? Why didn't I have a father to love me?
As I remembered this I realized I truly did not feel much for Jake. What he was doing was selfish. He wasn't helping the single mothers he abandoned, he made them single mothers to begin with. He payed them off to shut their mouths, he payed them to be good little slaves and to never come close to him again. It wasn't enough though. It wasn't enough, Jake. We were all still cold, so very cold, and hungry, oh so very hungry. Jake abandoned us, he saw us as nothing more than a hinderance, a tax payment, a deposit with no option to withdraw. I gripped the list tighter, crumpling it. The noise made Tyrell look up at me, seeing me twist the paper up. He didn't stop me, I think he understood my emotions towards Jake.
"So now what?" I asked, "How are you guys planning on destroying a powerful gang as the Devil's Hand?"
He smirked, "We're pretty strong too, ya know. But you're right, they're strong, fierce, brutal, and organized. The Devil's Hand has 9 different divisions called the '9 circles of hell'."
I chuckled "Very original."
"Laugh all you want, this shit is serious. As serious as that gunshot wound you've got right now."
My chuckle stopped as soon as he mentioned that. What an asshole.
"They have 9 circles," he continued "9th circle is Limbo, which is both Canada and Mexico. Territories the Devil's Hand can't completely control, but they do smuggle drugs and other illegal accessories through hidden trading channels."
"Even from Canada? What illegal stuff can you get from there?"
"A ton of shit. I won't even be able to talk about half of them."
"Well alright...so the next is Lust, right?"
"Er...right. How'd you know?"
"Bro, I read Dante's Inferno."
"I see…" I could see he's never read it before either. It's possible this was the first time he's ever heard of the book. "Yeah," he continued "Lust is next. That's where we're at. That ring covers New York, Florida, North Cal, and Washington."
"Sounds like a big ring, wouldn't they be the most powerful ones?"
"No, all the power belongs to the master, Beelzebub himself. The first ring, which is Texas, is Treachery. That's the one ring that rules them all."
"You'd think a big ring like that would have the most power." Said Theresa who had been quiet this entire time.
"Yeah, you would. But it ain't about how much space they own, it's about how much money they make. Being that the 8th ring is the largest, their leader can't be at all places at once."
"Leader?" I asked.
"Every ring has a leader, a prince as they're called. Every one of them has a job, help the rings next to them. For example, the 6th ring, Gluttony, not only has domain over his own personal hell, but he also aids the 7th and 5th ring also. This system makes sure none of them have total control, except for the first ring, who only helps himself and reaps off the profit the other rings make. He judges who stays the prince, or who gets kicked out. He's the one with total control."
"You said you don't know who the leader is," said Theresa "what makes you so sure it's a guy?"
"C'mon now, little lady. This is a biker gang. They treat all women like property, like they're worthless. Women in biker gangs only serve one purpose, and that's to fuck their man." Theresa gives a mean glare. Tyrell just shrugs, "It's just how it goes, ma'am."
"Do you at least have a hint as to what this guy's name is?"
Tyrell focuses on me again. "They call him Asmodeus, the King of Demons. It's an alias of course, but that's all we could get out about him."
"You couldn't find any other info?"
"Apparently nobody within the gang knows who he is either, not even the 7 princes can take a guess. With this in mind, Asmodeus moves around freely, and is most likely not restrained to Texas. He's probably in New York right now, or could just be somewhere in Oregon. He could be anywhere, and we wouldn't even know it."
I gulped. Damn that's kinda scary. Fuck it, it's horrifying! It would make anyone paranoid, to know that your worse enemy could be lurking within the same crowd as you, or he could be several thousands of miles away. How would you know? They know you, but you could never find out who they were before they've already gutted you. Fuck, Jake. What exactly did you get me into? I never asked for any of this, why did you always make life so fucking hard, Jake?
The car stopped, and a knocking could be heard from the other side. "We're coming!" yelled Tyrell so loudly that it startled Theresa, who was right there besides him.
"C'mon, Rey. Put your shirt on, we're about to meet your half-brother."
My eyes widened as he stood up and was about ready to leave the armored car. "Wait, the fucking doctor is my half brother!? He's a Conway!?"
Tyrell halted in his tracks. "Shit, forgot to mention that. When you're my age, you tend to forget important shit like that."
"Fuck...well, what's his name?"
He turned around slowly and looked me in the eyes. "His name is Mikey."
