by Tom Mohan
Well, Burke thought, one less of them, and now we are going to die.
A cry of anger rose from the members of the rival gang. They revved their bikes and set them in motion, but didn’t charge the outnumbered Rebels. Instead, they moved back, out of easy gunshot range.
“I don’t like this,” Martinez said. “They should be able to run us into the ground. What are they waiting for?”
“That was a good shot. Maybe they’re afraid to come closer.”
Martinez shook his head as he continued to watch out the windshield. “No, I don’t think so. They wanted us here. Herded us here, I think.”
“Well, it looks like they’re going to sit there and wait us out,” Burke said. The other gang settled in the middle of the road about a half-mile away. “Doesn’t look like they’re going to try anything soon. Let’s go see what Tiny has to say.”
Burke shut off the engine, and the two men climbed out of the car. The heat of the desert sun beat down on them as they walked to the line of Rebel bikes and stopped beside the leader.
“Bastards,” Tiny hissed. “Killed my men, the bastards!”
Tiny still held the pistol in his lap. The model was unfamiliar to Burke, but that came as no surprise. Ever since the government eliminated most gun restrictions throughout the country, firearms of every make and size had been abundant. “Any idea who they are?” Burke asked, keeping his voice as calm as possible.
“They’re the bastards who killed my men, that’s who they are. They’re gonna pay for that.”
Burke squinted down the road. The other gang had climbed off their bikes. “Yeah, but any idea who they are?”
Tiny shrugged his massive shoulders. “Strays. Usually can’t get along with each other well enough to put together a group that size.” He shifted his bulk on the seat of his Harley. “Why didn’t they come on in and finish us?”
“Y’all don’t have to worry about them. They can’t come in here.”
As one, the entirety of the Lord’s Rebels, along with Burke and Martinez, spun at the voice. Behind them stood a man of average height and build, with a soft face and paunchy middle. He looked to be somewhere in his late forties, with flecks of gray dotting his reddish-brown hair. He stood calmly to the side of the road in front of a small gas station, smiling at them as though a gang of bikers came roaring into town every day for a nice chat. Burke half-expected the man to invite them inside for iced tea.
“Who are you?” Tiny barked.
The man’s smile never faltered. “Why, I’m Lester Norman, the mayor of this here little burg in the desert. And I gather by the names on your jackets that you are the Lord’s Rebels? Welcome to our humble town, ladies and gentlemen.”
Nothing about the mayor fit the scene. The southern accent he spoke with seemed out of place in the Arizona desert, as was the politeness he showed a gang of total strangers. He was almost a caricature of old-fashioned manners. Martinez and Burke shared a long glance, and then turned their attention back to Tiny, who was removing his bulk from the seat of his Harley. Tiny looked out across the desert at the gang that awaited them, and then back at Lester Norman, the mayor of this here little burg. “Exactly why can’t they come in here?” he asked, indicating the mass of bikers down the road.
“Well now, that’d be a long story. One you may or may not be interested in. The important thing is that you are safe here.” The smile never left his face.
Martinez took a couple slow steps toward Lester Norman, hands held out to indicate he meant no harm. “Thank you for welcoming us,” he said.
Burke saw Tiny glare at Martinez for interrupting, but the Rebel leader said nothing.
“We were simply passing by when that gang out there began chasing us. Killed a couple of our friends.”
Lester Norman smiled and nodded his head, as if Martinez were telling him about a fine ride in the country.
“Any idea why they chased us?”
The mayor rubbed his hands together, the smile still plastered to his face. “All sorts of bad people roaming around out here. Yes sir, all sorts. They can’t come in here, though. No sir, not in here. Some of them try, though. Yes, some of them try.”
“How many people do you have here, Mayor?” Burke asked.
The mayor’s smile widened. “Why, we have twenty-two as of last census. Yes sir, twenty-two folks.” He laughed as though he had said something funny. “As of last census, I said. We take a census weekly to see how many folks we have. Some come, some go. Have to stay up-to-date. Yes sir, have to stay up-to-date.”
