Desert Vengeance

85 miles per hour was the sweet spot on Heather, cresting the long rise and peering down the miles long straight stretch of deserted highway.

Animal was kicking back and enjoying life just for the sake of it. Boots on the forward controls, his left hand splayed across the bottom of his 'king tank', right hand palming the throttle, twin cylinders singing a note of contentment.

‘Life is good’ was the mantra repeating itself over and over in his head.

The air was so crisp, clear and cool. Animal's bike had an extra helping of torque and horsepower today...Heather was loving the extra charge of oxygen.

A momentary blip of the throttle and Heather jumped to over a 100 in an instant. Rolling off the throttle brought the iron mare back to 85. Animal yelled out over the bike's sound an earsplitting, "Yeaaaah!"

Having no demands on his time, a pocket full of cash and no particular destination in mind, it was the ultimate taste of freedom.
Reaching the end of the long straightaway he saw a rest area up on his right, smoothly downshifting, he slowed and rolled up to a shaded picnic table, shifted into neutral, switched the bike off and kicked out the side-stand. Stepping off the bike, he allowed himself a long slow stretch.

Pulling a pack of smokes and a tall cool drink from the cooler in his saddlebag, he proceeded over to the table. Instead of sitting he lay on his back across the table and watched the eagles soaring overhead. 'Yep, life is good." he whispered aloud to the majestic gliding birds. He thought to himself, "This day would be absolutely perfect if I had a lady to share it with." Another voice in his head replied, "Still, it's a damn great day.

In his relaxed state of mind he started to drift of to sleep. "Mister?" a voice from the nearby sagebrush called out to him. Thinking for a moment that he was dreaming Animal almost didn't respond. "Hey Mister." came the voice again. Animal rolled over off of the table and walked toward the sound.

'Hello?" answered Animal questioningly. A young woman emerged from the bushes and asked, "Can you spare a drink?" Animal looked around the park and saw no vehicle other than his bike and asked, "Where the hell did you come from?"

“My boyfriend kicked me out of the car yesterday and left me here,” she replied.

“You've been here overnight?” Animal replied as he walked over to the bush and peered under it,”With no blanket or anything?”

Standing back and taking stock of what the girl was wearing; Animal couldn't believe the girl was still alive. The desert can get damn cold at night, all she had on was a pair of Daisy Duke shorts and a halter top with knee high boots. It wasn't exactly the sort of clothing that fostered overnight survival.

“If that's the case, this is one tough chick,” Animal chuckled to himself. Still he found it odd that she was looking no worse for wear.

“Do you need a ride into town?” Animal asked. “Yes I do,” replied the girl, “but I don't think I want to ride on a motorcycle. I have never been on one and they look very scary. I'm afraid I'll fall off.”

Animal smiled and thought to himself, I've heard this a few times. ”You don't need to worry; there is a sissy bar on the back to keep that from happening. All you gotta do is keep yourself centered on the seat and hold onto me if you need to.”

The girl looked at Animal and over at his bike and seemed to be contemplating whether to take the ride or face the prospect of another night in the desert. It didn't take long to make a decision. Cautiously she replied, “I guess it would be okay to ride into town...If you ride slow and easy.”

Animal laughed and said, “Don't worry; I'll get you there safe and sound.” He pointed to the picnic table and continued, “But first lets get you something to drink and I have a couple of sandwiches in my saddlebags. You'll feel better after you have had something in your stomach. By the way what's your name?”

At first she didn't respond. She looked as if she was wrestling with the idea of giving this stranger her name. Finally she half whispered, “Kathy.” Sensing her discomfort at being asked, Animal didn't pursue the subject any further.

As the two just sat and ate quietly, Animal had a recurring thought that all wasn't as it appeared...but couldn't see any evidence to the contrary. Dismissing it as old habits from his former career as an undercover customs agent, he relegated the idea to the back of his mind.

“Would you mind if I had one of your smokes?” she asked. “Help yourself,” said Animal. Drawing a long drag from her cigarette, Animal could see that Kathy relaxed a bit. Finishing it and stubbing it out on the concrete slab she looked over at Animal and said, “I'm ready whenever you are.”

Animal packed up the contents of his saddlebags and threw a leg over the bike, motioning for her to get on the back. “Just place your foot here on this peg and swing your leg over.” She did as he asked. Animal wondered if she did it just a little too easily for a novice.

Bringing Heather to life, he waited for the knee-squeeze that always accompanied a new girl’s first reaction to the shaking and loud rumble. When she didn’t respond at all it struck him as more than a little odd. The thought nagged at him as he shifted into gear and pulled out from the rest area.

