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Now for your reading pleasure.

The Lost Highway
 
Lost in the pits of despair, the biker rumbled down the highway. Dark ominous clouds filled the sky. Thunder rolled across the land and lightning flashed in the distance. The smell of sulfur filled the air and the biker found it hard to breathe because of the soot. The old Harley sputtered, backfired, and almost died. Several other bikers rumbled by, and he glanced over. The others looked worn out and beat down by the road. He’d seen them before. Their motorcycles belched out black smoke and barely ran.
Glancing at the edge of the road, the biker took in the evil dense forest and shuttered. Dead bodies and the wreckage of several motorcycles littered the sides of the road. When he looked closer, he saw one of the bodies twitch. A skinny blonde-haired woman, along with three snotty nose kids stepped out of the forest. She beckoned to him with her hand. A deep sense of guilt and shame-filled the biker’s innermost being. He hit the throttle and headed down the highway. The woman waved to him trying to flag him down and called out, but her voice got lost in the foul-smelling wind. The bike sputtered and then lurched forward.
In the forest, he saw red, evil eyes peering at him from the darkness. He heard a rumble behind him that sounded like a motorcycle, yet at the same time, the machine put off an evil hiss. A rider, wearing a black robe with a hood pulled up over his head pulled up next to him. The biker glanced over and shuttered in fear. The motorcycle next to him dripped rusty-looking blood from the tank. Skeletal hands gripped the bars. When the biker looked into the hood, where the rider’s face should be he saw nothing but a skull. A tiny bit of rotten skin clung to it. A wicked green light radiated from the skull’s eye sockets. The biker saw a maggot crawling down the side of the rider’s face.
“Follow me. I’ll show you how to get off the highway. When you reach the crossroads, turn left and we’ll party for eternity,” the rider said. The voice sounded raspy. It sounded as if the thing on the rider had gargled with used cat litter and brushed its teeth with sandpaper. Its breath put off a graveyard stench.
The biker gunned the throttle, the bike sputtered, and pulled away. On the side of the road, three soldiers knelt, studying the ground as if on patrol. They looked up and motioned to the biker. The biker’s eyes widened. He felt a strong urge to pull over, but then a deep sense of guilt sank into his soul and he cranked the throttle. The wind hitting the side of his face felt hot and acidic. God, I’ve got to get off this highway, he thought.
A pack of nasty little demons wearing tattered black robes charged out of the forest and onto the road. The biker bounced over a pothole. His back tire slipped on a puddle of blood and the back tire almost slid out from under him. Managing to keep the bike upright, the biker swerved trying to avoid the vile creatures. One of them grabbed his arm. The biker looked into the eyes of a creature with no soul. He noticed warts and legions of decayed flesh on the creature’s face. The evil demon put off a stench that smelled like rotten meat. The biker flung him off and cranked the throttle.
A pack of wild dogs with glowing red eyes charged out of the forest. The sound of their snarls echoed through the night. The biker swerved, trying to avoid the teeth of one of the creatures. It snapped at his legs with its razor-sharp teeth. He cranked the throttle, pulling away from the hounds from hell. The sound of their baying decreased as he headed down the road. He hit another pothole, which launched him out of his seat. When the bike came back down on its wheels, the bike wobbled and he almost crashed.
Behind him, the biker heard the rumble of the hooded demon’s motorcycle. “God help me,” the biker prayed. Up ahead, he saw a pale light off to the side of the road. A diner set about two hundred yards off the road. Several motorcycles, an old pickup truck, and a couple of rusted-out cars set in the gravel parking lot. The biker almost turned in. The lights in the windows and the sound of country music sent a sense of longing shooting through him. In the end, the guilt won out and he kept rolling.
The road snaked its way through the dark foreboding woods. The smell of sulfur filled the air and the bike’s headlight barely pierced the darkness. In the woods, he heard the howl of the beast. Creatures moved through the woods. The biker saw a body lying next to the side of the road, and a gut pile near the centerline. Dried blood covered the pavement. It filled the potholes and cracks in the ancient highway. The road straightened out and descended into a small valley. The biker pulled up to a crossroads and stopped at a rusty old stop sign. Ahead of him, a sign next to the side of the road depicted a skull and crossbones. Below the picture, he read the words: Road Closed.
