Desert Vengeance 6

One hundred and forty one Harleys riding full bore down Interstate 17 was enough to make even the most stout hearted trucker pull his rig over onto the highways shoulder and stop.

The close formation and intense speed made it clear these riders had a purpose and they were pissed.

A rolling, rumbling mass of thunderous sound reverberated clear into the valley below.

Buildings shook, the occupants peered out windows and seeing the oncoming horde quickly closed the blinds and locked the doors.

Not understanding the purpose, no one wanted to be the reason for this groups arrival.

Pop, leading the pack, headed straight onto the off-ramp for Grand Avenue.

At speeds almost seeming to defy physics. The parade of angry snarling bikes rolled through town. Streets full of activity just moments before were devoid of any signs of life. Air raid sirens have never been known to be this effective.

Turning onto Camelback road from Grand Avenue The pack gained speed. Seeing the sign for the Panama Red bar. Pop raised his arm and made a circular motion. The military precision in which the bikers encircled the building would have made a West point drill team seem disorganized.

As one, the riders placed the bikes on their side stands, killed the ignitions and dismounted. The abrupt silence amplified the still reverberating echoes shuddering across the valley.

Local clergy hiding behind the doors of their churches hastily checked the big book's passages on the Apocalypse. Checking to see if perhaps they had misread it, just in case it was one hundred and forty, not four. Judgement day must have certainly arrived.

And for some. It had.

Animal heard a shot. Before his ears could tell him the direction of the sound, his eyes watched the gunman's upper body explode onto the walls of the tavern.

A second blast tossed the gunman's accomplice clear over the upturned table. The look of surprise frozen forever in his eyes.

Animal looked to the direction of the sound having regained his sense of direction. Oracle was standing at the bar with a shit eating grin, holding a duffel bag in one hand and a sawed-off shotgun in the other.

Oracle laughed and said, "They made a helluva motorcycle back in nineteen fifteen and they make some damn fine guns too." referring to the Iver Johnson shotgun.

Tossing the duffel bag over to Animal he continued, "Those two idiots were sent to take you out? They could have sent Abbot and Costello and they wouldn't have been as sloppy."

"Sloppy or not, had you not been here they might have succeeded," replied Animal.

"I doubt that dumb shit could've aimed well enough to hit you. Shit, he got Henderson in the leg. Not exactly a marksman."

"Still I owe you one."

"Yeah and for the times in ninety five and ninety eight. But then lest we forget the times in ninety one, two and four where you saved my ass. But who's counting?"

Looking over at Henderson, Animal wasn't really surprised to see him sitting upright in the doorway casually smoking a cigar. One hand holding a tablecloth over the bullet wound in his thigh.

"I don't know if I should even ask. You OK?" asked Animal

"Sure why wouldn't I be" replied Henderson.

"Oh, I don't know. Perhaps the sudden ventilation of your leg?"

"This?" pointing to the hole in his pants leg. "I've gotten worse being bitten by a horsefly."

"Remind me never to go to your ranch." Chuckled Animal.

The tavern walls started to vibrate with a slow but steady capacony. The wooden floorboards creaked aganst each other spraying up dust plumes. Animal could hear the sound encircle the tavern and suddenly fall silent.

Oracle spoke up "The Cavalry's here, just in time, too" he laughed.

Animal, seeing Pop enter the doorway chimed in, "Hey Custer, too many Indians on the way here?"

Pop holding up a one fingered salute smiled and said. "Jack in the Box was having a lunch special today. We didn't feel the need to be in any real hurry. After all, it's just you three."

Henderson grinning replied, "Hey, don't bunch me in with this scooter trash. I'm a talented kinda guy, I'm worth saving. Can't say the same for this cretin," pointing a finger at Animal.

"Cretin? For a guy two barely evolutionary steps above primordial soup you should talk."

Marduk hearing the banter back and forth said, "Look if you idiots don't knock it off. I'll take your bikes and lock'em away for a week."

Oracle,Pop, Henderson and Animal replied almost as one "That's harsh Bro!"

"Hey I'll do what I gotta do and Henderson, stop bleeding all over the damn floor. This is a respectable joint."

Henderson lifted his leg saying "I've heard this place called many things...but respectable? I gotta look up the Websters meaning of that word because I must have got it wrong."

Oracle looked around the bar that was rapidly filling up with thirsty bikers and asked, "Before you get to tilting back the brew, anybody want to tell me if anyone figured out what that hell is going on yet?"

"Pop's got a theory." said Marduk, flipping his thumb back at him.

"Me? I wasn't the one who came up with it," waving is arm in a sweep, "it was those two. Digger and Springer."

"Well then out with it." said Oracle.

Springer proceeded to bring Animal, Henderson and Oracle up to date. Animal looked over at Digger, "All the possible outcomes and you still got that damn knack for getting close to the truth."

"You mean I was right?"

"Damn close. Since it's out among this brotherhood and I know it''ll never leave this group I'll tell you what I know."

"It all started with an ancient culture called the Toltec's. They wrote a codex that has yet to be completely deciphered. The scientists were able to gather this bit of information from them. Dec 24 2011 is believed to be universally accepted as the doomsday date in Mayan calenders. This is fairly common knowledge. But what the scientists figured out was, it's not an ending but a beginning. And if it comes to pass, shit's gonna hit the fan."