After he got up to a cruising speed of 70 mph, Kathy leaned back against the sissy bar and Animal could feel her settle in for the ride. 20 minutes later, as they were approaching town, her casual posture almost made Animal wonder if she had fallen asleep.

Rolling down the town's main drag, Animal saw a group of bikes parked in front of a local tavern. He slowed and started to turn into a parking spot. Kathy suddenly seemed to come to life, and now he felt the familiar knee-squeeze, extremely tight, and she grabbed his shoulders and pleaded into his ear, "Don't stop here, keep going, get out of town!" Animal twisted the throttle and took off.

Reaching a few miles outside of town, Animal pulled over to the side of the road, shut off the bike and turned on his seat and said, “OK, what gives? What the hell was that all about?”

“I haven't exactly been truthful with you.” she replied.
“No shit. But now would be the time to come clean,” said Animal.
Tears were welling up in her eyes as she looked at Animal and mumbled, “Those bikes you saw in town....they are looking for me.”

“What the hell for?” Animal yelled. He was getting a sinking feeling in his gut as he waited for her response. This 'good day' was looking like it was going to hell pretty damn quickly. Suddenly, Kathy jumped to a standing position on Heather’s foot pegs and screamed, “They’re heading this way!”

Glancing over his shoulder, Animal witnessed ten sport bikes screaming out of town and heading in their direction. Animal figured an explanation was gonna have to wait. Waiting on what sounded like a pack of angry diuretic mosquitoes didn't look to be a healthy pastime. Animal started Heather; her angry, deep-throated bellow spurred into action with a twist of the throttle. He shifted into gear and laying rubber for 20 feet, hurdled out on the asphalt. Knowing that even on her best day, Heather couldn't outrun the pursuing multicolored wraith that was rapidly approaching.

Looking for a means of escape, Animal saw a Cadillac heading into town towards them. Figuring to at least have a witness to what, at this point, wasn’t looking good, Animal aimed to close in on the vehicle.
The oncoming Caddy driver was less than a quarter mile away and closing quickly. Animal looked into his rear view mirror to see the pursuing bikes no less than a hundred feet behind him and one was almost abreast of Heather.

“Damn.” thought Animal, “they caught up quick.” The lead rider pulled almost even alongside Heather. Looking forward, Animal saw the Caddy driver stick his hand out and before he had time to react, he saw a flash and heard a loud pop. Instinctively swerving, the bullet ricocheted off the triple clamp of his front forks. Adrenaline caused his eyes to follow the path of the bullet, and then he watched as the rider next to him flipped backwards off of his mount as his face plate imploded. The now rider-less bike continued on following a straight line, narrowly missing the oncoming Caddy.

“One down,” flashed in Animals consciousness. Not wanting to be in line for another shot from the Caddy driver, he swerved sharply to the left across the path of the Caddy. The driver, reacting to the sudden move, yanked his wheel left and in doing so, had turned into the headlights of the onrushing bikes. Two bikes became a mangled twisted decoration of the Caddy’s grill. The helmeted riders flew along the hood and into the windshield. Before the Caddy driver could get the fabled image of life flashing before his eyes...it was game over.

Animal witnessed the melee in his mirrors just before Heather decided she was a trail bike, taking to the air across a drain gully, barely clearing with the front tire. The rear tire landed partially on the ledge and forward momentum pushed Heather out into the desert.

Animal turned to see three more sport bikes go down; one high siding and sliding into the roadside ditch, two others didn't make the leap, impacting straight into the side. The resulting effect looked as if some lunatic farmer was planting wheels. Animal's innate sense of wit popped the question, “I wonder if that counts as a bumper crop?” Before his subconscious could respond with a retort, Animal rolled the throttle open wide and hauled ass over the barren desert.

The harsh terrain was giving Animal a fighting chance of escape. Heather’s rugged frame, born from decades of dirt and board-track racing was sufficient enough to handle the strain; the factory had built her well. The pursuing plastic-covered rice-rockets could not hold up to that kind of abuse. Animal noted that the remaining four riders didn't even attempt it. They headed down the road looking for a pathway leading in his direction.

Animal saw a trail heading up between the mountains ahead and steered Heather toward it. Downshifting and letting Heather’s ample torque pull them up the mountainside, he spotted an old mine entrance. Rolling in just enough to be out of sight, he shut off the bike and set her on her kickstand.
Turning to his ashen-faced passenger, he could see the fear in Kathy’s eyes. He realized growling at her wasn't gonna help. After taking a minute to breathe and give her a chance to regain some composure Animal calmly asked, "Are you ready to tell me what the hell is going on?"

