The Warriors Movie Site Forum

hey guys this is a new fanfic i have been working on for a while, i have a question to ask, in the actual fic can you swear or do you have to write it as such:

F@ck

I ask just in case i break a few rules and all and i dont want to cause any annoyances on the forum thanks, heres the first lil bit of my chapter

The Fall of the Highwaymen
Chapter 1
Five points Charter of the Highwaymen
President: Heft – 29, Leader of the Biker gang, wise and feared leader
Vice President: Jace – 27, Second in command, loyal to Heft
Secretary: Bow – Book keeper, arranges meetings and transactions, basic scout, 47, Advisor to Heft
Road Captain: Al – Leads troop in Presidents stead, 25, ambitious
Sergeant at Arms: Ripper – 22, Body guard to the president, handles club security, loyal to Heft
Treasurer: Tomb – 31, Handles money affairs for the club
Members: Oak - 21, Rix - 20, Russ - 26
Prospect: Dean - 19

“Have we got it all there Detective?” Officer Donovan asked.
Interrupted from his reading of the list of the legendary Highwaymen list of fugitives Detective Sullivan twisted in his chair and was wide awake.
“Yeah most of everything Donovan,” Sullivan replied and drank his now cold coffee. “It’s just we don’t have anything on that Prospect kid Dean?”
“Somehow that kid got away free, escaped somehow.” Donovan muttered and light up a cigarette and puffed on it.
“What he must be twenty four by now?”
“Yeah five years since we filed that report, hard to believe what happened.”
“I’ll run through the database see what i can find.”

“No point, they are all gone, focus on today’s troubles we got some punk kid in our cell right now from last night, god damn these kids.”
“Yeah i hear you, hey aint that kid the one who kicked you in the station last night?”
Donovan burrowed his eyebrows and turned to the cells and a malicious smile stretched along his face.

“I’ll go see him now, any way have fun sir.” Donovan mused and swung his nightstick back and fore playfully and strolled down to the cells.
“You too, try not to bust him up too badly.”

Five years ago.

New York City, Belmont, 1974 July 13th
The night is quiet, the moon silhouettes the skyscrapers above them, casting their long shadows upon the city plains, thankfully the lamp posts offer enough light through the pit of darkness.

At a lone gas station a Dean, a nineteen years old man pumps up his bikes engine, he whistles a tune and runs a hand through his black spiky hair.
Finishing up he strolled inside the gas station to pay for his gas, he took out some spare change and paid at the desk, the radio was on and its blasts of music screamed through the store.

“Seven dollars and fifty two cents.” The store clerk muttered without glancing up at Dean.
“Excuse me brother I think that’s a little steep.” Dean retorted in surprise.
The store clerk raised his eyes to the young man, they swivelled up looking over the man’s jeans, to his white t shirt, dark brown leather jacket with insignias over the arms and shoulders and then to the tattoo that was visible on the man’s chest, just between the neck and the collar bones, the tattoo was of a skull with a greaser cap on with the letters Highwayman in small writing over it, some of the Tattoo was covered by the t shirt however the Highwayman writing was clearly visible.

“Shit sorry sir it’s on the house!” The clerk mumbled and fell back away from Dean.
Dean shrugged and turned away, the Highwaymen were a biker gang that owned Belmont, it was their turf and they were proud of it, even though Dean was a rookie or more commonly known Prospect he was treated like a full time member.
To become a full patch member a prospect would first have to have the tattoo with the words Highwaymen, Dean had had that done two weeks ago and know all that waited was for the Patch.

The Patch worked the same way as a medal, if a prospect proved himself he would be given a patch saying MC, it would be stitched on his jacket, his colours as some gangs called it and he would be known as a active member of the club.
Revving up his engine he heard the roars of his beast cry out through the silence, the stars hid away from its piercing cry.

The wheels spin, the beast roars louder and louder and finally the road in front of him dries away behind him, the city lights hit him, all the stores, the cars, he drives past them all.
People glare at him with a mixed view of fear, disapproval and respect, he basks in it, he doesn’t ask yet he knows no one will stand in his way.
After a ten minute journey he arrived at the club house, an old Ware house Heft’s father bought, it use to look dead, broken windows, holes in the walls, the front door had been torn off the hinges, it was a crack house den until the Highwaymen moved in, that was back in the 1950’s, almost 30 years later the second generation of Highwaymen still kept the old fort strong.