The demon in the black robe riding the bloody motorcycle pulled up next to him and let out a sinister laugh. The biker glanced to his left beyond the evil demon and saw what looked like fire in the sky. To his right, off in the distance, he saw what looked like a city surrounded by an illustrious light. A sense of longing filled his innermost being. He almost turned right, leaving the highway, but something inside him wouldn’t allow it.
“You can’t stay on this highway forever. Follow me and we’ll party in Biker Hell for eternity,” the demon said and laughed. The demon pulled away, turned left, and sped away. The biker cranked the throttle, sticking with the main highway. Maybe this time it will be different, he thought. Everything went black for a few seconds. The biker’s life seemed to pass before his eyes in a flash and he found himself back where he started. He saw a faded sign that read: Beware the Lost Highway. Hope dies here. Anguish filling his soul, the biker cranked the throttle and headed down the road.
***
Hey, Bro this is me, Cave Man. I was up in Biker Heaven partying at the clubhouse. Jimmy Hendrix was on stage and he was rockin’. The bros up here know how to party, let me tell you. Sonny and I sat at the bar tossing back some Jack and we were having a good time. Old Mr. Daniels himself, sat down at the bar watching the show. He has a brewery on the outskirts of The Emerald City and he brews some of the best whiskey that you’ve ever tasted. It beats the hell out of that stuff you have down on Earth. Mr. Daniels glanced my way and smiled, I raised my bottle in toast and he returned the gesture. I am one of the man’s best customers.
“Old Jimmy’s in rare form today!” Sonny yelled over the sound of the music.
“Yeah, that old boy always could rock,” I said.
Jimmy ended his song and Janis Joplin took the stage.
“I love the raspy sound of that gal’s voice,” Sonny said.
“She is unique,” I said. My Pops pushed his way through the batwing doors and bellied up to the bar sitting next to me.
“Well, look what the mangy dog drug in. How you doin’ Pops?” I asked and laid a friendly hand on his shoulder.
“Doin’ fine, Son. I’m doin’ fine.”
“How’s mom?” I asked.
“Oh, you know her. She can’t seem to break away from her garden. When are they goin’ to stop all this noise and play some real music?”
I laughed. “I know who you’re here for. Don’t worry Pops; old Hank is coming up next.”
Janis Joplin finished her set and the MC stepped on the stage. He was a skinny gray-haired dude in a black suit. “I know you all know this old boy coming up next. He needs no introduction, but ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce Mr. Hank Williams!”
Hank stepped onto the stage and opened up with Your Cheatin’ Heart.
Little Danny Boy entered the clubhouse and climbed onto a barstool. He leaned close and said, “I need to talk to you outside.”
I nodded, slapped my pops on the back, and said, “I’ll be right back.”
Little Danny Boy and I stepped outside and onto the boardwalk. I gazed up at the cobalt blue sky watching an eagle soar with the wind.
“What can I do for you bro?” I asked.
“I’ve got an assignment for you.”
“What are the bros down on Earth in trouble again?” I asked.
“Not this time. I was up jawin’ with the brass in the Emerald City. They want you to go get Bone Crusher and bring him home. He’s on the Lost Highway.”
“Shit,” I said and a cold chill shot down my back. “What if he doesn’t want to come?”
“You’ll have to do your best to convince him. You know that it has to be you.”
“I know, I know. I’m the one who killed him; if he doesn’t want to come, I could get stuck there,” I said.
“No, that won’t happen. You paid for your sins. If you don’t make it back, we’ll all ride down there. Remember; make sure that Bone Crusher knows that it’s about forgiveness.”
“I guess I’d better fire up the spirit bike. I’ll head up to the city and spend some time in the chapel before I go. I’ll need all the energy I’ve got if I’m gonna ride the Lost Highway,” I said.
I fired up the spirit bike and cruised up the King’s Road toward the Emerald City. The city put off a resplendent green light that shot shimmering beams into the sky. It looked like the aurora borealis on Earth. I pulled through the pearly gates, took a side road that circled the city, and pulled up to the King’s throne room. Parking the bike, I stepped through a side door and into a small chapel off the throne room. Once I stepped through the door, I closed my eyes, dropped to my knees, and cast my eyes on the floor. A deep sense of joy and rapture filled my innermost being. A blinding light filled the room radiating from the throne. The sound of an angelic quire filled the air. Over a thousand voices reverberated through the chapel. I almost felt as if I was in the presence of God himself. I could feel my energy recharge. A feeling of pure joy shot through me and the following words flashed through my brain: Go now, my son. Ride hard with a heart, that’s true. No harm will come to you. You can conquer all in the king’s name.
