The Sirens Chapter 1

The quiet country morning is disturbed by the roar of an unknown beast as the surrounding country side is awakening from this roar. You would think it was a horde of beast coming down the quiet peaceful roads that lead through the back roads of this quiet country side. Double lines of chrome beast rolled down the road as each of their riders were enjoying the country side and their fellow sisters with them. It was hard to tell how many of them were women and how many were men by the way they were dress. Their black leather vest reflected the shine on them as they rode. About twenty of the motorcycles had double riders, while the rest of them were single riders. In the lead were the leader and co-leader of this biker group. You could tell these were women by the way they were dress. Their tight leather vest and pants showed their curves and their bare arms. One had shoulder length brunette hair that showed out from under her helmet and the other had a long dirty blonde braid that hung down her back from below her helmet. Her dark sunglasses reflected the morning light as it shines off the reflected surface of the highly polish lenses. Both their dark steeds rode side by side as if they were one unit. Each in time with the other as if they had minds and knew what their owners expected of them.

Off in the distance a small figure is seen stumbling along the country road. The figure was barely able to walk down the side of the country road. It stumbles alone trying to keep from falling onto the road running next to it. The figure looks up when it hears thunder coming towards it and just as it puts it foot down to take another step. It’s foot twist and causes the figure to fall towards the road. It lays there weeping wondering if it is going to be run over.

The two women watch as the figure falls onto the road. They hold up their arm to let the other riders behind them know that they need to stop as they pull over to the side of the road. The leader of the group gets off her motorcycle and walks up to the figure lying on the road. She can tell as she gets closer, that the figure looks like a young girl. The dress she has on is bloody and ripped. The poor child’s feet were covered in blood both on top of her feet and from under her feet where she had been walking bare footed and had cut her feet on broken glass. Her face was bloody where someone had punched her in the nose and split her lip. Both her eyes were swollen from being punch in her eyes. One of her eyes already looked like someone had punched her there already, caused the surrounding tissue was black and blue.

“Angie, send Helena and the emergency kit over here quickly.” The woman screams back towards her second in command.

Angie looks back behind her “Helena, your needed-up front and bring your emergency kit.” Angie gets off her motorcycle and runs up towards her friend and leader.

When she gets closer she notices the poor girl just lying there, while her leader examines her to see if she can safely be moved over towards the side of the road.

“We need to get her off the road.” Angie says as she kneels next to her leader.

“I know. There doesn’t seem to be any broken bones that I can see.” The woman puts her arms under the young girl and lifts her up off the road and walks over towards the side of the road cradling her in her arms like a baby. A woman in her late thirties with jet black hair and Native American features comes running up with a blanket tucked under one arm and carrying a large red bag with a white cross on it towards the other two women.

The young girl felt herself being lifted by the woman who had come over to check on her and carried over towards the side of the road. Angel just looks at the woman that had her. He could tell she was concern about him and that she was worried. He could see it in her eyes. He was glad that she had stopped, instead of running him over with her motorcycle.

Tears stream down his face as he remembers what his father had done to him. He couldn’t help himself; he knew he was in the wrong body. He wasn’t a boy, but a girl. He wasn’t happy being born a boy and being made to act like the rest of the boys in his neighborhood. He enjoyed playing with baby dolls and wearing dresses like the girls did. It felt right to him and he knew deep down that this was how he was supposed to act.

It didn’t bother him when the older boys called him names or beat him up for acting like a girl. The real pain came from his father, who was a very abusive unloving person. He didn’t like that his son preferred dresses and baby dolls over playing baseball and rough housing. He didn’t like it when he dressed up in his mother clothes and wore her make-up and jewelry. His father was to blame for the death of his mother. A couple of guys that his father owed money to came to the house and tried to kill him. His father had taken aim at one of them and fired his gun at him, instead of hitting him; the bullet went through the wall and struck his mother who was protecting him in the next room. The bullet hit her from behind and in the head. His mother had fallen forward on top of him with her blood dripping from the wound onto him.
He missed his mother and wish she had been there yesterday to stop what happen to him. His father had come home early from work and caught him dressed up in some of his mothers’ clothes he had hidden away for himself. His father had grabbed him by the arms and turned him over his knees and pulled down the panties he had on and spanked him with his leather belt that had metal holes in it. He could feel blood starting to slide down his legs from the broken skin. When his father stopped spanking him with the belt he had stood him up in front of him and told him to take off the dress he had on. He told him no and before he could duck or move, he was back handed so hard that he was lifted off the floor and thrown a good twenty feet into the other wall. He felt his head and body slam against the wall. His father had closed the distance and yelled at him for disobeying him as his father’s fist punched his face breaking his nose and giving him another black eye. The last thing he felt, before he blacked out was his father’s thirteen-inch work boot kicking him in the stomach while he slumps against the wall.

He remembered waking up in a ditch early this morning feeling every injury he had sustained from his father. He couldn’t believe his father would dump him on the side of the road in a ditch like this. It was difficult for him to climb up the steep bank of the ditch because of his injuries, but he was glad once he got to the top. He looked around trying to find someone to help him, but there was no one around. He had started to walk down the side of the road hoping someone would spot him. He had stepped onto a bunch of broken glass that had been hidden beneath a layer of dead leaves. It wasn’t till the sun had been up for a while that he heard thunder from the motorcycles that he started to have some hope.
Angel felt himself being laid down on the ground on top of a blanket and being checked over by another woman. She tears open the dress he has on and starts checking him. He looks up at her, just before passing out again.