“Hey Prospect where you been?” Came a stringed voice from behind him.
He turned to see the six foot one Secretary of the Highwaymen Bow, the oldest living biker, he use to be Road Captain to Heft’s father, however age bridled the man, made him weak, lose his animalistic and relentless rage which a Road Captain needed.
If a Road captain couldn’t sustain a healthy balance of temper and tolerance he would have to be de classed, a Road captain is a leader but also the trigger, he needs to know when to delve into his rage and when to apply logic, and of course follow every word of the President.

“Went to get Petrol and see Sand.” Dean replied with a modest grin, and the two men embraced each other as brothers.
“You and that girl getting serious any time soon?” Bow inquired and pushed Dean away from him.
“As it happens we have had plans on moving in soon old man.”
“Cheeky git, hey i may be old but i can still run a girl around the four corners if you know what i mean.”
Dean laughed out loud and playfully punched Bow on the arm, “sick old bastard.” He laughed and shook his head.
“Anyway Heft has called a meeting, all members, he wants everyone in on this, come on kid watch the old man at work.” Bow exclaimed and shoulder barged Dean inside the club.
“What’s it all about anyway Bow?” Dean asked ponderously.
Bow shook his grey matted hair, as he twisted his neck back and fore Dean noticed the stitches on the man’s neck, a brutal legend enticed those stitches and it was neither one Bow nor anyone else at the club talked about.
“You know we have had problems with those Satan Mothers and those high and mighty Riffs.” Bow explained.

“Yeah?”
“I’ll explain it to you Prospect at the meeting.” Came the deep voice of the President Heft, Dean turned and hung his head in shame, he could hear Bow laughing behind him.
As Heft turned away Dean turned to Bow with an exceptive smirk on his face, “shut it you.”

The Counsel room as Heft called it was where all the meetings took place, as always the Sergeant at Arms held the keys to the room, there stood the man himself Ripper.
Ripper was known as a intolerant twenty two year old man, he could keep his cool when needed however could relent a wild blood thirsty fury on anyone who defied him or the Club.
“How’s it going Bow? Prospect?” Ripper asked with a sharp glance at Dean.
“We are doing fine Rip, gonna let us in?” Bow asked firmly, there was a tight sense of tension between the two men, it was true and very well known the old man and the young Sergeant at Arms were two very different men however each of their positions tied close, they never spoke of their contempt with each other however Bow thought Ripper was a reckless youth, a loose cannon ready to explode and Rip thought Bow was a old man who didn’t know his place in the club anymore and would have to either get with the times or find something better to do.
Ripper smile maliciously and nodded, he pushed the two doors open and bowed in entrance for Bow, Dean wondered at this, he was obviously insulting Bow and was care free about it however Bow let the young man ridicule him, however Dean knew in the mind of the old man he knew a lot more than he was told and was a valuable asset and Counsellor to the Club.

“Thank You Sarge.” Bow muttered and he sat down next to the President on the big round table.
Dean took his place with all the other members and Prospects standing around the table.
They all fell quiet, Ripper at the door started to whistle a low tune, apart from everyone else only he did this, it wasn’t out of arrogance, that was at least how Dean saw it, he was merely bored and was breaking the mood, one of the few good aspects about Rip, he wasn’t afraid to push boundaries.

“Last night me and the Riff leader Cyrus declared a truce.” Heft muttered quietly, all the room fell dead even Rip held his tongue. “We don’t do any more hits on Mother’s ground and the Mother’s will leave us be, i agreed to this for the good of the club, what it means is no more drug trafficking through Sheepshead bay Brooklyn herself.”
The Club took a few moments to take all the information in, Dean glanced from Bow to Heft, Bow was in deep thought and Heft was gliding his eyes around the room catching every man’s face, he glanced at Dean and held eye contact for a moment, the two men betrayed no emotion.

“We will have to contact our buyers in Brooklyn.” Bow exclaimed and turned to Heft.
“We will sort something out with the Saracens they may be able to traffic some of our stuff.” Heft said and patted the old man on the shoulder.
Just then the Vice President Jace spoke out of turn, he leant forward on the table, letting his brown hair that had been combed over fall helplessly over his ear.
“The Saracens have close ties to the Riffs, we ask them for help there is a risk we go down ourselves.” He explained and fell back letting his words sink into the ears of everyone around him.