Right then, I felt like I could ride into hell itself and kick the Devil’s ass. I backed out of the chapel, climbed on my spirit bike, and headed for the Lost Highway.
***
Lightning flashed across the night. Thunder rolled and the smell of sulfur filled the air when I touched down on the Lost Highway. The bike sputtered and almost died, but I turned the throttle and it lurched forward. A lightning bolt hit the highway blinding me. I shielded my eyes and motored down the road. Off in the woods, I saw scores of evil red eyes peering at me. Creatures moved through the woods and I heard one howl. Evil oppression sank into my soul and I felt pressure against my forehead. A pack of demons in tattered brown robes shot out of the woods and attacked me. A two-headed monstrosity with long fangs tried to grab my arm, but I shot him with my 357. A lightning bolt shot out of my gat, hit the depraved creature in the forehead and it exploded into a cloud of smoke. I hit the brakes and they were on me. I sat in the middle of the highway, slashing with my blade and shooting my 357. Finally, there was nothing left but a cloud of smoke. Their stench lingered on the highway.
I cranked the throttle, rumbled on down the road, and saw a rider ahead of me. When I pulled up next to Bone Crusher, he looked my way and his eyes widened.
“It’s you. What are you doing here?” he said.
“I came for you bro. You need to get off this highway,” I said, but my voice almost got lost in the wind.
“Why? You’re the reason I’m here,” he yelled.
“I may be the one that killed you, but I didn’t put you on the Lost Highway. That was all you.”
“I know, man. I don’t blame you for what you did!” he yelled.
Off the side of the road, a skinny woman and three kids stepped out of the road and called out to us.
“Don’t you want to stop?” I yelled.
He shook his head and kept rolling. We motored on past the women with the kids and continued down the road dodging potholes. A pack of wolves shot out of the forest and attacked us. One of them landed on top of Bone Crusher and knocked him down. I slid the bike out on the side of the road and dropped it in the dirt. I drove the blade of my knife into the top of the creature’s head that had Bone Crusher pinned to the ground. It let out a mournful howl, rolled off his body, and died. Standing over, Bone Crusher’s prone form, I fought off the pack, slashing with my knife and firing my 357. A sense of irony shot through me. Those long years ago, when I was still alive, a bunch of dudes in an outlaw club attacked me and my bros from the Road Dogs MC. I was standing over one of my downed bros fighting like a fiend like this when I killed Bone Crusher. The battle was over, the bodies of the wolves littered the ground and blood covered the pavement. I knelt, down to help Bone Crusher to his feet.
“Are you okay, bro?” I asked.
“Yeah, man. One of them things bit me. My arm feels like it’s on fire, but I’m all right.” I looked at his arm. The wound looked inflamed and his arm dripped blood. I took off my bandanna and wrapped up his arm. We picked up our scooters and climbed into the saddle. Off in the woods, more wolves howled. It took us a while to get our scooters to fire up and all the while, creatures moved through the forest. Finally, we managed to start our motor scooters and we rumbled down the highway. A lone rider motored down the highway ahead of us. When we passed him, on the right side of the road, I noticed that half his face and his entire lower jaw were missing. Blood and gore covered his face.
“He’s was a suicide,” I said. “He’ll be on this highway a while.” We continued, rolling through the dark foreboding forest. On the side of the road, I saw a squad of soldiers step from the woods. One of them motioned to us. “Let’s stop Bro!” I yelled.
“No, no Man, I can’t! Let’s keep on rolling!” Bone Crusher yelled and pulled out ahead of me. I hit the throttle and caught up. On the right side of the road, set back in the trees I saw an eerie glow coming from the windows of a. diner setting off by itself.
“Let’s pullover, bro! I’ll buy you a cup of coffee!”
Bone Crusher hesitated and slowed down for a second, but in the end, he hit the throttle and kept rolling. We topped out a small rise and cruised down through the forest. We headed toward the crossroads at the end of the Lost Highway.
“Come on man, let’s go this way. You’ll love it in Biker Heaven,” I said motioning to my right. At that instant, a pack of demons in brown robes hit us from our right. A mob of the little shits in black attacked up from the left. Wolves stormed out of the forest, growling in hate and rage. I jumped off my bike, tossed Bone Crusher my hold-out 38 that I keep strapped to my ankle and I pulled my 357. “You need to help me!” I yelled.
