Let Go of the Past

Hello everyone. I hope you are having a wonderful Sunday. It’s a beautiful day up here in the high desert of Southern California. Before I get into my topic, I’d like to let you know a little bit about what’s going on with me. Regarding my writing, I am almost finished with the rough draft of my new novel, Gone Missing. I still have two or maybe three more chapters to go. I also have an audiobook back from the narrator. There is always something that I need to do. Yesterday I competed in a Karate tournament. I didn’t place but I had a great time. I did a weapons form, I spared and kept score. It was a busy day. I was living my best life and doing things that I enjoy.

How many of you have things that happened in your past that prevent you from manifesting the things that you want and desire? It could be beliefs about money, negative feelings about people, or feelings of lack or of being unworthy. It could be hard feelings toward another person over something that happened in the past. I know I am dealing with some of those. An example. About fifteen years ago when I was single, I went to the grocery store to stock up on two weeks’ worth of groceries. When I got to the checkout line and was about to pay for my groceries, the young woman at the counter scolded me for how much stuff I had in my cart. She said that living alone like I did, I didn’t need to buy that much stuff. This embarrassed me and pissed me off. I started to leave the cart where it set and walk out of the store, but I needed the groceries so I bit my tongue and paid for groceries. Now, over fifteen years later that woman still works in the grocery store where I shop sometimes. When I see her that instantly comes to mind even though it happened over fifteen years ago. She probably doesn’t even remember it. I need to let it go, so I purposefully get into her checkout lane and treat her with the utmost respect and courtesy.

What if there was a way to mentally time travel to your past and change the negative things that happened to you so that they no longer affect your present or your future? I’m not talking about jumping into a time machine and physically going to the past, though that would be way cool. What I am talking about is mental time travel. Going back to your past and getting rid of those negative emotions. Let them go so that you can live in the moment. Let them go so you can manifest miracles in your life. The mental Time Travel System can do that for you. The Mental Time Travel System is a course that helps you revisit your past to get rid of the things that are holding you back mentally and manifest your best life. I encourage you all to live in the moment and create your best life. Peace out

And now for your reading pleasure, the Battle for Europa chapter 5.

Chapter 5

David Gallagher and Alonzo Garcia stepped off the bus. They stood in front of the shuttle port on the naval base in San Diego. A cold breeze hit them in the face coming in off the ocean. In the bay, a tugboat blew its foghorn. Two men in naval uniforms passed by glancing over at the crowd of young men gathered in front of the spaceport. David and Alonzo followed the crowd of inductees into the shuttle port and stepped into the lobby falling into line at a reception desk.

The sound of excited conversation echoed through the room. David gazed about taking in the white marble tile on the floor and the pictures of old sailing vessels adorning the walls. Several wooden desks were set throughout the room. Lines of people stood at each desk. They stepped into one of the lines. When David reached the front of the line, a cute young woman wearing a naval uniform looked up and smiled. “Wave your chip across my scanner.” Breathing in her sweet perfume, David passed his wrist across a little black box on her desk. A printer setting behind the young woman squealed and printed out his ticket and boarding pass. “There is a bank of turbo lifts to your left. Take one up to the fifth-floor lobby. Your flight leaves in forty-five minutes.” She handed him his paperwork.

“Thank you, Miss.” David returned her smile and stepped out of line. After Alonzo received his ticket and boarding pass, he stepped up next to David.

“What time do you fly out?” David asked. He had to shout over the noise in the crowded lobby.

“Eight forty-five. How about you?”

David Glanced at Alonzo’s paperwork. “We’re on the same flight.”

They crossed the lobby to the turbo lifts elbowing their way through the crowd. When they reached the lifts, David ran his hand across a scan pad next to the door. The door opened, and they stepped inside. “Fifth floor.” The turbo lift’s voice-activated sensors put the machine in motion. They felt their stomachs drop and heard a slight whirring noise as the turbo lift shot up to the fifth floor. The doors opened and they stepped into a smaller, but no less crowded lobby. Looking across the room, David saw the terminal doors leading out to the shuttle pad. To the left of the terminal doors, set a bar and a lounge. “Let’s have a beer while we wait.” Loud neo-pop music emanated from the lounge.

Alonzo glanced down at his paperwork. “What flight are we on again?”

“Flight four zero seven. Why?”

“I don’t want to miss our flight when they call it over the PA.”

“We’ve got a forty-five-minute wait. This place should start to thin out a bit by then.” They wormed their way through the crowd to the bar.

“What can I get you boys?” a dark-haired waitress asked. She wore a skintight cocktail dress, cut low in the front that left little to the imagination. David inhaled her cheap perfume and checked out a field of tiny freckles displayed on the top of the woman’s breasts. He glanced down at the deep valley of cleavage for a second then his eyes darted back up to her face.

“A beer for me and my buddy. Make it two Blue Bombs.”

She gave him a seductive smile. “We don’t have it. All we have is the house blend on draft.”

“I guess that will have to do then,” David said staring into her almond-colored eyes. The waitress poured them each a beer and they sat at the bar. “I can’t believe it. We’re finally getting out of Diego.”

“I know. This town can kiss my ass goodbye.” Alonzo held up his glass. “A toast. To our new lives in the Federal Defense Forces. Who knows? If I like it, I could make a career out of it.”

David shook his head. “I’ll drink to that, but I doubt if I’ll do more than one hitch.” David raised his glass into the air.

Thirty-five minutes later, a computerized voice came over the room’s PA system. It announced that passengers could now board flights 407, 408, 409, and 410. David and Alonzo, both half-drunk, headed to the terminal gates. They stepped through the gates onto the shuttle pad. A cold ocean breeze hit them in the face once more while they headed toward the waiting shuttles.

“You can see the whole world from up here,” Alonzo said glancing about. From the vantage point on the fifth floor, not only could they see the entire base, but the entire city of San Diego. Off in the distance, they saw the dark blue water of the Pacific Ocean. A strong cold wind coming in off the water buffeted them.

“You better take a good look. We might not be back here for a long time.”

“Maybe never.” They stepped into the boarding line and handed a young man in an Air Force uniform their tickets and boarding passes.

“Welcome aboard, Mr. Garcia and Mr. Gallagher. I am Lieutenant Cunningham. I will be your flight attendant on this trip. Come aboard and find a seat where ever you like.”

“Thank you, sir,” Alonzo said, giving the young officer a drunken salute. They staggered up the boarding ramp and found seats on the left halfway up the aisle. David took a seat by the window and Alonzo took the seat next to the aisle.

“This is your pilot speaking. Welcome aboard. Please strap yourselves in. We will be taking off shortly. You are looking at a thirty-minute flight to Frisco and your new life in the Federal Defense Forces. Sit back and enjoy the ride. Your flight attendant will be handing out food and beverages. Please put on your seat belts now,” the voice of the shuttle pilot said coming over the PA system. The flight attendant closed the outer hatch. He helped people with their seatbelts, and then found a seat at the rear of the shuttle and strapped himself in. The pilot applied thrust; the shuttle rose off the pad and headed north. Once airborne, the flight attendant unfastened his seatbelt. He headed up the aisle passing out beverages.

“What will it be Gentlemen?” the flight attendant said when he stopped next to David and Alonzo’s seats.

“Give us each a beer,” David said. The flight attendant handed each a plastic bottle filled with beer. A loud cheer went up from the passengers when the shuttle passed over the city. The shuttle headed north to San Francisco.

***

They touched down on the landing pad on a naval base in San Francisco. The passengers boarded shuttle buses and headed to the induction center. The holographic image of a bus driver on the VID screen at the front of the bus kept up an ongoing commentary. He pointed out various buildings and landmarks along the route. The bus pulled up to the curb in front of a large brick building painted white. A banner strung across the front of the building in bold red letters said: Welcome Inductees. David and Alonzo followed the crowd to the Induction Center. Inside, several receptionists sat at tables. Across the lobby, a set of double doors set in the far wall behind the reception desks. Outside, more shuttle buses arrived bringing more inductees. David and Alonzo fell into line at the nearest table. When they reached the front of the line, a dark-haired lieutenant looked up and smiled. David couldn’t help but notice the cute little dimples in her cheeks, and her fresh scent. He thought she smelled as though she just stepped from the shower.

“Good morning. If you’ll run your wrist over my scanner, I’ll print up your records.” David ran his hand over the stationary scanning device on the reception desk. A printer behind the lieutenant printed up David’s school records. It printed his medical records plus all his background information. “Proceed to stage one. That will be in the orientation room. Go through the doors behind me. The orientation room will be the first door on your left when you head down the hallway.” She handed David his records.

“Thank you,” David said and then stepped out of line waiting for Alonzo. They crossed the lobby, stepped through the set of green doors, and into a long hallway that seemed to run on forever. Green tile covered the floor and brown wooden doors were evenly spaced on both sides of the hallway. They stopped at the first door on their left, where a gold plaque over the door said: Orientation Room. A blonde-haired female Air Force lieutenant standing by the door smiled.

“If you gentlemen will step inside and find a seat, we’ll get started as soon as the room fills up.” They stepped into a rectangular-shaped room. David glanced about for a second. Several tables were set perpendicular to a raised platform. A green carpet covered the stage. A small podium was set in its center, and military officers sat in chairs on the stage facing the tables. Pencils and stacks of paperwork were set on the tables in front of each chair. David and Alonzo made their way to the front of the room, sat down, and talked quietly while the room filled up with people.

A young naval officer stepped up to the podium. “Welcome to orientation. I am Ensign Blackwell. You can expect a full day of testing mental, physical, and physiological. As you can see, we will be doing things the old-fashioned way, today. Our digital pad system is down. Setting before you are some forms for you to fill out. They ask various questions about your background and interest. The last form asks you to choose which branch of federal service you are most interested in. I would ask that you save that form until you have heard from the men standing behind me. The Federal Defense Forces allow its inductees some choice in their assignments. As always, the needs of the service come first. Now I’d like to introduce Lieutenant Goldenstein from the Army.”

A muscular man with sandy-colored hair wearing a CEU-Army uniform stepped up to the podium. “Gentlemen. I hope you’re enjoying yourself so far. If you choose the Army, you can look forward to a grand adventure. You will do your boot camp at Fort Campbell Kentucky. You will serve your first term of enlistment on the moon or Mars. If you’re lucky, you might land an assignment here on Earth serving as peacekeepers. There is always some brush fire war popping up that we have to deal with. There is an element in the colonies, on the moon and Mars that is a constant source of irritation. It is the Army’s responsibility to deal with these miss guided insurrectionists. If you choose the Army, if you apply yourself and work hard, the chances for advancement are good. I won’t take up any more of your time. Thank you.”

He stepped away from the podium and then Ensign Blackwell stepped back up to the microphone. “Now we’ll hear from Lieutenant Baker from Fleet Marines.” A stocky, muscular man with dark hair and bulging biceps stood before the group.

“Hoorah! If you choose to serve with the Fleet Marines, you will serve on our space-going vessels. You could serve as peacekeepers here on Earth or Mars. You might get a shot at an Earth assignment and spend some time at sea. Those assignments usually go to second-term enlistments. If the brass assigns you to the space-born Fleet Marines, you will do your boot camp on the moon. If they assign you to the planet side division, you will do boot camp in San Diego.”

“I don’t want to go back there,” Alonzo whispered.

“I hear you. I’m choosing Fleet Marines, Space Division.”

“Let’s wait until we hear what the guys from the other branches have to say.” An Air Force officer replaced the marine lieutenant. He explained that as airmen, they would serve with the space fleet as shuttle pilots or mechanics and that you might serve on Earth at the various airbases. He said that if you went to flight school, you would fly air support for the Army or Marines and that in the Air Force, you would do your boot camp either in Texas or on the moon.

Another naval officer stepped to the podium, looked out at the inductees, and smiled. “Gentlemen. If you join the Navy, you will serve with the fleet in space or on one of the surface vessels on Earth. If you receive orders for the space division, you will do boot camp on the moon. If your orders assign you to the straight-leg Navy on Earth, you will do your boot camp in New Chicago, up by the Great Lakes. Either way, you are in for an adventure. You could also serve at one of the space stations orbiting Earth or Mars.” He paused and then said, “See the solar system, sail the world’s oceans, join the Navy.”

“I thought we were inductees? This guy acts like we have a choice,” David whispered.

“We can choose. It all depends on the numbers. The only thing we can’t choose is to say the hell with this shit and go home.” David let out a muffled giggle. He was feeling the effects of the alcohol they drank earlier, and a few heads turned giving him stern looks.

An officer from the Planetary Patrol Force stood behind the podium. He looked out at the inductees and smiled. “The PPF is a fast reaction force that spends most of its time chasing smugglers or pirates. We are the first ones the brass calls on when there is trouble anywhere in the solar system. If you join the PPF, you will do your boot camp on the moon and serve in space. Thank you,” the man said and then sat down.

Ensign Blackwell stepped back up to the podium. “Please fill out your last form choosing which branch of the service you would like to serve. Take your forms to the room across the hall for stage two of induction. That will be a physiological and political evaluation.”

“What are you choosing?” Alonzo asked.

“I told you. Fleet Marines, Space Division.” David filled out the last form. Finished with their paperwork, they stepped out the door. Another group of inductees filled the orientation room. They stepped through a doorway on the right side of the hallway. A plaque in the center of the door said: Stage Two, Psychological and political Evaluation. The room was filled with small desks and chairs like those used in school. More papers and pencils were set on the desk. Five small offices with glass windows were at the front of the room.

A young female naval officer standing at the front of the room smiled. “Inductees. Before you on each desk set a one hundred question test. There are no wrong or right answers. Answer the questions truthfully to the best of your ability. After you’re finished, remain seated. When you hear your name called, report to whichever evaluator calls your name. The evaluations will be in one of the offices behind me. Let’s start the test people. We have a lot of people to process today.”

David and Alonzo picked up their pencils and went to work on the test. The test consisted of true or false questions and some multiple-choice questions. There were also some abstract reasoning questions mixed in. David’s head pounded and he found it hard to concentrate. God, I drank too much beer.

After finishing the test, they sat back to wait, and after a few minutes, a fat man dressed in a black suit stepped out of one of the offices up front.

“Is there a Mr. David Gallagher here?” he asked.

“I’m Gallagher.” David made his way to the front.

“Come in. Have a seat, young man.” David followed him through the brown door. He sat down in an office chair across the desk from the fat political officer and handed over his paperwork breathing in the smell of stale tobacco and cheap whiskey.

“How are things going this morning?”

“Everything’s fine. Hectic, but fine,” David said.

“I see here that you chose the Fleet Marines Space Division to serve in. Why is that?”

“I want to get off the planet and see the solar system.”

“Yes. It’s an adventure out there. What we are going to do is I am going to ask you a series of questions. I want to answer with the first thing that comes off the top of your head. Do you think you can handle that?”

“Piece of cake.”

“Okay. Here we go. The first question.” He asked David questions about his loyalty to the Council of Economic Unions, his belief system, his value system, and his plans for the future. When he finished with his questions, the political officer looked up and smiled. “Your name got red-flagged on the computer. It is because of your relationship with someone named Shawn Gallagher. Do you know this person?”

David sighed, feeling the heat rise on his face. “He’s my brother.”

“It seems that your brother is part of some insurrectionist activities. He’s right in the middle of this work stoppage on Europa. There are rumors that he is part of a terrorist group, known as the People’s Fist. If that is true, when the federal forces catch him, he faces execution. What are your feelings about your brother’s activities? Do you share his nationalistic and insurrectionist views?”

“No. My loyalties lie with the federal system. It’s what pulled us out of the chaos of World War Three. My brother is a troublemaker. He has been from the time he was little until now.”

“Then you don’t approve of his activities?”

“No. We don’t even get along.”

“What if you get assigned to a mission to apprehend your brother? Let’s say your superiors ordered you to use deadly force if he resisted. If not, you are to bring him in for trial and execution?”

David paused. “I would do my duty. I wouldn’t like it, but I would do my duty.”

“Good. I realize that you shouldn’t have to pay for your brother’s sins. Even though the state should come first, some people let family ties get in the way of doing what is right. I’ll let you proceed with induction. I’m going to mark your paperwork so that the political adviser at your first assignment can keep an eye on you. If you ever need to talk the door to your political advisor’s office will always be open.” The political officer looked at the digital clock embedded in his wrist and said, “It’s almost noon. Go to the cafeteria and get some chow. Report to stage three at one AM for your physical and your strength and agility testing.”

“Thank you, sir.” David took back his paperwork, stepped out the door, and exited the room. When he stepped out into the main hallway, David found Alonzo waiting for him.

“How’d it go?” Alonzo asked.

“All right. They gave me some shit about my brother. That asshole is always getting his ass in a sling. It makes me mad when I get dragged into his bullshit.”

“Forget about it. Let’s go get some chow.”

They followed the crowd down to the cafeteria, stepped into line and moved their trays down a buffet-style counter, and breathed in the rich aroma of freshly cooked food. David’s stomach rumbled. They heaped mounds of mashed potatoes and gravy onto a hot roast beef sandwich. They had French fries, some fruit, and a glass of fruit punch to drink.

“The grub doesn’t look too bad,” Alonzo said after they sat down.

David gazed about the room. Half of the inductees were good-looking females. “No. I could survive on this.”

“What did you think about the written test? What did you put for question seventeen? It went something like this. If your ship was about to explode, but you only had room for one other person on your escape pod, who would you, choose? The answers were, A, your best friend, B, your captain, C, your political advisor D, whoever is closest to you, or E, none of the above.”

“I put E. None of the above. I’d get the hell out of there,” David said.

“I picked D. But it would be the nearest good-looking female.” Alonzo laughed, diving into his hot roast beef sandwich. “They wanted you to say, C, your political advisor.”

“Screw the Political Advisor.” Finished with lunch, they headed out into the hallway and entered a door on their right with the words: Stage Three written over the door. A long line of tables was set in the center of the room and inductees stood facing a doorway on the other end of the room. Across the tables from the inductees stood a group of medical personnel. Next to each inductee set a large canvas bag. A good-looking young female inductee stood in front of David.

“Take off your clothes and put them in the bag, next to you on the table,” the head nurse standing at the head of the line said. David blushed and hesitated for a few seconds.

“Let’s go, inductee. We don’t have all day,” a young nurse standing next to David said. David stripped out of his clothes and put them in the bag as instructed. The young female inductee in front of David took off her clothes. David’s eyes dropped to her shapely bottom. He felt something stir in his lower regions.

“Do you have an eye problem inductee? Keep your eyes up and point them straight forward,” the female nurse standing next to David said. David’s face turned crimson.

The doctors and nurses gave each one of them a thorough physical exam which included several inoculations. They took DNA samples and had their eyes and ears examined. The nurses ran bio scanners over their bodies checking their internal organs. The doctors and nurses poked and prodded the inductees for over an hour. A nurse took their fingerprints and copies of their retinas with a scanner. She took samples of hair follicles. When the exam was over, a nurse near the doorway at the end of the room handed them each a set of gym trunks and a t-shirt.

“Step through this doorway and form up on the bulkhead to your right. Your strength and agility test will begin in ten minutes.”

David and Alonzo took their gym shorts and t-shirts and headed through the door. They put on their workout clothes and leaned against the bulkhead behind them. The girl standing next to David who had been in front of him in line smiled.

“I heard you get in trouble back there.”

“Yeah. So sue me. You’ve got a nice ass.” David laughed.

She let out a giggle. “I’m glad that parts over. It’s kind of embarrassing stripping like that in front of everybody. I’m surprised that they didn’t separate the sexes.”

“They’re trying to herd us through like cattle. They’re more concerned about quantity than modesty.” David gazed across the room and saw chin-up bars and weight lifting equipment. There was a rappelling tower and an obstacle course. On the far side of the obstacle course set several machines. There was a stair stepper and a treadmill, but there were a few that he didn’t recognize. Four physical fitness instructors stepped up to the inductees. Two were male and two were female.

“Inductees. Let’s step away from the wall and do some stretching exercises. Then we will pair up and do some exercises to see how physically fit you people are,” the head instructor said. He was a fifty-year-old man with bulging biceps and six-pack abs said. David paired up with the young woman standing next to him. They went through a rigorous ordeal and had to do as many sit-ups, pushups, deep knee bends, leg lifts, and squats as they could; it was a timed test. David’s head pounded; sweat cropped up, on his forehead and he smelled like beer. After that, they ran an obstacle course where they climbed over walls and ran through a row of rubber tires. David climbed up a wooden tower using ropes to slide back down when they were through. By the time he finished the obstacle course, was soaked in sweat and his body hurt but his hangover was gone.

The instructors allowed them a five-minute rest break. Then they started the strength test. They lifted weights with their legs and bench pressed as much weight as they could lift. The instructor had them use a machine where they stood on its platform and pulled two rings with their hands. The machine applied resistance. It measured the foot-pounds of pressure that they pulled with their arms. The machine caused their arms to ache. After they finished, they ran on the treadmill until near exhaustion. The instructors moved the inductees back to the bulkhead.

“That will be enough people. Hit the showers to my left. Put your street clothes back on and put the gym trunks and t-shirt in the laundry hamper by the door to the showers. After that, report to stage four of induction. That will be in the last room on the left-hand side of the hallway. It’s on the far end opposite from where you first entered this morning!”

The inductees headed to the showers. The physical fitness instructors stood at the doorway watching. They made sure that no sexual conduct occurred in the shower. David and Alonzo couldn’t help but make fugitive glances at the female inductees while they lathered up their naked bodies.

“Madre Dios, look at them titties,” Alonzo whispered.

