7

Chapter 616 Aftermath

"

Sack watched helplessly as the accident unfolded and brother after brother swerved, dodged and finally laid his bike down sliding along the pavement. Going down at high speed was dangerous. His military training kicked in and he stayed calm.

He stopped, took off his helmet and parked his bike before running to the van stopped behind him.

"Phil turn on the hazard lights, get out and stop traffic until the guys can clear the highway. Miles, go over the side and check on Tig." Tig had gone flying over the guardrail and down the hill. "I'm going to help Clay."

Sack took off at a run just as an SUV heading straight for Clay jerked from side to side in a desperate attempt to avoid Clay's prone form on the highway. Finally, the driver slammed on the brakes with a great laying down of rubber in the process. The driver looked at the biker down on the highway and the biker who had just knelt down by his side and hesitated. Finally, the SUV pulled off to the side of the road and a trembling young woman got out of the vehicle.

"I didn't hit him," she said softly.

"I know," Sack assured her.

"What can I do to help?"

Sack didn't have an intimidating appearance with his curly blonde hair, slight build and blue eyes. The young woman began to relax.

"Thanks for stopping, but we can handle this."

"OK," she said clearly relieved. She hurried back to her SUV and took off.

Sack quickly checked that Clay was breathing and his heart was beating. He was unconscious, but that was probably for the best. His leg was bent at an unnatural angle the bone sticking through the skin.

Piney came over to help Sack with Clay.

"We need to get him off the highway," Piney said.

"I'm worried about a neck injury. If we move him, he could be paralyzed. We need something to stabilize his neck."

"Phil," Piney shouted, "get a blanket from the van and the duct tape and bring it to me."

Traffic was sparse on the highway, but Phil moved quickly to bring the blanket and duct tape to Piney so he could return to traffic management in case a vehicle came by.

"We'll cut the blanket, roll it and duct tape the ends around his neck," Piney said.

"Good idea," Sack said taking the blanket and using his knife to cut the blanket.

"There's some good in being old," Piney replied.

Working quickly, they got the make-shift neck collar around Clay's neck before carrying him to the grass median. He moaned as they moved him, but his eyes remained closed.

"You think we should call the paramedics?" Sack asked Piney. He was a full patch and in charge until Jax took over.

"Already called them. Also called TM for a flatbed. Don't know how many of the bikes are in any shape to be ridden, but I don't think anyone's in any kind of shape to ride back except us. You watch out for Clay, I'm going to help the others."

"This is bad," Sack said looking up at Piney.

"It's a fucking disaster," Piney corrected. He turned, crossed the median and looked at the stretch of highway littered with downed bikes. It was a bikers' hellscape. Piney shook his head as the magnitude of the scene hit him.

Jax got to his feet, took off his helmet and dropped it to the ground. His leg had a large deep gash that would require stitches and deep scrapes to his arm as he skidded along the pavement. Judging by the pain when he breathed in, he either had bruised or broken ribs. At least he didn't have any major broken bones. He barely noticed the pain thanks to all the adrenaline surging through him.

As he watched his brothers get to their feet, he felt white hot anger over the situation they were in. He looked at the guys and they were all in roughly the same condition, some a little worse and others slightly better but Sack and Piney were the only two riders that had escaped mayhem. Everyone else had gashes, cuts and scrapes and, looking at the odd angle of Happy's arm, at least one broken bone. They had been in gun battles with fewer casualties.

It could be worse. At least there were no gunshot wounds for Chibs to try to treat. Better yet, he didn't have a bullet in his butt or Juice's fingers up his ass. There was always a bright side if you looked hard enough and set the bar low enough.

"Meeting," he yelled. He gestured to Sack to leave Clay and join. He had a few minutes to figure a way out of this for the MC.

"I called the paramedics," Piney told Jax.

"Good. We don't have much time then to get our story straight," Jax said. "This is a disgrace to our charter and we can't let the truth get out. We would be laughingstocks and we would never live this down." In the history of all the Sons, there had never been this kind of motorcycle accident and, making it worse, it was caused by a member riding along with them. Jax was not about to let his club live with this scandal.

At that moment, Miles climbed over the guardrail.

"What the hell were you doing?" Jax asked.

"Checking on Tig?"

