Dallion 7th
It had just became dusk when a small
electric car stopped at a red light. It was the final intersection at the
corner of a small town, on the outskirts of a major urban City. Ahead laid a
long stretch of road, that lead through the rock and grass rolled hills,
extending some 20 miles to the next small town. A man named Matsu stepped out
the car door, and thanked the driver for the ride.
As
he strolled past a couple of small stores, he came upon a long dirt driveway
with an old weathered sign, ‘Omar’s Cycle Salvage.’ He began his long
walk up the driveway, staring ahead at the large old barn rising up from the
dead grassy hill. Matsu was glad to see Omar had managed to keep the salvage
yard and shop, besides all the neighbors’ complaints of noise from the biker
scene. Omar still kept that funny ole motorcycle, rusting away on the roof.
There
was a tall garden of a dozen dead sunflowers. Matsu chuckled to himself at
the funny scarecrow motorcycle rider, with worn and tattered leathers, boots
and gloves, wearing an old silly style helmet that was popular with riders
back in the beginning of the millennium.
Above
the barn door, a wooden sign hung from the awning, squeaking in the breeze, it
read, ‘Omar’s Custom Bikes and Paint’, and in smaller words ‘Money
talks- BS walks’ written underneath. Inside was an elaborate shop, where
many old and new bike projects were under way. Omar’s personal rocket bike
looked finally completed awesomely painted and ready to rip. Over at the bench
stood Omar, sparking away on the grinding wheel. He was big and tall, with a
slick shaved head, and a patch over one eye. An ill reminder of his younger
days, when a night of hustling turned to a pool room brawl, one of the many
times he almost died.
And
there at the tire machine, was X racer Edgar his hired hand, and that was all
he had was one hand, loosing his palm and all his fingers, while dragging a
rag across a running motors chain.
And
of course there was Omar’s daughter Nishi at her desk, still slaving away,
always looking her best. She was so hot, just like how he remembered her in
his thoughts. She was eating chocolate mints, and yelling arguing with the computers
monitor's talking screen. Nishi was so fine, and looking better than ever, and so serene.
She was tall and thin, and no one had the heart to tell her, pig tales were
never a trend. One day some Romeo will sweep her away, from the clinches of
the evil father King. She was wearing something new, a shimmering golden
bracelet of a snake with red ruby eyes, coiled around her wrist. She was off
limits, as far as Daddy Omar was concerned. If he caught you looking her way,
he would stare you down. He guarded Nishi like she was the world
treasure, and perhaps she was. For she was all he had, ever since his
wife left him for another man. So you could kind of understand.
Omar
stopped grinding and suddenly noticed Matsu, standing in the doors of his
shop. “Oh my God! Look what the wind blew in! It’s Matsu! Your back like
a ghost from the dead. Edgar limped over with his ever worsening hunchback,
smiled with his missing teeth, to shake hands with his hook. Nishi smiled and
winked, as she pranced over with a big hug. Matsu complemented her on her
beautiful bracelet, and asked where she got it. Omar with his one good eye
stared him down, shrinking his big smile to a slit of a frown.
Omar
replied, “I bought that bracelet from some old peasant thief, when we were
in Morocco last year. It was stolen from an Iraq museum some time ago. It was
once worn by an Egyptian Pharaoh God. Hey Edgar! What was his name?“
Edgar
had turned away and limped towards the work bench shaking his head, he
answered, “Horus! It was suppose to be Horus, that falcon headed guy.”
Omar
yelled over to Edgar, “What do you mean suppose to be? You were with me when
I bought it, we both agreed it was authentic. Edgar turned his head and said,
“If you remember we were both pretty high at the time.“
Nishi
interrupted as Omar was starting to get a little agitated, “It ‘s cool! I
wear it all the time. I love it!”
Matsu
smiled at Omar and gave him a brothers hand shake, “You must be doing pretty
good around here lately, I noticed
your gold chain necklace has gained alota weight. And a trip to
Omar
answered, “I won this chain along with some money on a bet, that‘s all!”
