The engine died.
Nobody moved.
Even the wind seemed afraid.
Ghost stared at the rider like he’d seen a ghost crawl out of hell itself.
“Daniel…” he whispered.
The man slowly removed his helmet.
Older.
Scarred.
But alive.
The little boy suddenly ran forward.
“Dad!”
Ghost grabbed the child before he reached the gate.
“WAIT!”
The bikers instantly surrounded Ghost, panic spreading through the yard.
“You buried him!” one biker shouted.
“We all saw the coffin!” another yelled.
Daniel stepped off the motorcycle slowly, eyes locked on Ghost.
“You buried an empty box.”
The entire yard froze.
Ghost shook his head violently.
“That’s impossible… I carried your body myself.”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“No. You carried what they wanted you to carry.”
Then his expression darkened.
“Somebody in this club sold me out.”
Silence exploded across the compound.
Every biker immediately looked at each other with suspicion.
Ghost’s breathing became heavier.
Ten years ago, Daniel had disappeared during a gun-running job near the border. Everyone believed he’d died in the explosion that followed.
But now the truth stood right in front of them.
Alive.
Watching them.
Daniel looked toward the little boy.
“I stayed away to protect him.”
The child clutched the toy motorcycle tightly.
“But they found us anyway.”
Ghost frowned.
“…who found you?”
Daniel slowly turned toward the bikers.
“One of yours.”
Suddenly—
CLICK.
A gun cocked behind Ghost’s head.
The entire yard gasped.
Ghost slowly turned and saw one of his oldest brothers pointing a pistol directly at him.
The biker’s eyes were cold.
“You should’ve stayed buried, Daniel.”
The little boy screamed.
Daniel reached for his waist—
GUNSHOT.
CUT TO BLACK.
