Chapter 10: The Midnight Departure
Jax turned away from the heavy steel door, his boots hitting the concrete floor with purposeful strides. He walked straight to the back shelving unit where Leo was huddled in the shadows, pulling the heavy tires aside to clear the path. He knelt down so he was eye-level with the frightened boy, placing a large, reassuring hand gently on Leo’s thin shoulder. The oversized flannel shirt trembled slightly against the boy’s chest, but those big hazel eyes looked back up with fierce, unwavering trust.
"They're coming back with the cops in under an hour, kid," Jax said quietly, his voice urgent but controlled. "That means our window just slammed shut. We ride right now, or we don't ride at all."
"I'm ready," Leo whispered, his voice steady. He stood up immediately, zipping his canvas backpack and pulling the hood of his old jacket over his messy light brown hair.
Jax didn't waste a second on comforting words; actions were all that mattered now. He grabbed a heavy leather riding jacket, significantly smaller than his own, which he had kept tucked away in a storage trunk for years, and helped Leo slide his arms through the sleeves. It was slightly worn around the cuffs, but it fit the boy’s small frame like armor. Next, he retrieved a secure strap-on child safety harness—a rugged piece of gear designed for sidecar passengers and long-haul riders—and strapped Leo securely to his own chest, ensuring the boy could hold on safely without the risk of falling asleep or losing his grip on the winding highway curves.
Jax wheeled the massive custom chopper toward the rear service exit that led straight out into a narrow, unlit alleyway behind the block. He kicked the starter lever down with a hard, practiced stomp. The twin-cylinder engine sputtered once, coughed a cloud of blue smoke into the quiet garage, and then roared to life with a deep, thunderous vibration that rattled the tools on the nearby benches. The sound was pure music—a wild, untamed roar of mechanical power that drowned out the quiet anxiety of the night.
With Leo secured firmly against his back, Jax swung his heavy leg over the saddle, twisted the throttle slightly to let the engine settle into a steady, aggressive idle, and flicked off the overhead workbench lights. The garage plunged into darkness, illuminated only by the warm amber glow of the chopper’s single headlight cutting through the dusty air. Jax reached up and unlatched the manual chain-lift for the rear service door.
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The heavy steel door rolled upward, screeching loudly against its rusty tracks and spilling the cool, moonlit night air into the room. Outside, the narrow alleyway was completely empty, flanked by towering brick warehouses and shadowed overhangs. Without looking back, Jax released the clutch, gave the throttle a firm twist, and shot forward out of the garage into the freedom of the dark night.
The cool wind hit their faces instantly, whipping Leo’s hair against his forehead as the custom machine accelerated smoothly down the alley. They turned hard onto a forgotten side street, leaving the neon lights of the commercial district behind them. As they crossed the railroad tracks and headed toward the wooded foothills of Route 9, the distant flashing red and blue lights of police cruisers could be seen pulling up outside Iron Horse Custom Motors. But Jax and the roaring engine were already dissolving into the shadows, leaving the corporate pursuers eating dust in their wake.