“Good Lord God almighty! I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

“Do you two inductees have an eye problem? Finish up and get dressed! We’ve got more inductees waiting for the shower!” the woman standing guard at the door yelled.

“Yes ma’am!” David and Alonzo both yelled. Finished in the shower, they put their street clothes back on and headed to the main hallway. They entered the last door on their left. A naval officer stood on a raised platform. Behind the platform hung the flags from the various Economic Unions. There was also the blue-green flag of the Council of Economic Unions.

“Step to the front of the room and make room for as many people as possible! Once I administer the oath, report to stage five, which is out-processing! Go through the double doors at the opposite end of the hallway that you entered this morning! Out processing is in the south end lobby!” the naval officer said.

The room filled up. The naval officer on the platform issued an oath of allegiance to the Council of Economic Unions. After swearing their oaths, David and Alonzo, followed the crowd, back out into the hallway. They stepped through the double doors on the south end of the building and waited in line at an out-processing desk.

A red-headed female naval officer shot David a quick smile. She took his paperwork and put his papers on a portable scanner. The scanner downloaded them into the computer system. She printed up his orders and handed him the paperwork. “The Federal Defense Forces have assigned you to the Fleet Marines, Space Division. Your boot camp will be on the moon. You are on flight seven twenty-nine. Your flight leaves the shuttle port tonight at twenty hundred hours. That will take you to the spacedock where you will catch a troop transport to the lunar colonies. Show your orders to the clerk at the spacedock and they will direct you to the right ship. You have an advance in your first month’s pay of one hundred credits for meals. Good luck inductee.”

“Thank you,” David said. He stepped out of line and waited for Alonzo. When Alonzo received his orders, he stepped up next to David and glanced at David’s orders.

“We’re on the same flight. We’re both in Fleet Marines and headed to boot camp on the moon. I hope they put us in the same platoon,” Alonzo said.

“Let’s get out of here and catch a bus to the spaceport.” They caught the shuttle bus and at the spaceport, David used some of his credits to buy dinner. Alonzo bought the beer. The announcer called their flight. They staggered outside and up the shuttle’s boarding ramp. Alonzo found two empty seats in the back of the shuttle. The shuttle lifted off the landing pad, the pilot applied thrust and the Gee forces shoved them back into their seats. The shuttle reached orbit. Alonzo looked out his porthole at the Earth rotating below.

“Take a good look bro. It may be a long time before we see old Mother Earth again. I almost wish I was back in Diego.”

***

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Fear is the Mind Killer

Fear for life during coronavirus outbreak background

Image by Rawpixle

Hello everyone this is Dave the Miracle Maker and I hope you are all doing well. I have been up to my usual, reading, writing, working on my online business, practicing martial arts, riding my motorcycle, and working on becoming the best Dave that I can be. Today I would like to talk a little bit about fear. Fear is not necessarily a bad thing if you learn how to deal with it, but if you let it control you and cloud your better judgment it can keep you from manifesting your best life. It doesn’t matter if it is fear of the Coronavirus, fear of rejection, fear of poverty, or fear of spiders and snakes. Face your fears. If you are trying to manifest more money, or the perfect significant other, fear of rejection or failure can cause you to procrastinate and miss out on opportunities. Fear of rejection can cause you not to approach the person that you are attracted to and possibly miss out on the love of your life. Fear of failure can cause you to not jump at that business opportunity that could make you rich.

I like to both read and write science fiction. Several years ago I read the novel, Dune by Frank Herbert. In the novel, the main character had a mantra that he would say before going into battle. He would say, “I have no fear. Fear is the mind-killer.” Fear is indeed the mind-killer. It is a disempowering emotion that will prevent you from getting what you are trying to manifest. The Genie Script which I reviewed in my last post and am still using will help you to get rid of disempowering emotions such as fear, feelings of lack, and feeling of unworthiness as you reprogram your mind for wealth success, and happiness. I encourage you to check it out. Face your fears and manifest a miracle in your life. Until next time this is Dave the Miracle Maker wishing you all the best.

Now for your reading pleasure read chapter four of my science fiction novel the Battle for Europa.

Chapter 4

Shawn Gallagher sat at a table, inside the communications center on Europa. His friend John Wilson stood across from him adjusting a video camera on its stand. Sitting at the table were a few more of Shawn’s closest friends. Sweat cropped up on Shawn’s forehead and dripped down the side of his face. A nervous ball sank into the pit of his stomach. After making this transmission, there would be no turning back. It would appear on the VID screens all across the colonies. People would view it on the moons of Saturn and Mars as well as the lunar colonies. It would also appear on every VID screen on Earth. If this effort fails, the Council of Economic Unions will brand us as traitors to the federal system. At best, we’ll receive a thirty-year sentence in a penal colony on the dark side of Earth’s moon. The other alternative is a death sentence: a laser bolt to the back of the head.

“We’re set to go live when you are,” John said. “Are you ready to make history?” Shawn brushed sweat from his forehead and his mind flashed back, reliving the events of the past few days.

***

After stashing the guns and other equipment at mining site D, Shawn rode the turbo lift out of the mines and put on his EVA suit. He exited the complex, turned up the heat on his EVA suit, and sent a message. He used an illegal electronic device, which he plugged into the com-link on his suit. A small light on the device turned green indicating that the signal was live. “Strike the blow with the People’s Fist,” Shawn said. When the miners received the code phrase they put down their tools. They turned off their boring machines which they used to dig into the interior of the moon. Their job was to harvest large chunks of ice for use on Mars and Earth’s moon for its water content. They headed to the turbo lifts. One of the shift supervisors stepped in front of the miners making their way to the lift.

“Where do you men think you’re going? Your shift’s not over yet,” the supervisor said. A big burly miner knocked him on his ass.

“It is now,” he said.

“I’m calling security!” the supervisor yelled, wiping a drop of blood from his mouth.

The first shift crew put on their EVA suits. They headed to the exits and formed a line in front of the domed structures housing the mining facilities. The second shift crew joined them. By the time security received the transmission from the shift supervisor, it was too late. The security guards on the perimeter watch saw the miners exit the facility. One of them stepped up to the same burly miner that had knocked the shift supervision on his ass.

“What are you men doing?” the security guard asked.

“We’re on strike,” the miner said.

“You can’t do that. It’s against the law.”

“So call a cop,” the miner said and knocked that security guard on his ass as well. The miners picked up fist-sized balls of ice and pelted the security guards with them. Tiny flakes of ice flew into the air; the guards retreated to their vehicles and called for backup. The miners on Titan received the transmission and turned off their vacuum pumps. They used the pumps to harvest liquid methane gas. They returned to their base, formed picket lines, and had a similar confrontation with security, as did the miners on Europa.

The tanker ships orbiting Jupiter and Saturn turned off their ram scoops. They used the scoops to collect hydrogen and helium-3. Their captains turned their vessels around heading for the nearest moon. The moons orbiting Jupiter and Saturn soon looked like giant parking lots. The first tanker left Jupiter’s orbit.

“Traffic control to CEU-Gladiator. You haven’t had time to fill your tanks. Why are you breaking orbit? You have orders to proceed to Mars with your load. Why are you diverting to Europa?” the female traffic controller asked.

The ship’s communications officer looked at her captain.

“Tell her we’re on strike,” the captain said. The communications officer relayed the captain’s response.

The traffic controller’s jaw dropped. “What you can’t do that? It’s against the law.”

The captain touched the com-link on his console overriding the communications officer. “So arrest us. End transmission.”

Byron Lee, the head of security, received a transmission from all the mining sites on the surface. The striking miners had turned into a mob in front of each complex. He didn’t have enough men to handle the situation. He contacted all available personnel including guards who were off duty and asleep. He called a few officers at some of the colony’s drinking establishments and eateries. They received transmissions on their com-links with orders to report for duty at once. The head of security set up a duty roster. He kept half of his guards on duty for twelve standard Earth hours while the other half rested. If this lasts too long, I’ll need more people. He sent a text message to Consolidated Security headquarters on Earth.

Shawn went to the employee housing area. He retrieved picket signs and ax handles, which he handed out to the striking miners. Excitement buzzed through the air. The miners who weren’t on picket duty gathered in their common room. They watched what was happening outside on a VID screen. Six hours into the strike, a woman from Solar One News got word of the strike. She flew down to the surface of Europa in her small space cruiser and caught up with Shawn in front of the main mining complex. Shawn consented to the interview.

Twenty-three hours into the strike, Byron Lee sat at his desk asleep. He had his head in his hands letting out gentle snoring sounds, and drool dribbled down the side of his cheek. Half of his guards were in the locker room gearing up to relieve the guards outside dealing with the miners. After the first two hours, his guards set up barricades to separate them from the mob. The miners had settled down, somewhat. Instead of pelting the security guards with a barrage of ice balls, they only shouted curse words. Now and then they lobbed a ball of ice over the barricades.

Byron manned the com-center in the office waiting to hear from headquarters on Earth. So far, there had been no word and he started to get sleepy. After being on duty for fourteen hours, he finally succumbed to sleep. The front door to his office banged open, Byron’s head popped up and he let out a snort. He looked up into the muzzle of an M-23 Blaster. His eyes widened and his bottom jaw sagged. Ten men, dressed in military fatigues and armed with shoulder-fired weapons, entered the room.

“Make a sound and I’ll burn a hole through your forehead,” Shawn said.

“What do you want?” Byron asked, raising his hands.

“Your men, the ones that you have in reserve to relieve those, outside, where are they?”

“Down the hall in the locker room getting ready.”

Shawn motioned for the other men to move down the hall. “Take me to the armory.” The assault team entered the locker room. They caught some of the security guards with their pants down. Shawn’s men rounded up the security guards in the locker room without incident. They stowed them away in their jail. Other miners entered the security complex. They took the weapons and armored EVA suits from the security guards, put them on, and exited the security center. They went outside to relieve the security guards on duty. The guards dealing with the miners on the picket line saw the men in Consolidated Security EVA suits. They figured that their relief had arrived early.

The miners, masquerading as security guards, took up positions behind the barricades. Shawn’s commandos met the returning security guards at gunpoint and escorted them to the brig to join their comrades. Three teams rounded up the management personnel inside the main complex. A group of supervisors fled deep into the mine and tried to put up a fight, but after a brief gun battle, they surrendered.

They detained the upper management personnel in the main office complex. The Executive in charge of mining operations on Europa woke from a sound sleep staring down the barrel of a gun.

“This is an outrage. You’ll do time for this,” he said. The surly miner prodded him with the gun barrel and escorted him to the brig.

“Don’t worry. No one’s going to get hurt. Once the council concedes our demands, your people will head back to Earth,” Shawn said. He locked the mining executive into the brig.  When the miners on the picket line received word that the entire facility was under their control, they threw down their signs and reentered the mining complex.

The last piece of business concerned the orbiting space stations. Assault teams stormed the stations orbiting Jupiter and Saturn. They attacked the complex detaining the workers and stormed aboard five vessels docked at the station. A PPF vessel arrived at Jupiter station right before the attack occurred. The PPF Special Forces team opened up on Shawn’s men with their M-23 Blasters. The assault teams boarded their vessel and killed five federal marines before the captain ordered his men to surrender. Shawn received word from the mining sites that the Jovian system was under their control. Their brothers on the moons of Saturn called in confirming that they had control of that system as well. Shawn headed to the main communication center.

He waited for word from his teams assaulting the orbiting space stations. The word came, announcing the success of the mission. A loud cheer erupted inside the communications center.

A big grin spread across Shawn’s face. “Gentlemen! This is a cause to celebrate! Jupiter and Saturn, along with their moons, are ours!” Shawn said standing to his feet. Men gathered around slapping him on the back. “Let’s head down to the galley and have the cook rustle us up some grub. We’ve got beer on ice! After that let’s get some sleep! It’s been a rough forty-eight hours! I will hold a briefing in the main assembly hall at zero eight hundred hours tomorrow morning. I will let everyone know where we go from here!” A day on Europa was roughly eighty-five days on Earth, but they operated on a standard twenty-four-hour clock. Shawn took a deep breath and yelled, “Can’t you smell it? I smell freedom in the air!” The men let out a loud cheer.

***

The miners occupying the assembly hall let out a whoop when Shawn and John entered the room. They rose to their feet clapping their hands filling the hall to capacity and beyond. Shawn stepped onto the stage and strolled over to the microphone. “Thank you. I called this briefing to let you people know what to expect, now that we have control of the facilities. How many of you served in the Federal Defense Forces?” Shawn asked and three-quarters of the crowd raised their hands.

“You will serve in our new military. We’ve accessed company personnel records. You will keep the same rank as you held in federal service. We need to organize into companies and start training. That will take place at site D and on the surface. We need to start building fighting positions. Those of you who have no past service in the federal forces can help with that. When the Council of Economic Unions gets the word of what we’ve done, they’ll send troops. We need to be ready.” Shawn paced back and forth in excitement and continued.

“What about our pay?” one of the miners asked.

“Most of you know that we have stores of gold, copper, and other precious metals hidden here on Europa. We are minting coins. The first order of business is to get rid of these biochips.” Shawn held his wrist in the air. “We’ll start that at the med center after this briefing. Tomorrow, those of you with past federal service will report to site D for induction. Others will form into work details to start building fighting positions on the surface. We will also use some of our lower levels here at site A for military training. Some of you will still be doing some mining on a limited scale.”

“How much time before the federal forces arrive?” someone yelled from the back of the room.

Shawn stopped pacing. “We should have at least six months before they can field a sizable force. That gives us some time to get ready.”

“What about our new government? When will we hold elections?” someone at the front of the room asked. Shawn stepped back and looked at Wilson. “John, you’re standing there in the background trying to look cool. Why don’t you answer that one?”

John laughed and stepped up to the microphone. “We will hold elections as soon as possible. We will elect a president, vice president, senators, and congressmen. We will write our Declaration of Independence, a bill of rights, and a constitution. They will be like the ancient documents from the forbidden zone. If the CEU recognizes us as a sovereign nation, we will petition them to allow our families to immigrate.”

“What if they refuse?” someone asked.

John shrugged. “Then they don’t get any helium-3, hydrogen, water ice, and liquid methane or deuterium crystals. When their ships run out of fuel, they’ll be more charitable.”

“What about the detainees?” a young woman standing to the right of the stage asked.

Shawn stepped back up to the microphone. “I’ll take this one, John. Once the Council of Economic Unions concedes to our demands, we will release them. They will be free to go back to Earth.”

“When are you going to announce our secession from the Council of Economic Unions?” a big burly miner in the middle of the crowd asked.

“At midnight tonight, Earth time I drop the bomb on the Council of Economic Unions and we make history. After that, the clock starts ticking. They’ll try to hammer us into submission, but if we can survive that, our future looks bright. It will take work. I envision domed cities filled with colonists building a better life. It will be better than it ever could have been under the current federal system. If there are no further questions, I’ll head over to the med center and get this damned biochip removed. Why don’t you people come and join me.” Shawn left the stage. The crowd cheered, rose to their feet, and began to slap them both on the back when they left the stage and headed for the door.

***

“Earth to Shawn Gallagher. Let’s go, buddy. You look like you zoned out there for a while. Are we ready to roll here, or what?” John asked, bringing Shawn’s mind back to the present.

Shawn laughed and rubbed the sweat from his brow. “Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s do it.” He waited for the light on the camera to turn green indicating that they were recording. Shawn tried to keep the flutter out of his voice. “Good evening. My name is Shawn Gallagher. I am the second shift team leader at the mining colonies on Europa. This message is going out to the colonist on Mars, the colonies on Earth’s moon, and, to everyone back home on Earth.” Shawn took a drink from a water bottle sitting next to him on the table. “If you’ve been watching the news, you are aware of the ancient documents found in the forbidden zone. The city, formerly known as Washington DC. I have copies of those documents in my possession and I am going to read them now. In the course of human events-”

Shawn read the ancient text of the United States Declaration of Independence. Then he read the Constitution of the United States of America. “We, the miners on the moons of Jupiter and Saturn have seized control of the mining facilities. We have also seized the colonies and the orbiting space stations orbiting both planets. All tankers hauling water ice, helium-3, hydrogen, and methane have been grounded. I now declare independence from the Council of Economic Unions and independence from the entire federal system. We demand that the Council of Economic Unions recognize our independence and demand that they allow our family members still living on Earth to immigrate. I will issue a formal declaration of independence, to the Council of Economic Unions. Our declaration is like the ancient documents I just read. When the council recognizes our independence, we will negotiate trade deals. We will resume shipments of water ice, hydrogen, methane, helium-3, and deuterium crystals.” Shawn paused to clear his throat and took another drink from his water bottle. “If the Council of Economic Union gets stupid and tries to use force, it will be, met in kind. The next scene you will see is of one of Consolidated Mining’s tankers orbiting Jupiter.”

The image on the viewscreen changed to a tanker ship orbiting the gas giant. A beam of light from a ground-based weapon shot up from the surface of Europa striking the tanker ship. A blinding flash of white light filled the screen and the tanker erupted into a massive fireball. Inside the communication center, John hit the record button. He filmed Shawn’s last few comments.

“If the Council of Economic Unions decides to use force, remember this. We have hundreds of tankers on the surface of Jupiter’s moons and, on the moons of Saturn. Think of those tankers as hundreds of hydrogen bombs rigged to explode. All we ask is that you recognize our independence and grant us our freedom. There is no need for violence. Thank you, and good night.”

***

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The Genie Script Review

Hello everyone. I hope you are all having a great day. The Genie Script is a course I bought a couple of months ago and it has changed my life. I have been listening to it every day. It helps you reprogram your mind for wealth, success, and happiness. It can also help you manifest the body and life of your dreams using manifestation and meditation. It helps you get rid of the disempowering beliefs and emotions that prevent you from getting what you want. I started seeing results right away. It changed my mindset. Now, I am starting to receive money from unexpected sources, and for now, it has just been small amounts, but if you are grateful for the small amounts the universe will send you larger amounts of money as you manifest your dreams. If this interests you check out the video below and click the link below the video. Leave me a comment to let me know what you think.

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Now for your reading pleasure check out chapter three of the Battle for Europa.

Chapter 3

JUNE 16 2358 FEDERAL DEFENSE FORCE ADVANCED OFFICERS TRAINING SCHOOL SAN-FRANSICO CA

Jack Chambers lay in bed sleeping between a naked blonde-headed woman and a naked redhead. His left hand clutched the blonde’s left breast. The redhead lay snuggled up to his backside with her breasts pressed against his back. Jack snored loudly and drool dribbled down the side of his cheek onto the blonde’s back. Light exploded into the room.

Breathing in the smell of cheap perfume, Craig Bannister looked down at the scene before him. He had mixed emotions feeling anger, envy, jealousy, and a bit of disgust. Chambers was not what Banister considered officer material, yet Craig liked him anyway. When on duty, Chambers was one of the best officers in the fleet. When he was in port or off duty, all he wanted to do was drink and chase women. That was conduct that Banister considered unbecoming of an officer.

“You plan on sleeping all day lover boy? Did you forget we have an awards ceremony to go to?”

Chambers yawned and rolled from between the two women. They both moaned stretching their arms into the air. He put his feet on the floor. “Good Lord, Craig. I feel like ten pounds of shit in a five-pound bag.” Chambers leaned forward and put his hands to his face.

Banister ogled the two women for a few seconds. “That’s nothing that a hot cup of coffee and a cold shower won’t fix. Get your scrawny ass into the shower while I make coffee.”

“What time is it?”

Banister sighed. “Seventeen hundred and thirty hours. The awards ceremony starts at eighteen hundred. We have, one-half of an hour to get your sorry ass in shape.”

“Okay, mom.” Chambers rose to his feet and stumbled to the bathroom while Banister picked up a black dress lying on the floor.

“Time to leave ladies. I’m sure it was fun, but our boy has other things to attend to.” The blonde rose to her feet, took the dress, and didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed by her nakedness.

“How about you, lover? You want to give it a go?” the redhead asked. She climbed out of bed and stood next to her friend. Stepping up to Banister, she ran her hand down his back.

“Yeah, baby. Seeing you standing there in that uniform when I woke up made me feel all quivery-like. You want two for the price of one?” the blonde asked.

Banister paused, taking in their jutting breasts and hard nipples. “It’s tempting ladies, but duty calls.” He picked up the redhead’s dress and helped her into it. Inside the shower, goosebumps formed upon Chambers’ naked body. He turned on the cold water and then let out a scream. In the living area of the motel room, Banister laughed. Once the hookers were out the door, he went to the room’s food and beverage station.

“Two coffees strong and black.” The computerized beverage dispenser dropped a cup down into the slot on the machine. It filled it with hot coffee. Banister took the first cup out of the machine. Breathing in the rich aroma of fresh-brewed coffee, and set it down on the table. The machine filled a second cup. Chambers stumbled out of the shower with a towel wrapped around him and Banister handed him a cup of coffee. “This will jump-start your evening. You need to stop abusing yourself like this.”

A big smile crossed Chambers’ face. “Thanks, but you’re just jealous.”

“Yeah right.” Bannister crossed the room to the closet. He took Chambers’ dress blues out and laid them down on the bed. “Get dressed.” Banister sat down in one of the room’s chairs and took a tentative sip from his coffee cup. He waited while his friend dressed.

“How do I look?” Chambers asked after putting on his dress blues. Banister stood up, faced his friend, and adjusted the lapel on Chambers’ uniform.

“You look like a warm bag of shit. You smell like booze and pussy. You look hungover, but your uniform looks good. Let’s go. I’ve got a cab waiting.” Banister slapped Chambers on the shoulder.