We stood back to back fighting off the devil’s misguided children. Our gats shot out balls of bluish-green light. When we hit one of the evil bastards, they would explode into a cloud of black smoke. We fought off the first wave and then they overran us. There was a flash of white light and we found ourselves back where we started, at the beginning of the Lost Highway. We took several more trips before I finally talked Bone Crusher into pulling into the diner.
“I don’t know about this, man,” Bone Crusher, said when we pulled up. “This doesn’t feel right.”
“Relax, bro. We’ll have a cup of coffee and talk for a while,” I said.
Reluctantly, he put the side stand down and climbed off his bike. I climbed off my scooter and we stepped up onto the boardwalk. Off-key country and Western music emanated from the building. I pushed open the doors and we stepped inside. Bone Crusher stopped and we gazed about. A few people sat at the counter. A few others sat at tables throughout the room. A disheveled country band wearing long black coats played music on a stage in a small bar room to the left of the diner.
“I’ll get us a table,” I said and led Bone Crusher to a small table in the center of the diner. A red and white checkerboard-style tablecloth covered the table.
“This place looks familiar,” Bone Crusher said.
“It should. It’s a pale imitation of the diner in Harlem Springs. If you glance around, you might recognize some of these people,” I said.
Bone Crusher gazed about and his bottom jaw dropped in shock. The waitress came over to the table with a smile on her face. “Oh God, that’s my mom. What’s she doing here?” Bone Crusher’s eyes dropped to the tabletop. “She doesn’t deserve to be in this place.”
“She’s here for you. They all are. Look, you’ll recognize the guy behind the counter and that dude sitting on the end closest to us,” I said.
“The dude behind the counter is my father, and the one on the end of the counter is the neighbor up the street. What do you mean they’re here for me?”
“Each one of these people, including myself, left their version of heaven to come here. We came to help get you off this highway.”
“What can I get you boys?” the woman asked.
“We’ll have coffee and a piece of, pie, if you’ve got it,” I said.
“Sure we got pie. I’ll bring a piece of apple pie, that was your favorite,” the woman said.
Bone Crusher looked up, his eyes brimming up with tears from the guilt and grief eating his soul. “Mom, I’m so sorry for everything I put you through. Tell Dad I’m sorry too. Can you ever forgive me?”
The smile on the woman’s face deepened. “I forgave you a long time ago. Even though you hurt your poppa and me by your wild violent ways, a mother’s love is hard to kill.” She laid her hand on Bone Crusher’s shoulder. “It’s all about the love, son. That’s the only thing you can take with you when you die.”
“When you bring that coffee, why don’t you and your husband come over and sit with us,” I said.
She nodded and headed toward the serving counter. A few seconds later, she came back carrying a tray with four cups of coffee, and a middle-aged man walked beside her. They sat down at the table.
“Introduce me to your friend son,” the gray-headed old man said.
“You know, I never did get his name,” Bone Crusher said.
“My name’s John Brown, but my bros call me Cave Man,” I said.
Bone Crusher looked up at his father. “I’m so sorry Dad. If I hadn’t put you through so much, you wouldn’t have had that heart attack. The stress. It was all my fault.”
“Son, my ticker ran out. It didn’t help that I smoked like a damn chimney. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I’m so sorry Dad. Can you ever forgive me?”
“Son, if there was anything that needed forgiving, I forgave it years ago. You’re my boy, my pride and joy.”
“Are you starting to get the picture now?” I asked. We sat there enjoying some coffee and quiet conversation for a few minutes. The bell hanging over the door tinkled.
“We’d best get back to work, old man. We’ve got more customers,” Bone Crusher’s mother said, and they stood up. Bone Crusher glanced toward the front door. A skinny woman with three children entered the diner.
“Oh, God. That’s my ex-wife Cynthia and our kids.”
The woman, with her children in tow, stormed into the room like a hurricane. She sat down at the table across from Bone Crusher.
“I’ll bring more coffee,” Bone Crusher’s mother said.
“Cynthia, I-”
“Don’t say a word! Shut up and listen!” she yelled holding up her hands up palm out. “Yeah, you beat me; yeah you went and got yourself hooked on drugs and me along with you! You went out with other women! You were a miserable husband and a miserable father when you were alive, but you were strong! You never sat around feeling sorry for yourself! I left you. I got off the drugs, married a good man and we provided a good life for your children! I stopped being mad at you a long time ago! I forgave you. Everyone has! You were an asshole, but get over it! Those times are gone! You need to forgive yourself and get off that damned highway!”