Kathy wailed, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, so, so sorry! I didn't mean to get you mixed-up in all this."

"Just what is all this?" questioned Animal as he pointed outside. "Why are all those people after you?"

"The riders you saw are computer chip smugglers. I was catching a ride from a guy I knew, and we were just supposed to be going on a long cruise. When we stopped at that rest area you met me at, I had opened his backpack to get a drink when I saw computer chips stamped 'Classified - Government Property'. The leader of the group saw me and pulled a gun. I ran into the bushes to get away. They all started running after me, so I jumped down a rocky ledge and found a hiding spot. That's when I realized that I still had the backpack in my hand. Two of the group passed by almost on top of me and I heard them screaming that they needed to find the bag because they were supposed to meet the buyer today. They searched all morning, then I heard them arguing that I must have doubled back and could have gotten a ride into town. At that point, they all ran to their bikes and took off toward town. Later when you pulled in, I wasn't sure if you were the buyer they had been waiting for. That's why I lied to you."

For a very brief moment Animal thought back over the day and wondered if somehow he had accidentally ingested some peyote for breakfast and this was just a bad trip. The pain in his aching back from the gut-busting ride told him that no, this was real.

Animal had dealt with smugglers when he was still a customs agent; he knew too well the lengths they would go to avoid being caught. This was a dangerous game of cat and mouse he had stumbled into. Animal got a mischievous gleam in his eye and thought too bad for kitty because this particular mouse had a nasty bite.

Looking over at Kathy he tossed her pack of smokes and calmly asked her to stay put while he went out to assess the surroundings. Stepping out of the mine into the exposed mountainside he looked over the desert below, two separate dust plumes below told him the four riders had paired off and took different paths. He could see that at least one pair had found the old mining road and would soon be heading up his way.

Animal decided that it would be rude of him not to be a gracious host and prepare a welcome. Heading back into the mine he opened his saddlebag and pulled out a leather pouch. Untying the knotted string the contents unrolled to reveal a silver gilded pommel of a custom made bowie knife. Animal reflected for an instant that it had been 5 years since the blade had seen daylight. The custom hilted knife had been a gift from a grateful family that had been threatened by drug-runners. Animal had saved the mother and daughter from being shot in a firefight. Shot in the thigh he had still managed to kill two attackers with his bare hands. The resulting wound from the firefight forced him to early retirement. Extreme cold or humidity always gave a noticeable limp in his gait. Still, he'd gladly pay the price again anytime to save a woman or child. Unsheathing the blade Animal heard Kathy gasp in shock. Attaching the scabbard to his belt he walked over to her and spoke in a soft tone, “Don’t worry, I will get us through this”.

Kathy looked and saw the Machiavellian twinkle in his eyes and his quiet confidence. She somehow knew the pursuing killers had just picked a fight they had no clue how to win.

Animal retrieved a 50 foot roll of stainless steel multi-strand cable, ten times as strong as the best test fishing line ever devised and just as thin. He pulled out a custom purpose built multi-tool and it's nylon-leather constructed sheath and attached it to the inside of his vest. The last item from the collection was a telescoping nightstick, which, when collapsed fit into his left boot’s sewn in holster. Animal carried no gun; he stopped carrying when he retired. Too many mothers’ sons had met their (deserved) express ticket to hell at the end of his desert eagle. Remembering that it had been his job didn't always make it easier to sleep at night. Animal didn't particularly like killing, but had no compunctions when it was necessary for survival. Then there was days like today...when they came out shooting first.

Animal was making reservations for the sport riders. Lucifer was gonna gain few more arrivals today. Hope he's got his furnace warmed up, thought Animal.

Stepping out from the entrance once again, Animal headed down the trail away from the mine. 1500 feet down the mountain he found the place to spring his trap. Towering saguaro cactuses flanked both sides of the mining path. Tying the steel filament across the roadway just above handle bar height would certainly do the trick. Animal walked 100 feet back up the road, paused to light a smoke and waited for his guests.

The yapping cylinders of the oncoming riders gained in intensity as they saw Animal standing in the road casually smoking a cigarette. Furious at his audacity, both riders downshifted and poured on the fuel. Twin helmets went sailing out over the desert air as the headless bikers and their whining mounts flew forward and exploded on impact with the boulders along the trail.

Animal surveyed the carnage and knew the smoke and flames would be seen for miles. He knew he had gotten off easy with the first pursuers. He wouldn't be so lucky with the remaining two. He knew they would be aggressive in their approach. Heading back into the mine, Animal told Kathy it was time to go.

Rolling in second gear, taking advantage of the engine’s braking power, they headed down the opposite side of the mountain. From this vantage point on the trail, Animal and Kathy could see police cars arriving at the highway wreckage.