The cab dropped them off in front of the military base near the San Francisco bay. They caught a shuttle bus, which took them to the Avery Jarvis Ballroom. They named the ballroom after one of the pioneers of globalism. Avery Jarvis helped bring the world out of the chaos after the Third World War. They climbed off the shuttle bus. Excited conversation buzzed through the crowd waiting to get inside the ballroom. A cool sea breeze blew in off the ocean. Most of the ladies wore fur coats and the men wore their dress blues.

Chambers and Banister reached the front of the line. A tall young dark-complexioned officer waved a handheld scanner across their wrist. “Mr. Chambers and Mr. Banister. Your seats are in the third row up front close to the stage. You’ll find your names on your placemats in front of your seat. Enjoy the evening.”

The young lieutenant gave them a salute. They returned the curtsy and entered the banquet hall. Cambers stopped, gazing about the interior of the ballroom. Tables set lined up in rows covered with maroon silk tablecloths and fine china. At the front of the room up on a wooden stage, a band tuned their instruments.

“They sure go all out, don’t they?” Chambers said.

“Face it. You’re an officer and a gentleman. So act like it.”

“Yeah right. I put up with all this so they’ll let me drive their ships.”

“We do have our priorities. Yours are flying spaceships, drinking beer, and chasing women.”

“And what are yours?”

“Trying to keep you out of trouble. It’s a full-time job.” They made their way to the front of the room and found their seats. Chambers found their names printed on a white card taped to their placemats, so they sat down. Waiters moved throughout the room bringing drinks to the guest. Chambers ordered a Jack and Coke and Bannister ordered Scotch on the rocks.

“Where do you think they’ll assign us now that the Advanced Officers Training Course is over?” Chambers asked.

“Who knows? Wherever it is, it’ll be with a higher pay grade. I walked in here as a lieutenant. I’ll be lucky if I walk out as a commander. You will make captain.”

“Yeah, right.” Waiters brought platters loaded down with roast duck, lobster, crab, and baked salmon. Others brought roast beef, succulent baked potatoes, and plates filled with fresh garden salads to the guest seated at the banquet hall. Still, others poured wine and brought drinks while the dinner moved into full swing.

“I’ll say this about the Federal Defense Forces. When they put on a feed, they don’t go halfway,” Chambers said taking a bite of his roast duck.

Bannister finished chewing a bite of lobster. “The lobster is exquisite.”

A waiter refilled their drinks. The band opened by playing twentieth Century ballroom dance tunes. A tall dark-haired European man and a tall blond Scandinavian climbed up onto the stage. They stepped up to a podium. The Russian glanced over at the band, the band quit playing and silence filled the room. “Good evening my fellow officers as well as your distinguished guests. I hope you are enjoying the dinner and the entertainment,” the Russian admiral said. Chambers only noticed a trace of an accent in the admiral’s speech as a cheer rose from the crowd. “I am Admiral Boris Ivanov and I am here with Vice Admiral Thomas Larsen. Everyone in this training class has worked hard. Hard work deserves a reward. Without further delay, Admiral Larsen will announce the commissions and duty assignments.”

The tall muscular blond-headed admiral stood on the podium. He began to call out names, announcing the rank that the person had obtained and their new duty station. When they heard their names called, the young officers headed to the stage. They received a folder, which contained their new rank insignia and a certificate. They also received their orders for their next assignment. When the admiral called out the names the crowd offered up applause to the new graduates. Two-thirds of the officers received their commissions and duty assignments. Chambers and Banister grew nervous. Chambers looked at Banister, but Banister shrugged.

“Thank you for your hard work. You all deserved your reward. I know that in the future, your service to the council will more than justify our faith and trust in you. I will return the rest of the ceremony to Admiral Ivanov.” Admiral Ivanov stepped up to the microphone.

“Thank you, Admiral Larsen. We have recently completed construction on a new fleet of deep space vessels. This fleet will start space trials next week. The historic mission of this fleet is to explore outer space. They will search for inhabitable worlds for us to colonize. It will also try to make contact with any alien cultures they may find to establish trade with other worlds. We are sending this fleet to one of our closest neighbors, Alpha Centauri. We will explore a recently discovered star system known as System 237595. These brave men and women will be the first humans to venture out beyond our solar system and to the stars. I have assigned the following officers to these vessels.” Admiral Ivanov cleared his throat and read from a list of names.

When Bannister heard his name called, he rose to his feet. He sauntered up to the stage, fired off a salute, and looked the Admiral in the eye, taking in his stony features. The admiral returned the salute.

“Mr. Bannister you are now promoted to the rank of commander. I have assigned you to the CEU-Port Royal. You will serve as the ship’s first officer. Thank you for your diligence and service to the Council of Economic Unions,” The Admiral said. He handed Bannister a manila folder with his rank insignia and orders. Bannister shook the admiral’s hand, received his paperwork, and returned to his seat. A strange look crossed Banister’s face when he sat down.

“What?” Chambers whispered, but Bannister only shrugged. “Congratulations.” Chambers slapped his friend on the back. Admiral Ivanov handed out a few more commissions and then called Chambers’ name. When Admiral Ivanov read Chambers’ name from the list, Chambers rose to his feet. He headed up to the platform; gave the admiral a salute and the admiral returned the curtsy.

“Mr. Chambers, you are now promoted to the rank of captain. You are to report to the CEU-Port Royal as the ship’s master. Thank you for your service to the Council of Economic Unions.” He handed Chambers his folder with his rank insignia and orders. When Chambers sat back down, he saw that same strange fleeting look pass across Banister’s face.

“What? At least we’ll be serving together. There’s no one that I would rather have as my first officer other than you, Craig,” Chambers whispered.

“I know. It’s nothing. I’m happy for you. Congratulations.”

“I’d like to say thank you to everyone for coming tonight. Enjoy the band and the food for the rest of the evening. I’d like all our officers serving on our new fleet of deep space vessels to report to your duty stations tonight. I will hold a mission briefing on the CEU-Saratoga at twenty hundred hours on June eighteenth. Attendance is mandatory for all captains and first officers. Thank you and goodnight.” Admiral Ivanov said after the ceremony was over.

After the admiral left the stage, Bannister and Chambers rose to their feet.

“Let me buy you a beer, Captain,” Bannister said with a touch of smugness in his voice. They made their way through the crowd to the bar and Bannister ordered two beers. With a beer in hand, they stepped out a side door. They stood in the grass between the banquet hall and an adjacent building. Chambers buttoned up his coat to stave off the evening chill. For a moment, both men stood in uncomfortable silence, but then finally, Chambers spoke.

“I don’t know why they didn’t promote you to captain. You’ve been in the service longer than me. You deserve it more.”

Banister let out a slow breath. “I know why. You have a way with the men. They like you. Besides the fact that you’re their blond-haired golden boy, you’re also a natural leader. You have some qualities that I am lacking.”

“Bullshit. You take things too seriously. All you have to do is listen to the men, be firm but fair and treat them with respect. You’re a commander now. That’s an accomplishment. You should be happy. You’ll make a great first officer and I’m glad we’ll be serving together.”

“I am happy. I guess it’s my lot in life to be the one to bail you out of trouble. Why don’t we go to the barracks, pack our gear and catch a shuttle out of here? I’m kind of anxious to see what our new ship looks like.”

“Me too,” Chambers said and tossed back the rest of his beer.

***

“My God! That ship is huge!” Bannister said. He looked out of a porthole of their shuttle when they approached the landing bay doors of the Port Royal.

“They’re all huge!” Chambers said leaning over Banister’s shoulder to get a glimpse of the Port Royal. After finishing their beer, they rode the shuttle bus to the barracks. They changed into their regular uniforms and packed their gear. Finished with that, they caught the shuttle bus to the spaceport. They had to wait for over an hour in the terminal before catching a flight to their ship. When they boarded the shuttle, the shuttle pilot’s voice came over the shuttle’s intercom. He instructed them to strap themselves in. The shuttle lifted off the shuttle pad and shot forward gaining speed and altitude. Bannister looked out the right side porthole seeing the base below them grow smaller to the eye.

The shuttle reached escape velocity and entered Earth’s orbit. It took one revolution around the planet. Then it approached a space station maintaining an orbit over the west coast of North America. They monitored hundreds of vessels entering and exiting Earth’s atmosphere. To, Chambers, it looked like a traffic control nightmare. Their shuttle pilot weaved his way through traffic passing the space station. They headed toward a military space dock.

On the edge of the spacedock, the new deep space fleet orbited the planet. Captain Chambers saw ships of every size and description. He saw tankers, frigates, and light cruisers. He also saw several deep space battlecruisers, the mainstay of the fleet. Looking out the right side porthole of their shuttle, they saw a green flashing light. The landing bay doors of the Port Royal opened and the shuttle flew through the massive steel doors. Powering down, it touched down on the ship’s shuttle landing bay.

“Remain seated until oxygen is, restored to the landing bay,” the pilot said. His voice came over the shuttle’s PA system.

“God this landing bay is massive. Look at all those shuttles docked out there.” Bannister said. He took in the smaller vessels docked on the shuttle bay through his porthole.

“And I’m supposed to be the one in charge. Lord help me.”

Bannister laughed. “Sometimes it’s better not to be the one in charge. I may have got the better deal here after all.”

“Environmental control has restored oxygen and gravity to the landing bay. You may now exit the shuttle,” the pilot’s voice said over the PA system. Inside his cockpit, the pilot flipped a toggle switch. The exit hatch opened and a boarding ramp was deployed.

“Let’s go see our new home,” Chambers said, unsnapping his seat belt, and stood to his feet.

“After you, my captain.” Chambers headed down the aisle between the seats and stepped through the exit hatch. Bannister stepped up next to him and they sauntered down the boarding ramp. A young blond-headed ensign hurried across the landing bay to meet them. He looked up and fired off a quick salute; Bannister and Chambers returned the gesture.

“First officer Bannister and Captain Chambers?” the nervous ensign asked.

“I’m Bannister.”

“I guess that means I’m Chambers.”

“I’m Ensign James Palmer. My orders were to serve as the ship’s caretaker until the command staff arrives. I am sure you gentlemen would like to get some rest. If you will follow me, I’ll show you to your quarters. Tomorrow morning at zero eight hundred hours, I will give both of you gentlemen a briefing and a tour of the ship.”

“Lead the way,” Chambers said. They followed the young ensign across the massive landing bay. He led them through an airlock. The shuttle pilot launched returning to the spaceport on Earth. Ensign Palmer stopped in front of a door in the bulkhead setting next to the airlock.

“This is the captain’s, personal turbo lift. It leads up to the captain’s council room. The captain can take it to any deck throughout the ship in case of an emergency. There are other turbo lifts throughout the ship, but this one is yours. Tomorrow you can reset the code to read only your biochip.” Palmer ran his wrist across the electronic eye in the door. A beam of light read the information on the chip. The door to the turbo lift opened and they stepped into the small round compartment.

“A deck,” Ensign Palmer said. Chambers felt his stomach drop. The turbo lift shot upward carrying them up through the bowels of the ship. After a few seconds, it stopped. The doors opened and they stepped out of the lift onto plush blue carpeting. A long rectangular oak table occupied the center of the room and to the right set a food and beverage station. In the center of the table set a computer console. It had a touch screen and a voice-activated control system. A large viewscreen occupied much of the left bulkhead. Chambers looked out the viewscreen at space. He noticed several of the other vessels docked at the spacedock.

“This is your council room. This door next to the turbo lift leads out to the main passageway on A deck. The door next to the food and beverage station leads to the bridge. Would you like to see your cabin?” Ensign Palmer asked.

“Let’s see the bridge first,” Chambers said.

“I second that,” Bannister said. Palmer led them across the conference room. He stepped through the doorway leading to the bridge. They stood on a raised platform overlooking a circular control center below. On the platform set three chairs. They looked down upon the control center and a sea of plush blue carpeting covered the entire deck.

Chambers stood with his feet spread apart gazing about the bridge. Three steps led down from the command platform to the control station. Two workstations were set to the left of the command chairs, and two were set to the right. Below the command chairs set the helm. Computer consoles were set in front of the controller’s chairs. A large viewscreen occupied the bulkhead at the front of the control station. God. I’m supposed to be in charge of all this? Chambers marveled.

“This has got to be the biggest bridge of any vessel I’ve been on,” Chambers said.

“I don’t think I’ve seen anything larger on any vessel I’ve served on either,” Bannister said.

“If you gentlemen are ready, I’ll show you to your quarters,” Ensign Palmer said.

“Lead the way,” Chambers said. Palmer turned to a set of double doors behind them and they followed him out the door and into the main passageway.

“This way,” Palmer said leading them down a narrower hallway that curved to their right. They passed the doorway leading to the captain’s conference room to the next door on the right. Palmer brushed his wrist across the door’s electronic eye. The door read the biochip embedded in his skin and opened.

“Once you reset the code to your chip, it will only open for you,” Palmer said. They stepped into the captain’s quarters and stood gazing about the spacious room. Chambers took in the King-sized bed, next to the far bulkhead. The bed was set on the same plush blue carpet that the military used on all their ships. He took in the food and beverage station, the wet bar, and the computer console along with a VID screen. An oak table was set in the kitchen area along with two comfortable-looking lounge chairs. Overhead cabinets were mounted above the bed and wooden cabinets were built into the bed frame. A brown door was set on the wall next to the bed.

“That door leads to the bathroom. The computer environmentally controls the room. You have to activate the settings. They are voice-activated. You can set it for an automatic response, or you can set it to a personality-based control system. You can pick the gender,” Palmer said.

“I’ve slept in a lot worse,” Chambers said.

“Worse hell. This has to be the biggest cabin you ever had while in the Defense Forces,” Bannister said.

“You’ve got that right.”

“We’ll leave you here to settle in, while I show Mr. Bannister to his quarters,” Ensign Palmer said.

“No. I got to see your digs. Why don’t you come along and see mine?” Bannister said.

“Let’s go, then. Lead the way Ensign,” Chambers said.

Ensign Palmer led them out the door and back the way they came. They rounded the curve passing the Captain’s council room and the main entrance to the bridge.

“You’ll find the officers’ mess halfway down the main corridor on your right. They will start serving breakfast at zero six hundred tomorrow morning,” Palmer said. Bannister glanced up at a brass plaque over the first door on their left. It said: First Officer’s conference room. “Mr. Bannister you also have your, own conference room as well as your, own personal turbo lift.” They stepped up to the door to the first officer’s quarters. “Here we are.” A brass plaque reading: First Officer’s quarters set mounted over the door.

“Home sweet home,” Bannister said. Palmer opened the door; they stepped into the room and gazed about.

“I’ll leave you, gentleman, here,” Palmer said. He stepped out leaving Chambers and Bannister alone in the room.

“Not bad. It’s not as big as your place, but it’s still the biggest cabin I’ve ever slept in. Being the first officer on a ship like this might not be so bad.”

Chambers crossed the room to the wet bar. He rummaged around under the bar until he found a bottle of Jack Daniels, Tennessee whiskey. “Let’s have a drink.” Chambers breathed in the smell of the potent whiskey and poured them each a shot.

“What are we drinking to?” Banister asked.

“To the Port Royal and a long working relationship between us. May your job as first officer and mine as captain, never get in the way of our friendship.” Chambers lifted his glass into the air.

“I’ll drink to that.” Bannister brought up his shot glass; they touched their glasses together and then downed the whiskey.

***

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Disempowering Emotions

Free public domain CC0 photo.

Hey, this is Dave the Miracle Maker. It’s a bright sunny day up here in the high desert of Southern California. I hope everyone is having a glorious day. If you are trying to manifest a better life, certain disempowering emotions prevent you from getting what you want. If you are trying to create a miracle in your life, and it doesn’t matter if it’s for wealth and abundance or to find the love of your life, you have to get rid of these emotions. These emotions are things like fear, anger, jealousy the feeling of lack or unworthiness. These things prevent you from manifesting what you want. You may ask yourself, “Why is this happening for them and not me?” Or you might feel uncertain and depressed. It all comes down to the choices you make. Chose to be happy. Concentrate on the positive things in your life and feel grateful for them. Tell yourself that you are worthy to live a life of abundance. When you feel a negative emotion such as anger, or jealousy that is holding you back, distance yourself from it. Build your self-image to the point where you believe that you are worthy to live a life of abundance. Tell yourself that you are beautiful, handsome, happy, wealthy, and deserve to live your best life. Be grateful for what you have. Take a notepad and write down everything you are grateful for in your life. If you are trying to manifest something new in your life such as more money, a new car, or the love of your life, you need to feel as if you already have and be grateful for it now. Visualize what you want in your mind and what you would do if you had it now. I believe that everyone deserves to live their best life and to live a life of abundance. So leave a comment and let me know what you think. Until next time, live your best life and be the best you that you can be because you deserve to live a life of abundance.

Now for your reading pleasuere, here’s chapter 2 of my science fiction novel, The Battle for Europa.

Chapter 2

Fireworks lit up the night sky over the harbor in San Diego California. Loud music emanated from a floating barge a quarter-mile offshore. The class of 2358 of Woodrow Wilson high school celebrated their graduation on the barge. Smoke drifted across the water. A neo-pop band had their guitars and other musical instruments cranked up high doing a rendition of an old hip-hop song. Neo-pop was the latest craze in music. It was a mixture of older styles. It combed rock and roll, new wave, and hip-hop. It also mixed in a bit of rap, and country with modern computer-generated sounds.

David Gallagher looked out at the large naval vessels looming in the darkness. They lay at anchor on the other side of the harbor. He zipped up his coat. Fireworks lit up the night; David glanced up and smiled. He thought he would remember this night forever: June 15th, 2358. His mind drifted to his brother Shawn and wondered how he was doing. He hadn’t seen Shawn in eight years. He’d only had a few video transmissions and text messages on the VID-net. He had not been in his brother’s presence since Shawn graduated high school.

After high school, Shawn, like most young men with low GI ratings, received his draft notice. He entered the Federal Defense Forces. Shawn served on a Planetary Patrol Force vessel. He spent a few years chasing smugglers, gunrunners, and pirates. When they weren’t involved in either one of those endeavors, the PPF patrolled the solar system. They responded to any emergency that might arise. The PPF was a fast reaction force. It had smaller and faster vessels than the Federal Defense Force’s main battle fleet.

David felt a soft hand run down his back. He caught a whiff of perfume and felt the soft caress of a female breast against his arm.

“I bet you thought this day would never come?” Annie Dupree said, having to yell over the loud music. David breathed in the smell of the sea. He looked over at the beautiful young woman standing next to him. He couldn’t figure out how he had managed to land the best-looking girl in high school. One time he asked her why she hung out with him, but Annie laughed and said, “It beats the hell out of me.”

He glanced at her red dress, made from a rubber-like material that form-fitted to her body. It accented her curves. David felt a stirring sensation in his loins when he noticed the amount of cleavage the dress revealed. The hem of the dress stopped three inches below her crotch. It revealed her long tanned shapely legs. Her long red hair hung down below her ass. He finally managed to get it together and looked into her emerald green eyes.

“It seems like I’ve been at that place forever. I can still remember when my mom and dad dropped me off at the gate. I stood there on the sidewalk with my bags shaking like a leaf and watched them drive away.”

“That’s when I showed up.”

“Yep. Good old Annie Dupree to the rescue. You took me under your wing, showed me the way to the administration building, and helped me get settled.”

Alonzo Garcia stepped up and grabbed David’s other arm. “Hey bro! Have another beer!” Alonzo yelled, handing them each a bottle. “Annie. How did you do on your GI test? Did you get into AI school?”

Anne beamed, letting out a wild whoop. “You better believe it. I scored an eight on the test. I received a message from the Advanced Artificial Intelligence Research and Development College! I got in! I’m going to New York City! What about you guys? You wanted to go to trade school didn’t you Alonzo? I know David wants into the robotics school in New Chicago. He’ll work on the bodies and I’ll work on the brains.”

“I haven’t heard anything yet. I applied to a holographic tech school in Denver but I only scored a six on the test. I guess you know where I’m headed,” Alonzo said, sounding dejected.

“You never know. They still may let you in. What about you David?” Annie asked.

“I scored a six-point five. Why even make us take that stupid one hundred-question written test? Why does everything hinge on your genetics? Why not take a hair sample and let it go at that? It’s a shame that the council puts such an emphasis on the GI ratings. It shouldn’t keep you from getting into the school that you want to go to!” David said.

“I’m sure the council knows what’s best!” Annie said.

Two young girls stepped up to Annie’s side and one took her arm. “Let’s dance Annie! There are a lot of cute boys here,” one of the girls yelled and let out a giggle. Annie joined her friends. They headed to the center of the barge where a crowd of teen-aged young people danced. David and Alonzo turned watching the girls leave. Their eyes roved the crowd taking in all the good-looking females. Most of them wore rubberized dresses of various colors. Most of the dresses form-fitted to their bodies. Others wore loose-fitting gowns made of a thin fabric that clung to every crack and crevice. One girl wore a silver metallic suit that looked like body armor.

“There sure are some good-looking ladies here tonight. I hope they get liquored up and we get lucky,” Alonzo said.

“Stranger things have happened,” David said. They had been friends from grade school. Alonzo stood five feet six inches tall and weighed two hundred pounds. He had coal-dark eyes, chubby cheeks, and a potbelly, but what David liked most about Alonzo was his sense of humor. David stood two inches taller than his friend and weighed thirty-five pounds less. Turning from the crowd, they strolled out to the edge of the barge looking out into the ocean.

