background. All attention was locked onto the shifting, trembling sack in the middle
of the highway.
“Did that thing just move?” Jax whispered, his hand instinctively dropping
toward the utility knife clipped to his belt. The tough, battle-hardened bikers stood
in stunned silence. Whatever was inside was alive, and it was trapped in a baking,
suffocating oven on the surface of one of America’s busiest highways.
“Give me your knife, Jax,” Jim ordered, his voice dropping to a gravelly urgency.
Jax unclipped his blade and handed it over. Jim dropped to his knees, ignoring the
scorching heat of the asphalt soaking through his heavy denim jeans. He carefully
gripped the knot of the frayed rope, but it was pulled too tight, sealed by whatever
monster had tied it.
With precise, careful movements, Jim slid the blade under the thick rope. He
didn't want to cut the burlap directly, terrified of injuring whoever—or whatever—
was inside. With a sharp tug, the rope snapped. The top of the burlap sack loosened.
The bikers crowded around in a tight circle, acting as a human shield against the
harsh sun and the prying eyes of the frustrated motorists behind them.
Jim slowly peeled back the rough, scratchy fabric. A faint, heartbreaking
whimper escaped from the darkness within. As the sunlight hit the interior of the
bag, the collective heart of the Iron Souls broke.
Curled into a tight, trembling ball was a puppy. It was a pitbull mix, no more
than three or four months old, completely emaciated. Every rib was visible beneath
its patchy, dirt-caked fur. Its paws were scraped and raw, and a thick, cruel chain
was wrapped tightly around its tiny neck. The puppy was severely dehydrated, its
breathing shallow and erratic.
It squeezed its eyes shut against the bright light, too weak to even lift its head. It
just lay there on the hot fabric, waiting for the end.
A heavy, dangerous silence fell over the hundred bikers. These were men who
had seen the worst of humanity, who had fought in wars, lived through rough
streets, and carried the scars to prove it. But looking down at this innocent, helpless