Damn this weather he thought! It was coming down in buckets! The powerful man knew he had a long way to go, but he needed to keep going no matter how bad it got... The old Harley roaring under him was running strong, so he wasn't too concerned about the lousy weather or the poor road conditions. He knew he'd make good time in spite of the foul weather. There was a good eighty miles left in the tank and he figured to just push on till he needed more.
His leather chaps fit well and his jacket was snug over his broad shoulders, so keeping dry wasn't a huge concern. Still glad as hell to be headed away from the coast and the bad weather instead of towards it. Figuring he'd be riding in the wind with the sun warming his back by morning. The man was tall, strong and battle tested. Glad to be free of that damn desert and the hatred he'd left behind. Only days back in the states, finely headed home from fighting a war he knew no one would ever win. Both sides wrong to do violence on their fellow man. Both sides losing in the end. Loosing good men, good fathers' and good sons and for what?! Nothing! Nothing but a line in the sand and a religion founded so long ago that others of less character had perverted its cannon over the centuries, twisted its true message of love and tolerance to fit their twisted needs.
His name was Rain, at least that's what people called him anyway. It was sort of a joke actually, how he came by it so many years past. It was more in reference to the hell he'd rain down on anyone he felt needed it at the time. A war reference to "bring the rain" was quite accurate and to the point where he was concerned. Especially if he was anywhere around when things got rough. An impressive man by most standards, way over six-foot-tall and bull strong. Real fast with his hands and a hell of a shot with the Sig P220 he kept holstered under his left arm. Not one for violence, but never willing to let it pass unanswered if need be.
He had put the old Harley in storage near Norfolk before the war. Knowing once he got back to the states it would be just what the doctor ordered to get his mind right and his head on straight. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was to spend one more second crammed in flying tin can another 8 hours just to get home a few days quicker. He'd been gone nearly 4 years; a few days more or less would make little difference. His girl had given him the dear John shtick nearly two years past and his folks were both long gone years before that. He wanted the freedom the open road would provide and a warm wind on his face to help him decompress. He wasn't too happy about the monsoon he was driving through at the moment! But it truly was a nice change of pace from the suppressive heat and stinging dust storms he'd endured for the last forty-two months.
He'd been running hard since leaving Norfolk, making good time. He hoped to be somewhere outside Nashville Tennessee by midnight. From there he would keep heading west to the cost. Knowing he would soon need gas, he began looking for a place to stop. He'd been on the road quite a while when the lights of an old gas station came into view. On the opposite side of the road there was an old beer joint. He grinned at the site of the old dump, looking more like it was about to fall down rather than open for business. Knowing it was just what his tired bones needed. The lights where still on and a cold beer sounded pretty good. A break from the weather after he gassed up, before he got back on the road, sounded pretty good. After he paid at the pump, he drove across the road, pulled up to the front steps and killed the motor. He popped the heavy kick stand down in the mud and stepped off. More by habit than anything, he checked the parking lot as he stretched to get the kinks out, noticing a little compact car.
Knowing full well a rental car with New York plates this far out in the sticks was odd and more than just a bit out of place. The storm seemed to be letting up at least, thinking by the time he drank a beer or two it would pass over and he'd have a clear ride, smiling at that as he walked up the steps. Pushing the door open and walking in. There was one old dude behind the bar, another one leaning up to it, pulling on a mug of draft. He noticed two real scummy bastards milling around the pool table in the back. Rain figured they were up to no good as soon as he saw them. All four seemed a bit edgy to him, like he may have somehow interrupted something. Rain was a big old boy and knew his appearance would sometimes put people off their game, sometimes even intimidate.
One man, no matter how tough he looked, wouldn't put this bunch off. Not unless they were up to something! Rain was no amateur, he knew the type. He had dealt with scum like this all over the world. Rain was or more to the point, used to be a military Cop, a very special kind of Cop. The kind you send after the worst of the lot. He hunted terrorists, sex slavers, gun runners and drug dealers. He never quit, he never gave up till the job was done. He was getting the feeling that the little rental car parked out in the mud might be part of this story somehow, it sure didn't belong to any of these pud knockers! So where was the driver? As he walked up to the bar he was wondering about that very detail. "Evening boys" How about a cold beer? Rain asked. Just as he asked, he heard a woman Scream!
Then the jack ass at the bar next to him pulled a knife! Rain stepped in on him and caught the man's arm, quickly snapping his wrist! The man screaming as he dropped the blade! Rain slammed into him with a forearm to the face! The man's nose exploding in a mass of blood and mangled flesh as Rain fallowed though with a massive downward smash of his fist! The man falling away, dead or dying! Rain moving on with no other thought to the man, hearing his head hit the pine floor with a sick thud. His eyes rolling back in his head. Rain's steel eyes shot to the man behind the bar as he tried to pull a sawed off shot gun! Rain drew his P220 sig and fired in a flash! The bullet entering the man's skull just above the bridge of his nose, shutting him off like a switch! The man dropping the shotgun and falling into the bar back, crashing and breaking several bottles as he fell. Long dead before he hit the floor. Rain spun on the other two, barley catching a glimpse as their asses hit the front door at a dead run! The whole damn thing over in seconds! Rain blew out a slow breath, calming the huge adrenaline rush his body had been subjected too. His hands steady and heart rate normal as he quietly scanned the room for any more threats.
