“How...?” Harmony asked.
“Bobby-Ray?” I said.
Hank smiled and nodded. “We’ve started tuning in every morning. Lots of folks are following your progress. And Hope Springs wants to help you.”
“What do you think?” I asked Harmony.
“It’s a crazy idea,” she said, obviously against it.
“If you don’t show us how to take the bikes, we’ll have to do something else,” Davey said. “Like start a fight with them in Hap’s bar.”
“We’ll show you,” Harmony said.
“But you have to promise me that anyone who rides will wear a helmet,” I said.
“Of course we will,” Davey said. “We’re crazy, not senile.”
“And make sure someone sends video to Bobby-Ray,” I said.
“We already have volunteers for that,” Hank said.
Harmony and I went into Albert’s café and ordered two plates of his homemade chili con carne. It was bright red and seemed to have as many peppers as red beans in it.
“Too hot for you?” Harmony asked, smiling.
“I’m going to regret this in the morning,” I said. I was on my second ice-cold bottle of cola.
“You’re such a wimp.”
There was a sheen of sweat on her cheeks so I knew she was feeling it too.
The earbud vibrated, making me shiver. I hate it when it does that.
“Hey, Floyd, what’s up?” I said.
“We’ve got a problem,” he said.
“A police-type problem?”
“No, hardware,” he said.
“You or the truck?”
“Truck. The batteries aren’t recharging. It may have been a bad idea to drive through that burning building in Compton’s Forge.”
“You think?” I said. “Can you fix it?”
“I can fix anything,” he said. “But I’m going to need some parts and some time.”
“Parts I can probably get you,” I said, “but time-wise we’re already in the red.”
“I know,” Floyd said. “Bring me what I need and I’ll make the repairs in a couple of hours – three at most.”
“Send me a list of what you need,” I said. “Include alternatives if you can. There’s an auto repair shop here but it’s a small one and there’s an old guy whose backyard looks like a scrap heap. I should be able to scrounge up what you need.”
My watch pinged and I saw a list on the screen of half-a-dozen parts. None of the names meant anything to me. Wire and solder were the only words I recognised.
Harmony had followed my side of the conversation. Seeing my frown she twisted my arm so she could see the watch.
“Big job,” she said.
“Three hours tops,” I said.
“For a robot maybe,” she said. “I just hope he didn’t damage the squiggle-di-diddle as well.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” I said. She didn’t say squiggle-di-diddle, but she may as well have done. I have no idea what she was talking about. I think she knew that. “If it comes down to it, we can salvage parts from the Trekker and abandon it,” I said. “But I’d prefer not to do that.”
“Do you want to order some ice cream?” she asked.
“Hell, yes,” I said, “a bucketful. My tongue’s on fire.”
“Show me.”
I did.
“You’ll live,” she said.
“Aren’t you going to kiss it better?”
“In your dreams.”
I carried the box of parts back to the Trekker. Bradley in the auto workshop and Scrappy Jones had fallen over themselves to try and help me. I guessed they’d signed up for the motorcycle-ride-of-your-life party. I practically had to force them to take some of Mister Flint’s money. Some of the parts from the scrapyard looked suspect even to my untrained eye, but I’d brought a couple of examples of each just in case. All we needed was for Floyd to be able to make a temporary repair that would last long enough to get the truck to a proper service station.
Bypassing the ignition system on an old motorcycle isn’t that difficult. With the simplest ones the key just acts as a switch to turn the power on. Make a direct connection between the battery and the motor and the thing will start up. Newer ones are more sophisticated and the ignition system is woven into more of the electronic systems. They’re supposed to be un-hackable, but that sort of claim just acts as a challenge to a thief.
Harmony and I showed three of the old guys how to steal the vintage bikes and then we cracked the newer ones ourselves. She wanted to turn it into some kind of competition, but I wasn’t falling for that. I’d seen her sneak into the bar and pick pockets to get some of the bike keys.
By nightfall, most of the bikes were unlocked and ready to roll. Davey and Hank had gathered up an assortment of helmets for the riders to wear – everything from sportswear to fighter pilot helmets were available. Just choosing a hat turned into a fun activity. I still had some safety concerns but I felt sure that the oldsters wouldn’t be racing up and down the highway at full-throttle. All they had to do was ride faster than any Dragon Rider that tried to run after them. If that sounds like I was trying to convince myself that everything would be fine, that’s probably true. But if we didn’t help them with this they’d threatened to do something even more dangerous, so what choice did I have?
“Should we call a paramedic and have them on standby?” Harmony asked.
“No need,” I said. “The old guy over there in the pinstripe sweatpants is a doctor and the young lady with the rouged cheeks is his nurse.”
“Young lady?” Harmony said.
“Compared to the doc she is.”
“What happens next?” Harmony asked.
“It all kicks off at eight,” I said. “Hank said we could leave them to it, but I think we should stick around and see how things go. If everything looks okay, we can sneak off once the chaos is underway.”
“Where’s Floyd?” Harmony asked.
“Jacobsville,” I said, “about a hundred miles east of here.”