“The road we came in on didn’t look like anyone had come or gone on it in a long time,” Tiny said.
“Oh yes, the road. You’re right, of course. Not many come or go by the road. No sir, not many that way.”
Red’s voice came to Burke, like a whisper in his mind. Beware everything, John Burke.
He was still furious with the girl, but the advice sounded pretty good. He leaned over to Martinez and passed the message on. Martinez nodded, his eyes never leaving Mayor Norman.
“Come, gentlemen,” the mayor continued. “Bring your lady friends and come into our town. We have refreshments for visitors such as yourselves.”
Martinez stepped in close to Tiny. “Our spiritual adviser has advised us to be careful here.”
“I assume you mean that angel you brought along with you?”
Martinez nodded. “She says to beware of everything. What’s your take on the situation?”
Tiny rubbed the furry whiskers that covered his chin. “Well, we’ve got a gang twice our size that wants to do us bodily harm in one direction. Nothing but desert and impassible terrain in every other direction. Not a lot of choices. She said to beware of everything, right? Not get the hell out?”
Martinez smiled. “Think we may be better off here, for the moment anyway?”
Tiny nodded. “For the moment.”
“You can park your motorbikes over here by the garage,” the mayor said before turning and strolling down the first of the two side streets.
“Motorbikes?” Tiny mumbled. “Who says motorbikes?”
THE GROUP MET inside a small diner, minus the four Rebels that Tiny assigned to keep an eye on things outside. A young brunette girl the mayor introduced as Kali Lee served them coffee and pastries. Kali Lee greeted them in her best southern accent and, just like Mayor Norman, did not appear the least bit nervous at the sudden arrival of the leather-clad motorcycle gang. Again, Burke couldn’t shake the nagging thought that the setting was out of place. The diner and its attendant were too perfect for such a dead town. The tile floor shone as though it had just been scrubbed, as did the white countertops with their neatly arranged ketchup, mustard, and napkin holders. An old jukebox in one corner played music that was at least forty years old.
What’s this place doing here?
After taking a quick look around the sterile establishment, most of the Rebels wandered back outside empty-handed. Burke couldn’t blame them. This whole scene made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and threatened to drive him out of town as fast as he could run.
Mayor Norman’s toothy smile never left his freckled face as he showed off this little piece of his town. The fact that it was the middle of the day and not another customer was anywhere to be seen dampened his enthusiasm not a bit as he expounded on the cultural significance of the diner.
“This is where people gather to be neighborly,” the mayor said. “Seems hardly anyone cooks anymore, the food here at Mel’s is so good. Isn’t that right, Kali Lee?”
“That’s right, Mayor Lester.” Kali Lee nodded and smiled.
Burke inhaled, smelling disinfectant but nothing else. “Seems kind of quiet in here now.”
“Yes, yes, quiet now,” the mayor said, nodding and smiling. “But it’ll liven up, won’t it Kali Lee?”
“Oh yes, Mayor Lester. It sure will liven up.”
“All right, enough of this,” Tiny said. “This whole thing stinks, and I want
some straight answers. Why the hell could we come into this town and that bunch out there can’t?” Tiny’s arm swung in the direction of the road leading out of town.
Mayor Norman’s smile nearly faltered before popping back into place. Keep it up, Tiny, Burke thought. You almost cracked that shell the good mayor is hiding behind.
“Well now, that’s a good question. A really good question, isn’t it, Kali Lee?”
“Yes, Mayor Lester. That sure is a good question.” Kali Lee looked as if the mayor had asked her if she was having a good day.
Tiny slid his bulk closer to the mayor until his leather-clad belly rested only inches from the smaller man’s chest. “And?”
“Well…” The mayor hesitated. “We really don’t know. It’s the strangest thing. Yes, the strangest thing.” His voice faded out as he rubbed his chin.
