by Xander Hades
“Hoodoo,” Tracy said coldly. “I asked you nicely, I told you flat out. I am not going to coddle you and pretend everything is all flowers and candy like your Momma Leonna! Now go away! Let me do this in peace!”
Hoodoo blinked. She never met Momma Leonna, but if I ever gave anyone that impression about her, I was hallucinating. Hell, no one got drunk enough to have pleasant thoughts about Momma Leonna. “I understand,” he said after a minute, looking from her to the brutes surrounding her.
“Do you?” Tracy said, “really? This is the just the tip of the iceberg with us, isn’t it? There’s more, there’s always more all around us, but YOU CAN’T LET IT GO! Please, Hoodoo, just go. You’ll never see me again!”
Shit. Well that was just lovely.
“Fine.” Hoodoo said and walked back to his bike. It was the hardest ten feet he’d ever walked in his life. Every fiber of his being was screaming to go back there. He gritted his teeth, and marked each man he passed, remembering them.
When he rejoined the others he pulled them into a circle far enough away to hopefully not be too noticeable. For the first time since they’d gotten there, Hoodoo was thankful for the press of crowds all around them.
“Tracy’s in big trouble,” he told them, resisting the urge to look back the way he’d come. “Big trouble.”
Chapter Nineteen
Hoodoo and the others assessed the group from a safe distance. It felt safe to talk out here by the road – there was still enough traffic, both on foot or on bike, and no one seemed to be paying any more attention to them than to anyone else. They blended in by being a group of bikers in a larger group of bikers.
Oddly enough, no one seemed to have recognized the Crocker from here. The thieves had showed some sense, Hoodoo realized, in keeping it under what trees there were. How long that would last, was anybody’s guess. The park wasn’t much to speak of – a handful of trees, a couple of picnic tables, a lot of dirt, in the rough shape of a baseball diamond. So far, the only thing of interest to anyone were the concrete block restrooms, supplemented by porta-potties on the far end. But sooner or later someone would shortcut through under the trees and that would be the end. All it would take was one texted picture for a crowd to form.
Why the hell they hadn’t gone outside of town was beyond him.
Doing the same thing we are, he realized. Trying to hide a bike in a group of bikes. They’re idiots if they think that thing doesn’t stand out. They should have done this deal a hundred miles away.
On the other hand, if that had been the case, The Gilas would never have been there to stop it.
“Your buddy is there with them,” Hoodoo murmured to Rocky, with a nod in their direction. “I don’t think you can see him from here. He was over by the tree.”
“Who?”
“Krocker, your opponent. The guy you’re fighting in… an hour and half.”
“No friend of mine.” Rocky shook his head, his expression sour. “The man’s a shit. Spent the entire drive from the airport going on about some ancestor of his being a ‘pioneer’ in the motorcycle industry or some shit.”
“Spelled wrong.” Hoodoo mused. “Idiot. Bet you he’s after the bike.”
“How do you know that Tracy doesn’t want to sell it?” Mad-dog asked, a little uncertainly. They could just see the top of her head from here. She didn’t seem to be in distress. She wasn’t exactly screaming like a damsel in distress, or making a huge effort to get away.
Hoodoo turned to Mad-dog. “She told me my grandmother was a loving, kind woman who coddled me.”
“Shit, boss,” Mad-dog said, in shocked awe, “Tracy’s in trouble.”
“Where are Andy and Danny?” Loki asked, turning in a slow circle and trying to see through the crowd.
“I sent them to the other end of the park,” Mad-dog said, “or whatever you want to call this dirt and picnic tables. They’re waiting for our signal.”
“Call Andy, tell him there are some Bandits waiting in the shadows, flush them out, but be careful.”
Mad-dog whipped out his phone and dialed. “Val, I need you to go in and go for the title. Play keep away. Loki, head around the side over there and create a distraction.”
Hoodoo shot the fighter a glance. “Rocky, you in this?”
“I’m offended you have to ask, man, of course.”
“Good, you with me and Mad-dog. You fend off your buddy. Joey is mine.”