“We’ll catch up with him before daybreak,” she said. “We can take turns driving.”
I looked at my watch. “Playtime.”
“Do we need to do anything?”
“I’m going to stand well back out of the way,” I said.
“Good plan.”
“You two aren’t planning on hitting the road now, are you?” a voice asked.
We turned. Mother was standing behind us and he had a nasty smile on his face.
Chapter Twenty-One
Mother had a bottle of beer in his hand. Judging by his watery eyes, he was feeling pretty mellow. He was alone so I guess he wasn’t expecting any trouble.
“We’re not going anywhere,” I said. “Wouldn’t want to miss this for the world.”
“Miss what?” Mother frowned.
“The residents of Hope Spring are putting on a performance,” Harmony said.
“Is it show tunes?” Mother asked. “I bet its show tunes.” He seemed happy at the prospect.
“It’s not show tunes,” Harmony said.
“Square dancing?” Mother guessed.
“Nope,” I said.
“They wanted to do something special,” Harmony said, “just for the Dragon Riders.”
Mother puffed his chest out and smiled. “Now I wonder what it could be.”
Almost on cue, the first alarm was raised.
“Hey! That’s my bike!” a voice shouted. It was somewhere down near the bar.
“Stop that!” yelled another voice, a little closer to us. “Get off that thing! You’ll hurt yourself!”
“What’s going on?” Mother asked.
One of the Dragon Riders came running up the hill. “Mother! Mother! They’re taking our rides.”
Mother turned and scowled at us. “You two are behind this.”
Harmony and I put on our best innocent faces.
“But we were up here with you,” Harmony said.
“
What do we do?” the biker asked. “We can’t hit them – they’re old.”
Motorcycles were travelling up and down the main street now. Some of the riders were a little wobbly at first but they quickly got the hang of it. A few had found the buttons to turn on the fake engine sounds while others had turned up the music systems to create their own soundtrack. Lining the side of the road were non-participants who shouted encouragement or pointed recording devices to capture the action.
“Get off that thing you fat bitch!” one of the bikers shouted. His face went pale as the bike stopped and turned suddenly, the rear tyre kicking up smoke. He looked like he wanted to run away when she came back towards him but he stood his ground. The bike stopped and the woman pulled off her helmet. Her grey hair expanded like a huge grey dandelion clock. I’d met her earlier. She was called Beulah and she used to be a professional wrestler. She glared at the biker.
“Would you talk to your momma like that?” Beulah demanded to know. “Shame on you.
And then she hit him up the side of the head with a blow that made my ears ring.
“Why would they do that?” Mother asked, looking up and down the street. “Don’t they have brittle bones or something?”
I looked at him. “You and me will be their age someday. Do you think we’ll just sit around playing Canasta?”
“Not everyone who lives fast dies young,” Harmony said.
Mother looked like he couldn’t quite grasp this prospect. The effects of the drink probably weren’t helping. “You mean – they’re just like us?”
“Except for a few more wrinkles,” I said.
“And a few grey hairs,” Harmony said, reaching for my head. I slapped her hand away.
“I’d better get down there,” Mother said. He tossed his beer bottle away and set off towards the bar at a fast limp.
There were wild yells at the top of the street. A rider had lassoed one of the Dragon Riders and was dragging him behind a motorcycle.
“Someone’s going to get hurt tonight,” I said.
“I know,” Harmony said. “Those poor Dragon Riders.”
Two motorcycles approached us slowly. They were old bikes that had been lovingly restored and cared for like antique jewellery. They weren’t Dragon Rider bikes. The two women riding them looked comfortable in their saddles and had a healthy glow to their cheeks. They were old enough to be our grandparents, but the bigger of the two looked like she could take on Harmony and me together. And win.
“I’m Dana,” she said. “Me and Carly are your escorts.”
“Time to leave,” I said. I felt a little sad.
“We’ll ride with you until you get to the county line,” Dana said, “make sure you get there safely.”
“We’ll be in front, so try and keep up,” Carly said.
“I like this place,” I said as we walked towards the Trekker.
“Been a while since we had a party like this,” Dana said. “Me and Carly used to ride with the original Medusas.” She showed me the tattoo. “We’re the only two left.”
“That’s because we took care of each other,” Carly said.
“Yes, we did,” Dana said. She reached for Carly’s leather-gloved hand and gave it a squeeze.
“You drive,” I said.
Harmony looked at me and I had no idea what she was thinking. There was a hint of sadness in her eyes. Maybe she was thinking the same thing as me.
*
The sun was colouring the clouds a rich red when I opened my eyes. Our biker escorts were gone and the Trekker was the only thing on the road.
“You should have woken me,” I said.
“We cover ground quicker when you’re asleep,” Harmony said. “And besides, you’re more in need of beauty sleep.”
“How unkind. Where are we?”
“About an hour away from Floyd,” she said. “Unless you want to drive, then we’re ninety minutes away.”
“You’re not funny,” I said. “What’s the word from the Stainless Steel Duck?”
“Who? Oh, Floyd. He estimates he’s got about a hundred miles left in the batteries. He’s pulled over to wait for us.”