“You know they won’t let us into any good school with low ratings,” Alonzo said.

David brushed a strand of reddish-blond hair out of his eyes. He took a drink from his beer and turned his piercing blue eyes to his friend. “I know. It’s the Federal Defense Forces for us.”

“I hope they put us into the same unit. Where do you think we’ll do boot camp?”

“It depends upon which branch we go into. If we’re with the Fleet Marines, we’ll do boot camp on the moon. If they assign us to the surface Navy, it could be here in San Diego, San Francisco, New Chicago, or somewhere in Europe. If we go into the Army, it could be Texas or Kentucky.”

“At least we’re out of this shit hole. Being in the Federal Defense Forces won’t be so bad,” Alonzo said.

“Yeah, like that recruiting commercial. Join the fleet and see the solar system. It’s not a job, it’s a grand adventure.”

The graduation party wound down and small robotic ferryboats approached from the shore. They docked with the floating barge, rocking with the waves and the spray from the waves hit David in the face. A cold sea breeze caused goosebumps to form up, on his arms and he felt a chill run through his body. The students formed up into a line to board the small ferryboats that would take them back to the mainland. The first three boats filled up with half-drunken graduates. It pulled away from the barge and headed toward the docks. David jumped into the fourth boat, but then turned around and helped Annie down to join him.

“Thank you, kind sir,” Annie said. Alonzo and one of Annie’s girlfriends jumped down behind them and they found seats at the front. David took off his jacket and draped it over Annie’s shoulders. “I was freezing.”

“Don’t mention it. That sea breeze gets a bit chilly at night.”

“Enjoy it while you can. It might be a long time before we see Diego again after tonight,” Alonzo said.

“I know I’m gonna miss San Diego. I love going to the beach,” Annie said.

“I’m gonna miss all the California girls,” Alonzo said. Annie’s girlfriend elbowed him in the side.

“Speaking of California girls,” David said bumping Annie in the arm with his elbow, “I’m going to miss this one. Why don’t you come with me to my room and make my last night at Woodrow Wilson High a memorable one?” A big grin crossed David’s face and Alonzo let out a whoop looking at Annie’s girlfriend sitting next to him.

“Now that’s a plan sweetheart. I got cold beer on the ice at my place,” Alonzo said.

Anne smiled. “I would think that being in my presence would be memorable enough, but who knows? If you’re nice, I might rock your world.”

David laughed. “I’ll be a little angel.” The computer running the robotic ferry sensed that all the passenger seats were full. A deep computerized voice reverberated from the speakers at the control station.

“All passengers please remain seated and keep all body parts inside the vessel. Please pick up all your belongings when you leave. Congratulations graduates from the class of 2358.” A cheer rose from the boat as it pulled away from the barge.

“I’m gonna miss the sea,” Alonzo said sticking his hand out of the small boat and running it through the water. “Maybe I’ll join the Navy.”

“No way bro. It’s the Fleet Marines for you and me,” David said.

“You guys. You haven’t even received word from the schools you applied for. Maybe they accepted you into robotics school David?” Annie said.

“Get real darling. Our GI ratings are too low,” Alonzo said.

“I don’t mind. I’m glad to be getting away from this place,” David said. After a ten-minute ride, the graduates piled out of the boat and meandered up the docks to the bus stop. David and Alonzo followed the crowd, along with Annie and her girlfriends. Charter buses set parked next to the curb waiting for the graduates to arrive. David watched the first two buses pull away from the curb. He found seats for their group toward the rear of the third bus. He glanced up at the holographic image of a bus driver. The driver dressed in a gray khaki uniform. He wore a short-brimmed ball cap on his head that appeared on a screen at the front of the bus.

“Congratulations graduates of the class of 2358. Remain in your seats and keep your valuables close at hand. ETA to Woodrow Wilson High School is twenty minutes,” the holographic bus driver said. His voice emanated from speakers mounted on the ceiling.

“Could you imagine what it must have been like to have a real, human driver?” Annie said.

“Or to drive your, own car? With the traffic on the city streets of San Diego nowadays? There would be major collisions every day,” David said. Annie snuggled up next to him and he put his arm around her.

“They drive themselves around on the colonies from what I hear. There are still some cars that have manual controls. The driver-assist programs take over if the driver loses control,” Alonzo said.

“Yeah, but the moon or Mars is not supposed to be as crowded as it is here,” David said.

“With the road sensors and the navigation systems we have now, traveling by car is safe. I read that back in the twentieth Century, car crashes were a common occurrence. I read that they sometimes had major pile-ups on the freeways. The wrecks killed scores of people,” Annie’s girlfriend said.

“You guys can have your automobiles. I’ll take a shuttle any day. You get there a lot faster. You don’t have to put up with the congestion on the streets,” Alonzo said while their bus pulled away from the curb.

“I don’t mind the traffic. I sit back, turn on the VID screen and watch a movie. My mom said that she might get me a car for a graduation present, but I won’t need one in New York City,” Annie said.

The bus took them through downtown San Diego. It passed between towering skyscrapers and traversed the business district. It left the business behind and head into the suburbs. The bus moved through traffic changing lanes when necessary and took the most direct route possible to Woodrow Wilson High. David and his friends sat back and watched the scenery. They enjoyed the loud excited conversations of their fellow graduates. The bus pulled up to the iron gates of the high school twenty-five minutes after leaving the bay.

A thin beam of green laser light shot out from the front of the bus. It made contact with the gate’s electronic eye and the gate opened sliding back on its track. The bus pulled onto the school grounds passing through various brick and stone buildings and followed a curving lane that took them into the heart of the campus. Evergreen trees lined the road. Grassy lawns occupied the space between the buildings. The bus pulled up to the curb in front of the housing center and the side door of the bus opened.

“Please take all your valuables with you. Thank you for choosing Consolidated Transportation,” the bus driver said.

After exiting the bus, they stood on the sidewalk for a few seconds and bid farewell to some of their friends.

David grinned. “Was I nice enough?”

Annie blushed. “You were nice. I’ll stay with you tonight. Who knows? We may not see each other ever again after tomorrow.”

Alonzo looked at Annie’s girlfriend with a big grin on his face; she blushed, nodded her head, and then took his arm. Alonzo let out a whoop. “Yes, there is a God!”

“Don’t let the campus political adviser hear you say that,” Annie said. David led them down the sidewalk and then down a stone pathway between the buildings. They came to the men’s senior dorm. The school administrators frowned on the girls spending the night in the boy’s dormitory. On the last night of school after graduation, they were lax on the rule. They figured that once the young people graduated from high school that they were adults and responsible for their, own actions.

David ran his right wrist over a scanning device mounted on the wall next to the front door of his dormitory. The scanner read the bar code in the biochip embedded underneath the skin of his wrist. The door opened and they stepped through.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Alonzo said, suppressing a grin.

David laughed. “Not if I see you first. Don’t wear yourself out.” At the door to his room, David ran his wrist over the scan pad, mounted next to the door. A tiny red light on the door handle changed from red to green. He grabbed the door handle and opened the door.

“Hello, David,” a seductive female voice coming from the room said. The lights went from dim to bright when they stepped into the room.

“Hello Grace,” David said.

“Oh. I see you’ve brought a guest,” the voice coming from the room’s computer said. “Will she be staying the night?”

“Yes, she will Grace. Don’t be a bitch.”

Annie let out a giggle. “I see you’ve got one of those systems.” For a few seconds, Annie took in the small room. She noticed its dark brown carpeting as well as its small food, and beverage dispenser. It had a small video screen. It wasn’t much different from her room, except for the posters of prominent sports figures on the walls.

“Don’t tell me you don’t have the male counterpart.”

Annie’s face turned red. “I didn’t say that.”

“Grace this is Annie Dupree. Annie this is Grace. Grace, be nice.”

“David you received a transmission on the VID screen from the Council of Academic Studies. They marked it urgent.”

“Thank you Grace,” David said and headed across the room to the widescreen mounted on the far wall. It served as a computer, videophone, and television. It also provided access to the Video-net. He sat down in a black office chair setting behind a small wooden desk in front of the screen. He spoke into the small microphone that was set on the desk in front of the screen.

“Play flash message marked urgent.”

A text message flashed across the screen. APPLICATION TO ROBOTICS TECHNOLOGY SCHOOL IN NEW CHICAGO ILLINOIS DENIED. LOW GI RATING. TOO MANY APPLICANTS TO MAKE AN EXCEPTION. END FLASH MESSAGE.

“Damn. I knew they wouldn’t let me in. Play channel five.” He crossed the room and sat down on a black synthetic leather couch with Annie.

“I’m sorry they didn’t let you into robotics school,” Annie said taking his face in her hands. She kissed him on the lips. The sound coming from the VID screen’s speakers blared violently hurting their ears.

“Knock it off, Grace! Lower volume to a comfortable level!” David yelled to the room’s computer. The sound coming from the VID screen lowered and a heavy sigh came from the room. David stood up and crossed the room to a small refrigerator. He took out a bottle of wine that he was saving for a special occasion and two wine glasses from a cabinet. David sat back down on the couch with Annie. He poured them each a glass of wine and they settled back to watch a movie.

“I love the video net,” Annie said. “I did a paper one time on its predecessor; they called it the internet back in the twentieth century. That was a far cry from what we have now. Could you imagine, having to use a keyboard for a term paper? They had a limited email system. They had apps on what they called cell phones. You could see a person in real-time on their small little screens and talk, but it was nothing like we have now. Now you can talk to anyone in the world or the solar system and look at them face to face on the screen in real-time.”

“It does have its downsides. The government can spy on you at will.”

“Can you imagine what a boring job that would be? I bet they only do random checks or check on people labeled as subversive,” Annie said.

They were watching a movie about the early colonization of the moon. The words: SPECIAL BULLETIN, flashed across the screen. The scene changed from the rocky surface of the moon to the icy planes of Europa. A woman wearing a white EVA suit stood facing a man, also wearing an EVA suit. In the background, people milled about in front of a domed structure at one of the mining facilities. You couldn’t see the faces of the man or the woman because of the protective helmets of their EVA suits. You could hear the men milling about in front of the mining facility yelling. Some of them waved their arms in the air.

“This is Helen Boxer from Solar One News. We’re here on Europa. The miners have announced a system-wide strike. It will affect Consolidated mining operations on the moons of Jupiter, and Saturn. This has never happened before. There has never been a system-wide strike in Consolidated’s history,” the woman said.

“Oh shit. My brother is on Europa,” David said.

“We have with us Shawn Gallagher, the second shift team leader here on Europa. Mr. Gallagher, why are the miners on strike?”

“If there’s trouble, Shawn will be in the middle of it. He was always in trouble with the political advisor in school. He never could go along with the program,” David let out a sigh, his cheeks turning red with embarrassment.

“The miners here on the moons of Jupiter suffer under harsh working conditions. So do our brothers harvesting Helium-3 from Jupiter’s atmosphere. It’s the same with the miners on Mars, and Saturn’s moons. We work long hours for low pay. All we are asking for is fair wages and better working conditions,” Shawn said. His voice sounded muffled coming from the com-link on his EVA suit.

“I suppose you are aware that what you are doing is illegal? You risk spending the rest of your life on a penal colony on the dark side of Earth’s moon.”

“It’s time that people quit worrying about what’s legal and concentrate on what is right.”

“There you have it. This is Helen Boxer with Solar One News. Back to you Chris.” The scene changed on the viewscreen revealing the image of a middle-aged man at a news desk.

“It will be interesting to see how this plays out. We now return to our regular programming,” the newsman said. The scene on the VID screen changed back to the movie.

“Change to net news,” David said and the VID screen changed to the news channel.

A young blonde woman wearing a low-cut silver dress sat behind a news desk. She rehashed the story about the striking miners. After finishing her spiel about the miners, she went to another story. “Today President Bonelli announced that the Navy has commissioned a new fleet. They are deep space vessels and they will undergo space trials shortly. Their mission is to explore the Alpha Centauri system. They will also explore a recently discovered star system, known as Star System 237595. This fleet will seek to make the first contact with any, alien race that they may encounter and attempt to establish trade. They will also search for inhabitable worlds to expand Earth’s colonization to the stars. President Bonelli says that this mission may take twenty-five years or more to bear fruit. He says it will be worth the money and time spent if we can expand colonization to the galaxy.”

“This is an exciting time in history, Janis. With the new cold fusion reactors that they’ve built into these new ships, the stars are open for us to explore. Can you imagine it? To be the first people to leave the solar system?” a dark-headed man sitting next to the blonde said.

“I don’t think I’d want to leave my family and friends for the next twenty-five years. I’m sure some would jump at the chance to be on one of those ships,” Janis said.

“We have breaking news, Janis. Federal Defense Force ground troops caught three men in the forbidden zone. The penalty for entering the forbidden zone is death. Let’s go to our eye in the sky,” the dark-headed man said. The view on the VID screen changed revealing a city in rubble. Two soldiers stood over the bodies of three men lying on the ground in a puddle of blood. “I’ll try to contact the officers on duty via com-link. I have one now,” the dark-headed newscaster said. “Sir. Can you tell us what happened here?”

“We caught these individuals trying to steal and reproduce forbidden historical documents. They tried to steal other contraband. We found the documents plus several banned books in their possession. These individuals are a part of a group of terrorists known as the People’s Fist. They would try to take us back to the nationalistic system that caused World War Three. That nearly destroyed the planet. These people had arms and resisted arrest,” the officer in charge said. The scene on the VID screen changed back to the newsroom.

“I don’t know what they were thinking. The ruined city once known as Washington DC is radioactive. Aren’t they afraid of getting cancer?” Janis asked.

“If they were sane, they wouldn’t have anything to do with this so-called People’s Fist,” the newscaster said.

“I don’t know how any sane individual could buy into that crap. Our system isn’t perfect, but it’s far better than going back to those archaic ways of the past. As far as I’m concerned, if you don’t support the system, then you shouldn’t reap any of its benefits. They should take those so-called freedom fighters out to the asteroid belt. They push them out of an airlock without the benefit of an EVA suit,” David said, glancing over at Annie.

“They have to be crazy to believe all that revolutionary crap anyway.”

“Do you want to watch the rest of the movie?” David asked.

Annie downed the rest of her wine. “Why don’t we take a quick shower and go to bed, before I lose my nerve or fall asleep.”

A slight grin crossed David’s face. “That’s the best offer I’ve had all day. Grace shut down the VID screen and shut yourself down for the evening.” The VID screen went black; a deep sigh came from the room. David took Annie’s hand and led her into the restroom. Annie touched a tiny button on the neck of her skintight dress and the gown loosened. She kicked off her shoes, slipped the dress over her shoulders, let it slide to the floor, and stood in the nude.

“God you’re beautiful,” David said, letting out a sigh, and took in her hard succulent body. He took off his clothes and they stepped into the shower. David punched in some numbers on the shower’s keypad. He set the water temperature to medium-hot and set the shower to the gentle massage selection. The temperature of the water abruptly changed to ice cold. The selection went to vigorous massage causing Annie to let out a scream.

“Grace put the shower back the way it was and shut yourself down!”

Annie squealed. “Someone is jealous.” David enjoyed lathering up Annie’s wet, luscious, body for the next fifteen minutes. Her breasts were firm. Her nipples stood erect and her long wet hair hung down her back like a red vale covering her firm hard bottom. David’s manhood grew stiff. He pulled Annie to his chest, his hands found her breasts and their lips met in a passionate kiss. Finished in the shower, they headed back to the bedroom. David turned off the lights and they crawled between the covers. Annie climbed on top, guiding him into her moist center. David’s heart rate accelerated and he thrust up with his hips trying to keep up with her rhythm. Inside the dark living room, a flash message marked urgent appeared on the VID screen.

***

David awoke from a dead sleep due to the loud banging sound coming from the front door of his dorm room. It sounded as if someone was out there banging on the door with a sledgehammer. He reached over, touching the left side of the bed, but Annie was gone.

“Grace. Lights on,” he said and light exploded into the room. He saw a digital notepad set on the nightstand next to his bed. He touched the screen and read the following note: David. I had to catch an early bus. I had a wonderful night. Look me up on the VID-net when you get settled. Love you, Annie.

The pounding on the front door continued. David put on a pair of boxer shorts and staggered to the door rubbing sleep from his eyes. He opened the door and looked at a short blond-headed man in his early thirties. The man facing him was dressed in an urban camouflaged military uniform.

“What do you want?” David asked.

“Don’t you monkeys answer your mail? You are to report to San Francisco for induction into the Federal Defense Forces. You have a half-hour to shit, shower, and shave. Bring one set of clothes plus your shaving kit. The school will ship the rest of your things to your parents. The bus will be waiting at the curb in front of this dormitory. Don’t be late,” the military man said and moved down the hallway to the next door.

David jumped into the shower and let the water chase the cobwebs of sleep from his brain. Done with the shower, he hit the air-dry feature, and Jets of hot air hit his body drying him off. He dressed in a loose-fitting comfortable t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and boots. Dressed, he went into the living room and sat down in front of the VID screen.

“Play flash transmission marked urgent.”

The following text message flashed across the screen: DATE 06-16 2358. URGENT MESSAGE. GREETINGS FROM THE PRESIDENT OF THE NORTH AMERICAN UNION. YOU ARE TO REPORT TO SAN-FRANSICO CALIFORNIA. YOU HAVE BEEN INDUCTED INTO THE FEDERAL DEFENSE FORCES. FEDERAL DEFENSE FORCES WILL PROVIDE TRANSPORTATION. FROM THE DESK OF PRESIDENT SINCLAIR PRESIDENT OF THE NORTH AMERICAN UNION. END MESSAGE. David let out a sigh, stood to his feet, and went to the food and beverage station in the kitchen.

“Grace. I’d like a cup of coffee. You know how I like it.” A cup fell into the slot on the coffee machine and the hot liquid filled the cup. When the coffee finished brewing, he took the cup from the machine and took a sip of the hot liquid. The caffeine blast felt good to his tired body and the hot cup warmed his cold hands. He went into the bathroom, packed his shaving gear into a small carrying bag, and headed for the door. David stopped in the doorway.

“Goodbye, Grace.”

“Goodbye David.” She sounds sad. David made his way through a crowd of former students in the hallway and stepped outside. He stood in front of the dormitory, shivering from the cold, and looked about in surprise. More than three-quarters of the graduating seniors waited to board the military buses. About one-third of the inductees were female.

“It ain’t like we didn’t know this was going to happen,” Alonzo said, stepping up next to David.

“Yeah. I know. I’m surprised that so many students got drafted.”

“I heard only twenty percent of the graduating class had high enough GI ratings to avoid the draft.”

“I don’t mind. We’re in for an adventure,” David said.

“Yeah. Let’s make the best of it. I hope we do boot camp at the same place.”

“Let’s get on board,” David said looking at the long line of buses waiting at the curb. They found seats in the back of the fourth bus in line and listened to the buzz of conversation inside the bus. The buses filled with inductees and pulled away from the curb. David and Alonzo leaned back in their seats. The long convoy moved through the campus toward the front gate. Their bus pulled onto the city street, David looked over his shoulder and gave the school one last, look. A cheer rose from the students inside, but David felt an instant of sadness and regret. His stomach felt a little queasy and he felt mixed emotions. He felt excited about the future, yet apprehensive at the same time. I’m going to miss a lot of people at that school.

“To hell with that place. On to bigger and better things,” Alonzo said. The bus increased speed taking them away from Woodrow Wilson high school for the last time.

***

Posted in Law of Attraction, meditation, Self Help, subconscious mind, writing | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

What did you say?

Unhappy married couple not talking to one another

Image by Rawpixle

I hope everyone is having a great Sunday morning. It’s a bright sunny day up here in the high desert of Southern California. It’s a little windy, but it’s not too bad. Up here we have three seasons, summer, winter, and wind. In my last post, I talked about monitoring your thoughts. Today I would like to talk about what you say, about the words that come out of your mouth. The thing about words is once we say them we can’t take them back. Don’t say mean hurtful or degrading things. Especially to your significant other. Think about what you say when you are talking to your significant other, your friends, or your family, but that goes for anyone you speak to. Even a stranger on the street. Everyone deserves respect. When someone is being confrontational and saying mean hurtful things to you, you can’t control that, but you can control how you react. You have a choice. You can either respond negatively, or positively. When I was working on the railroad we had a safety slogan that said: Take Two. It meant that before you start a job or a task take two seconds to go over the task and plan the job before you start and then take the safest course. When you are in a confrontational situation with your significant other, or anyone for that matter take two seconds to think before you speak. When you say mean things or call your spouse bad hurtful names, you may feel sorry about it afterward, and tell her or him that you are sorry, but once the words are out of your mouth they can’t really be taken back. He or she may say that it’s all right and that they forgive you, but they will remember it. Those mean words have been imprinted into their mind and your relationship will be damaged.

This also goes for what you say to yourself. Both verbally and internally. Don’t say anything either out loud or internally that makes you feel sad, anxious, or hurts you in any way. Don’t tell yourself things like, I can’t do this, I’m a loser, nothing ever works out for me and never say anything negative about your finances such as I’m broke, I don’t have the money, I’m too poor. Especially if you are trying to manifest your best life. Say something like, I am living a life of abundance and the universe will provide. Don’t say anything either verbally or internally that degrades you. Don’t say things like, I’m ugly, I’m too fat or I’m poor and things don’t work out for me. Tell yourself that, I am beautiful, I am handsome, I am healthy, I am rich, I am living a life of abundance and everything is working out according to my goals and desires. I am living my best life, so take two and think before you speak.