Heft nodded and turned to Dean, the shards of red in his black eyes flashed and he grinned. “What does the prospect think?” He asked and everyone turned to Dean.
Dean gulped and glanced at Bow who nodded gently, clearing his throat he said, “Um ... we don’t have to use the Saracens but we can go lone wolf to transport the gear.”
Lone wolf was a expression for a lone biker, the term Lone wolf came famous from the Highwaymen themselves with their old and not forgotten member Wolf, one of the first elite, he had died many years when Heft was a teenager, he had been shot down by a rival gang called the George’s, the Highwaymen saw to it they didn’t get the chance to brag over their kill.
Heft smiled a little, Bow and Jace nodded approvingly to the President, Heft glanced at Jace and laughed a little, much of the Club now laughed a little but stopped when Heft stopped.

“See why I couldn’t think of that, hell even the Prospect is catching up.” Heft sniggered and turned to the Club Treasurer Tomb, Tomb was 31 years old and a sufficient member to the club, when he wasn’t counting money he was taking names, he was a stern man, rarely talked however concealed a wealth of knowledge and sense in his brain. “What do you think Tomb?”
Tomb turned from Dean to Heft and nodded slowly, “the Saracens will ask for a cut in the business, after our war with the Mother’s we are running low on expenses, the Prospect is right however can we risk any one of our boys getting caught by the Mother’s, then the war starts again, we have two choices, stop dealing entirely in Brooklyn or go Lone wolf and have one of our men gunned down.”
Heft nodded dutifully and stroked his chin, it had been closely shaved the morning before and already he could feel the bristles of the hairs growing back.

“Business is business, but we will put it to a vote.” Heft sighed and slammed a hand on the table to grasp the attention of the club. “All those for cutting off business with Brooklyn raise your hands.”
The room was even more quieter now, a few hands went up including Bow and Tomb, both received a malicious glare from Heft, Bow returning it with his calm and relaxed stare and Tomb with his stern impassive glare.
“All those for Lone wolf?”
The rest of the club raised their hands, the judgement was obvious, Dean could see Bow shake his head, Dean turned to Rip who was smiling broadly and glaring at Bow.
“For once the Prospects are actually good for something.” Heft chuckled and slammed his little Judge hammer down on the table and the meeting was adjourned.

Nice, I like. I like how you've picked this gang up: I think you've described the gang well and established the situation they are in pretty nicely. I'm interested to see what happens now regarding their drugs deals, and I can't help but wonder if the Riffs/Satan's Mothers/Saracens are going to be involved in some way.

I also like how you started the story, with it being 5 years ahead of the main story. It sounds like all the members except Dean get arrested, so I'm interested to see what happens regarding that. It's a nice start man, keep it up!

And to answer your question in the first post: I don't really think anybody cares about the language. Maybe just give the readers a heads-up at the start of any chapter that involves excessive swearing.

thanks man i appreciate your review, and just for you i made a quite clear reference to the warriors film itself right at the start if you look carefully anyway heres the second chapter hope u enjoy

Chapter 1 Part 2

Belmont, 1974 July 14th

Dean woke up to the roars of motorcycle engines from outside, in his flat apartment room the curtains had been closed however there was a gap in between the drapes where the beams of the sun glared down on his bed.

“Man do those boys ever sleep?” He asked himself and fell back onto the pillow.
He took a deep breath and sighed, he could feel the quakes and tremors shake his body, it was hot for summer, and even though he was in full nude he was still sweating quite a bit.

He turned to his side where he expected to see Sand, his old lady but better known as his girlfriend should be sleeping, however the bed was vacant except for him.

He rose from his bed, letting the drapes fall from his body, he stretched his arms, the Flat was dead quiet, he expected a Radio or something to be on however the Radio was off, switching it on Dean headed for a Shower, the question of where Sand was buzzed sharply in his mind, it was too early for these sort of questions he mused.

Ten minutes later stepping from the shower, his body dripped in water, left damp marks wherever he stepped, grasping a towel he dried his body, entering his bedroom he dropped the towel over a radiator and burrowed through his closets, his ear pricking at every word from the Radio.


“It seems like the Saracens are broadening their sights, taking on a new face gang the Jones street boys, they are gonna have their work cut out for them, real smooth.” The Radio’s DJ said, her jazz voice was soft and impassive. “And big news from Belmont, those infamous men from the Highway made a truce with those Gramercy high rollers, it seems the spat with those Sheepshead Mothers may be over, but as well know brothers words can be broken.”

Dean pulling his leather jacket over his shoulders glared at the Radio in deep thought, ah what would that broad know? Dean thought and headed outside.

“There he is.” Came the rough bark voice of the Sergeant at Arms Ripper, he looked a little beat and had a few marks on his neck.