“This whole place is plain weird,” Raquel said from where she stood beside the jukebox. “I’ve never even heard of most of the songs in this thing, and the ones I have heard of my grandma used to listen to.”
The smile fell from Mayor Norman’s face once again, and for just a moment Burke felt a wave of vertigo, as if the building shifted. He blinked. A quick look at his friends told him they had experienced something, too.
“What just happened?” Martinez asked.
The mayor’s smile was back but not as wide or friendly as before. “Happened? I don’t think anything happened. Do you, Kali Lee?”
“No sir, Mayor Lester. I don’t think anything happened.”
“That’s it,” Tiny said. “I’m outta here.”
He spun and headed outside. The little bell that hung above the door jingled merrily as he gathered his troops around him. “All right, we’ve got some decisions to make. We’re outnumbered out there.” He gestured to the edge of town. “And this place gives me the creeps.” He stomped across the small parking lot toward the corner, cursing as he stalked past the row of bikes. Once he reached the intersection, the rest of the group trailing behind, he turned to face the gang that blocked the road in the distance.
“Skeeter!” Tiny bellowed. There was no answer. “Skeeter, where you at?” Tiny scanned the empty street. “Where’d they go?” He spun around and checked the faces of the Rebels behind him. “Where’re Skeeter and the others?”
Josiah stepped up beside his leader. “Something’s wrong. They wouldn’t have left their post, not unless something real bad happened.” He shook his head. “Even then, one of them would have stayed behind to keep an eye on that bunch out there.”
The misfit pack of vagabonds remained in the road, trapping them in. The adrenaline-charged atmosphere had given way to a tense anticipation. They seemed to be waiting for something.
A cold gust of wind brought a chill to the exposed flesh of Burke’s face. Dust and sand blew across the road, covering the tire tracks the Lord’s Rebels had left on their way into town. The air around them darkened. Burke looked up into a clear, cloudless sky. The mid-afternoon sun still shone, but it had lost some of its brightness, as though it were farther away than it should be. A shiver ran through Burke’s body as a surreal feeling took hold of him. Somewhere in the town behind them, a door slammed. Other than that, he only heard the whistle of the wind.
The rival gang on the edge of town waited and watched.
Waiting for what? Burke wondered. “Tiny, we’ve got to get out of here,” he said, fighting to keep his voice steady.
“Not without my people. Spread out. Tear this podunk place apart if you have to.”
Burke could feel the nervous energy in the Rebels as they split up into small groups and spread out through the town. There was little to search. The entire town stretched only four blocks, with a smattering of houses and other buildings on the outskirts. At first the bikers did their best to be polite, knocking on doors and ringing bells. When it became obvious that no one was going to open up to them, they grew more aggressive. Within a few minutes, they were kicking doors in. Burke continued to watch for several minutes as he and Martinez stood alone.
“Come on,” Burke said. “I want to go talk to Mayor Norman again. Something about that guy just isn’t right.”
“Yeah, that whole scene gave me the willies.”
The two men retraced their steps to the diner. The wind had picked up considerably, but the sky remained clear and cloud-free. Burke shielded his eyes as dust and sand raked his face like tiny missiles fired from toy soldiers. Even with his hand nearly covering his eyes, he had to squint until he was peering through his lashes to keep the grit out. In the background, he could hear some of the Lord’s Rebels yelling for their friends as they searched house by house. Finally, he reached the diner door and jerked it open. The bell jingled above the door to announce their presence.
The silence in the diner felt eerie after the noise of the maelstrom outside. Burke ran a hand through his hair as he looked around. Something was different.
“Dirty,” Martinez said, as though reading Burke’s mind.
The big man went to the counter in front of the door and ran a finger across it. Burke could clearly see the clean train that Martinez’s finger left in the thin layer of dust that covered every horizontal surface.
“Look at the floor,” Burke said. “There should be footprints from earlier.” He pointed to the prints Martinez’s shoes had left as he crossed the floor to the counter. “Nothing. It’s like we were never here.”