The Gilas left their bikes, all but Loki who sped off in the direction Hoodoo was pointing. It was the most horrifying thing he could think of to do, and it wouldn’t stand them in anyone’s good graces, but they were outnumbered. And it was possible that someone would have a gun. Very likely even. There were too many to take on head first, he needed to cut a swath in the Bandits to get to Tracy and get her out.
The crash and the screams that followed were the signal. Hoodoo turned and made a beeline for the picnic tables. Val, light and quick, soon outpaced them all. There were shots fired, but they were all sent after a fleeing Loki who was already well out of range.
Hoodoo tried to not look at the mass of machinery and chrome that lay scattered on the street. Loki had taken out every single bike the Bandits rode and by being a target, he’d let them empty most of their ammo before the rest arrived.
Val was flash lightning in leathers. She ran so fast and dodged so cleanly, most of The Bandits didn’t even know she was there. Her quicksilver steps ended as she leapt to the table and snatched the title before dropping to the ground and rolling in the grass.
By the time The Bandits recovered, she was already running back. They started to chase after her only to run into Hoodoo, Mad-dog and Rocky. It was a wall of muscle and sinew. Krocker looked like a rabbit in a snare when he recognized Rocky.
“Return that title!” Joey spat, grabbing Tracy’s arm and forcing her in close to him. Her expression was pained, and mad as hell as she struggled in his grip.
Bandits were running back from the damaged bikes and others were coming from the trees. Val ran until she was standing next to Hoodoo and only then did she turn and grin at the stunned gathering.
“Excuse me,” Hoodoo said to Tracy who looked at him with wide eyes as he sketched a little bow and roared. His leap brought him within a few feet of her and his fist collided with Joey’s nose. Joey’s hand dropped away from Tracy’s arm, and she turned, kicking him hard as he fell, then getting out of the way as the Bandits swarmed over Hoodoo, attempting to bring him down with fists only, but in that, they were outgunned.
When someone did finally whip out a gun, Hoodoo’s fist came down on his head like a hammer. Hoodoo scooped the weapon up and handed it to Tracy who took it with a great deal of reluctance and an expression of distaste. “Seriously?” She handled it like it was a dead rat.
He had no time to deal with that. At that moment, two of the Bandits jumped Hoodoo from behind, but he managed to throw one into the knot of bikers rushing to them.
The other suddenly groaned and fell. Hoodoo turned to see Val grinning from ear to ear.
Rocky was clearing a path to Krocker who was trying to clear his own path away from the ruckus. There was another shot, but only one and the person who tried to fire a warning shot into the air suddenly found himself airborne at the end of Rocky’s fist.
It was frightening to see. Rocky threw himself into a fight from head to toe. Fast, deadly, and brutal, he stopped at nothing. He was almost as fast as Val, but his strength was akin to Mad-dog’s and each blow was devastating. Whereas Hoodoo could throw a punch, in that time Rocky punched twice, kicked once and headbutted.
Mad-dog was laughing and enjoying himself. He lacked the finesse that Rocky had, but not the enjoyment.
The twins were running their bikes through the back-end of the park, driving Bandits on foot toward where Hoodoo was making his stand. They fell like cordwood as they hit the knot of angry Gilas.
One of the men made a grab for the title, but Val ran to the bench of the table, le
apt over the top and landed on the other bench. The sudden drop onto the other side flipped the table, the far side bench flying up and striking her pursuer in the chin. The table caused a pile up of three others who then had to duck when Val stepped off and the entire thing came crashing back to the ground.
Loki, having done the unforgivable, spun back around and pulled up to the edge of the park and reached for something in his bike. He pulled out the walking stick he’d used in the last fight. Apparently, it had become a new favorite toy for him. He had it rigged in such a way that Hoodoo hadn’t even seen it on the bike.
Loki stepped forward, walking stick twirling casually as a dandy walking through a ballroom. He smiled. That was never a good sign. His light twirling abruptly ended as he grasped the end of the stick and brought the clockwise motion up harder, knocking a gun out of a man’s hand. The rebound of the impact sent the stick in the other direction and Loki followed the motion and brought it down on his opponent’s head. He scooped up the weapon and looked around. Seeing Tracy holding a pistol, he tipped an invisible hat and tossed it to her.