A sudden flash of yellow off to his right warned Animal that the remaining two riders had found them. He leaped onto the highway from the dirt road that paralleled the highway. The sport bikes rapidly closed the gap. Flanking Animal on both sides, the rider to his left reached for his holster and started to pull out his gun. The one on his right pulled in close and tried to grab Animal’s forearm. Before Animal could react, Kathy pulled his knife from its sheath, swung the blade wide and brought it down on the grabby biker’s neck. The bike veered off crashing in a whirl of dust and gravel. The left side rider pulled out to the left and thinking they had no weapons opened his faceplate to better sight his nine millimeter. He leaned in closer to look Animal in the eyes before he killed him. Lining up the shot, he was shocked to see Animal look back at him and smile deviously. Before he could pull the trigger, Animal reached and pulled the nightstick out of his boot and shoved it into the front wheel, sending a flaming yellow comet cart wheeling end over end down Main Street.

Animal downshifted and brought Heather to a sliding stop. A lone rider was sitting on his bike in the middle of the street. A sheriff’s car was parked next to it. While revving his engine and taking a long hard look at Animal, the rider spun his mount around and headed away out of town. The sheriff turned on his blues and started heading in Animal’s direction.
Animal looked over his shoulder and quietly said to Kathy "This goes higher up and deeper than we thought, and it isn’t over yet." Spurring Heather into gear they headed out across the desert.

Little Jimmy

Batman folded the leather vest and placed it carefully over the package in his dusty, well-worn saddlebag, pulling the leather straps tight and clasping the buckle. Lost in thought, he was not aware of the time spent just staring at the dirty shop floor. It was going to be a bittersweet day. The events that were to take place in a couple of hours made his chest feel heavy, for while proud to do so, he wished the need would never arise.

Grasping a faded vest down from the hanger he carefully checked it over. The memories this particular vest brought forward were tangible in his hands. Only worn for occasions such as today's, the names embroidered were all crisp and perfectly stitched and stood in stark contrast to the weathered patch on the back. Names forever etched in his psyche. Today a new name will be added to this roster. A place of dubious honor. The price of admission to this "roll of honor" always came at too steep a price. The scars and nightmares that paid the cost of membership would last a lifetime for the inductee.

Putting on the vest Batman allowed himself a moments respite to gather his courage. Glancing at his bike, giving it a once-over look, satisfied that all was in order, he swung a leg over and brought it to life. Today this chariot of chrome and steel would announce to all the world: a new member is part of this international organization. He rolled out onto the street, settled back on the seat and headed toward the designated meeting place.

A hundred riders waited for his arrival. Some were members long before the existence of the patch, some were relatives or friends of inductees and some were there as patch holders on the premise of never having to add another member.

This organization had the distinction of never wanting to exist, and all who belonged would gladly burn their patch if the club's charter would no more have relevance.

Arriving at the staging area Batman watched as the members all gathered in formation for the upcoming ride. Pride filled his stature as he heard the thunderous roar of iron horses come to life. The ground trembled. A sound that would soon announce to the inductee: you are safe now.

And to the one who caused the price of admission.......Beware!

Jimmy stood on the lawn next to his mother, clutching a torn and tattered teddy bear stained with far too many tears and quietly holding sorrowful guard. This Bear's six-year mission of being the only defense in the world for the boy would soon be joined in force a thousandfold.

In the stillness of morning a rumble grew in power and proximity. Jimmy's mother gently squeezed her son's hand and whispered in his ear, "This is all just for you," and pointed in the distance.

Jimmy's eyes grew wide as the road filled with motorcycles as far as he could see. Waving to him and parking in a circle around his yard the riders dismounted, smiling, and all gathered in front of Jimmy and his mother.

Batman stepped forward with the contents of his saddlebag. Jimmy opened the brightly wrapped package to reveal a helmet custom-painted with his name on the front and a painting of the patch that all the riders in front of him wore. Custom-fitted just for him, he eagerly placed it on his head, his hair falling over his forehead. Batman gently brushed his leathered hand across the boy's face and tucked it under.

Batman unfolded the small vest in his hands and placing it on Jimmy's shoulders, said to him, "You are one of us now. You no longer have anything to fear. We will always be here for you."

Seeing this interaction between the giant bear of a man that is Batman and little Jimmy, who barely grew taller than his kneecap brought those in attendance to near tears.

Jimmy could barely contain his glee when asked if he was ready for his first ride. Proudly sporting his Bikers Against Child Abuse (BACA) patch, Jimmy rode with Batman, leading the formation towards his brighter, new destiny.