Below for your reading pleasure is the first chapter of my science fiction novel, The Battle for Europa. It is the first book in my science fiction series, The Space Corps Chronicles.

The Battle for Europa

Chapter 1

Shawn Gallagher and John Wilson sat in an atmospherically contained tracked vehicle looking out at the icy planes of Europa. They breathed in the sterile smell of recycled air. “Did you tell him about the guns?” Wilson asked rubbing the scruffy whiskers on his chin.

Shawn laughed, looking out the windshield with a pair of night-vision goggles. “It’s kind of hard to start a war without guns.”

John yawned. “Does he know about the vehicles? We’ll need armored main battle tanks.”

Shawn shrugged brushing a strand of dark brown hair from his eyes. “He knows about the vehicles. You saw the list before I encrypted and transmitted it. I don’t think we forgot anything. With this, plus the equipment we have on Titan, we should be fine.”

John nodded. “How can he have that much equipment available? Who is this guy anyway?”

“He’s the best. I did some research on the VID-net. Most smugglers have a legit freighting business covering their illegal activities. You have to dig deeper for certain things.”

“Yeah, but how can he come up with so much equipment with such little notice?” John asked.

Shawn laughed. “It’s surprising what you can get with a suitcase full of gold. Let alone five of them.”

“True. Those hidden mining sites on Mars have been a Godsend for the movement.”

“Tell me about it. We wouldn’t have been able to finance our operations on Earth without the gold. You can trace a credit transaction, but when you hand a guy a bag of gold, no one knows but you and him,” Shawn said.

“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?”

“You tell me. Do you still want to live under the thumb of the council? After our guys found those documents in the forbidden zone? Not to mention those old history books.”

John let out a sigh. “No. Some of our people died to retrieve those documents and they captured two others. Reading those documents only strengthened my resolve. Once we embark on this course of action, there’s no turning back.”

“Do you think they worried about that, six hundred years ago when they dumped all that tea into the Boston harbor? The council would throw us in a penal colony on the dark side of the moon if they knew we had those documents,” Shawn said.

“It is shocking, how much freedom those people had once they won their independence. They didn’t have to deal with a GI rating or implanted biochips. It said in their declaration, that all men are, created equal.”

“They had their problems, but they were the freest nation on Earth for over three hundred years. If not for the Third World War, there would be no Council of Economic Unions. The United States still would be the freest nation on Earth.”

“The Forbidden Zone. That’s another crock of Shit. They claim it’s hot with radiation, but that’s a lie. DC may be in ruins, but it’s not hot. Our people found that out,” John said.

“The council doesn’t want people digging in the ruins. They’re afraid of what they might find.”

“This guy’s not gonna show.”

Shawn noticed a light in the sky descending toward the surface. “You worry too much. He has a reputation as being a straight shooter. Just don’t cross the son of a bitch. Here he is now.”

***

Ludwig Von Wolf’s luxury yacht broke orbit with Jupiter, descending toward the icy moon. At the same time, Shawn looked across the driver’s compartment at his friend, John. His mind flashed back to when they served together in the Federal Defense Forces. He took Shawn under his wing and helped him fit into the unit when he first arrived, fresh out of boot camp. At that time, Shawn was only eighteen years old. John was four years older and he took an instant liking to the young man. A bond of friendship formed and Shawn began to look upon John as an older brother. It was John, who first approached him about joining the resistance. Even now, ten years later, I still think of John as an older brother.

An instant of doubt and indecision passed through Shawn’s brain. I hope I’m doing the right thing. I hope I’m not setting the wheels in motion that will lead to my best friend’s death. They watched the lights in the sky grow larger. Ludwig’s yacht descended toward the surface. Shawn smiled looking into John’s dark brown eyes. “Let’s step outside and meet our guest?”

“Let’s do it,” John said rubbing his hand through his short blond hair.

Shawn pressed the com button on the dashboard of the Land Rover. He spoke to the men in the vehicles parked behind him. “Attention people. Suit up. I want this equipment moved to site D as soon as it’s unloaded. If Consolidated security catches us out here we’re screwed.” He climbed out of the driver’s seat and stood in an aisle way between the two seats in the driver’s compartment. He turned and stepped through a doorway into the cargo area of the Land Rover. On his left and right were two small gray doors that led to the airlocks. Shawn turned to a storage cabinet lining the bulkhead and took out an EVA suit plus a pair of gravity boots. John opened an adjacent locker. He took out another EVA suit and another pair of gravity boots. They sat down on an aluminum bench setting next to the lockers and suited up.

Shawn put on his suit’s helmet. “Check my seals.”

John stepped up behind him. He placed his hands over the vents that allowed carbon monoxide to vent from the suit. “Take a breath.” Shawn took in a deep breath. “Now exhale.” Shawn breathed out. “Your seals are fine. Turn around and I’ll check your oxygen tanks.” Shawn turned around. “Your tanks are full. Do, me.” John put on his helmet.

Shawn checked his seals and his oxygen tanks. “Let’s do a com check.” He turned a small black dial on the neck of his suit, and the com-link came to life.

“I’m reading you five by five.”

“You’re coming in clear as well.” Shawn pressed a button next to the door on his right. The door receded into the wall and they stepped into the airlock. The inner door closed, they heard a slight hiss of air and he pressed the red button next to the door in front of him. The exterior door slid open and they stepped out onto the surface.

The miners, who had been riding in the vehicle’s cargo bay, exited the rear airlock. Ten men labored carrying five bulky aluminum storage containers. It took two men, one on each end of each container, to carry them. Shawn stepped away from the Land Rover and began to shout orders over his com-link. “Set those down here.” He pointed to an area well away from the vehicles while other men exited the vehicles behind them. “As soon as we do this deal, I want everything moved to site D before Consolidated Security makes a flyby. Let’s step lively.” Shawn activated the night vision feature on his suit’s helmet. His eyes turned skyward. He watched, Ludwig’s luxury yacht and three large cargo vessels descending to the surface. They stepped away from the vehicles waiting for the small fleet to land. The off-duty miners gathered around them, watching Ludwig’s yacht touchdown. A loud whine, came from the cargo vessel’s engines when they powered down. Bits and pieces of ice flew up off the ground forming a white cloud. They dissipated when the three cargo vessels touched down. They set behind a smaller, sleek-looking black space cruiser.

The men standing on the surface heard a slight hissing sound and a ramp extended, lowering to the ground. An airlock opened. Three men wearing black EVA suits carrying shoulder-fired weapons lumbered down the gangplank. They headed over to where Gallagher and Wilson stood. The three men stopped with three feet of space separating the two groups of men. The taller man standing in the center seemed nonchalant. The other two held their rifles at the ready position.

“Which one of you swinging dicks is Shawn Gallagher?” the man standing in the middle asked using a heavy German accent.

“That would be me,” Shawn said.

“Did you bring the gold?”

“Did you bring the guns?”

“Ya, I brought the guns, plus all the other items on your list.”

“Then I brought the gold.”

“Have your men bring the gold on board my ship. After I check the gold, you may check the guns. If everything is good, we make the deal.”

Shawn motioned to the men who had unloaded the gold from his Land Cruiser. They picked up the aluminum containers. They followed Ludwig and his employees up the boarding ramp. Ludwig opened the outer airlock and they stepped in. The men carrying the gold crammed into the airlock with them. They set the aluminum containers holding the gold down on the deck. The ship’s oxygen tanks filled the airlock with breathable air. The needle of the gage on the wall near the ceiling went from red to green.

“You may remove your helmets,” Ludwig said, taking off his black helmet to reveal a baldhead. Shawn noticed a jagged scar running across Ludwig’s forehead. They removed their helmets. “After your men deliver the gold to my study, have them leave the vessel. Three others besides yourself may stay.”

Shawn hung his helmet on a hook inside the airlock. “That’s fine.”

“This way gentlemen,” Ludwig said, stepping up to the interior door of the airlock. The door slid open and Ludwig stepped into a hallway covered with plush blue carpet. Shawn followed. He glanced to his left, noticing a narrow hallway that ended at a set of steps. The steps descended to a lower circular deck comprising the ship’s bridge. “This way if you will.” Ludwig led them to their right and down the corridor. He stopped at a doorway on his left. Shawn admired the thick oak door with its brass fixtures. It must be nice to live in the lap of luxury. He followed Ludwig into his study. John stepped in behind them. The men carrying the gold, struggling with the weight, entered the room.

“Here is fine,” Ludwig said, motioning to a place in the center of the floor and the men set down their burdens.

“John you stay,” Shawn said, motioning to two other men. “You two stay, the rest of you can leave.” Shawn looked about taking in the interior of Ludwig’s study. Like the hallway, plush blue carpeting covered the deck. A black leather couch was set against a bulkhead in front of them. Two black leather chairs were set facing the couch. A large video screen occupied the entire wall to their rear. Behind the black leather chairs, a long mahogany bar was set against the bulkhead to their left. What fascinated Shawn the most was the books. Bookshelves, with old leather-bound books, took up the bulkhead to their right.

“Let’s have a look at that gold,” Ludwig said.

Shawn turned, motioning to one of the miners that had stayed behind. “Open ’em up. Let’s get this done before Consolidated Security makes a flyby.”

“Not to worry. I paid them off. We’ve all the time in the world,” Ludwig said. The two miners, who had helped carry the gold, went to work unlatching and removing the container’s lids. They watched them remove the lid of the first container. Several stacks of shiny, solid gold bars were set neatly stacked inside the container. Ludwig let out a low whistle, looked into each container, and then picked up a gold bar from one. Taking a penknife from his pocket, he shaved a flake from the gold bar.

“It is good. If they weren’t, you wouldn’t be leaving this vessel alive,” Ludwig said.

“I’m not out to screw anybody,” Shawn said.

“They do look pretty,” John said, trying to lighten the mood, and stared down at the gold bars.

“My friend, we have a deal,” Ludwig said motioning to his two guards. “Show these three to the galley. We still have some cold cuts and beer in the refrigerator. Mr. Gallagher and I are going to have a drink while we talk business.”

“John stays with me,” Shawn said.

“As you wish. Have a seat. I’ll have my frau fetch us a bottle of Vodka.” They sat down in two patented leather chairs facing the leather couch. Ludwig pressed a small button on the arm of the couch and a chime rang. A young oriental woman wearing a short leather dress stepped through a black door next to the bar carrying a tray with a bottle and three shot glasses. She smiled and handed them each a shot glass. Shawn caught a glance into a deep valley of cleavage when the woman bent over to pour the Vodka. She caught him looking, and gave him another smile causing him to blush.

“Thank you,” Shawn said, taking in her pretty face. He couldn’t help but admire her high cheekbones and her exotic look. The woman turned to fill John’s glass. Shawn’s eyes dropped to the tight fit of the rubber-like dress stretched across the woman’s bottom. “I still want to see the guns,” he said after the oriental woman filled Ludwig’s glass.

“That will be all for now, Yoko. Leave the bottle,” Ludwig said. Turning his attention to Shawn, Ludwig continued. “I can assure you, everything is satisfactory. I brought everything you asked for. Let’s have a drink first and talk business. To a long and prosperous relationship.” Ludwig held up his glass for a toast and they downed the shot. Shawn watched the oriental woman retreat through the door from where she came in. He sputtered.

“That has to be some of the best Vodka I’ve ever tasted. It must be a black market bottle.”

Ludwig smiled, nodded, and looked at Shawn’s face with his piercing blue eyes. “When I make a sale, I don’t ask the customer any questions. What a customer does with the merchandise is his business. With an order this large, and with you paying in gold, it makes me curious.”

Shawn smiled. “I researched you on the VID-net and then contacted a few people that did business with you. One thing they told me was that you never Welch on a deal and that you keep your mouth shut, so I’ll tell you.”

Ludwig nodded. “Did they also say that if you burn me, I kill you?”

“That too, but that will never happen.”

“Good. Now tell me.”

Shawn leaned back in his chair. “Twenty-four hours from now, we are going to call a miner’s strike. Both here in the Jovian system and on all our mining facilities on the moons revolving around Saturn.”

“Interesting. Not too bright, but interesting. You don’t need this much armament for a strike.”

“The strike is a ruse to keep the Consolidated Security personnel busy. While they deal with a bunch of rowdy miners, we are going to seize the colonies on the moons of Jupiter and Saturn. We are going to declare independence from the Council of Economic Unions. We plan to form a new nation.”

Ludwig’s bottom jaw dropped. “Now I know you’re crazy. What is it you say in the North American Union? You have iron balls. How can I help?” This time Shawn’s jaw dropped in surprise and when he glanced at John, he saw a big smile spread across his face.

“We could pull this thing off after all,” John said.

“Why would you want to help us?” Shawn asked.

“It is obvious that you people are part of the resistance. Your movement sometimes receives anonymous credit donations. I have donated some sizable amounts. I support anyone or anything thing that causes problems for the Council of Economic Unions. If it weren’t for their high tax rates and their rules and regulations, I would not have to hide out in the asteroid belt. I would have a legitimate freighting business on Earth. They have reduced me to running guns and smuggling contraband. I resort to other illegal activities as well just to make some real money. So again, I ask, how can I help?”

Shawn paused for a moment. “We could use some ships. When we announce our independence, they’ll send federal forces.”

Ludwig laughed. “They’ll squish you like a bug.”

“By denying them the helium-3 and the hydrogen they might show some restraint,” John said. “Then there are the deuterium crystals that we mine.”

“There’s also the methane gas on Triton and the water ice that we mine here,” Shawn said.

“That’s exactly why they’ll try to squash you like a bug. Ships I can get. They’re old battlecruisers and old PPF fast reaction vessels, but we can repair them. What else?”

“Half of our miners have served in the Federal Defense Forces, but their skills are rusty. We could use people to help train them. We could use people to help get the ships ready to confront the federal forces,” Shawn said.

“That I can do. I have a sizeable mercenary force available to me. They can help with your defense until you get your people and vessels up to speed. There are only three things I would ask,” Ludwig said spreading his arms apart.

“What would that be?” Shawn said.

“One is that you will make all payments in gold. I will be taking a sizable risk. Number two if you pull this thing off you allow me to move my base of operations here. Number three if you do succeed that you set the taxes at a low enough rate that an honest man can make a living.”

Shawn grinned. “All three of those terms are acceptable. There’s a lot more gold where this came from.”

“This calls for another toast,” Ludwig said, standing to his feet. He poured them each another shot of Vodka. They stood to their feet and Ludwig stuck out his hand. “Do we have a deal?” Shawn took his hand and Ludwig’s grip hardened. “If you betray me, I will kill you.”

Their eyes locked. “That won’t happen. I’m a straight shooter. I don’t promise things that I can’t deliver.”

“I believe you. Let’s have another shot and then go see your new equipment.”

Ludwig called his guards into his study to guard the gold. Ludwig led them, down the main corridor, and took the turbo lift down to the cargo bay. Inside the cargo bay set several metal containers. Ludwig unfastened the latches on the first container and opened it. Shawn looked down at the black, wicked-looking weapons.

Ludwig handed Shawn an M-23 Blaster. “We’ve got M-23 Blasters, P-38 hand-held Blasters, grenades, and rocket launchers. We have atmospherically contained body armor, ammo, and energy packs for the blasters. Plus we have some K-Bar knives. We have field dressings plus an assortment of other medical supplies. Everything on your list is here, except for the vehicles. They are in the cargo ships outside. You’ve got what you need to start a small war.”

“Sweet,” Shawn said, examining one of the shoulder-fired weapons.

“The M-23 fires your standard 223 round, plus explosive rounds. It sets off an explosive charge when the round penetrates a body. It also fires a laser beam powered by the energy packs. There is a selector switch on the right side of the handgrip.”

“I know, I used to have one of these when I was with the Federal Defense Forces,” Shawn said, handing him back the weapon. Ludwig opened the rest of the containers and showed them the rest of the equipment. After examining the rest of the merchandise, he closed up the containers.

“I’ll have my people unload this stuff. Let’s go see the vehicles.”

Ludwig led them back to the turbo lift. They rode up to the main deck, entered the airlock, and put on their helmets. Dressed in their EVA gear, they went to the cargo ship setting behind Ludwig’s yacht. They made their way up the entrance ramp through the airlock and onboard the cargo vessel. Ludwig took them to the cargo bay. Along the way, they passed several crewmen and women. They dressed in black uniforms as they went about their business. Shawn let out a low whistle. They viewed the long line of military vehicles occupying the cargo bay.

“We have your basic armored, atmospherically contained main battle tanks. They’re old, but they’re in good shape. I’ve added extra armor. The other vessels are your basic fast-attack-tracked armored personnel carriers. They are all-purpose atmospherically contained vehicles. Is everything satisfactory?”

“Very much so,” Shawn said.

“How soon will you want the ships?”

“As soon as you can get them to us. We still have some gold stockpiled here on Europa. We’re expecting another shipment in a week or two,” Shawn said.

Ludwig smiled. “I give you six months after you make your declaration before the federals attack. The schedule will be tight, but I’m sure we can get it together. I’ll contact my mercenary forces as soon as we’re in space. I’ll get a security force in place as soon as possible. When I secure the ships, I’ll contact you on a secure com-net. I’d like you to come to see my base of operations in the belt. I’ll even cook you dinner.”

“I’d enjoy that,” Shawn said.

“I’ll send you the coordinates once I have secured the ships. Then you can come to view your new fleet. We’ll mix business with pleasure.”

“Great. Let’s get this stuff unloaded,” Shawn said. They shook hands and went to work. For the next hour and a half, the miners helped Ludwig’s people unload the cargo. Once they unloaded the vessels, the miners gathered around. They watched the ships lift off the surface of Europa. A cloud of ice particles flew into the atmosphere.

“We did it,” John said through the com-link of his EVA suit.

“That was the easy part. After tomorrow it gets dangerous.”

“Yeah. We’d best get this stuff up to site D,” John said.

“Let’s move people! Let’s get this equipment loaded and get these vehicles out of here ASAP!” Shawn yelled. The off-duty miners scrambled to load the equipment into the vehicles. They headed to an old abandoned mining site in a remote area to the southwest of the main colony. A half-hour later, a Consolidated Security shuttle flew over. The pilot noticed the indentations on the surface where the ships had landed. He saw the tracks in the ice where several vehicles had headed southwest. The pilot shrugged and told the co-pilot to make a notation in the logbook.

***

Feel free to leave a comment below. I would love to hear from you. Until next time, Take Two. Peace Out!

Posted in Law of Attraction, meditation, subconscious mind, writing | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

What doYou Think?

Hello, I hope everyone who reads this is having a great day. If you are not, tell yourself that you are. In fact, in the morning when you wake up visualize how you want your day to go and tell yourself that you are having a wonderful day. Before I get into today’s topic, I want to let you know what is going on with me. As far as my writing goes, I am in the editing process of my new novel, The Mojave Kid, It is a sequel to my novel, The Tale Spinner. I am also halfway through the rough draft of a novel, titled Gone Missing. It is a tale of a special needs child who gets abducted off the street and uses his special mental abilities to reach out for help. So far it’s been fun to write. Other than my writing, I am still practicing martial arts, meditating, and working on my online business, but enough about me. Let’s get to the day’s topic.

What do you think? What thoughts are bouncing around inside your head? Are they negative thoughts or positive thoughts? Have you ever considered monitoring your thoughts? I suggest that you do so all the time. Especially, if you are trying to manifest something positive in your life such as wealth, happiness, or good health. We all have negative thoughts sometimes, but when you do, handcuff that thought, say, “Cancel,” and chase that thought out of your mind because thoughts create. You create your reality and you get what you focus on. If you are always focusing on negative things, more negative things will come your way. In turn, if you focus on positive things more positive things will come to you. This can affect your health as well. Here’s an example. When I worked for the railroad, one night I worked an extra shift on overtime, working through the night. During some downtime, I was talking to an older gentleman who was about to retire. When he wasn’t working he played the saxophone with a band once in a while. I asked him if he was looking forward to his coming retirement. He wasn’t too excited about it. He said that most railroaders don’t live too long after they retire. I said, “You need to quit thinking about dying. Start thinking about living. Think about all of the fun you will have playing your saxophone with the band and you won’t have to worry about coming down to the railroad to work your shift.” Willy retired and within a few months after he did, he developed stomach cancer and eventually died. He was a good man and he is missed by me as well as his family and friends. So monitor your thoughts. Think positive thoughts such as long life, health, wealth, and happiness, but thinking is not enough. Visualize living the life of your dreams and becoming your best self. As always feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think.

Human brain medical digital illustration

The above image was from Raw Pixle. I thought it was cool.

Learn how to program your mind for wealth and success.

Now for your reading pleasure

The Toomstone Run

The Sidewinders Motorcycle Club rumbled down highway 80. They headed for Tombstone Arizona and the Road Dogs followed. Spades, road captain of the Sidewinders led the pack as the road snaked its way through a sea of Socorro cactus. The road wove its way up a steep hill and then descended into a low-lying valley. The cold morning air had a sharp bite to it that numbed the cheeks of the bikers. Ignoring the cold, Spades cranked the throttle and thundered across the valley. On the south end of the valley, Spades came to a hairpin curve. He hit a massive pothole and his front tire blew causing a loud bang. The bike lurched to the right, throwing Spades into the desert, and the bike tumbled after him.

Bones braked hard, pulled over to the side of the road, and parked his bike. The side stand was barely down when he jumped off the bike and ran over to where Spades lay battered and bleeding. The rest of the pack pulled over to the side of the road, parked their scooters, and ran after him. Bones knelt, down next to his fallen brother and tried to see how bad he was. He had a sucking chest wound, blood poured from a deep puncture wound on his upper thigh, and he had a broken leg. He also looked as if he might have some broken ribs.