Martinez grunted. “Not recently, anyway.”
Burke moved farther into the room. “Hello? Mayor Norman? Kali Lee?” His voice sounded loud in the quiet of the empty diner.
Outside, the wind battered the building as the muted sun continued to shine down on the town.
“Well now, gentlemen. How do you like our little burg so far?”
Burke and Martinez both spun at the sound of the mayor’s voice, but saw no one. The voice had sounded distant—muffled—like it came from a basement or attic.
“You heard that, right?” Burke asked.
“Yeah.”
The mayor’s disembodied laughter filled the room.
“Where’s it coming from?” Burke cocked his head, trying to get a bead on the sound as it faded away.
“Isn’t natural,” Martinez said. “Your ghost giving you anything? This should be right up her alley.”
Burke shook his head. “She’s been quiet. She tends to disappear when bad things are about to happen.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Burke said. “A very bad feeling.”
Had the Serpent heard Burke’s comment, he would have heartily agreed. The Serpent had known from the moment he entered the town that things here were not as they appeared. For one, his power almost completely left him—a decidedly unpleasant experience. He had struggled to control his motorcycle, Denizen screaming a curse before being ripped from his body.
No, not his body. His soul.
The physical pain had been intense, almost as intense as the change he had undergone at the lake. However, the pain to his psyche had caused him to seriously freak out. And now he felt uncomfortably…normal.
Oh, he was still the Serpent, yet less so than he had been. The god had left him, and he felt confused. Denizen’s reaction had been one of surprise. So, the Serpent thought, you aren’t all-powerful after all. As a matter of fact, there appeared to be one more powerful—or at least equal—to Denizen. The Serpent smiled. This was becoming more interesting all the time.
“What’re you smiling about?”
“Oh, nothing really.”
The Serpent looked over at the other biker. The guy’s impressive size was all muscle bulk. The Serpent had dealt with enough of that type to know just how to take them out. He hoped the opportunity presented itself. To be honest, he was getting tired of these Jesus freaks. They thought they ruled the road, but what did they really know of power? Nothing, that’s what. He could wipe out the bunch of them if he wanted. That might not b
e necessary, however. Someone else appeared to be taking care of that for him. As a human, he knew he should be at least a little bit afraid, but recent events had introduced him to realities he had never imagined. Death was nothing for him to fear, and whatever game was at play here would discover that the Serpent was not a player to be taken lightly.
“Where do you think they got off to?” the biker asked.
The Serpent shrugged. “Probably nothing to worry about.”
“Tiny’s gonna wring their necks when we find them.”
The Serpent said nothing as he and his partner stepped out of the third empty house they had searched. Layers of dust covered the surfaces in each house—clear signs that this town had not been lived in for a long time.
The wind howled through the deserted street, carrying a storm of sand and debris with it. The Serpent pulled one side of his jacket up to protect his face as he scanned the rest of the nearby houses. Movement across the street caught his eye. He squinted through the dust storm at the point that had caught his attention. There it was again. Not motion exactly, more like a shimmering in the air in front of one of the houses. The Serpent smacked his partner in the chest and nodded at the house.
“See something?” the guy asked.
The Serpent realized he should know the guy’s name. But, to be honest, he really didn’t care.
“Yeah.”
The Serpent walked down the four short stairs from the house’s front porch and leaned against the wind as he crossed the street. He sensed his partner just behind him and wished he was alone. Whatever was going on, he didn’t want to share it with the Jesus freak. Then again, maybe it would be more fun this way. He’d find out soon enough.
As they approached the house, the Serpent saw that it looked nearly identical to the ones they had already searched. Imagination had not been a strong point for the designer of this town. What a boring stink hole. For just a moment, he saw the shimmer again—and for that moment the house appeared just a bit clearer, cleaner. He blinked his eyes against the flying sand and everything returned to its dirty, abandoned state.