Midnight Flight

"Oh shit! Hubby's home!" yelled the sweet young nymph that Spider had met at the local watering hole.

Spider glanced out the window and saw the headlights of the white 4 door sedan pulling into the driveway. The realization that it had a box of lights on the roof didn't exactly make him want to stay around for a chat. "What the hell, you're married, to a patrol cop?" exclaimed Spider.

"No, he's the Chief," replied Dawn.

Jumping into his boots and pulling up his pants which had been left fireman-style just for these kind of unforeseen situations, Spider stumbled for the back door, knocking loose all the knick-knacks and memorabilia that had been set on the shelf in the hallway entrance. His hyperactive brain briefly made note of the fact that they were all awards for marksmanship. "Shit!" thought Spider, "What a way to make a bad situation worse."

Jumping on his chopper from the last step out the back door, he landed square on the seat, a lot harder than he intended. "Talk about getting blue balls," he winced to himself.

Jamming his leg down on the kick start the bike roared to life. In his haste, his foot slipped off and the lever came smashing up with a sudden crack to his shin. Screaming in rage and pain he twisted the throttle and popped the clutch. Popping an unintended wheelie, his tall custom-made sissy bar hit the ground and dragged the whole length of the driveway out on to the street. Rolling off the throttle brought the Avon back to the pavement.

Spider snapped the shifter into the next gear while glancing behind him to see the "Chief" hauling ass out the front door with a shotgun. A loud blast solidified his urgency. Knowing that if caught, his bike would certainly be impounded and if he made it to jail, his long-kept secret would be known. His deception would break their hearts.

Spider had once made a promise to his folks that he wouldn't ride anymore. The long history of his old escapades on bikes doing jumps and many a month spent in the hospital made the old folks jittery whenever they heard a burbling twin. For years he still rode but kept the bike out of site in a 'Bro's' garage.

Cresting the top of what the locals call Jacob's Ladder, the bike sailed airborne. When it landed, the tires howled in protest, and the next step in the ladder launched the screaming mechanized comet skyward again.

The seven hills started to take their toll on 'Liz's' hardtail frame.

At the base of the hill Spider downshifted and stood on the rear binder. The 12 inch over girder flexed and twisted as Spider slid a wide left to shoot down a narrow alley. The fat rear tire made a staccato beat as it rubbed along a wooden fence. Shooting upright as the bike straightened out, he repeated the trick each time at every intersection. Gaining distance with every turn, Spider looked for the quickest way out of town.

Spider felt rather than heard the bikes backbone bend as he leveled out on the straightaway leading towards the salvation of a bridge crossing the river in the distance. The city's skyline was in view. "Come on, baby hold together for me," he exhorted his wailing mount. Doing well over the posted double nickle, the last hurdle to his escape was in sight. The siren's scream fading away amplified 'Liz's' howling anguish. Reaching the last obstacle to his freedom, Spider twisted the bike's throttle hard enough to bend the handle bars.

Had they been standing on the bridge that night, the Wright brothers would've thought that flight had already been mastered seeing the black banshee leap from the summit.

Landing in a screeching shower of protesting drag pipes, Spider's knees, which had formed a vice grip on the bike's frame, smacked the bottom on the coffin tank ripping the fabric of his jeans from his kneecaps and blood rapidly filled his old boots.

Bringing 'Liz' back to a slower pace, the rear tire chattered on the pavement telling Spider that 'completely round' was no longer one of the features of his rim. The chattering clutch rattled to him its tale of woe. The oil pressure light glared on as he made the last turn into the open door of Roach's shop. Making her final effort, the overstressed twin seized tight and abruptly fell silent.

Roach, standing at his workbench, raised an eyebrow and uttered, "What the hell is going on?"

Spider watched as 'Liz' broke apart to the shop floor and replied with a wink, "I'm just fulfilling a promise."

A Bad Day?

"Watch your head," said the officer as I was being shoved into the back of the cruiser. Contemplating how I ended up in this mess was just making my headache even worse, and watching the hamfisted kid loading my bike on his truck wasn't helping.

How did I end up here? Well, that's gonna take some explaining. There really is something called the Harley Davidson Mystique; sometimes you just don't see it coming.

It started simple enough, taking a cross country trip to relax and get away from it all. Just me and my girl, a Harley named Stephanie. Cruising the back roads of Iowa, passing the cornfields and country lanes. When I spotted a little cafe just up the road, I pulled in for a good ol' hearty breakfast. A dozen bikes were parked in front, and a club prospect was motioning for me to park next to a nice custom FLH.