“How bad is he?” Road Kill, president of the Road Dogs, asked, kneeling, down next to Bones.

“He’s busted up bad. This is, fucked up,” Bones said, trying to stem the blood flood on Spades’ leg.

“I’ll call nine, one-one,” Road Kill said, and headed back to the road where the rest of the bikers milled about.

“Tell them to hurry,” Bones yelled. “He’s fadin’ fast!”

***

Hey Bro, this is Cave Man. It seems like I hardly get time to party anymore up at Biker Heaven without something going wrong back on Earth. Then they call out the Halo Riders. It seemed to me that we had just gotten back. I thought things were good when Little Danny Boy came into the clubhouse at Biker Heaven and joined me at the bar.

“What’s up, bro?” I asked. “What are you drinking? I’m buying,” I said.

“The bros are in trouble,” Little Danny boy said.

“What? What now? We were just down there. When we left it looked like the Road Dogs and the Sidewinders were getting along fine.”

“They still are,” Little Danny Boy said. “They’re heading out on that Tombstone run they were talking about. One of the bros is going to go down and we need to save him. It’s not his time yet. The alliance between the Road Dogs and the Sidewinders is a good thing. It’s going to be beneficial to both clubs.”

“When do we leave?” I asked.

“Right now,” Little Danny Boy said.

“Then let’s roll,” I said.

We stepped outside, climbed onto our spirit bikes, and headed down the King’s Highway. Once we reached the borderlands, we pressed down on the bars. Descending through the clouds, we touched down on a desert highway heading south. We headed toward Tombstone right behind the Sidewinders and the Road Dogs. When we arrived at the scene, the bros gathered around a battered body that lay in the desert near the side of the road. A damaged Harley Davidson Night Train motorcycle lay in the desert near the shoulder of the road. We pulled our spirit bikes over to the side of the highway and parked them by the side of the road. We headed over to where the downed biker lay. Traveling incognito, the bros neither heard us nor saw us when we rolled up. We stood next to them, looking down at the dying biker.

Spades’ spirit was trying to rise out of his body, but I was having none of that.

“No, you don’t bro. It’s not your time,” I said and knelt next to Bones.

“I’m hurtin’ man,” Spades said, but no one heard this but me and the Halo Riders.

“You got to hold on,” I said.

I put my hand on Spades’ chest and pushed his spirit back into his body. Then I placed my hand on top of Bones’ hand where he was trying to stem the flow of blood on Spades’ leg. I felt a surge of power shoot through my hand. A bluish-green light spread across the wound. None of the bros still in their mortal bodies saw this. The blood flow stopped.

“Thank God the bleeding has finally stopped,” Bones said. The sound of an ambulance’s siren echoed across the desert.

“Does he have a pulse?” Road Kill asked.

Bones reached up and placed two fingers on his neck. “He has a pulse. It’s faint but it’s there.”

The ambulance pulled up next to the side of the road and a paramedic’s vehicle pulled in behind them. A chunky black woman and a tall skinny white guy with blond hair climbed out of the vehicle. They pulled a gurney out of the back. Two Hispanic paramedics jumped out of their vehicles. They grabbed their medical bags and ran across the desert to where Spades lay.

“Make room!” a short chubby paramedic yelled. The bikers backed away and the paramedics went to work.

“How is he?” the black female ambulance attendant asked.

“Not good. We need to get him to the hospital in Tucson ASAP! Get the back brace!” the paramedic yelled. The female ambulance attendant hustled back to the ambulance. She brought the back brace. Once they dealt with Spades’ open wounds, the paramedics put him on the back brace and then onto the gurney.

“Is he gonna make it?” Bones asked. A tall skinny Hispanic paramedic with a thin mustache shrugged. “He’s hurt bad. Right now it’s touch and, go. Do you want to ride in the back of the ambulance with him?”

“Yeah,” Bones said and then glanced at Two Belts. “Why don’t you and Big Foot follow us on your scooters. The rest of you guys head on down to Tombstone. I’ll call you on my cell when we get to the hospital.” Glancing at Road Kill, Bones said, “Why don’t you Road Dogs lead the pack.”

Road Kill nodded. “We’ll wait about twenty minutes, take a smoke break, and let everyone’s nerves calm down. Then we’ll roll.”

Bones touched Road Kill’s shoulder for a brief second. Then he headed to the ambulance with the attendants. They loaded Spades into the back and were about to close the door. Little Danny Boy and I climbed inside and joined them. The rest of the Halo Riders rode in the back of the pack when the bros headed down to Tombstone. As the ambulance pulled away Little Danny Boy and I leaned back against the door of the ambulance. We watched the attendants work to keep Spades alive. Spades’ spirit rose out of his body. The heart monitor went flat.

“We’re losing him!” one of the paramedics yelled and reached for the defibrillator paddles.

“God damn!” Spades’ spirit yelled. “I can’t stay in that messed up body! It hurts too much!”

“Oh, no you don’t! Get back in there! It ain’t your time!” I yelled.

“Who are you to tell me?” he said, but I grabbed him by the shoulders and threw his spirit back down on his body.

“Wait a minute. I got a pulse-no he’s gone flat again!” the paramedic yelled.

Spade’s spirit rose out of his body. Little Danny Boy and I went after it. He flew around the inside of that ambulance like a chimpanzee on crack. We were right behind him, but then the paramedic hit him with the defibrillator.

“Damn that hurt!” Spades yelled as his spirit slammed back into his body.

While all this was going on, Bones leaned back trying to stay out of their way. He watched the paramedics work on his bro. A look of shock and pain-filled his face.

Little Danny Boy and I sat down on Spades’ chest. Every time his spirit tried to rise out of his body I put my hand on its head and pushed it back in. “Damn you’re one of the most stubborn black fellers I’ve ever met. I told you it’s not your time,” I said.

The ambulance arrived at the hospital in Tucson, and the attendants rushed Spades into the ER. Bones climbed out of the back as Two Belts and Big Foot rolled up on their scooters. Little Danny Boy and I climbed out of the ambulance. We watched Bones, Two Belts, and Big Foot rush into the hospital as they wheeled Spades inside.

“Do we need to go with them?” I asked.

Little Danny Boy shook his head. “No, once they get him into the OR and hook him up to some more of their machines, they’ll stabilize him. He’s gonna make it.”

“Are you sure he won’t try coming out of his body again?” I asked.

“No. That shock took a lot out of him. He won’t have the energy.”

“What do we do now?” I asked.

Now, we head back to Tombstone,” Little Danny Boy said.

I nodded, and we glanced at the curb. Our spirit bikes appeared we climbed into the saddle and shot up into the sky.

***

Road Kill led a somber crew of bikers down the highway, heading south for Tombstone. Tears welled up in Road Kill’s eyes, but he blamed it on the wind. Damn, I hate it when a bro goes down on a scooter he thought as he cranked the throttle and tried to keep his mind off the crash. The road snaked its way through several curves and then climbed a hill. To his right, he saw an older motel, and to his left, Boot Hill. We’re here; he thought and then led the bikers off the main highway and into Tombstone Arizona.

They parked their scooters on Freemont Street and gathered on the boardwalk.

“Where to now?” one of the remaining sidewinders asked.

Road Kill sighed. “I don’t know about you guys, but I could use a beer. Let’s head up to the Crystal Palace Saloon.”

“Yeah, and later let’s head over to the Lookout Lodge and check into our rooms,” Little Mike said.

“Whatever. I want to call Bones as soon as possible and see how Spades is doing,” Snake Eyes said.

Road Kill laid a hand on his shoulder. “Sure thing, bro, but I don’t think the ambulance has had time to make it to Tucson yet. We’ve all got our cell phones. Bones will give us a call when he gets a chance.”

Snake Eyes nodded. They headed down the boardwalk heading to the Crystal Palace Saloon. Unseen by human eyes, the Halo Riders strolled along behind them.

“This is funny,” Chico said to Old School.

“What?”

“Look at all these spooks, walking among the living,” Chico said.

“Yeah, it’s like there’s a whole different population in the city. All old historical towns and cities are like this,” Old School said. He nodded to the ghost of a rugged-looking old cowboy ambling down the boardwalk.

“Why don’t they cross over and go to the light?”

Old school shrugged. “Back in their day, they were so attached to the land that they don’t want to leave.”

They sauntered into the Crystal Palace saloon behind the bros. Old School stopped, dead in his tracks. “Well, look at those two,” Old School said.

“Are they who I think they are?” Chico asked.

“Yep. Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday.” Holliday nodded and Wyatt smiled. “Why ain’t you two up at Cowboy Heaven livin’ it up?” Old School asked.

“We’re here for the reenactment,” the ghost of Doc Holliday said.

“What reenactment?” Chico asked.

“The reenactment of the fight at the OK Corral. We come down here for the anniversary every year,” Wyatt said. “Come on over and have a drink.”

“We need to keep an eye on our bros, but yeah. I could use a drink,” Old School said.

Chico and Old School sat down to have a drink with Wyatt and Doc. The rest of the Halo Riders took a table next to where the Road Dogs and the Sidewinders sat.

Little Danny Boy and I touched down on highway 80 north of Tombstone Arizona. We rolled into town, parking our spirit bikes next to where the bros had left their Harleys. We ambled down the boardwalk. I exchanged pleasantries with the spirits we encountered along the way.

“Tombstone sure has its share of ghosts,” Little Danny Boy said.

“Yeah, it was wild and woolly in its day,” I said.

We stepped into the Crystal Palace Saloon and sat down with the Halo Riders keeping track of the bros. I joined Old School and Chico at the table with Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday. I nodded at Doc. “How are you doing?” I said.

Holliday shrugged. “Fair to middling.”

“How’s the bro that crashed?” Chico asked.

“He’s stable now. He’ll be all right,” Little Danny Boy said.

Road Kill’s cell phone rang. He answered the call and then nodded at the bros sitting around the table. “That was Bones. He said to tell you guys that Spades is going to make it. He flat-lined in the ambulance twice, but he’s stable now. They’re on their way back down here. He said that we’d all stop back at the hospital in Tucson and check on him on the way back.”

Snake Eyes raised his glass into the air. “A toast to our brother Spades.” The bikers lifted their bottles in salute and then Road Kill bought the next round.

“Are we done here?” Chico asked.

Little Danny shook his head. “No, there’s trouble coming down the pike,” he said.

“What kind of trouble?” I asked.

“There’s some red-neck white boys that call themselves The Skins. They think they’re some tough hombres,” Little Danny Boy said.

“Are they a bike club?” I asked.

“Yeah. Your typical white trailer trash on motor scooters. They hate anyone, not like them,” Little Danny Boy said.

“This should be interesting,” I said glancing at the door. “They just showed up.”

Five of the grubbiest looking bikers that I had ever seen, pushed their way through the batwing doors. They sauntered into the Crystal Palace Saloon.

The Skins lined the bar and started getting loud. One of them bumped into Road Kill, spilling his beer in the process, and went berserk.

“Why you peckerwood! Look what you made me do!” he screamed.

“Sorry, but you’re the one who bumped into me,” Road Kill said in a calm voice.

The skinhead biker swung on him, Road Kill blocked the punch and knocked him on his ass. The two groups of bikers merged as one and the brawl started.

“We should stop this,” I said.

Little Danny Boy shook his head. “No, let them work it out. We’ll step in if one of those Skins draws a weapon.”

We sat back and watched.

“In our day we would have drawn iron and put an end to the nonsense,” Doc Holliday said. “We were more civilized back then.”

I chuckled good enjoying the company of Wyatt and Doc. “I guess that little dust-up down at the OK corral was your way of showing how civilized you were?”

“That was a rather unfortunate incident,” Holliday said.

“That it was, Doc,” Earp said.

“We were up against some brash young men who called themselves the Cowboys.”

The fight continued near the bar and I caught a flash of reflected light off metal as one of the Skins pulled a knife. If I had been visible to the human eye, it would have seemed like a blur of motion. I shot across the room and grabbed the wrist of the biker holding the knife. The biker’s eyes widened in pain and he dropped the knife. Little Mike hit him with an uppercut and finished him off with a three-punch combination. The last of the Skins fell and they lay bleeding on the barroom floor. The Road Dogs and Sidewinders, battered and bleeding, stood over them.

“You guys better find another bar to drink in,” Road Kill said.

As the Skins picked themselves up off the floor, the one with the knife shook his hand.

“What’s wrong with you?” one of his buddies said as they stumbled out.

“I pulled my knife and was going to stick one of them peckerwoods when my knife felt like it was one fire. Pain shot up my arm and my knife was so hot I had to drop it.”

The Skins had stumbled out when Bones, along with Two Belts and Big Foot entered the saloon. They stood there taking in the scene.

“What happened here?” Bones asked.

Road Kill grinned. “We had a little discussion with a bunch of scumbag bikers called the Skins.”

“Shit. Sorry, I missed it,” Big Foot said.

“Did anyone get hurt?” Two Belts asked.

“No, one tried to stick me with his knife, I showed him the error of his ways,” Road Kill said.

“How is, Spades?” Snake Eyes asked.

“He’s gonna make it. You guys look like you need another beer. I’ll buy the next round and then we’ll head over to the motel,” Bones said.

The Road Dogs and the Sidewinders staggered down to their motel. They unloaded their gear in their rooms. They sent two prospects on a beer run and spent the rest of the evening drinking beer and partying down by the pool. Bones made a call with his cell phone to the hospital in Tucson to check up on Spades.

“How’s he doing?” Road Kill asked.

“The doc says they upgraded his condition from critical to stable,” Bones said.

“That’s good, bro. That’s real good,” Road Kill said.

The Skins MC pulled into the motel an hour later. They occupied three rooms. Their rooms were five rooms down from where the Road Dogs and the Sidewinders were staying.

“I hope we don’t have any more trouble with those dudes,” Little Mike said.

Bones shrugged. “As long as they stay on their side of the motel and we stay on ours, everything should be fine.” The bros stayed down by the pool until the wee hours of the morning. The Halo riders stood back. We stood guard watching their backs. The restless spirits wandered the streets of Tombstone Arizona.

***

The bros woke up around noon the next day. A long night of partying had taken its toll. Everyone rolled out of their bunks late the next morning. They stumbled down the boardwalk and had breakfast. The Halo Riders ambled along behind them. I nodded at the ghost of a young woman in a gingham dress as she strolled by. The bros chowed down on scrambled eggs and fried potatoes. Once they had about three cups of black coffee, they came to life.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” Road Kill asked.

“Oh, I thought we’d do the tourist thing. I’d like to head down and check out the Bird Cage Theater. Then go see the reenactment of the shooting at the OK Corral. That’s going to happen around one or two.”

Sitting at a table behind the bros with Doc and Wyatt, I said, “Is this reenactment any good?”

Doc shrugged. “Oh, they put on a good show, but as far as if it’s historically accurate, I don’t know. They got some things right.”

“I don’t remember all the details. We were kind of busy at the time,” Wyatt said.

The ghost of a couple of cowboys in range attire plus two tall lanky men in drover’s coats swaggered into the saloon.

“Look what the wind blew in,” Doc said.

“Who are those guys?” Little Danny Boy asked.

“The two cowboys are Curly Bill Brocius and Ike Clanton,” Doc said.

“Those two tall drinks of water are my brothers, Virgil and Morgan,” Wyatt said.

“Say, we’re not gonna have trouble are we?” I asked.

Doc laughed. “No, death has a way of ending old revelries. We get along fine now. They’re here for the reenactment like us.”

The bros tanked up on breakfast and about a gallon of coffee. After that, we strolled along behind them as they headed up to the Bird Cage Theater. Doc Holliday and the Earp brothers went with us. Inside the Bird Cage Theater, I stopped gazing at the former opera house, which was now a museum.

“This place is, crowded,” Little Danny Boy said. He wasn’t talking about the human occupants, at least not the live ones.

“The Bird Cage was always a lively place,” Doc Holliday said.

I glanced about at the ghost of the town’s former residences. Up near the ceiling were the cribs where the prostitutes used to ply their trade. There were seven cribs on one side of the room and seven on the other. They had curtains on the cribs so the occupants could have a wee bit of privacy. In each one of the cribs, the ghost of a former town prostitute looked down on the scene below.

“Hey there lover?” the ghost of a blonde-headed prostitute wearing a white see-through camisole said. “Want to come up for a bit?”

I looked up and smiled. “No thank you. Some other time.”

We watched the bros go through the Bird Cage Theater. Then we tagged along behind them as they strolled down the boardwalk.

“I say these Iron horses that your boys ride. They sure are noisy,” Doc said.

“Yeah, but they’re a kick to ride. You’d enjoy it,” I said.

“I favor the living breathing kind of horse, but I wouldn’t mind one of those spirit bikes I saw you guys ride in on,” Doc said.

“I’m sure we could arrange something,” I said.

“I’m with Doc here. Give me a good stout horse between my legs and I’ll be happier than a fly in a pile of shit,” Wyatt said. His brother Morgan nodded in agreement. We shadowed the bros for the rest of the morning. Around twelve-thirty we all headed over to the OK Corral to watch the reenactment. We reached the OK Corral behind Fly’s photo studio. The re-enactors gathered in the back lot behind the corral. A large group of tourists gathered around to watch the show. Moving unseen amongst the crowd of the living humans was the town’s ghostly population. Doc Holliday, the Earp brothers, and the Clantons gathered near the edge of the crowd to watch the show. The bros stood off to themselves taking it all in. The re-enactors gathered in the back lot behind the photo studio. They faced off against each other. Three wore long black drover’s coats. The ones playing the Clantons wore range attire. Each one of them wore a red sash around their midsection.

“You Clantons have been looking for a fight and now you’re gonna get one!” the re-enactor playing Virgil Earp yelled. “Throw up your hands I’m disarming you!” he yelled pointing a rifle. The re-enactors playing the role of the Clantons went for their guns. “Hold it! That’s not what I want!” the one playing Virgil yelled. There was a hesitation of about two seconds. Then the sound of gunfire echoed up the street, only they were using blank ammunition. When the smoke cleared a few of the re-enactors lay on the ground playing dead. The crowd of tourists applauded.

“Well, they are getting better,” Doc said.

“It gets better every year,” Ike Clanton said.

“This gentleman they have playing me seems pretty good,” Doc said.

“Doc you love the limelight, even if you are dead,” Wyatt said.

“Pretty Cool,” Bones said. “Let’s head back to the Chrystal Palace. I’m buying.”

We headed up the boardwalk and joined the bros back at the saloon. They were turning a corner when they ran right into a group of Skins.

“I’ve had about enough of you red-neck peckerwoods!” their grubby leader yelled.

“Sorry. We didn’t see you there,” Bones said.

“Sorry, my ass! We’re gonna finish this once and for all! Meet us in the back lot behind the OK Corral at midnight! By that time the citizens will have gone to bed! Make sure you bring your guns!” the grubby biker yelled and then stormed by with the rest of his crew.

“Good Lord. I hate rude obnoxious people,” Doc Holliday, who stood next to me, said.

“I do too. These old boys in these motorcycle clubs sure know how to get into trouble,” I said. We strolled down to the Crystal Palace Saloon.

The bros gathered around a table drinking beer and discussed the problem with the Skins.

“We can’t just, not show up,” Bones said. “They would spread the word, we’d get branded as cowards and we wouldn’t be safe on the streets.”

“Yeah, but we don’t want to throw down with those guys and get into a gunfight. The Road Dogs ain’t that type of club and I know that the Sidewinders aren’t either,” Road Kill said.

Bones sighed. “I know but what are we supposed to do?”

“Let’s take our handguns. We’ll only use them if we have to. I hope we can talk these guys into putting down their guns then we’ll kick their asses,” Little Mike said.

“Fat chance of that happening,” I said.

“I agree. Those are some rude boys. If you don’t mind, I’d like to join you all for this little fracas,” Doc said.

“Sure. We can use all the help we can get Little Danny Boy said.

“If we’re going to get into a rumble with these dudes, I’d like to get some rest first. Especially if I have to worry about getting my hide ventilated,” Two Belts said. He couldn’t hear the ghostly conversation going on behind him.

“That’s not a bad idea. Let’s head over to the lodge and get some rest,” Bones said.

“I second that,” Road Kill said.

The bros finished their beer and headed back to the motel. Doc and the Earp brothers stayed on at the Chrystal Palace playing poker. They played with the ghost of a few gamblers that they knew from back in the day.

After getting some rest, the bros headed back down to the OK Corral at eleven-thirty that evening. The Halo Riders were right behind them. Doc Holliday and the Earp brothers strolled up and joined us. A full moon looked down on the streets of Tombstone.

“You know, I hate this kind of shit. Why can’t these assholes live and let live? Why fight when you can party?” Road Kill said.

“Yeah, I hear you,” Bones said. “To me, it’s all about the booze, the bikes, and the babes.”

Doc Holliday glanced over at the bike parked next to the boardwalk. “If I were alive right now, I would enjoy riding one of those things.”

The Skins motorcycle club sauntered up thirty minutes later. They spread out in a line facing the Road Dogs and the Sidewinders.

“Time to go to work,” Little Danny Boy said and we stepped between the two groups of bikers.

“Heaven forbid that I should miss out on the fun,” Doc Holliday said and stepped up next to the Halo Riders.

“I’m with you Doc. Let’s show these SOBs the error of their ways,” Wyatt said.

Road Kill and Bones approached the Skins with their hands raised. “Can’t we talk about this?” Bones said.