“I don’t fancy sitting on the side of the highway for three hours while he fixes the truck,” I said. “We need to find a barn or something so we can stay out of sight.”
“I’ve been giving that some thought,” she said. “I need to look at the map, but I think I know somewhere that we can go.”
“Between you and Floyd, I’m beginning to think I’m redundant here,” I said. I stared out of the side window.
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “There are things that only you can do. I’m sure of it.”
“Yeah, but you don’t seem to be interested in those things anymore.”
“Not while I’m driving at eighty-four miles an hour,” she said.
“Eighty-four?” I said. “And you said I was slow.”
That was a stupid thing to say. Harmony put her foot down to the floor and the G-force started doing that weird thing to my cheeks.
I didn’t know if Floyd was pleased to be reunited with us. It’s hard to tell when someone only has one expression. I always think of that expression as being toleration with a hint of disappointment. But that’s probably just me projecting my insecurities. I think he was happier to see the box of parts I was holding. Until he looked inside.
“Never send a human to do a robot’s job,” he muttered. “I see you brought that other spare part too.”
“That’s just rude,” Harmony said. She went off to check the map on the Trekker’s dash screen.
“I hoped you’d get her out of your system back in Hope Springs,” Floyd said. “What happened?”
“It wasn’t the right moment,” I said.
“She said ‘no’ didn’t she?”
“How much damage did you actually do to the truck?” I asked.
The truck had looked like a wreck when we first got it and it didn’t look significantly worse now. The damage was somewhere underneath where the energy collected by the solar panels on top of the trailer was funnelled into the storage batteries under the sleeping area in the cab.
“While we’re changing the subject,” Floyd said, “I checked the cargo and all of the bottles are intact.”
“You only wrecked the truck itself then – that’s good.”
“It’s not wrecked,” Floyd insisted. “Those parts could have failed at any time. I just helped them get there sooner. It’s not going to take long to fix.”
“We’ll be vulnerable if we stop moving for three hours,” I said. “Harmony is finding us a place to hide.”
“You trust her to do that?”
“Yeah, I do. Just like I trust you to drive the truck. I’m stupid like that.”
“You’re really grumpy when you’re not getting any,” Floyd said.
Chapter Twenty-Two
We had apple pie and cream for breakfast. Apparently, you can do things like that when you’re a grown-up. We saved the wholemeal bread rolls and crumbly cheese for a midday snack. Other than eating, the rest of our time was spent driving. We needed to put some distance between ourselves and Hope Springs before we pulled off to make repairs to the truck.
Around mid-afternoon, I began to notice a change in the scenery. The road was still dry dust but there were more trees visible on either side of it. Proper trees with leaves, not those weird spiky things.
“If you’re wanting to go much further we’ll have to run the truck off my battery,” Floyd said.
“How far is it?” I asked Harmony.
She peered through the windshield and scowled. “It’s here somewhere,” she said. “Turn here, this is the road.”
“Are you sure?”
It wasn’t a road as such, more like a path that animals followed through the trees. Having said that, the surface was actually smoother than some parts of the ‘highway’ we’d driven on. As we moved deeper into the woods, the truck had to slow down as the trees closed i
n above us. The top of the trailer scraped through the foliage, knocking down leaves and small twigs.
“Please tell me this doesn’t get any worse,” Floyd said.
“We’ll be fine,” Harmony said. We had to take this on faith because I was pretty sure she hadn’t driven an eighteen-wheeler down here the last time she visited.
“The trees will hide us from search drones,” I said, trying to look on the bright side. “You’d be surprised what they can conceal. I once found a battleship under a tree.”
“I don’t believe that,” Harmony said.
“It’s where we first met,” Floyd said.
Harmony still didn’t know whether to believe us. “How do you fly a battleship into a place like this?”
“You crash it and then wait for the trees to grow around it,” I said.
“That might take a while,” she said.
“Forty years, give or take,” I said. “I think the path’s widening out again.”
“Are we nearly there yet?” Floyd asked.
“I guess so,” Harmony said, peering down the path in front of us.
She guessed right. The path brought us to a clearing. There was a small shack in the middle of it. Wet black wood with a frosting of wet green moss. I’d imagined a cozy lakeside log cabin. This was more like a large garden shed. Instead of standing straight, the walls leaned in or out to varying degrees. At the front was a porch with rotting steps leading up to it and I could see a door and one little window.
“Nice place,” I said. “I think I saw a couple of horror movies that were filmed here.”
“If you want somewhere that’s not on any maps, your options are limited,” Harmony said.
“Even if people knew it was here, they wouldn’t come,” I said. “I bet it’s haunted.”
“No self-respecting ghost would linger here,” Floyd said.
“Leave the truck under the trees,” I said. “There’s no point trying to collect solar until we can store the juice.”
“I’ll get started on the repairs,” Floyd said.
“Any chance you’ll be done before nightfall,” I asked.
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” Harmony said. She opened the door and got out. I reluctantly followed. Judging by her expression, the shack wasn’t quite the romantic hideaway she remembered it being.
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