Dismounting and heading in to the cafe, the bike club's sergeant-at-arms opened the door and welcomed me in. "You in town for the poker championship?" he asked. "Didn't even know you had one, just passing through." I replied.

Seeing what he thought was an easy mark, the road captain of the club responded, "There's a grand prize of $500 with only a $10 buy-in. Simple five card stud with jokers wild". Musing that I was a fairly good player with a decent shot of winning some much needed green prompted me to abandon my good sense and agree to sit for a few hands.

I managed to win a quite a few hands and was up $200 when common sense returned and I elected to get out while I was ahead. As you would expect, this didn't sit well with the other players.

You would have thought the patch-holders looked like a horde of marines storming the beach on D-Day when they started after me. The waitress who was simply curious about all the ruckus came out of the kitchen; lucky for me the closest of my pursuers tripped over her and then his followers fell on him like dominoes, which gave me time to haul ass out the door.

The club's prospect was heading in as I was going out. I bowled him over with a right hook and jumped on "Stephanie". Spinning dirt and gravel, I hit the road doing about eighty.

Winding that V-twin for all she was worth put me well over a hundred and a few miles from the cafe in no time flat. In the rapidly approaching distance, I saw what appeared to be a dust storm blowing accross the road.

What felt like a million hot BB's stung me as I rode into it. Katydids swarming over the fields had soaked the bike and myself; a nasty, green, gooey mess covered everything.

The heat of the engine baked the slop hard and tight, clogging the air-cooling fins of the cylinders and oil filter. Overheating almost instantly, "Steph" siezed up and busted A-rod, scattering hot oil and fragments all over my jeans.

The rear tire screeched in protest of the sudden lockup of the grenading motor. Road grit filled my torn Levi's, branding my ass with the hot oil and metal as we slid along the dirt for nearly a thousand feet. When the entire mangled mess finally came to a stop in a cloud of smoke and dust, the bike and I looked like refugees from a tornadoed trailer park.

Just when I thought things couldn't possibly get any worse. An old biddy on a golf cart rode by smirking, and yelled over at me, "Nice job there, Mr Motorcycle!" cackling to herself and continued on down the road. The distant siren drawing closer told me this day wasn't gonna get better anytime soon.

A random thought occurred to me that if I would've just gone to Hollister or Salinas, I'd have been sitting on a stool drinking a cold beer right about now.

The brief pause inside my head was interuppted by the officer's voice. "How did you find yourself gliding along the gravel on this fine sunny day?" Before I could reply the officer held up a hand and contiued, "Connie called me from the cafe and told me all about what went down." pulling me upright the cuffs were applied instantly. "Let's go, hotshot".

The cruiser hit the highway and started to head away from town. "I thought the county cell was in town?" I grunbled. "Who said anything about jail? You do something I don't already know about?" Figuring discretion being the better part of valor, I kept my tongue in check and sat silently, wondering what the hell else today had in store for me.

It turns out, Officer Wendy is a biker chick who owns her own hog named LadyR, and rides a lot of miles with her sister Connie the waitress. So, here I am stuck in this hot tub with the two sisters drinking a cold one and getting "special" treatment of my road rash. Also, it turns out the hamfisted baby brother owns a bike shop and "Steph" is being rebuilt for free in time for the three of us to ride up to Farmington, MN for the Bottoms Up Rally.

On top of all that, I'm still ahead $200.

Idle thoughts flew through my brain...can I really call this a bad day?!

"Becca's" Last Ride

Desert winds had gently unearthed the sand encrusted handlebars of "Becca", the worn chrome glistened in the early morning sun. Long buried and lost, "Becca" awakened from her dusty dreams. A voice carried over the boulders and scrub, the cadence of the sounds brought forth the long ago memories of how she came to be enshrined in a dry riverbed.
The day of Sept 2, 1972 is forever etched in her memory. It was the day that Art (Silver Fox) Valdez had first walked into the showroom of the Harley dealership in Glendale, AZ. The die had been cast, set in sweat, blood, leather and steel.

When friends were met and many adventures taken, Silver Fox's easy laugh and her contented rhythm were always paired. When attention was needed, he was always at her side, tending to her. Washing and waxing her, she always looked sharp.

When he met a lovely young woman at a social dance, she did not react in jealousy. It was understood his affection for her wouldn't change. The woman destined to be his wife would come to revere "Becca", as well. The honeymoon ride to the Bradshaw mountains was a testament to "Becca's" power and sure-footed ability. Silver Fox's riding abilities were legend. For the two week stay, many miles forged a bond for the (now) three.