“Time for talking is over! I told you peckerwoods to bring your guns!” the chapter president of the Skins yelled and then pulled his 45.

I stepped up to him and grabbed the barrel. The gun turned red hot and he dropped it to the ground.

“What the hell?” he said and stepped backward. I backhanded him across the face. “Who hit me?” he said a bewildered look crossing his face. The other skins pulled their guns.

“Why you rude boy? I’ll be your huckleberry,” Holliday said. He pushed the skin standing next to the chapter president backward. The skinhead biker whirled about trying to see where the voice came from and who pushed him.

“Pull that smoke wagon and let’s go to work you worthless piece of cow shit!” Wyatt yelled slapping another one of the skins in the face. Trembling in fear, the Skins motorcycle club waved their guns about. They were ready to shoot at anything that moved. Little Danny Boy held out his hand and a flash of blue light shot from his fingertips. It enveloped the weapons. The Skin’s guns flew out of their hands and landed in the dirt in front of where the Road Dogs and Sidewinders stood.

“What the hell is this?” Bones asked.

“Remember those old boys I told you about? They call themselves the Halo Riders. They always show up when there’s trouble. This seems like some of Cave Man’s doings,” Road Kill said.

“I don’t know about you guys, but now that they’re disarmed, I’m gonna kick some ass,” Little Mike said. Bones and Road Kill grinned. As one man, the Road Dogs and the Sidewinders crossed the vacant lot. When they reached the Skins, they unleashed their fury. For a few minutes, the only sound was that of fists slapping bone. They beat the Skins down to the dirt. They didn’t stop until the skin-headed bikers lay on their backs begging for mercy.

“Get your asses on your scooters and don’t let us catch you in the state of Arizona again!” Road Kill yelled. The battered skinhead bikers climbed to their feet. They stumbled to their motorcycles and roared out of Tombstone. Their taillights disappeared into the night.

“Thanks a bunch, Cave Man,” Little Mike said, even though he couldn’t see me.

“You’re welcome,” I said projecting my voice so he could hear me.

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Cave Man. I haven’t had that much fun in a while,” Doc Holliday said.

“If I hadn’t seen that shit with mine own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it,” Bones said.

“That’s nothing compared to some of the shit that I’ve seen. I could tell you some stories that would curl your hair. Let’s head down to the Crystal Palace. I’ll buy you the first round and I’ll fill you in on the adventures of Cave Man and his bros,” Little Mike said.

“That sounds like a grand idea. I could use a beer myself. Why don’t we join them?” Doc said so that’s what we did.

A big grin spread across Spades’ face when he saw everyone step into his hospital room in Tucson Arizona.

“Hey. It’s good to see you’re awake. How ya feelin’ bro?” Bones asked.

“I hurt everywhere I can touch. My leg’s busted and my bike’s totaled, but other than that I’m doin’ okay.”

“You’re lucky to be alive,” Road Kill said.

“Yeah. Forget about the bike. If it’s totaled, the insurance will cover it. If it’s not, we’ll get it fixed. You get well, bro,” Bones said.

I stood in the corner with the Halo Riders and smiled. “That dude was stubborn,” I said.

“Yeah, I never had to sit on a body before to keep its spirit inside,” Little Danny Boy said.

“How soon until they let you out of this joint?” Two Belts asked.

“The doc says that I’ll be here for a week or two,” Spades said.

Two Belts laughed and said, “Man it sucks to be you.”

“Say, guys. I’m sorry that I crashed and ruined the run down to Tombstone,” Spades said.

Bones stepped up to his bed and laid a hand on his shoulder. “You didn’t ruin nothin’ bro. You didn’t ruin nothin’.”

“I heard you guys ran into some trouble with another club?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you about it after they cut you loose from this place,” Bones said.

We stood back watching the bros pay their respects to Spades and then stepped along behind them. They headed out to their scooters. For a while, we rumbled along behind them when they left. When the bros turned off heading down to Harlem Springs, we kept going. We turned mortal enjoying the wind in our hair for about a hundred miles. Little Danny Boy looked over at me and grinned. “The last one to reach Biker Heaven buys the beer,” he yelled and then pulled up on his handlebars and shot up into the sky. Naturally, I tore off after him like my tail was on fire, with the rest of the Halo Riders hot on my ass.

####

If you have enjoyed these short stories and you want to read them all, check out Tales From the Lost Highway at amazon.com Until next time think good thoughts and good things will happen.

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Forbidden Words

Good morning! I hope you are having a great day. If you are not, tell yourself that you are. Say to yourself, “Today is a wonderful day and I expect great things to happen today.” Today I would like to talk about forbidden words and phrases. These are words and phrases that you must remove from your vocabulary. The number one phrase you must remove from your
vocabulary is I can’t. I can’t do this. Instead say, I can do this. Even though you may not believe it. That’s why you are saying that you can do this. Even better, say “I must do this now.” Other forbidden words and phrase are, “I’m too old.” “I’m too young.” “I don’t know how.” Tell yourself that you can do anything. That you always get what you want. You universe brings you what you focus on, so don’t use any words of phrases that hold you back from getting what you want. When I was in my twenties I practiced martial arts, but I stopped doing that. I always wanted to get back into it. In 2019 at the age of sixty-two, I stopped into our local Kung Fu and karate school and watched a class. As I sat
there watching the kids and adults working out in the dojo I had a Devil on my left shoulder telling me, “You’re too old for this. You can’t do this.” On my other shoulder I had an angel telling me, “If you don’t try, you’ll be sorry.” So I paid for my first month of classes and signed up. What I discovered, is that I can do this. I may not be as good as the other people, who have been in the class for years, and my body may not be as limber as the younger people in the class, but I can do martial arts to the best of my ability, and I can improve on that. The only one that I am in competition with is myself. Shortly after signing up for the Karate and Kun Fu classes I also joined the Thi Chi class. At the time I signed up, I weighed about one hundred and eight five pounds, and I had a little bit of a pot belly. All I did was ride my motorcycle once in a while drink beer, and write during the evenings. Martial arts has changed my life. Now in twenty-twenty three, I weigh one hundred and sixty pounds, I feel healthier and I have cut way back on my drinking. I recently earned my green belt and I am halfway to black. If I would have listened to the negative voices in my head, I wouldn’t have achieved this. Also in twenty nineteen I rode my motorcycles with a group of friends to a motorcycle club event in Alabama. After the event, I rode up to New Hampshire, by myself to visit my daughter and grandkids. I had a great time. On
the way home I visited Gettysburg Pennsylvania and took a tour of the battlefields. I was on the road for a month. I saw cool things and met cool people. This would never have happened if I would have listened to the negative voices in my head that said, “I can’t.” So eliminate those forbidden words and phrases the come into your mind. Throw them out of your brain box because you can.

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New Blood

John Rogers backed off on the throttle. He pulled into the parking lot of, O’ Sullivan’s Place, an Irish pub on the outskirts of Harlem Springs Arizona. He noticed a few other Harleys in the parking lot. Four of which he recognized. They set parked off by themselves and three others parked closer to the main entrance to the pub. Running late, John took a large duffle bag off the back of his bike and hurried across the parking lot to the front door.

John paused for a few seconds letting his eyes grow accustomed to the dim barroom. He noticed a group of bikers sitting at the bar and ignored them. Crossing the crowded barroom, he headed to where four of his buddies sat at a table near the back of the bar. The bikers at the bar wore the patch of the Road Dogs motorcycle club.

“Hey bro. How are things on the highway?” a tall corn-fed white boy sitting at the table said when he stepped up.

“Hot as hell. Like usual. I’ll be glad when winter gets here,” John said.

“Yeah, being a flagman in Arizona can be a bitch in the summertime. Did you happen to notice the guys sitting at the bar? This might not be such a good idea,” a big hairy Scandinavian sitting next to the corn-fed white boy said.

“I got no problems with the Road Dogs. Once we get our club up and running, we’ll have a sit down with them, but for now, this is our business,” John said.

“Let’s see the patches,” a short wiry blond-headed guy at the table said.

John sat the duffle bag down on the table, unzipped it, and laid five denim vests down on the table. He held one up for inspection. “This one’s mine,” he said.

The main patch depicted a snake crawling sideways through the sand. The top rocker said Sidewinders. The small MC cube set off to the side of the main patch.

The corn-fed white boy laughed when he read the name tag on the front of the vest. “Bones. Well, that fits. You do like your dominoes.”

“You bet I do Bill. You guys asked me to come up with some biker names, so here’s yours,” John said and handed, Bill Williams his vest. “We’re gonna call you Snake eyes. Turning to James Parker, the only black man at the table, he handed him his vest and said, “Jim, you are now known as Spades.”

The black man laughed. “That’ll work.”

Handing a vest to the short wiry blond-headed guy, named Tim Donavan, he said, “Tim. Your name is, Two-Bit.” Nodding to Bob Peterson, the big hairy Scandinavian, he said, “Bob. You are now known as Big Foot.”

Bob laughed. “Big Foot. I like that.”

Bones handed out the vests and they all put them on.

“I know we decided that you would be president, but what about the rest of the officer positions?” Spades asked.

Bones sat down at the table, a waitress took their drink orders and he said, “I figured Snake Eyes for VP. Spades, I want you to be our road captain. Two-Bit; since you’re the math whiz I’d like you to be our secretary and treasurer as well as our tail gunner.”

“What about me?” Big Foot asked.

Bones laughed. “That’s obvious. You’re gonna be our sergeant t at arms.”

Behind them, the Road Dogs sitting at the bar, headed, for the door. One of them glanced over at the five bikers sitting in a dark corner by themselves, taking in the patch.

“We may have trouble,” Big Foot said.

Bones glanced over his shoulder at the Road Dogs heading for the front door. “Don’t worry about them. We’ll deal with them old boys when the time comes,” he said.

“What about meetings?” Snake Eyes asked.

“I figured we’d meet here, on the first Friday of every month at around six-thirty in the evening. Tom says that we can use the room in the back. This is going to be our official clubhouse,” Bones said.

“Old Tom O’ Sullivan is a good old boy,” Big Foot said.

“What about prospects?” Two Bit asked.

“Start putting your feelers out for anyone who would like to join the club. I thought we’d take a ride out to Tombstone in a couple of weeks. That will be our first official run as a club,” Bones said.

“Tombstone. Sweet. I love Tombstone,” Spades said.

Finished with business, they did what most bikers would do in a situation like that: they partied.

***

Mr. Big and Pony Boy, two newly patched members of the Road Dogs hurried into the High Noon Saloon. Noticing Two Belts and Little Mike at the bar, they motioned to the back room where they held church. Little Mike and Two Belts picked up their beers and followed them into the meeting room.

“What’s got you two all worked up?” Little Mike said.

“We were over at O’ Sullivan’s place about a half-hour ago with Beer Belly,” Mr. Big said. “There were some guys over there holding a meeting. They’re trying to start another MC here in town. They’re calling themselves the Sidewinders. They’ve got their patches on the back of their vests and everything. The patch is yellow with a picture of a snake. The top rocker says sidewinders, with MC next to the patch.”

“Did their patch have a bottom rocker?” Two Belts asked.

“No,” Pony Boy said.

Little Mike sighed. “I’m surprised they didn’t want to have a face-to-face with us first.”

“I reckon they’ll have one whether they want to or not. We need to go over some things with those old boys, if they going to start another MC in this town,” Two Belts said.

“Them SOBs are diskin’ us!” Mr. Big said.

“Let’s not go off half-cocked. It looks like they’re not trying to claim territory. They don’t understand the protocol. If we see them out on the road, we’ll talk with them,” Little Mike said.

Back at the bar, Little Mike and Two belts sat down for another beer. Mr. Big and Pony Boy played a game of pool.

“What do you think about these guys starting another club?” Two Belts asked.

Little Mike took a pull from his beer. “It’s not those guys that I’m worried about. It’s this new blood we have in the club that worries me. Ever since we lost our bros up by Sturgis, things haven’t been the same. These new guys are a bunch of hotheads.”

“Church this Friday should be interesting. Especially when they hear that you’re stepping down as pres,” Two Belts said.

“Yeah, I have a feeling these new guys are going to try some kind of end run. That Mr. Big is getting a bit too big for his britches,” Little Mike said.

“We need to take him down a notch or two,” Two Belts said, glancing over at the two bros playing pool.

***

The next morning Little Mike and the rest of the Road Dogs rode down Main Street. They headed to Denny’s for a bite to eat when they saw five bikers wearing the Sidewinders MC patch on their backs. Little Mike pulled up next to Bones on the left side while the rest of the Road Dogs pulled in behind them.

“Pullover. We need to talk,” Little Mike said.

“Talk about what?” Bones said.

“Let’s kick some ass!” Mr. Big yelled.

Little Mike whirled his head around. “Shut up Big!” He turned back to the Sidewinders. “Pull over into the Chevron parking lot. We need to talk about this club you’re starting.”

The Sidewinders pulled into the Chevron parking lot and the Road Dogs followed.

Bones and the rest of the Sidewinders parked their motorcycles. The Road Dogs parked theirs. They headed over to where the Sidewinders were climbing off their motorcycles. The newer members of the Road Dogs stood with their arms crossed and scowls on their faces. Little Mike gave Bones a friendly smile and stuck out his hand. “They call me Little Mike.”

Bones shook his hand. “What? Are you gonna try and tell us we can’t start another motorcycle club in this town?”

Little Mike shook his head. “No. There are some things I’d like to go over with you.”

“What kind of things?” Bones asked.

“Protocols and such. Why don’t you guys come out to the High Noon Saloon tomorrow night?” Little Mike said.

“Why don’t you bring your crew over to O’Sullivan’s. We’re having a party on Thursday night. It’s kind of an official dedication for the new clubhouse. Tom is keeping the general public out for that night. It’s gonna be a private party.”

“Sure, we’ll be there,” Little Mike said.

Two Belts nodded at Big Foot. “You’re almost as big as me.”

“A little bigger,” Big Foot said.

“Be ready to get your drink on, Thursday night,” Two Belts said and headed to his bike. The Road Dogs rolled out of the parking lot and roared down the street to Denny’s.

***

Thursday Evening, the Road Dogs rolled down Main Street and pulled into O’ Sullivan’s Place at six. They parked their motorcycles up next to the building. Little Mike and Two Belts pushed open the front door. They sauntered inside and the rest of the Road Dogs followed. Pausing to let his eyes grow accustomed to the pale light, Little Mike glanced about the barroom. Bones stood up and motioned him over to a table across the room where he sat with his crew. The Sidewinders stood up, there were handshakes all around and then they sat down.

“Before we start this, let me buy, the drinks,” Bones said.

“I never turn down a free drink,” Two Belts said.

They shot the shit for a few minutes waiting for the drinks. The waitress stepped up, wearing a t-shirt cut low in the front, and set their drinks down on the table.

“Thank you darlin’,” Bones said and then paid for the drinks giving her a big tip. “What are these things you want to go over?” Bones asked when the waitress left.

“First of all, if you guys plan on selling speed or any other type of hard drugs in this town, we’ll shut you down. While we’re here, there will be no crystal meth in this town,” Little Mike said.

“We’re a family club. We don’t do drugs and we don’t sell drugs,” Bones said.

“Also, you’ll need to make an appearance at the commission of clubs meeting,” Two Belts said.

Bone’s sighed. “I don’t think that they have the right to tell us whether we can have our, own club,” Bones said.

“Yeah, but if you don’t want trouble with the other clubs you need to get backing from the commission,” Two Belts said.

“If you decide to present your patch, we’ll sponsor you,” Little Mike said.

“Okay. I don’t like it, but we’ll do it. Anything else?” Bones asked.

“We should support each other’s events, such as poker runs and things like that,” Little Mike said.

“I agree. We’re having a run coming up to Tombstone. You guys should come,” Bones said. “Anything else?”

“No that about covers it,” Little Mike said.

Two Belts glanced over at Big Foot. “Okay, big guy. Let’s see who can drink who under the table,” he said. The band cranked up, and several women climbed onto the bar, took off their tops, and danced topless.

“Now we’re talkin’,” Big Foot said. They climbed out of their seats and headed to the bar.

Thirty minutes later, all hell broke loose. A beer bottle hit the floor, someone cursed and the fight was on. Little Mike looked up. He saw Mr. Big and Pony Boy slamming their fists into the face of two of the Sidewinder’s new prospects.

“Damn that Mr. Big! We can’t take him anywhere without him getting into shit,” Little Mike said jumping to his feet.

“Yeah, and Pony Boy’s always right there with him,” Two Belts said.

The officers of the Sidewinders jumped up, along with the officers of the Road Dogs. They rushed over to stop the fight. They pulled Mr. Big and Pony Boy off the prospects. Battered and bleeding, the combatants stood glaring at each other.

“That’s it. The party’s over for you two. Let’s ride,” Little Mike said. Five minutes later, the Road Dogs climbed onto their motorcycles and hit the highway. They roared out of town heading toward the High Noon Saloon.

***

Hey Bro this is Cave Man. Trouble was brewing once more with the bros down on Earth. The powers that be in Biker Heaven decided to send me down there so I could sort things out. I decided to take Chico and Bone Crusher with me. We touched down on the highway about a hundred fifty miles west of Harlem Springs Arizona. When I get the chance to come back down to Earth, I like to get in some time on the road in a mortal body. There’s nothing like the feel of the wind in your face and your hair while you’re riding a motorcycle.

Thunder clapped and lightning flashed when we touched down. Our spirit bikes changed to older Harley Davidson motorcycles. We roared past the old oak tree that I plowed into back in 68 and motored on down the road. Five miles outside of Harlem Springs, I braked and pulled over to the side of the road in front of the High Noon Saloon. Chico pulled up next to me.

“Why didn’t you pull into the parking lot?” Chico asked.

“The bros are in there holding church. We’ll need to go incognito for a little bit. This should give you a chance to use some of those powers that you get when you cross over,” I said.

Chico grinned. “This ought to be fun.”

Bone Crusher nodded. “Let’s do it.”

We dematerialized and rolled into the gravel parking lot of the High Noon Saloon.

Inside the back room of the High Noon, the bros gathered around the table. A gavel sat on the table in front of Little Mike. “We have a few things we need to discuss. First of all, Mr. Big, you and Pony Boy were out of line over there at O’ Sullivan’s Place.”

“What? Those bastards started it. I don’t know why you don’t run them out of town,” Mr. Big said. Pony Boy nodded in agreement.

“You were out of line. We were their guests,” Two Belts said.

They argued the matter and went over some other issues for a while.

“Does anyone have anything they need to bring up?” Little Mike asked.

“Yeah, what’s with this policy of not selling dope? If we cooked speed or sold some weed, we could make a lot of money for the club,” Pony Boy said. Mr. Big nodded.

“That won’t happen as long as I’m part of this club,” Little Mike said.

“I’ll have no part of that either,” Two Belts said.

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Road Kill, who was sitting at the end of the table and hadn’t said much so far, said.

“I know that some of you like to smoke a little weed now and then, but we’re not drug dealers. Anyone who uses manufactures or sells any hard drugs will have his patch pulled,” Little Mike said. “Any questions about that?” Mr. Big and Pony Boy gave him a hard look but didn’t respond. “Good now there’s another matter. I am going to step down as president. I nominate Two Belts to take my place.”

Two Belts sighed. “I make a better Sergeant of Arms, but I’ll serve if you have to step down.”

“I nominate Mr. Big,” Pony Boy said.

Pandemonium filled the meeting room.

“Let’s put it to a vote,” a bro named Tommy Boy said.

Little Mike nodded. “All in favor of Two Belts being pres hold up your hands.” Half of the members present raised their hands. Little Mike counted the hands. “All those in favor of Mr. Big being our new pres, raise your hands.” The rest of the patched members, mostly the younger newer members, raised their hands. Little Mike counted the votes. “It’s a tie. In case of a tie, the sitting president holds the tie-breaking vote. I-”

It was right about then that Chico, Bone Crusher, and I entered the room. You could have heard a pin drop, and all eyes turned to the door when it opened, seemingly on its own. Chico, Bone Crusher, and I stepped into the room. All though unseen, the sound of our footfalls echoed throughout the room.

“Who are these guys?” Chico asked motioning to Mr. Big and Pony Boy.

“A couple of dudes they picked up after you guys passed. I don’t know why they patched ‘em,” I said. We stepped up to the table standing behind the bros.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Chico asked.

“It’s time for you to use some of those powers we talked about after you crossed over,” I said. “These bros have an important decision on the table. Whoever is the next pres, will lead the club in his, own way. We don’t want these bros heading down the wrong road.”

Chico glanced over to where Road Kill sat at the end of the table and grinned. “Road Kill. He’s a solid brother and wouldn’t steer the club wrong. Watch this.” Reaching down, he put his hand next to the gavel. Closing his eyes to focus, he moved the gavel down the table until it sat in front of Road Kill. Road Kill’s eyes widened.

Bone Crusher laughed. “Those old boys look like they about shit themselves.”

“All righty, then. It appears that some of our fallen brothers are present and it is obvious who they want to hold the gavel. I nominate, Road Kill as president,” Little Mike said.

“I second it,” Two Belts said.

“Let’s vote,” Tommy Boy said. The bros sat at the table, their eyes wide, and cast their vote. This time it was unanimous in favor of Road Kill as president. Road Kill reached out and touched the gavel. When he did his eyes widened even wider still.

“Chico, that dude Cave Man and another guy that I don’t know. They’re here man. Standing right behind you Little Mike,” Road Kill said.

Little Mike and Two Belts whirled around. The other bros glanced behind their backs and around the room, but nobody but Road Kill saw us. Little Mike let out a nervous laugh. “I guess they’re here for church. You know you guys are always welcome here.”