“I am not collecting GUNS!” Tracy shouted, catching it mid-air.
“Then donate them to a children’s hospital.” Loki smiled and thrust the tip of the cane into someone’s stomach.
Tracy threw up her hands in anger, the gun waving over her head momentarily before she dropped it on the heap at her feet. Hoodoo was prepared for it to go off under that sort of mishandling, but it simply clunked on top of the other. He was distracted for a moment when someone brought a garbage can down on his shoulders. But it was only for a moment. He sent the can flying. It came down somewhere in the midst of a knot of Bandits, causing a burst of confusion where they turned as one to fight the inanimate object, and only wound up taking out each other in the melee.
Imitating a mule that one of Mamma Leonna’s clients had chained up on the edge of the swamp, Hoodoo kicked out behind him. His foot connected with the assailant’s groin and Hoodoo spun and laid him out with a roundhouse kick.
“Alright boss!” Val yelled and Hoodoo saw her spin in mid-air and land a solid kick in a man’s face. Hoodoo could hear the cartilage cracking as the man sprayed blood and went down.
“Hey Hoodoo!” Rocky came up to him, a Bandit tucked carefully under one arm in a choke hold. “What’s the deal with that girl? She seeing anyone?” He let go of his captive who slid to the ground unconscious.
“No, mon,” Hoodoo said. “She’s not. Val’s a bit like a little sister, you know?”
Rocky turned to look as Val dropped in front of a Bandit and flipped into a sort of pushup pose. Both legs flew up, one into his crotch, and then, as he groaned and bent over, the other left a perfect boot print on his face.
“Damn!” Rocky said, with a low whistle of admiration. “So, would it be ok with all her brothers if I asked her out?”
“What are you, twelve? Mon, just ask the lady!”
A two-by-four smashed into Rocky’s back. He turned slowly to see a Bandit. The man’s eyes grew wide when he realized he’d only pissed off the man he’d meant to take out. The Bandit ran for it.
“Damn man,” Rocky said. “That hurt.”
“Wuss.”
Rocky laughed. “I needed a good warm-up!”
“Well, I got your friend,” Hoodoo warned. “That mon be dead! No one do this to my girl!”
“Hoodoo,” Rocky said, “calm down, your accent is getting worse. Go work out your frustrations.”
Rocky grinned and jogged off to Val. Her opponent had pulled a knife and was slashing wildly at her. Rocky grabbed him from behind and lifted him bodily into the air. He threw him over his shoulder.
Val growled and ran at Rocky. Rocky stuck out a leg and leaned over. Val ran up the leg and launched herself off of his shoulder to land behind the next attacker. The Bandit turned, shocked at the display of acrobatics and Val kicked him in the face. He stumbled backward into Rocky who brought down a fist like a hammer, sending the man to his knees.
Val walked back to Rocky, swinging her hips and placing a foot in the center of the Bandit’s chest. She shoved the man to the dirt, leaving her facing Rocky. They stared at each other, both of them breathing hard.
“Nice to meet you.” Rocky’s expression was stunned…smitten. Val never even hesitated. She jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his waist and grabbing his head, and planting her lips on his in a wild passionate kiss that almost set him off balance until he got a grip on her, arms coming around her to steady her against him.
“Didn’t even take a shot and there’s two people out of the fight,” Hoodoo groused, shaking his head at the blatant display.
“ENOUGH!” someone shouted, and a shot was fired. One of the Bandits, his nose dripping wth blood held a gun pointed at Hoodoo’s chest. “That’s enough!” he snarled. “This is a…”
Whatever he was going to announce was lost forever when the butt of a pistol came down on the back of his head. He slumped at Tracy’s feet. “So, this is why I get the guns?” she asked Hoodoo.