“A man little sister,” I said.
As we sat there talking, Cynthia and her children’s appearance began to change. She looked healthier and happy. The kids didn’t look malnourished anymore. They looked like healthy, happy children. Bone Crusher’s mother brought pie, so we had pie with our coffee. A few minutes later, Cynthia stood up, bent down, kissed Bone Crusher on the cheek, and said, “I love you. I always have.” She took her kids in tow and left the restaurant.
“We’d better get back on the road,” Bone Crusher said.
I laughed and shook my head. “No, there are still some people you need to see.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that,” Bone Crusher said.
Five soldiers sauntered into the diner, their eyes roving across the room. They moved to the table, remaining as silent as a legion of ghosts.
“Aren’t you gonna ask us to sit down?” a soldier with sandy blond hair asked.
Bone Crusher sighed. “Yeah, sit. You might as well say your piece. Everyone else has.”
The soldiers leaned their weapons against the table and sat down.
“This is Cave Man,” Bone Crusher said.
I nodded. “I was over there too bro,” I said.
Bone Crusher’s eyes watered. “Look man, I’m sorry. I should have been over there with you guys, but I was a chicken shit. I ran away to Canada for a few months. Can you guys ever forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive. Shit Bob, I wish I would have gone to Canada too,” the squad leader said. There were nods around the table. “Charlie ambushed our patrol in the A Shau Valley. The damned bastards in their black pajamas killed us all. If you would have been there with us, they would have killed you too.”
We sat there for a half-hour talking with the GIs and I began to see a change come over Bone Crusher. The look of desperation and despair left his face, and I swear to God he even cracked a smile. The soldiers ordered a beer from the bar. We sat around talking, laughing, and drinking like old friends. Finally, the soldiers left the bar and it was Bone Crusher and I sitting at the table.
“Everyone you’ve met tonight came here because they love you, man. You thought they hated you and blamed you for things that happened in your life, but you were wrong. They let it go. Now it’s time for you to let go,” I said.
“Let go of what?” Bone Crusher asked.
“Let go of your guilt. What happened back then when you were alive is, lost in the stream of time. Is there anyone you need to forgive, anyone that has wronged you?”
Bone Crusher looked me dead in the eyes. “There’s you maybe”
“You’re right. I killed you. I was protecting a brother, but still, I took your life. I’m asking you now to forgive me,” I said.
A tear tracked down Bone Crusher’s face. “Yeah, okay. I forgive you, man. I would have killed you too if things had turned out differently.”
When he spoke those words, a look of peace crossed Bone Crusher’s face.
“Is there anyone else?” I asked.
Bone Crusher thought for a moment and then said, “No man, I don’t think so.”
“You’re wrong, bro. You need to forgive yourself. All the guilt, regret, hate, you got to let it go. It’s like your mother said, it’s all about love. Love is the only thing you can take with you when you die.”
An indecisive look crossed Bone Crusher’s face. “Let’s go, man.”
“Go where? You still want to ride that highway out there?”
“Right now man, it’s the only road I know,” Bone Crusher said.
We climbed on our scooters, fired up the beast, and headed down the highway. An unholy silence filled the air. We stopped at the crossroads.
“Look bro, this is where we part ways. I’m heading back to Biker Heaven. If I stay on this highway any longer, I’ll be stuck like you. You’ve got a choice to make,” I said.
“Biker Heaven, what’s it like?” Bone Crusher asked.
“It’s, great man. The party never stops,” I said.
“You’re in the Road Dogs. I rode with the Death Heads. Won’t there be trouble?” Bone Crusher asked.
“It’s not like that bro. All the old club revelries are gone. We have a group of troubleshooters; it’s sort of a division of the Road Dogs called the Halo Riders. We get to go back to Earth sometimes and help out when there’s trouble in the biker world. Some other clubs up here want in on that. We voted on it in church the other day. The vote was unanimous.”
“I wouldn’t mind being in on something like that, so lead the way, bro. Let’s go home.”
A grin spread across my face. “Now you’re talkin’,” I said and took a right turn following the sign that pointed the way to Biker Heaven. Once we left, the Lost Highway, our bikes changed into dazzling steeds of chrome and light. A shit-eating grin crossed Bone Crusher’s face; we pulled up on the handlebars and shot up into the heavens.
***
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