He then handed Matsu a warm axle spacer, saying, “You’ve been on
vacation, now get your butt back to work. Grind that to one inch, and fit that
wheel on that bike over there. You still owe me big, for the wrecked Diablo
bike.”
Edgar
hollered, “You shoulda seen Omar’s face, that night when the tow truck
driver brought in the Diablo all smashed up.“
Omar
with a dirty look towards Edgar, then asked Matsu, “I‘m sure it
would’ve been all over, if you had been a registered donor. Now did you
learn anything after redlining and fleeing the heat? Highsiding and flatlining,
almost gruesomely dying in the street? Did you learn not to run? Did you spend
the past fours years in the joint,
sitting on your seat? You should be happy you’re free, and thank God you can
still walk on your two feet.”
Matsu
smirked, feeling as though he didn’t need a lecture. He knew Omar meant
well, it was just his attitude that always stunk. “Omar I didn’t serve
time in the joint. I served time for our country on a military mining mission
on Jupiters moon.
Omar
laughed, “I’ve heard that before. Don’t even try that on me, You shoulda
stayed with, You were in the joint. I’ve heard every excuse around here. Oh but I would
have paid you back by now, but I was captured by space aliens and have been
imprisoned on the Martian planet as a slave worker for the past year and I
just got back in town. Trust me I’ll pay you back as soon as I find a job."
Matsu
looked down, “Well I haven’t got my paycheck yet, you know how slow the
military is on paying.”
“Well
where ever you've been, I’ll warn ya not many succeed in evading the law
anymore in this city, that’s a thing of the past. You have to know where you
can speed in that’s only in the country these days. Removing the satellite chip
from your bike doesn’t help. The streets are now saturated with laser traps
and eye cams. They now have law enforcing Interceptor Robos that are designed,
and programmed just for the purpose of capturing outlaw motorists. There are
new laws being enforced every day. You know they banned fuels. Now only
electric nano and cold fusion cells are allowed on bikes. It won’t be much longer
before the nation completely bans motorcycles. But for now, they are
thoroughly enjoying using their new technologies against urban speeding law
breakers.”
Edgar
fought the tire machine as he worked to remove a tire, he chimed in, “Except
for the class ‘A’ citizens, they get to speed all they want. They get all
the brakes. They don’t go to Morocco for a vacation, they can take a trip
anywhere in the world they what to go.”
Omar
stood blocking Matsu from the grinder and explained, “The only place anyone
races anymore is our Pastor valley’s stretch of road. We’ve been racing
from right out front, to the outer stretch’s five mile mark. Some gal
calling herself CudaCuda remains undefeated and has beaten our club to
shame. The rumor has gotten around, and everybody’s calling her the ‘The
Highway Princess of Hell.’ We’ve lost over a half a dozen of our members
racing her out there.I think she’s more like the Highway Princess of
Death”
Matsu
was astonished, “What? You mean our club, all the Horseman, have been losing
race’s to some fast chick?”
Edgar
had started mounting a fresh rubber tire and added, “Omar’s brother Red
was first to race her, and he has never been back or seen again.”
Omar
raised his voice, “Hell! He bailed, just like the others. They can’t show
their face around here, they owe me big. Just like you Matsu, they all owe me
money. I build bikes to be fast, and capable of beating any machine out there.
My bikes will out run Interceptor Robos, if you had to. Though I suppose you
still have to know how to ride. You know Matsu? I knew you'd return wanting
your old job back, that one day when you realized you need a bike again. If
you want to pay me back for some of that money you owe me, then you need to
race Cuda. I’m willing to front the cash for the bet and front the fastest bike on
the planet. I know you’ll dust her, and you need to set her into humiliation
just for the records. Make her wish she never started racing. You need to do it for the
sake of the Iron Horseman and all our reputations. How about it?
I’ll set it up for tonight, before the big storm hits. Edgar you can start
super charging the thermo induction on the fusion cells. You know MatsuI have found a way to
make fusion machines, faster than rocket bikes. Of course if you need some
time to think about it.“
Matsu’s
blood began to pump, he felt his adrenaline glands tingle, his race face
twitch, his throttle hand swell, and his clutch fingers itch. “I’ll do it!