The woman carrying the young girl lays her down carefully on the blanket. Angie takes her vest off and balls it up under the young girl’s head to act as a pillow for her. Helena kneels next to the young girl and starts to examine her. She tears open the dress and when the young girl looks up at her, she feels so sorry for her. Helena watches as the young girls eyes close as she passes out.

The woman who had been carrying the young girl looks at Helena as she begins to examine her “Is she going to be okay?”
Helena looks at her leader “He looks pretty beat up D.A., whoever abused this child, broke several of his ribs and did a number on him. This child doesn’t deserve this type of treatment.”

“Did you just say he?” Angie and D.A. say at the same time.
“Yep, this child has the plumbing of a boy, but he is missing two of the three things that really make him a male. His testes are missing and I would guess that’s why he looks so much like a developing girl of his age. Look at his chest, he’s starting to develop breast of his own.” Helena takes out some gaze, bandages and peroxide. She starts cleaning the wounds she can find with peroxide and bandage them up to keep them sterile.

Angie looks towards D.A. “well what do you want to do? We could call the local Sheriff and turn him over to them or take him with us and turn him over to them.”

D.A. looks down at the young boy and is surprise how much he looks like a little girl. She brushes some of his dirty blonde hair out of his closed eyes. She had notice that he had green eyes, compare to her light blue ones. D.A. watches Helena as she works on the poor child.

“Can he be moved Helena?” D.A. was thinking that till they find out what happen to this child, that he would be better off with them.

“If someone holds him, then the answer is yes. I can give him a pain reliever to make it more comfortable and to keep him asleep till we met up with Brenda later this afternoon. He’s going to need some clothes to wear, unless you want to keep him wrapped up in the blanket.” Helena starts gathering all the trash and medical waste up and put them in the trash bag she has with her. She stuffs the ruin dress inside as well.

“Ask Edith if she has spare set of clothes with her. I know she normally carries some of our T-shirts and shorts for sell. Also, let’s keep it quiet that he is a he as well. The rest of the group doesn’t need to know what his sex is right now. If anyone asks, she is my niece and was attack.” D.A. tells the others there with her.

“You’re the boss D.A.” Helena picks up her emergency bag and heads back towards her motorcycle. She stops at a motorcycle just before she reaches hers and talks with a young woman with silver color hair.

The other women in the club had stayed by their motorcycles wondering what was going on. They were curious as to what was going on with the young girl they had seen their leader carry off the road.
Two women come walking forwards with one of them carrying two clear packages in her hand.
As she approaches D.A. and Angie “You wanted these D.A.?” as she hands the packages to D.A.

Angie looks towards both of her fellow sisters “there for this young girl here. Her dress was to damage for her to travel in and we had to throw it away.”

The silver haired woman looks down at the sleeping young girl. “She looks so peaceful. What happen to her?”

“We don’t know yet. All we do know is that someone used her as their own personal punching bag.” Angie watches the reaction of the two women.

She knows Clair use to be an abused house wife. She was married to a member in the Pagan motorcycle club. Her partner Rachel had beaten the tar out of Clair’s husband the last time he tried to lay a hand on her. It was bad enough that his wife left him for another woman, but to have that woman beat him up in front of his brothers at the same time was adding salt to the wound. The Pagans were impressed by Rachel and wouldn’t retaliate against her for beating up a member of their club. Angie watches as Rachel glitches her fist in anger. She knows what violence Rachel is capable of. Rachel has a hatred for any man that abuses a young girl or woman.

D.A. had been busy dressing this child in the clothes Clair and Rachel brought up to them. She had used her body to shield the child’s sex from her sisters, until she has had a chance to talk with them all about him. Even dress in their club t-shirts and shorts, he still looked like a young girl. D.A. picks the child up off the ground and turns around with him in her arms. She looks towards the women standing in front of her “I was wondering if one of you two could ride double and hold onto her while we rode., You could ask Selena or Jennifer to ride your motorcycle while your riding double.”

Rachel looks at her partner “You want to ride or hold?”
Clair looks back towards her partner “I’ll hold her, while you handle the motorcycle. Besides, this will give me a chance to spend time with you.”
D.A. puts the sleeping child in Clair’s arms “Let me know if we need to stop for you.”
“Will do DA.” Clair carries the sleeping child back to where her partners’ motorcycle is at after stopping and asking Selena to ride her motorcycle for her, while she holds the child.”

Angie looks towards her friend “I hope you know what your doing DA, cause with our life style, allot of people don’t like the idea of lesbians raising children. Also, what are we going to do if this child turns out to be missing?”
DA looks towards Angie and smiles “I doubt he’s missing., There is to much physical abuse on the child to prove they did this on purpose for what he is. Plus, I want to get the bastard or bastards that beat this child up. It’s time they face the music for their actions.” DA mounts her motorcycle and puts her shades back on.

“Well, whatever you decide to do, I’ll support you on it.” Angie mounts her motorcycle and starts it up. The rest of the women hear their leader’s motorcycles fire up and they follow suit. Once everyone is ready they hit the road again.

If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos!
Click the Thumbs Up! button below to leave the author a kudos:
189 users have voted.

And please, remember to comment, too! Thanks. 
This story is 2617 words long.