“Morning sunshine.” The man next to Ripper said, the man was 6 foot four a true giant, he over stood Rip and Dean, wore a sleeveless jacket, brown short hair that had been gelled back, he attired a stubble around his chin and sideburns, his name was Oak, a big guy with not a lot of brains but a lot of muscle and a lot of impotence for those around him.

“Morning to you to guys, what jobs we got then?” Dean asked as he yawned, stretching his muscles out feeling the jacket tighten and the muscles stretched.
“Heft wants us to head over the shops and collect the rackets, first however we go to the Chop Shop, get the gear.” Ripper explained and light up a cigarette. “You want one Oak?”

Oak shook his head and revved up his bike engine, “i don’t touch that stuff, you know that?” He explained with a nod to Dean.

“A biker who doesn’t smoke, doesn’t do drugs and doesn’t drink aint much of a biker brother.” Ripper muttered as he light his cigarette.

“I use to be all about that Rip but im older now i got responsibilities.” It was true, Oak use to be one of the wildest of the gang, in his first week of being a prospect he got wasted five times, won three rounds of street fights against the Turnbulls, every night he would get smashed however since he and his girl friend met he promised himself to quit, Dean and a few others in the Club knew the real reason as Oak’s mother died of a drug overdose a year ago.

“Come on ladies let’s ride, before we break into song or some shit.” Rip muttered and revved his own engine and the three Highwaymen drove down the road.

Over the few hours they stopped at shops and clubs, taking the money owed for the Shops protection, a few of the owners thought they could be clever and underpayed the Highwaymen, however Dean knew the older wiser men who had been under Highwayman control forever would know not to upset their protectors.

“What do you mean your a little low on cash Esquela?” Rip roared at one unfortunate Store clerk, he was a Mexican man and he owned the bookies, he had moved in to the scene a few months ago and had been paying Protection money for three weeks now.

“Exactly what i meant esi i have no money to give.” Esquela muttered and turned away from the men to serve another customer.
“Fuck that!” Rip snapped and nodded to Oak, Rip then grabbed Esquela by the shirt and slammed him on the desk, Oak strolled round the desk to make sure none of his staff would try to help him.

Instinctively Dean waited at the door to keep a eye out, Rip was indulging into a mad moment of his, he was applying pressure on the back of the head, pressing the Mexicans face into the desk.

“If business is so bad why have you bought yourself a new Desk eh?” Rip asked, spitting at the back of the man’s neck. “Why is it every time we pass your store is full? This is a warning, next time you try a little stunt like this and we, the Highwaymen will make sure you have nothing to feed that little fucking mouth of yours.”

Rip opened the cash register and took out every last dime of cash the Mexican had been trying to hide, they left the shops then as too much hassle would bring the feds, however who in this neighbourhood would be stupid enough tom call the feds.

“Do you think that Mexican will call some hombres of his?” Oak asked calmly to Rip.

Softly and calmly Rip loosened his tongue and turned to Oak and replied, “probably will, that fucker has contacts with those Hurricanes, seeing s the Riffs and the Mothers want a war with us they would be all the merrier to help their brother in arms.”

The three men fell quiet then, it was the one thought all of them didn’t want to think about, and they knew it was inevitable but prayed that it wouldn’t come true, could the Highwaymen break?

“We can’t give any more incentive to those fuckers, Heft knows it and so do the Riffs,” Dean explained as the three men pulled down outside a local bar. “Rip has the Highwaymen ever faced these kind of problems?”

“Not to my knowledge, i know ever since our war with the George’s and the Gangsters, hell it was Heft’s father who started this outfit and now his son Heft is president, there must be a reason we have stayed this long.” Rip exclaimed as he chained his bike up.
“Times change brother, New York has gone bad for our kind.” Oak muttered.

“I hear that, come on guys let’s get a drink im thirsty as fuck.” Dean said and the three men entered the Bar.

As soon as they entered the bar the moss smell of booze and smoke flared at their nostrils, the bar was vaguely empty however there were five men at the bar each one drinking endlessly, they all bore the Satan Mothers colours.

“Sons of bitches!” Rip cried and ran forward, grabbing one of the wooden chairs along the way he sent it down smashing on one of the Mothers heads.

“You Highwaymen are dead, bring it mother fuckers!” One of the Mothers shouted and the four men jumped Rip.

Without a moments hesitation Oak and Dean rushed to help Rip, Dean passing a Snooker table grabbed one of the cues and like a baseball bat sent it swinging into the back of one of the Mothers.

“Your gonna pay for that you little shit.” The Mother cursed and the two men grappled.