“We had a few extra,” Hoodoo shrugged. He walked over to her. “I have to confess to you.” He said slowly, trying to keep the accent under control. “I got into a fight again.” He spread his hands out, indicating the men groaning, several sprawled unconscious, while others crawled unsteadily, retreating to disappearing into the gathering crowd.
Mad-dog was spinning in place looking for someone else to fight. Loki was leaning on his stick, looking at Val and Rocky who still hadn’t come up for air. “What do we know about his upbringing?” he asked Hoodoo, “his future prospects?”
Hoodoo ignored him and reached for Tracy. He held out his hand, letting her decide whether or not to take it. She walked slowly into his embrace and pulled his head down so she could kiss him a long, long kiss.
“Hey, Hoodoo,” Rocky said when Val climbed down off him, “I thought all you guys just shot each other, what’s up with that?”
Hoodoo shrugged. “Nah. That’s only if you do something stupid like tip over a man’s ride.” Loki colored. “A few hotheads maybe wanna settle things that way, but there’s matter of pride, too…”
Whatever else Hoodoo was going to say, was interrupted. The one bike Loki hadn’t managed to put out of commission, however temporarily, had just fired up. Joey was throwing up sod in a rooster tail off the rear wheel of the Crocker. Apparently, he hadn’t been quite so out of commission as Hoodoo had thought.
The entire crowd roared as one, a cry of muted despair as the Crocker headed for the far side of the park, scattering the lines for the bathrooms before disappearing into the residential neighborhood just beyond.
Chapter Twenty
The Gilas ran for their bikes as Joey slammed through the neighborhood and headed for the highway. Hoodoo fired up his bike and felt a weight behind him. He turned.
Tracy looked at him, “Well? What are you waiting for?” she asked. “He’s getting away!”
Hoodoo grinned as she grabbed his waist and he winked once to Val who was being embraced by Rocky. She blushed, but the grin was about to split her face in two. Val gave the bike an extra rev and Rocky’s hand went to her hips. She wiggled a bit. It was a good thing Val was as small as she was, Rocky took most of the seat on his own, but there was just enough for a smallish woman, if she leaned into him hard enough. She did.
Hoodoo shook his head. He was starting to wonder just how good of an idea introducing the two of them had been.
The Gilas took to the streets, Hoodoo at the fore, Mad-dog and his trike coming behind. A wingman would normally ride in a staggered formation, so they were side by side with one slightly ahead of the other, but since Mad-dog had switched up to a trike, he took more room in the lane than normal. In most circumstances, a trike would have put him in the rear, but he was still Hoodoo’s wingman and so The Gilas were led by a giant and behind him, a simple abnormally large bruiser on a trike.
The day Mad-dog had traded in for the three-wheeler ha
d been a confusing time for the group. He’d ridden a customized bike for years and then, without warning, he’d come running this thing. He’d been reluctant to explain the sudden change, but when he’d been pressed he haltingly admitted that he’d wrenched his back and was having trouble keeping the bike upright at stoplights.
“I didn’t know you hurt your back.” Hoodoo had been shocked at the news. “It’s permanent?”
“Well, it’s a reoccurring injury,” Mad-dog said and clammed up. It was a month before Hoodoo found out that Mad-dog had drawn once-a-week babysitting for his two nieces while his sister worked on Sundays. She couldn’t get a sitter and the daycare was closed for the day. It turned out that Mad-dog took his charges on piggy-back rides and occasional stroller trips to the zoo. Hoodoo said nothing to anyone else, simply extoling the virtues of trikes and the benefit of having someone to carry the keg.
When the girls got older, they’d both be able to ride in the rear seat, not something that could be done on a bike. The man looked like a pugilistic Viking, but he loved those kids and every Sunday night after he left his duty, he was always a lot more relaxed and his ready smile grew exponentially.
Now the problem was a different one. A trike has the weight in the rear, it’s a rear-wheel drive, meaning the rear wheels were where the power was. The front… well, if Mad-dog got too carried away, the front had a tendency to rise off the asphalt, making steering a problem and if he hit the accelerator too hard, the front and rear wheels would change places. In the air.