I know it’s been awhile, I hope no ones forgot, I still remain undefeated.
Fix me up, give me that bike I’ll beat her so bad, she’ll wish she was a
red haired step child.”
Omar
stood there with a sour look, “My brother Red was a step child. Then fine,
that’s the way it’ll be, exactly what we’re gona do. I‘ll call Gabe and
arrange it right now.” Omar went into his office as ‘the Doors’ music
followed behind.
Nishi
turned around from her desk, and pleaded with Matsu not to race, “Please
don’t do it! I’m warning you. I’ve never went to any of the races, and
don’t understand exactly what’s going on out there, but Dad is not telling
you everything. There has not been just a few whom have not returned, but all
our members seemed to have just disappeared racing her out there.You’re the
only Horseman of the group left that even wants to race her. Aaron, Soldier,
and Slacker, when they raced her they knew what they could be in for,
and not one of them returned back to the finish line. I feel a bad
energy, it has to be some type of plot from another gang. Kitty’s probably
being used as bait, while they wait like assassins and plow them off the road
and they scoop up the racers leaving the wrecked bikes. Its all about them
winning the bet Omar spends a lot of cash credits on these races he can’t
afford to lose anymore. He’s probably betting the garage right now. Please Matsu, for me, tell Dad you’re not going to race, that you’re staying
clean for awhile.”
Edgar
hunched over a silk covered bike and mumbled, “You know how Omar gets
tripped out on things. He than pulled the cover off, revealing a stunning
reincarnated Diablo bike from underneath. Matsu dropped to his knees, as
tears blurred his sight. It was his old bike, better than he would have ever
imagined. Far beyond the fastest bike around that Omar and him built some time
ago. It was so phat, with a new fusion cell thermal induction system
incorporated, new gusseted high polished frame and cases. You could barely
handle the heat from the new style flames. It was bad, bad, bad, the absolute
badest, and the engine and pipe looked even badder.
Edgar
leaned over the seat and looked over his shoulder to see if Omar was coming
back in yet, and in a low voice, “Omar is on a bad karma bike thing lately.
All eleven bikes were found crashed and abandon on the stretch. Well Omar’s
the boss, and he has been having me bury the bikes around back, up on junk
hill. I have been making each a gravestone, with a dedication to each member.
It‘s real cool, you‘ll have to go up there and check it out.”
Matsu
asked, “What do you mean? Are you for real? I always felt our club was a
little lost, but what you guys are saying is eleven members completely
disappeared, gone, missing, without a trace?
And you buried their bikes six feet under in the dirt? That’s weird
man, eleven motorcycle graves? This must be some kind of joke, or some crazy
nightmare?”
Edgar
went on explaining, “Omar considers the boys no longer Horseman, and as far
as he is concerned, he never wants them to come around here again. Of coarse,
I’m sure that would all change, if they showed up with money. All the
horseman have debts to Omar, everyone owes him for parts, even their bikes.”
Omar
came back in as the wind rumbled the garage, “It is all set up out front for
tonight, get ready you’re racing Cuda at
Nishi
spoke out, “Dad! Matsu wants to tell you he’s decided not to race.”
Omar
threw his arm across Matsu’ shoulders, “Don’t you worry none son,
I’ll be right behind you on my rocket bike. I’ll be keeping a close eye on
the entire situation.”
So
the evening crept by, as Matsu helped Edgar prepared the Fusion Cells Just as
the finished connecting the super
charged thermal induction it sent sparks everywhere, and loud howl of wind
cried mary as a few big rain drops pelted the garage’s tin roof, a shocking
flash of lightening that brightened the salvage yard through the windows and
was followed by a ferocious blast of thunder. Matsu noticed it was about to
strike
Matsu
rode the Diablo out of the garage and warmed at the top of the hill reving it
like it was a roaring beast from hell. The wind had increased into howling
gusts as big splats rain threatened a big bad storm was on it’s way. Many
groups of bikes and riders had assembled at that cities last intersection at
the edge of town.