Oak ran straight at the three men, he shoulder barged one out of his way and sent a powerful uppercut to another, he turned to assist Rip however to find the man with his teeth dripped in blood and a chunk of the Mothers neck covered in a black and red swarm of blood.

Taking no time to take not of his surroundings Dean sent a quick jab to the face of his attacker however the Mother quickly dodged it and sent his own powerful jab into the gut of Dean, falling back Dean let the Mother send a powerful kick to the side of his head.

Oak and Rip were now clashing at the remaining men at the bar, Oak elbowed one of them in the face and grabbed the man and chucked him over the bar, Rip had grasped the hairs of the mans head and sent his face smashing against the bar, again and again and again till there was a dent in the table.
Dean got to his feet slowly as the man sent another volley on punches, Dean successfully blocked some of them however he was getting weak and his muscles strained.

Stepping forward he sent a quick jab to the mans gut which he blocked, expecting this Dean then collided his forehead with the mans nose, falling back the man clutched his now broken noise, taking his chances Dean sent a powerful left, right and then a final wild right Haymaker to the mans head.

The Mother swung to the floor defeated along with the other Mothers, the three triumphant Highwaymen stared at each other in disbelief, Oak glared at Rip then at the Mother at his feet, blood flowed from the dent of the Bar table and the from the skulls of the Mothers, they all knew this would be the incentive that was needed to cause another war.

Chapter 2

Belmont, Highwaymen club house July 17th

Heft swigged his beer, feeling the drink drip down his throat and loose itself in his body, his mind throbbed, his eyes were queasy, the rest of the club were drinking, having a party with cards, girls and drugs.

There were only three people other than him who were not entirely drunk, they were his Vice President Jace who was playing cards with Bow the Secretary and Dean the Prospect.
Heft narrowed his brown eyes on Dean, the kid was good at what he did which was fixing bikes and fighting.

He proved to be a valuable soldier and scout when needed, his judgement qualified near to Bow, at the moment Dean was drinking his beer solemnly.

Heft lifted himself up from the table and strolled over to Bow and Jace and sat on Jace’s left, placing his beer on the table the two men looked towards their leader.

Bow watched Heft slightly squint towards Jace and whispered something into his ear, immediately without a word Jace stood up and walked over to the bar next to Dean.

Dean finished his beer and twisted in his seat as Jace clapped his hand on his shoulder, Dean smiled embarrassingly.

“Where did you and Rip go the other day?” Jace asked sternly.

“Just around the shops getting the gear and stash why?” Dean answered quickly, Jace grimaced, and that sentence sounded like it was repeated and revised.

“It’s just that the Mothers have been raiding our stores young blood, Rip is meant to be head of security, so where is he?” Jace inquired.

“I don’t know man we were at the bar and that was when I saw him last.”

“The Bar!” Jace gasped. “A couple of Mothers got beaten up at a Bar in our control the other day would you know any thing about that?”

“No, no of course not!”

“Dean, for the good of the club we need to know, so grow a dick, we need to know the truth.”

Dean combed his hair with his fingers and sighed, he shook his head and dragged his eyes away from Jace’s and looked to the floor. “Me, Oak and Rip ran into a couple of Mothers at our bar trying to settle in, so we wasted them, Rip went home after and me and Oak haven’t seen him at all.” He explained.

Jace nodded and patted Dean on the shoulder, “I want you to go to the garage Dean, start up your bike then you go to Rip’s flat and drag his ass over here do you understand.”

Dean nodded and left his seat and quickly went out the door. Jace shook his head and went back to the table and relayed the news to the others.

“Goddamn it, that Rip was always a loose cannon.” Bow muttered.
“I know but after the death of Wold he was the best option for Sergeant at arms.” Heft retaliated with a cold look to Bow.
“I know you don’t like my judgment of Rip, but the kid might have just cost us the war.” Bow said.

“This isn’t a war just yet Bow, if it was the Mother’s blood would cover Sheepshead Bay, I made a truce with the Riffs.” Heft explained and chucked down the remains of his beer down his throat. “Rip has cost me time, we have to move soon, we will take back the Bronx and Brooklyn.”

“Are you sure that it wise?” Jace cut in. “The Mothers and the Riffs have many allies as it is, both of them have their numbers, we are outnumbered, five to one exactly.”

Heft didn’t seem to acknowledge the seriousness of that last part, instead he light up another cigarette and blew away the smoke and turned to his Vice President. “We will make a meeting with the White Hand and the Saracens.”