Fast-moving storm clouds gathering over the horizon soon brought the need to return to "civilization". The delay in packing for the trip out gave the rain time to arrive. "Becca" labored mightily against the muddy slick trails down the mountains. Over ruts and gullies deeper and more treacherous by the minute; Silver Fox's skills, taxed to the limit, were not enough. Only "Becca's" pride and steadfast loyalty kept her upright.

The distant rumblings of rushing water rapidly closing in, she redoubled her efforts to gain traction and torque. At a quarter mile from the interstate, the race was lost. In the final moments she pitched over a gully and tossed her riders off to higher ground. The raging waters claimed her as a prize.

Silver Fox and his new bride had stumbled to the highway from the safety of higher ground. Both knew only a supernatural effort had made this possible. In the years to come the tale of "Becca's" herculean last ride was oft repeated to friends and family. Every anniversary the grateful couple would hike out to the last known spot and toast a drink to her honor. A long standing ritual of twenty-nine years.

On the thirtieth year, a family reunion was held at the spot. they regaled their grandchildren with the story of the family legend. Christian and Jayden, their oldest grandsons, walked to a small rise overlooking the wash. A flash of chrome winked in the dusty, dry wash below.

"Look Grandpa!"

The Rider - Chapter 6: Fables

David walked up the counter and sat down on a well worn stool, looking around the diner. Noting that nothing in the diner was newer than the 1950's, even the calendars on the wall still said 1952 under an advertisement extolling the virtues of the new foot shifter and hand clutch option available for the Harley-Davidson Hydra-glide Panhead of ‘52.

As he reached for the menu clipped to a condiment tray, he realized that although the parking lot was full of cars and trucks, the diner was empty besides himself and the waitress. He briefly wondered to himself that maybe the other people were behind the diner and he just hadn't seen them…or perhaps they rode off in some tour bus to sightsee.

He glanced at the menu while motioning to the waitress who had retreated to the back of the counter near the rear entrance. She didn't even glance up and seemed to him that she was purposely ignoring him. He chuckled to himself at the absurdity of it as he was the only customer in the joint. He spoke up, “Excuse me, can I put an order in?” She didn't reply. David wasn't sure if she just hadn't heard him or he was just being ignored. He repeated himself in a louder tone…No response. He stood up and walked the length of the counter to where she was standing and tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention. As he did so he noticed that she seemed trancelike, her skin was cold as ice... still she gave no response. David smacked his hand forcefully on the counter yelling, “Hey! Do you hear me?” as he watched for a reply, she faded into smoke and disappeared. While at the same time the diner was reverting into its old state of disrepair.

Momentarily stunned by what he had just witnessed, he stood blankly staring at the surroundings. The cars and trucks in front of the diner faded away. He could see his bike leaning on its side stand out in the now otherwise empty parking lot. The storm was gathering strength over the diner; the clouds swirled into a vortex and created the resemblance of an ancient fortress. The sky above and around the diner then grew more ominous and black...the air inside fell still with a sudden abruptness. From the desert a single breeze had started to drift across the gravel and seemed to him to settle on his bike. Unbidden, the ridiculous thought came to him: It appears like it's checking out my bike. Then his ears heard what sounded like the wind howling franticly: “David?”

“Okay, I got it, I'm dreaming,” said David aloud. “I just gotta wake up. It's gotta be the stress from sleeping under that overpass last night. I gotta stop working so many hours. Maybe it's paint fumes from the garage attached to the house, I'll check the cans when I wake...I'm home in bed...just gotta wake up...” At the same time he knew...this was no dream. Bizarre as it may be, it was too real; the air was too crisp, the smells too clear,
the feel of his surroundings too solid to be a dream. Then there was the feeling of severe deja vue.

But still what he was seeing and hearing couldn’t possibly be real. He started to run towards the door and got no closer to the entrance, as hard as he ran it was as if he was on a treadmill going nowhere. He screamed out in frustration...the sound didn't travel, it just fell from his lips around him. “Is this what the beginning of insanity is like?” thought David. “No,” replied his subconscious, “you know what this is,” Long forgotten memories drifted to him slowly. His mind took him back in time to when he was young....He remembered his grandfather and his dad talking about old legends; the Riders. At the time he was hearing those stories he knew instinctively that they were not mere fables. How he knew that was never really clear to him, but as he listened he always seemed aware that he knew more details than the narrative was telling, almost as if the knowledge was hardwired into his psyche. It was if he had actually been there once. But, as the years passed since, he had begun to convince himself that he had heard the stories when he was much younger and was just remembering details from then. Now it became clear to him......they weren't fables.

Knowledge flooded back into his consciousness. He knew who he really was...and his true calling. Instinct took over and he whirled around to see what had been the back entrance....was now opening to another dimension. The sudden clarity of his mind forced David into action.