The word about the race had really got around, many gathered bets that
another Horsemen would lose ground. They traveled from far and distant near,
hoping to watch someone miss a gear. A low streamlined bike pulled up and
stopped in the middle of the intersection. The rider spotted the traffic light
eye cams above, and the windshield slid up on his bike’s faring exposing a
mounted full auto gun, it rapidly fired paintballs smothering each one.
Matsu
feeling ultimately righteous rode his exhaust flaming viciously roaring Diablo
bike down the long driveway to the corner intersection. There at the starting
line waited Omar with his rocket bike, and Edgar in the crowd taking bets.
Edgar broke away too tell Matsu, ”Nishi is up at the end of the winding
stretch, waiting for you at the finish.” He than pointed out the
competition, “That’s the Highway Princess right over there.”
Up
pulled Cudathe Cuda, an attractive Cleopatra looking lady, on her multi
color changing super bike. Dressed in tight black zipper legged leathers,
gloves, and boots. She wasn’t wearing a helmet. Her pitch black hair was
short and spiked. The crowd remained silent, as she fired up her machine, with
an intense roaring scream. Matsu wound out his revs with a ferocious whine,
as he set up alongside her on the starting line.
Cudafrom her aggressive race position, slowly glanced over at
Matsu with mean
Egyptian eyes of a cat like glare. At that last moment an old vagabond man,
stepped off the curb and advised Matsu, “Whatever you do, don’t look at
her skin, or you will forever be lost in another dimension.”
They
roared their engines as the light was red, Omar was behind looking over Cuda and was roaring to go. The light turned green, they burned miles of rubber as
they raced off into smoke swirling fog. They sped through the turns side
beside, Matsu grabbed his throttle, for everything it had. He looked over at
Cuda while tucked behind his shield, she
reached down to her leather cuff and pulled up on her pant leg zipper, where
her beautiful shapely leg was revealed. Her golden like skin seemed to glow in
the dark. Matsu almost lost it on the turn, as his peg began to spark. There
up ahead was a faint ghostly image of all the lost Horseman, watching from
their bikes alongside the road. Matsu started feeling dizzy and drifting, his
bike was losing traction and lifting. Cuda swerved towards him, riding the
absolute closest. He resisted his desire to look over, he fought his
delusions, and remained focused.
The
finish was insight and Cuda inched ahead, smoking passed him just at the
end. Cudalocked up her brakes and went back to the finish. Matsu had never
before not won, for now he had lost his only pride. With his head down low
while turning around slow, he had to return from the race, and gather his need
to save face.
Cudapulled up next to
Nishi, and with her Egyptian outlined eyes, glared with
fire red, “If you keep possession of the bracelet, more harm will come. Hand
it to me now, and the curse will be done.” Nishi realized what was
happening, and handed her the bracelet. Cudathen vanished into thin air,
leaving her bike sitting right there.
As
Matsu rode up to a rest, Nishi ran towards him excitingly, “Matsu!
She’s gone, she just disappeared! Where’s Dad? I thought he was right
behind you, watching you every move.”
Edgar
pulled up on his bike along with many others, almost out of breath,
“Where’s Omar? Were did he go,
I’ve been looking around? He’s not here he’s not there, he is nowhere to
be found!”
Matsu
pointed, “Look! Look! Look out there in the distance! Like ghosts faintly in
the dark. Can’t you see them? That’s Omar riding off with the gang!”
Everyone looked and agreed there was nothing. Matsu watched as blast of wind
swept past them, towards the departing twelve riders as they rode into the
darkness of the storm. Matsu remained pointing and stunned, “Just because
you don’t see them, doesn’t mean they’re not there.”
Nishi
told of what had just happened, how Cuda took her bracelet and just
disappeared in thin air. Edgar looked at Cuda’s bike that was left behind
saying, ”This bike has a different kind of engine, it’s is one of a kind, it
is has been made from a different type of metal, look the way it shines!”
Nishi
with tear filled eyes hugged Matsu, and instantly his feelings of a loser
were lost, as the rumbling storm clouds began dispersing drops. A huge
lightning bolt pierced the wicked cloudy sky, and thunder shook the terrain.
For up on junk hill laid eleven uncovered graves, that began to fill with
rain.
Dallion 7th