Bow and Jace seemed shaken by that comment, “we can’t trust the Saracens man, they are allied with the Riffs!” Bow cried and slammed his hand on the table.

“That wont matter, they will back us up with the Mothers the Saracens have no dealing with the Mothers, the White hand however outnumber the Mothers and the Riffs.”

At this Jace laughed out loud and shook his head to his leader, “You can trust them Irish tools, I heard they lost ground with those Punks in the Bowery, Heft listen to me now, the best thing I can come up with is to leave the city, full stop.” He exclaimed.

It was Heft’s turn to be in shock now, his face turned to Jace defiantly, his face had contorted, a mean side of heft grimaced at Jace, Jace felt uncomfortably being so close to Heft’s reach.

“My Grandfather built this club after he returned from the War, my father when put against the mafia families didn’t run away, do you remember his heart attack Jace, do you?” He asked with a glance to Bow.

Bow nodded sternly, and wiped his face, the memory was not a pleasant one, the old man had collapsed after returning from a victory on a Court meeting, had collapsed on the stairs, his heart split through his internal cords and had stopped, with his last breath he had said, Ride on Highwaymen, into the unknown, be it death or life.

“My old man never backed down from a fight, neither shall i!” Heft defied, his word was law, no one dared to defy his order except for his father’s best friend, Bow.

“Son please listen to reason, its true New York has changed for the Bikers, for the good of the club son.” Bow muttered.

Belmont, Rip’s flat

Dean knocked and bussed on the intercom, come on Rip answer Dean nagged and kicked on the door.

“Oi Dean is that you boy?” Came a very recognisable voice from behind him, it was a thick Irish accent and it belonged to his girl friends brother, Tag.

“Tag what is shaking brother?” Dean asked turning to Tag, as he turned to though his face collided with Tag’s fist.

Dean fell back against the door, under the weight of Dean and the power of Tag’s punch the door came off its hinges and fell to the floor.

“Jesus Tag what are you doing?” Dean cried and rushed to stand back up but was met by another punch to his ribs.

“What the fuck have you done to my sister ya bastard!”

“Nothing, I haven’t seen her for days, I tried ringing her friends to see where she was I thought she took off?”
Not listening Tag stamped down hard on Dean’s hand, and pressed it hard against the floor, wriggling like a fish Dean tried to regain his hand, the pain bearing too much he screamed out.

“You fucking bikers are all the same, I warned her about you!” tag roared and kicked Dean across the face, releasing the pressure entirely on Dean’s hand.

Feeling the blood pulse through his body Dean stood up, he balled his fists and shook his shoulders, wiping the blood from his lip he glared intently at Tag. “Fuck you man, I tried explaining looks I am gonna have to do a little more than that.”

At that Tag laughed out loud and clenched his own fists. “I’ll like to see you try.”

With that Dean rushed Tag, the two brawled, Tag had anticipated Dean to rush him and flipped him over onto his back, Tag then sent his right fist to the side of Dean’s head however Dean blocked the punch and head butted Tag, right between the eyes.

Tag fell back as Dean jumped up to his feet, clutching his nose Tag tried to kick Dean but Dean blocked a right kick and lifted Tag up and slammed him to the floor.

“Tag listen man I didn’t want to hurt your sister, I didn’t even know I had, when you find her tell her im want to talk to her.” Dean muttered and spat blood away and climbed the stairs but only to find Rip strolling down cheerfully.

“Jesus Prospect you look dead what happened, did you try chatting up more of those show girls again?” Rip laughed and walked past Dean.

“No, and very funny, Jace is looking for you, where have you been?” Dean asked leaning against the barrister.
“What for?” Rip asked.
“The Mothers have been hitting our stores, im sorry man I had to tell him what happened at the bar.”

Rip sighed and jumped down the last three steps and ran past the unconscious body of Tag, with Dean chasing after him as best he could, the two men revved up their engines and headed out on the road.

Highwaymen Chapter 3

Belmont, Highwaymen Clubhouse July 17th

“RIP!” Came Heft’s voice thundering out of the Club house.

Rip and Dean pulled up to the Club house, Dean glanced a sharp look to Rip, Rip laughed out loud a little bit then gulped his throat and chained his bike up.

“Looks like i’m in the shit huh.” Rip muttered and strolled in through the front door. “Yo!”

Dean shook his head and followed after him, as soon as he entered he could see Heft and Jace in deep conversation with Heft, the rest of the club was quietly sipping at their drinks, they were all listening in to the conversation.