"Didn't even see him go over the railing," Jax said. He'd been focused on trying to avoid an accident, not that it did him any good. "Tig OK?"

"He's alive, but I think there's something wrong with his head. He's talking about princesses and princes and some weird shit."

"He's probably just being Tig," Kozik quipped. The guys chuckled.

"OK. Here's the story of what happened. We were riding along when a white pick-up began weaving through and hitting us. That's it. We don't stray beyond that when we talk to the cops. Is that clear?" Jax asked looking at the faces of SAMCRO and Miles. Everyone nodded. It was inevitable they would have to tell the cops something and they needed to make it clear that this terrible accident was not their fault.

"What about the other charters?" Juice asked. "What do we tell them?"

"We tell the other charters the same story only we add that a couple of us chased after the pick-up and dealt with the driver. No names of who took care of the driver or exactly what we did to him. It was just some asshole who wanted to mess with us and he was handled. It needs to be very clear that this was some lone asshole acting on his own and he was not affiliated with any crew or MC. It doesn't go beyond what I've said."

"I'll put that out to the other charters in a couple of hours," Juice said.

"Good. Now, take off your cuts and give them to Miles. Sack yours too. It might be best if we look like just a riding club. Might help us with law enforcement. We're going to the hospital either by ambulance or van and we will have to remove them for treatment and they will be out of our sight. I don't want some asshole hospital employee snagging one as a souvenir. It's the best way to protect them."

"You're right," Opie said backing up Jax. "SAMBerdo had that happen to Travis when he had a bike accident. Bastards stole the cut and they never found the thief or the cut."

"We don't want that happening to us. Quickly. Cuts off and the guns stay with the cuts," Jax said. It was standard for the guys to go on runs armed. Things may be peaceful, but wearing a patch could provoke a violent response sometimes. It was always better to be prepared on a run.

The guys quickly stripped off their cuts and handed them to Miles.

"Lock them in the gun storage locker in the van. I'm going to check on Clay and get his cut. The rest of you help each other to get the bikes off the highway. Once the bikes are on the side of the road, you can move the van to the side and Phil can stop traffic control. Whose idea was that?"

"Mine," Sack said nervously.

"Good work. Now help with the bikes. Happy, you stay put. Your arm looks broken and I don't want you to make it worse."

"I'm fine," Happy protested.

"It's not a request," Jax said, "it's an order." Jax knew that Happy would comply if he made it an order. "You can supervise Miles and the cuts, make sure he doesn't screw up."

"You got it, boss," Happy said giving Miles a hard look, his dark eyes narrowing. Miles began to shake almost imperceptibly. Even with a broken arm, Happy was scary.

"I called TM for the flatbed. Also told them to bring a couple of tarps. Thought we don't want too many eyes on how many bikes we had on the flatbed," Piney said.

"Good thinking, old man," Jax said slapping him on the arm. "Come help me with Clay's cut. I'll be back in a few seconds. Get that son of a bitch Mickey Smith and bring him to me."

Mickey had swerved into Clay sending him into the median and the oncoming traffic lanes, hit Jax and ended up going down about twenty feet away. He was on his feet looking just as battered and injured as the others, but he stayed by his downed bike.

Jax and Piney went over to Clay and carefully removed the cut from the still unconscious president.

"We had to move him from the road. Sack worried about a neck injury, so we improvised the neck collar. He kept his head. Did a good job."

"Yeah, he's becoming a valuable member," Jax said. He looked at the bone protruding from Clay's leg. It reminded him of Tara's injury. "That looks bad."

"I'm guessing surgery to pin the bone back together," Piney said.

"Yeah, he's got surgery and a long road to recovery. This is a fucking shit show," Jax said shaking his head.

"Looks like you might be president for awhile."

"Too soon to give that any thought." Jax was ready to be president but he didn't want it this way because he knew as long as Clay was a member of the MC, he would try to run things.

"I expect to get a lot less lip about riding a trike," Piney said with a twinkle in his eyes.

Jax chuckled and immediately held his ribs.

"You got it. Now, let's go deal with Mickey."

By the time Jax returned to the highway, the bikes had been moved to the side of the road and Mickey Smith was standing in the middle of a very unhappy SAMCRO on the side of the road.