Yasuda! ...He can't be allowed into this plane. The only access for him is with a connection to a still-mortal Rider. “But,” he thought, “if I am not on this plane he can't break through.”

He dove into the portal...

The Rider - Chapter 5: Yasuda

"What the hell do you mean David's disappeared?" exclaimed D pounding his fist on the table in emphasis.
A-rod jumped to his feet and yelled "How do you lose somebody...I thought you see all?"
The Boss replied "Look guys, you know how this works...I just oversee this Earth....I'm not in charge of the whole universe. I don't make the rules... I just make sure that 'natural' laws are followed and prevent undue influence by outside forces. My job is to make sure that free will is paramount and to let events here take their own course."
"I'd have to say you're doing a pretty shitty job of it, if you can't even keep track of one man." replied Kingpin.
"If this is the kind of overseeing you do...that sure explains a lot of this royally screwed up planet's history!" yelled A-rod.
"Apparently you can't even do that, as you somehow lost my grandson! Good job." said D sarcastically. "Can you even tell us what happened?"

The 'Breeze', after notifying the 'Boss', flew quickly to tell her Elemental friends what had just occurred. She found them gathered together at the base of a mountain. V, Julie and Shannon were tending to the south side. Earth would toss up various colored minerals and Fire would bake them onto the rock face. Then Water would cool them down to set. This was part of their day to day duties in the southwest, and was one of the most enjoyed, ensuring the various shades of color known as the Painted Desert would always be there for future generations to enjoy. "It's about time you arrived; we could have used your help getting the minerals blown higher up on the cliffs." said Julie. "We need to get up to the boss's place, there is an emergency...David is missing." replied Ann. Without questioning or delay the three elements joined with Breeze. To Air, Fire was added, then Water, and Earth. The combination produced a small but powerful tornado, which then lifted up into the sky. The whirlwind descended onto the boss's cloud and the dissipated back into its separate elements. "Let's go" said V.

The four Elements, called Breeze/Air (Ann), Fire (Julie), Water (V) and Earth (Shannon), entered the room. Ann went straight over to D and said, "What I saw was not natural to this world. It was like a hole in space had materialized in the sky over that diner. David's not on that plane of existence anymore. He has passed out of his space and time".
D jumped up, grabbed the table and flung it across the room. It tore through the walls and out to infinity. "How is that even possible?"
The rage in the three Riders eyes was clear enough to melt diamonds. Kingpin, who had stood up at the arrival of the women, was unconsciously squeezing the back of the heavy wooden chair he had just vacated. The wood shattered into powder.
A-rod stamped his foot in fury and splintered the entire marble floor into fragments.
"It's not supposed to be possible. Something or someone is altering the fabric of light and gravity, creating a doorway through dimensions. And we need to find out whom, how and more importantly... Why?" replied the Boss.
Julie spoke up and said, "Mortals are at least a century away from this kind of technology…and even then, not on this scale. That means someone from our side of the realm has to be doing it."
V said "Why David? Is it random or by design?"
"It can't be Random. There's too much work involved for it to be accidental. David had to have been the target." said Shannon.
Julie said, "If David is the target…why and for what? Who stands to gain from David's absence?"
"If we can figure out the answer to that question ...Then we'll know where to start." said Kingpin.
"David has no enemies on this side...there's no point. His life doesn't affect our realm". said V.
"Ah...but he does. His life is tied to everyone in this room. What concerns him affects us." replied Ann.
"Ok then…who would gain by our being affected or distracted?" said Julie.
"You can't affect the laws or power of the Elements. Their mandate is absolute and unchangeable. And any coercion would only affect the earthbound plane. And, since each one of the Elementals only controls the geographical area they are assigned...to affect a change you would have to gather the power of all the thousands of Elementals worldwide. And also, since you four are the only ones seemingly connected, that rules you out for being the target." said The Boss. "Which leaves you three," he said, referring to the Riders. And who would stand to gain by your absence? It can only be... Yasuda!"

Yasuda's name was well known by all in the room; he had been a legendary warrior at the beginning of history and upon his death in battle had become one of the first immortal Riders.
Choosing, instead of honor, to turn against his kind; he was banished from the realm, vowing one day to return and reign over all, and making all Riders his sworn enemies.

"He knows that as long we exist, our presence would prevent him from altering events to his own agenda, he could not succeed. But, if he stops David, it will break the succession of Riders who come after us. He also knows that we would pursue and stop him." said A-rod forcefully.
Kingpin responded by clenching his fists and exclaiming, "He's laying a trap for us!"