“Kid if i were you i would buy myself a drink.” Came a voice from behind him.

Dean turned to see Bow watching over him, his face resembled concrete, stern and grimaced, his eyes were watching Rip and Heft intently.

“Will do, any idea what those lot other there are saying?” Dean asked.

Bow didn’t answer, didn’t even look at Dean, just kept his gaze over the three men, who were now aggressively shouting at one another, Heft the loudest of all of them was snapping at Ripper more and more whilst Jace was trying to calm down Heft and to defend Ripper at the same time.

“Why did you have to kill the stupid fuck, you could have given him a warning, rough him up but no you started off a war and didn’t have the guts to come back here and look me in the face!” Heft roared down on Ripper.

As if unable to speak Rip just stood there and listened to every word Heft said, it was completely out of character, no smart remarks, no incursions, he was listening and nodding taking in every word Heft said.

Jace was the only one who talked back at Heft, trying to null his anger, “Pres we were going to go to war anyway, they were in our turf Rip was just trying to...” He exclaimed.

“Jace im talking to Rip here.” Heft muttered with a sharp disapproving glance at Jace, then returning his eyes to Ripper. “Listen your little stunt cost me time, now i want you to round up a little posse and go defend our stores, one more slip Rip one more slip and your out, down to soldier, i’ll give Sergeant at Arms to some one else.”

Ripper nodded and took his leave, rounding up a few soldiers before he left.

Dean watched Heft leave, there were four levels to the club house, the first for all the members who needed a place to crash, the second for all the weapons stashed away, the weapons in case needed if a Army tried to take out the Club house.

The third level was for any spare stash that the club found, mostly spare bike parts, the old bike of the Wolf was up there somewhere, in bits and pieces they were not able to take it all up in one piece, Tomb and Bow went up regularly to work on it, since then Heft was able to put a elevator.

And the fourth level was for the Cabinet, the name for the four of the elite members, the President, Vice president, Secretary and Treasurer, it was a place for them to live if they had no where else to go, since Heft didn’t own a flat apartment and that Bow had divorced his wife the two were very common around the club house.

Dean swigged his beer and glanced over to the Vice President, he was in deep conversation with Bow.

“You alright Prospect?” Came a sharp voice from behind him.

He turned to see Rix, a member of the Club, a good soldier and artist he was one of the members who was the Tattoo artist, most of his work was written on his body.

“Hey Rix what’s shaking?” Dean asked and the two clapped hands.

“Not much man i have just finished a piece on Tomb’s back,” Rix explained and grabbed a beer whilst the Barman was looking away. “Any reason why the Pres was going nuts?”

“Rip messed up a few Mothers a few days ago, they have been raiding our stores and now Heft wants blood.”

“Shit, is there gonna be another war?”

“Don’t know.”

Rix drank his beer and clapped Dean on the shoulder and invited him to a game of pool, as Dean made to move another member of the club came up to him, the Road Captain Bran, saying that Heft wanted to talk to him in the Counsel room.

Dean said his goodbyes to Rix and made his way to the counsel room. Inside he spotted Heft, Jace and Bow sitting around a table.

“Take a seat Prospect.” Heft muttered and gestured to the vacant seat at the table.

Dean felt the sweat tickle at his spine, he was confused, the table was meant for the elite, not a Prospect like himself.

“Sit down son.” Bow boomed, and then broke in a coughing fit.

Dean nodded and sat down, twiddling his finger with his thumb he looked from Bow’s to Jace and then to Heft, his impassive face and brown eyes imposed on Dean.

“Listen kid, tomorrow i intend on going to a little meeting, a need someone there i trust, Bow will be going with me as a Advisor and Jace for protection, i need you for muscle.” Heft exclaimed na dlight up a cigarette.

Dean nodded and looked back at Bow who nodded gently.

“What i don’t want,” Heft continued. “Is for you to say no or tell anyone else here at the Club of this little meeting, your working your way up i respect that, you followed after Rip in his little indiscretion with the Mother’s, Oak says you fight well, if everything doesn’t go as smoothly tomorrow as it is supposed to we might need that.”

Dean nodded again, Heft seemed to relax the room, it was his natural way with meetings, like a Diplomat he was able to transfigure all unnecessary emotions and move them away.

“Right now where is that girlfriend of yours?” Heft asked taking a slow drag from his cigarette.

“I don’t know i haven’t seen her for a few days now.” Dean explained combing his hair with his hand.

“No word at all? Doesnt sound right.” Bow murmured.

“Maybe she got bored and moved on.” Jace laughed and winked at Dean.

