Lisa was on the run. Not from the law, nothing like that. No, she was on the run from a badly broken marriage, several awful relationships, a dysfunctional family and a dead-end job. And that was just for starters.
So one morning she had emptied her savings account, put all her most valued possessions (and there were not many of these) into the back of her ancient Crown Vic station wagon and pointed it at the West Coast.
Over the next week or so she had made her way from a rainy New York City, through the heart of the Mid West, across the flat plains, always following the setting sun. Along the way she had stayed in whatever roadside motel she found and eaten in more diners than she cared to think of. Lisa was a good looking girl, she knew that, and felt less than comfortable with some of the looks she got, eating alone amongst the truckers and rednecks, many of whom did not even try to conceal their gazes.
And now she found herself driving along a road through the desert, with the sun beating down from a clear blue sky, staring at a flashing engine warning light on her dash. "Don't worry," she told herself. "These things usually just sort themselves out." Only this one didn't. Gradually she could feel the old boat beginning to lose power. She pressed the accelerator harder but still it kept losing speed, added to which it was not making an ominous rattling noise from somewhere under the bonnet.
Finally she had to accept the inevitable and steered the ancient land yacht to a stop on the soft shoulder. She switched off the already dying engine and heard it continue its death rattle for several seconds before total silence came crashing in on her.
She sighed and opened the door to a wave of desert heat. It was like opening the door to the stove as the hot air blew over her. She climbed out and looked up at the azure sky, trying to calculate how much daylight remained. She took her cell phone from her purse and looked at it. Not even a single bar of reception. The words "No Service" were all that greeted her.
"Shit!" she said out loud. She had some bottles of water on the back seat; the attendant at the last gas station had insisted she buy them after she told him which direction she was headed in. At the time she had thought it was just another sales trick, but now she silently thanked him. She took one out and had a deep slug on it. The water was still cool from the air conditioned interior of the car, but she knew that would not last long.
The sun was over the mid point and there was a small amount of shade on the near side of the car so she sat down in it and stared at the horizon. She must have dozed off because when she next opened her eyes the shadow was a good couple of feet longer, and there was a noise.
At first she thought it might be thunder rolling over the distant mountains, but it was keeping on, and seemed to be getting closer. She hauled herself to her feet and squinted up the road in both directions. The sound was definitely coming from the West and as she continued to watch she saw a dark shape begin to grow. The sound got louder as it got closer, and finally she was able to discern that it was not one object, but a swarm.
Her first thought was to hide, not knowing what it was, but she quickly realised that was stupid. Firstly the car was an obvious give away, and secondly this might be the only traffic on the road. She had not seen another car today. So she stood beside the car and waved a hand in the air, trying to put a friendly smile on her face.
Eventually the bikes drew level with her. There were around twenty, all Harleys and all growling a rumbling through open exhausts. The riders were uniformly dressed in black leathers with patches sewn on; skulls, deaths heads, the occasional iron cross. The riders themselves were a motley bunch; some old, some young, some bearded and some clean shaven. But they had one thing in common; they were all staring at her.
The lead rider switched off his engine, lazily pushed down the side stand and nimbly threw his leg over the machine. This seemed to be a signal as all the others switched off their engines. Again the silence of the desert came down on Lisa.
He was not wearing a helmet-none of them were for that matter-and she could see that he was about forty, but in good shape with no sign of a grey hair. He was ok looking, almost handsome, and tall. He yanked the waistband of his jeans up an inch and cocked his head at her before favouring her with a smile.
"Well, how do you do miss," he said in a cowboy drawl. "May I assume you are having some car trouble?"
Lisa felt a little relieved. He seemed to be ok and the smile disarmed her a bit.
"Yes," she said. "But I have no idea what is wrong."
He laughed lightly. "Doesn't really matter," he said. "Out here, all trouble is big trouble." Another of the bikers, a huge bearded man wearing a leather vest over a bare barrel-chest, had dismounted and strode up behind him. "Take a look will you Jed," the leader said to him. Jed nodded and went to the car, opening the hood and poking around the engine.
"I'm Lisa," Lisa said. "I'm really glad you came along. I was beginning to think I was going to be stuck out here all night."
He looked around them, then held out a hand. "Ben," he said. Lisa shook his hand. "And you might well have been out here for longer than that. Don't really know what made you take this road. Not many people come this way any longer since the new interstate was run through. To be honest you might have been out here for days if we hadn't come along."
Lisa shuddered at the thought. "I had no idea," she said. "I think my map might be a bit out of date."
Jed stuck his head up from under the hood. "This think ain't going nowhere," he said. "Gonna need some parts."
Ben looked at Lisa and shrugged his shoulders. "Well, you can wait here with it if you want," he said. "But I don't think I would advise it. Or we can take you to our place and you can call for someone to come and pick it up." He looked up at the sky. "Gonna get dark pretty fast though so might not happen till tomorrow."
Lisa was torn. She didn't know anything about these guys, and they were after all a biker gang. But on the other hand she did not fancy the idea of spending the night out here on her own. After a few moments considering she nodded. "Fine, I'll take you up on the offer."
"Ever ridden before?" Ben asked her.
"No, never," Lisa said.
"Nothing to it," he said. "Just hold on to my waist and lean with me. You'll soon get the hang of it."
Ben climbed aboard his bike and Lisa clumsily mounted the pillion seat behind him, hanging on to him far tighter than she needed to. The engine roared to life and without delay they took off.