“That’s not it, Sand is a good girl we will sort that out after the meeting tomorrow.” Heft muttered, silencing Bow and Jace. “You going back to your flat tonight?”

“Yeah I might head back when the night is done.” Dean replied.

“Don’t bother, i heard about Tag he will probably go to your flat, what with everything as it is Dean we cant take any chances.” Heft muttered flicked ash away from his cigarette. “The irish bastard has contacts with the Rogues, look Dean i wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah what?”

“Me and the Cabinet have been thinking about it, five years from now anything could happen, we could become big for all i care, i’ve had this planned since the early years, New York is over run by new breed gangs, Bow thinks that cant be stopped, i do.”

Heft cleared his throat and patted Bow on the shoulder, “i ahve been hearing good things about you kid so i have something planned for someone like you, thing is i need to earn some trust, can you do that for me.”

Dean nodded and smiled, it was the first sign of his confidence at the meeting, it shocked Jace who didn’t expect much from the little kid.

“Good, now get out of here, get a room upstairs i need you early tomorrow.” Heft laughed and gestured Dean to the door.

As Dean left he wiped his hair back, as the door slowly closed Dean stood alone in the empty corridor and his ears pricked at the words the Cabinet were saying.

“Are you sure that kid can do it?” Jace asked with a mocking tone to his voice.
“I don’t see why not?” Bow muttered.

“Come on the prospect is a kid, not even member material.” Jace exclaimed.
“Dont be too quick to judge, he may be a good fighter but the kid is also a good listener, he knows more than people say i can tell by when i was talking to him.” Heft’s voice rung out.

“Still you are expecting too much of him.” Jace continued. “Anyway im getting outta here before you think of letting Rip be the kid’s godfather.”

Dean then quickly darted out of the corridor, not wishing to be caught listening to the Cabinet’s conversation .

Away from the corridor Bow and Heft were still in deep conversation.

“I’ll call down Al, see if he can bring some muscle against the Mother’s.” Heft muttered.

“Al? The Road Captain, is he still in prison?” Bow asked with a bemused look in his eyes.

“yeah got out last week, i asked him to lie low for a bit.”

“Is that wise, considering why he was in the joint in the first place.”

“He’s learnt his lesson, besides we need him, i’ll ask Rix or Russ to keep a eye on him though, if he thinks the Highwaymen are at risk he’ll try to bring new reforms but we need him.”

Bow sighed disapprovingly and light a cigar, thumbling for his matches Heft clicked his lighter and held it for Bow who refused.

“No flavour with that thing.” He muttered and sparked up a match. “Listen your father was a good man, a good leader, your not much different but your father knew when to take the hits and when to dish them, this shit with the Mothers is nothing compared to the old shit we use to do, but it can break out to something big.”

“I know, but dad was in a different time, today im here making the plans, plans with the Prospect, plans with the club, back then the gangs were nothing, now they are everywhere.”

“True they weren’t as powerful but that was because the Bikers owned everything, now most of them have moved out or gone extinct, i know you don’t want either son but a decision needs to be made, war with New York itself, you got over sixty thousand soldiers out there ready to fight for their turf.”

“We got three charters of the club old man, we can hold out.”

“We both know the other two charters are gone, gone west, new names new tags, we are the last of the line brother, that’s why you had the idea for the prospect.”

“Smart old man, real smart, look as far as i see it Queens Bridge doesn’t have any gangs over it it’s prime and ready for the Prospect, but it will take time.”

“Time is the one thing we don’t have.”

speaking of highwayman
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uw1bHaUk1CM
classic tune

lol aint heard tht 4 ages, i was inspired 2 write this from a old poem i read called the highwayman by alfred poyes think, i wanted 2 mix tht up with the wild one, always been a biker fan feel free to review im open to critics

dude this story is mean

good or bad mean?

And that's the trouble with slang!

sorry bro i meant good mean

lol ah cool man no worries, il be writing more on this soon i just havent had any reviews yet so i dont know what to do with it

heres a reveiw the story is real good and the biker gang rivalry was awsome i always wonderd if the mothers were the only biker gang . yet one question will the fighting be fist or gun

bad critiscism dunt dunt daaaaa
none man the story is well written and kicks ass ( and thats good slang )

i have a story aswell its my 1st story just hoping i could get some critiscism

thanks man only just saw that review my bad guys il have the nexy chapter up soon thanks for standing vigil and reading my work i feel loved, i mean that in a totally manly straight way ... so yeah next chapter up soon =]