“They want us to continue our business,” Road Kill said. “Since I am the new pres, Tommy Boy, I want you to be my VP. Little Mike, I know you were happy riding in back, so you’ll continue as our tail gunner. Two Belts, you’re the biggest SOB in the chapter so you’ll stay on as our sergeant of arms.” Chico glanced at a scruffy guy leaning back in his chair with his back against the wall. “Scruffy, I want you as road captain. Road Kill nodded to a dark-complexioned guy with pork chop sideburns. “Bad Bob, you’ve got the most book learning of us all, so I want you to serve as our secretary and treasurer,” he said. Road Kill turned to Pony Boy and Mr. Big. “I’m putting you two on notice. You cause any more trouble and you’re out,” he said and then banged the gavel. Angry looks crossed their faces. The sound of motorcycles pulling up outside filtered into the room. A prospect stuck his head in the door.

“Hey, you guys we have trouble. The Sidewinders just pulled into the parking lot,” the prospect said.

“Okay, everyone, stay cool. Tell them we’ll be right there.” Everyone else filed out of the room. Road Kill paused looking at me and said, “Dude I almost shit when I saw you guys standing there. What are you doing here?”

“The club’s in trouble bro. You needed some guidance,” I said.

“Bro you did, good. You’ve got solid leadership sitting at the table now,” Chico said. “You’ll make a good pres.”

“I’ll never fill your shoes,” Road Kill said.

“You’ll follow your, own path. You’re the right man for the job,” Chico said.

Nodding to Bone Crusher, Road Kill said, “Who’s this guy? I know you Chico and I’ve seen Cave Man’s picture in the Book of The Dead, but I’ve never seen him before.”

Bone Crusher stuck out his hand. “The name’s Bone Crusher.” They shook.

“It’s good to meet you. You don’t feel like no ghost.”

“I used to ride with another club, back when I was alive. I wasn’t much back then, but after you die you’ve got a lot of time to think. If it weren’t for Cave Man here, I would have been burning in the fires of hell by now.”

“Past is past. Let it die,” I said. “You’re a righteous dude now.”

“It sounds like the natives are getting restless outside. Let’s go see what these Sidewinders want,” Road Kill said and then headed to the door.

Outside, Mr. Big and Pony Boy squared off with the same two prospects that they had fought with the night before. They were starting to get loud and when one of the prospects stepped up to Pony Boy and Pony Boy pushed him.

“Hey! That’ll be enough of that!” Road Kill yelled. He stepped between the Sidewinders and the rest of the Road Dogs. Little Mike and Road Kill turned to face the Sidewinders.

“I’m sorry for these two assholes. We can’t take them anywhere without them causing trouble,” Road Kill said.

A confused look crossed Bones’ face. “I thought you were in charge,” he said to Little Mike.

“We held church. I stepped down as pres. This is Road Kill. He’s our new president,” Little Mike said.

“Pleased to meet you. They call me Bones,” Bones said and they shook hands.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Road Kill said.

“Well, shit happens. Our guys want satisfaction. They want to settle things.”

“Now we’re talkin’. We’ll meet you any place, any time!” Pony Boy yelled.

“Shut up! Pony Boy!” Road Kill yelled. “It doesn’t have to be this way. We’ve got more guys than you. You’ve only got ten guys in your club,” Road Kill said.

“We’ll pick out our ten best fighters!” Mr. Big interrupted. “If we win, you guys leave town! If we lose, you stay and we leave you alone!”

“Shut up Big!” Road Kill yelled. “Or you and Pony Boy will be the only ones leaving!”

“No, actually, that’ll work,” Bones said.

Road Kill sighed. “Where do you want to do this thing?” Road Kill asked.

Bones shrugged.

“We could always do it out at the Punch Bowl,” Little Mike said.

“Great. Back to the Devil’s Punch Bowl. Sometimes you bros here on Earth are more trouble than you’re worth,” I said. Chico and Bone Crusher nodded in agreement.

“Tell me about it,” Road Kill said.

Bones looked up and his eyes widened. “Who’s he talkin’ to?” he said to Little Mike.

“Oh, forget about it. Do you guys know where the Devil’s Punch Bowl is?”

“Yeah, it’s that dry lake bed east of town,” Bones said.

“We’ll meet you out there at noon on Saturday,” Little Mike said.

***

The Road Dogs rolled out to the Devil’s Punch Bowl at eleven-thirty Saturday afternoon. Chico, Bone Crusher, and I followed along behind them on our spirit bikes. The bros parked the scooters in the middle of the dry lake bed. They popped the tops on some beers, waiting for the Sidewinders to show.

Road Kill saw a group of motorcycles heading toward them from the other side of the lake bed. “Here they are. Right on time,” Road Kill said.

“I didn’t think the chicken shit bastards would show,” Mr. Big said.

“Shut up Big. We wouldn’t have to be out here in the hot sun if you and Pony Boy would learn how to behave,” Road Kill said.

“You got that right,” Little Mike said.

“You need to keep control of this,” I said to Road Kill.

“I know. This is going to be one big fistfight. No weapons,” Road Kill said.

The rest of the bros gave him some weird looks, thinking that he was talkin’ to himself. The Sidewinders pulled up and parked their scooters. They headed over to where the Road Dogs gathered. Bones squared off facing Road Kill.

“Before we start this thing, I want to lay down some rules. This is going to be an old-fashioned fistfight. No weapons. When a dude’s had enough, he quits. If you’ve had enough, stay down or you’re fair game. We continue until only one man is standing,” Road Kill said.

“That’s fine, but I’m calling you out. Two of our prospects want a piece of those two loudmouths that caused the trouble at O’ Sullivan’s Place,” Bones said.

“That’s fair enough, but I don’t, have a beef with you,” Road Kill said.

“I got no problem with you either, but a president should fight for the honor of his club.”

“Pony Boy and Mr. Big, step up,” Road Kill said and then picked out seven more guys. As one man, they stepped up to meet the Sidewinders. Road Kill raised his fist, nodded at Bones, and said, “Let’s rumble.”

The two groups of bikers moved toward each other and the fists started flying. For the next twenty minutes, the sound of fists slapping bone echoed across the dry lake bed. Mr. Big and Pony Boy were the first two Road Dogs to fall. The two prospects that they had attacked at O’ Sullivan’s Place beat them down to the ground. They turned to the nearest Road Dog in the fight and continued the battle.

“Them Sidewinders can fight,” I said to Chico. We were standing next to Little Mike.

“Yeah they can,” Little Mike said, hearing my voice. He glanced around, but couldn’t tell where the voice came from. “Cave Man, I wish you’d either show yourself or shut the hell up. That kind of shit creeps me out,” he said.

Chico and I both laughed. The sound of our laughter whispered past Little Mike’s ear.

“These Sidewinders don’t seem like a bad crew,” Bone Crusher said.

“No, they’re some good dudes,” I said.

The battle turned in the Road Dogs’ favor. One by one, the Sidewinders began to fall as the Road Dogs in the fight hammered them with blow after blow. Finally, the last two men standing were Road Kill and Bones. Road Kill hammered Bones with a hard right that knocked him to his knees. He followed that with a left hook and hard right-hand fist that knocked him over backward.

“You’re done. Let’s end this,” Road Kill said, offering Bones his hand.

“We’ll leave our vests here and ride out,” Bones said.

Chico, Bone Crusher, and I stepped up next to Road Kill. “You know, Harlem Springs is big enough for two motorcycle clubs,” I said.

Road Kill looked me in the eye and nodded. “You’re right. It is.” Road Kill turned back to Bones. “No one’s taking off their vests but those two,” he said pointing at Mr. Big and Pony Boy.

“You know, you seem like a stand-up guy, but this talking to yourself thing you got going on is weird,” Bones said.

“Why don’t you guys come over to the clubhouse and I’ll explain it to you. You won’t believe it,” Road Kill said.

“Yeah, I could use a couple of beers. You felt like you hand a lead pipe or a roll of quarters in your fist,” Bones said.

“No only some old bony knuckles.” Bones stuck out his hand and Road Kill grabbed him up in a bear hug. Finished with that, Road Kill said, “Two Belts, Little Mike, grab Mr. Big and Pony Boy. I want their vests.” Motioning to a Road Dog prospect, he said, “Build a fire. We have some tattoos to burn off.”

“What about their scooters?” Two Belts asked.

“We’ll let them keep their bikes”

The Road Dogs and the Sidewinders gathered around to watch the show. The sound of Mr. Big and Pony Boy screaming, along with the stench of burning flesh filled the air.

The excitement was over, the two motorcycle clubs headed back to their motorcycles.

“Are we still invited to this Tombstone run?” Road Kill asked.

“Hell yeah,” Bones said. “We’ll head out about eight in the morning next Saturday.”

The two motorcycle clubs rolled out heading to the Road Dogs clubhouse. Road Kill lingered behind.

“You did, good. You’ll make a good president,” I said.

“From what I hear, you’ll be even better than me,” Chico said.

“That’s going to be hard. You were one of the best,” Road Kill said. He turned to Bone Crusher. “I never knew you when you were alive, but it’s been a pleasure to meet you, even though you are, what a ghost?”

“Something like that,” Bone Crusher said and they shook hands.

Road Kill climbed onto his scooter and headed across the lake bed. We followed along behind on our spirit bikes. One week later, we touched down on a two-lane highway, southeast of Tucson. We followed along behind the Road Dogs and the Sidewinders. They rolled down the highway heading toward the town too tough to die.

***

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For your reading pleasure.

The Ride Home

When we rolled up to the clubhouse in Biker Heaven, the bros were outside to greet us. Bone Crusher climbed off his scooter and Blowout stepped up to him.

“Thanks, bro, for coming after me,” he said.

“Forget about it, bro. I was stuck on the Lost Highway and Cave Man risked everything to come for me. I wanted to return the favor,” Bone Crusher said.

“It seemed like you guys were gone forever,” Chico said. “How’d things go?”

“We lost Cowboy. Once his energy solidifies he’ll be back,” I said. “How’s the reunion going?”

“We’re having a hell of a good time, but I’m worried about the bros on Earth. What happened to them after the crash?”

“Time is different up here. They’re still at Sturgis. We’ll party here for a little while longer and then head down there. We’ve got some funerals to go to,” I said.

“You mean I get to go to my, own funeral?” Chico asked.

“Yeah, bro. Everyone does,” I said.

We entered the clubhouse and bellied up to the bar as the Big Bopper came out on stage and began to play. Buddy Holley came out onto the stage and joined him. I saw Johnny Cash waiting in the wings. Pulling a flask out of my vest pocket, I took a shot and handed the flask to Chico. He took a shot. Carol joined the women dancing on top of the bar.

“Damn that’s some good shit,” Chico said.

“You guys need some of the good stuff,” Little Danny Boy said and took a bottle of, the green label Jack from the bar.

“You know I love my Old Number 7, but you’re right. Green Label goes down smooth,” I said.

“It beats the shit out of any whiskey I’ve ever had on Earth,” Chico said.

“Yeah, old Mr. Daniels has had a long time to perfect his brew up here,” I said.

Once the concert wound down, I glanced at Little Danny Boy and said, “Are you ready to roll?”

“Yeah, we’ve got some bros back on Earth that need our help,” he said.

I slapped Chico on the back and said, “Let’s hit the saddle. You only thought you missed the Black Hills Rally at Sturgis. Only, on this run, you’ll be incognito.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chico asked.

“You’re dead bro. Live people on Earth won’t be able to see you,” I said.

We crossed the bar room, stepped outside, and climbed onto our spirit bikes. Firing up the machines, we rolled down the King’s Highway heading to a rendezvous with some bros back on Earth.

***

We touched down on the main drag running through Rapid City South Dakota. Little Danny Boy led us down the street, took a few turns, and then we pulled into the hospital parking lot. We parked our spirit bikes near the main entrance to the emergency room. I noticed six motorcycles parked near the curb. Several ambulances pulled in without their lights and sirens. The attendants began to unload the bodies. We stood and watched them wheel the remains of our bros into the hospital.

“Now that’s plain weird. My body is in one of those bags,” Chico said.

“Who are those guys by the door?” Lead Belly asked.

I glanced up noticing a group of little demons in their black robes. “Don’t mind those guys. They’re on the hunt for souls. Chico, you guys need to stay away from them though. Let the Halo Riders deal with them. You’re not safe until your body is under the ground. We’ll put you guys in the middle of us away from those little bastards,” I said and we headed toward the door. A chilly wind blew leaves across the parking lot.

When we reached the front door, we pulled our gats and opened up on the Devil’s misfits. Balls of blue lightning and red laser blast filled the air, but no one else saw it. When the evil little demons took a hit they would explode in a blinding flash. Once we had the entranceway cleared, we passed through a set of glass doors.

“That was cool,” Chico said when we passed through the glass.

“Yeah, it’s kind of cool when you can go through a door without having to wait for it to open,” I said.

I saw a group of bikers standing near the rear of the building. A couple leaned up against the wall and they all had sorrowful looks on their faces. Among the older ones, the bro named Little Mike was talking on a cell phone. “There they are,” I said and headed over. Little Mike looked up and looked right at me. For a minute his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “Damn. I think- he saw me,” I said.

Little Mike looked down at the floor and then looked back up. He shook his head, put his phone away, and then went back to talking with the prospects.

“What?” one of them asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Little Mike let out a nervous laugh. “Maybe I did. I called the Baptist church in Harlem Springs, plus I contacted all the families. Pastor Bill is trying to raise the money to bring the bodies home.”

We headed over to join our brothers, but of course, they couldn’t see us. “Be at peace, my brother,” I said laying a hand on Little Mike’s shoulder. I saw him shudder. The Halo Riders and the bros who died in the crash moved among the remnant of the Road Dogs from the Harlem Springs. They tried to offer comfort, even though they couldn’t see us. I looked up as a gray-headed doctor wearing a green lab coat stepped up.

“Gentlemen, I am Doctor Gates. I am so sorry for your loss. I have made contact with the local funeral home. They will move the bodies over there. Have you contacted the relatives of the departed?”

“I finished with that,” Little Mike said.

“If you would, our admittance staff needs the names of all the deceased. Also, we have a minister on duty at the chapel if you would care to take part in any grief counseling.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Little Mike said.

I noticed the Grim Reaper leaning against the wall in a dark corner looking out from under his hood. I stoked the butt of my gat riding underneath my vest. “Not this time old-timer. These, don’t belong to you,” I said.

“That’s him. I kept seeing that dude in my rearview for the entire trip up from Harlem Springs,” Chico said.

“That’s old death himself: The Grim Reaper. He was after your souls. That’s why we need you guys to stay close until we get you planted good and proper,” I said.

We followed the bros up to the admittance desk. A black woman in a white nurse’s uniform handed Little Mike a stack of papers. “I am so sorry for what happened to your friends. If you’ll fill out these forms, you can be on your way. Once the bodies are at the funeral home, Mr. Chambers from Chambers Funeral Home will give you a call.”

Little Mike took the papers from the nurse and started filling them out. Finished with that, he turned to the rest of the Harlem Springs chapter. They gathered around him and he said, “Let’s roll on out to the Bulldog Campground. This has been a long fuckin’ day.”

Little Mike led his somber crew right through us heading for the exit.

“My heart bleeds for them,” Chico said.

“I know. It’s a hard thing when you lose a brother,” I said.

“A brother hell. They almost lost the entire chapter. Them bros are hurting,” Lead Belly said.

“I know. We’ll follow ‘em over to the campground,” I said.

“What happens to the Road Dogs now?” Chico asked.

I put my arm around Chico’s shoulder. “We’ll survive this Bro. They’ll rebuild,” I said. We headed for the door, following the bros to the parking lot. Outside, we had another fight with the little demons at the door. Little Mike and the rest of the Road Dogs that were still alive didn’t notice. They climbed on their scooters. We climbed on our spirit bikes and followed them to the interstate. They headed west on interstate 80 and we followed the bros back toward Sturgis. They pulled off the interstate and rolled into the Bulldog Campground after midnight.

Little Mike and the two remaining patched members sat down in a couple of folding chairs. They had a beer, while the prospects set up camp. I reached down into the ice chest and pulled out a beer. When the bottle touched my hand, it disappeared from the material world. I took out another and passed the beers out to the rest of the brothers from the other side.

“You think they’ll notice the missing beer?” Chico asked.

“No. They’re too depressed. They’ll think that they drank it. Usually, I get a kick out of messing with the bros like this when they can’t see me. Right now they need our love and support. Even if they can’t see us, we’re still here for them.”

“We should pack up and head home. Sturgis will never be the same for me,” a big heavy-set biker named Two Belts said. He was one of the bros riding in the chase truck.

“That’s not right. They need to stay here for a while and party,” Chico said.

Chico stepped over to Little Mike and laid a hand on his shoulder. A chill shot down Little Mike’s spine. Chico bent down and whispered in his ear.

“No, we have to wait until we get the money to take the bodies home. That will take a while. We need to party and try to put this behind us. I know that Chico and the rest of the bros wouldn’t want us to sit around here cryin’. He’d want us to have fun. We’re at Sturgis for the Black Hills Rally. We’ll party for a few days and then take our brothers home and bury them.”

“You’re the senior patched member. I guess that means you’re our new president,” a wiry little guy with a scraggly goatee that they called Road Kill said.

“Yeah, temporarily. After we get our brothers in the ground, we’ll sit down at the table and hold church,” Little Mike said.

After the prospects finished setting up camp, one of them opened up the ice chest and said, “Damn. Where’d all the beer go?”

“There’s another ice chest filled with beer in the back of my truck,” Two Belts said.

The prospect went to the truck and brought back another ice chest. Another prospect started a campfire. Once he had the campfire going, the prospects passed out the beers to those sitting around the fire. Two Belts leaned forward holding his hands out to the warm fire. A chilly breeze blew across the land. Little Mike held up his bottle. “A toast to our fallen brothers.”

While the prospects were passing out the beer, I managed to snag a few for those of us on the other side of the graveyard.

“I’ll drink to that,” I said.

“You know, I almost feel like they’re here with us now, bro,” Two Belt said, leaning back.

Little Mike nodded. “I know what you mean. Back there at the hospital, for a second there, I almost thought I saw Cave Man. We were tight back in the day.”

“They were there, in spirit. Road Dogs in life and Road Dogs in death,” Road Kill said. The remnant of the Harlem Springs chapter finished their beer. Those of us, wearing the Halo patch, and the ones that had recently crossed over, moved among the remnant. We gave what comfort that we could. The remaining members of the Road Dogs MC drank and talked around the campfire until three AM. They staggered off to their tents as a full moon looked down over the Bull Dog campground. The smell of wood smoke from the dying fires drifted with the wind. We formed a perimeter around our sleeping bros. We watched the evil demonic eyes peering out of the darkness

The Road Dogs began to stir around noon. The prospects rekindled the fire, put a coffee pot on to boil, scrambled up some eggs, and fried bacon.

“I feel like warmed over shit,” Little Mike said.

“This will give your day a kick in the ass,” one of the prospects said handing him a coffee cup.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” Two Belts asked.

“I thought we’d roll into Sturgis and check out the vendors. Tonight we’ll party at the Broken Spoke,” Little Mike said.

After everyone ate their fill, the Road Dogs climbed onto their scooters. They hit the interstate heading into Sturgis. We rolled along behind them. Chico, and the rest of the bros that died on the freeway, rode behind the bros that were still alive. The Halo riders followed along behind guarding their back. They were still vulnerable. I didn’t want any of those evil little shits in the black robes trying to drag their souls down to hell. We already had to make one trip to Biker Hell and I didn’t feel like going there again.

Little Mike pulled off onto Main Street in Sturgis. He motored down the main drag and turned onto Lazelle Street. We motored along behind them. Little Mike found a spot on a side street to park their motorcycles, and we parked our spirit bikes beside them. Little Mike and the remaining Road Dogs climbed off their scooters. They strolled down the street heading to Lazelle St. where all the action was taking place. We strolled along behind them.

Two young women strutted past us wearing nothing but thongs on their bottoms and no tops. One had a tiger airbrushed across her breasts and another had a green Cobra painted on her chest. Chico grinned. “I love Sturgis,” he said. The bros ahead of us hooted and hollered at the women.

“I do too,” I said. “There ain’t no better place except, Biker Heaven”.

Little Mike glanced back over his shoulder.

“What?” Two Belts asked.

“I don’t know man. I got a weird feeling. I almost feel like someone is following us,” Little Mike said.

“Dude, we’re at Sturgis. There are thousands of people on the street.”

“I know man. Ever since the hospital I’ve been feeling strange,” Two Belts said.

“Seeing your brothers go down on the highway will do that to you.”

“Did you hear that?” I said to Little Danny Boy.

Little Danny Boy shrugged. “Some people are more in tune with the spirit world than others.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I said. I noticed a gray-headed biker stumbling down the road with his head down. He looked like a drug addict. An evil-looking demon that looked like a troll clung to his back. I pulled my sheath knife and drove the blade into the top of the demon’s head. It disappeared in a flash of light and a puff of smoke. The biker smiled and held his head up.

“Good work,” Little Danny Boy said.

“Thanks,” I said. We followed the bros around town, checking out the vendors for the rest of the day. Then we followed them down to the Broken Spoke Saloon that evening. The bros partied at the Broken Spoke until almost two in the morning. All though they couldn’t see us, we partied right along with them. I noticed a couple of restless spirits in the bar. They were a couple of bikers that had died a few years earlier in a motorcycle crash on their way to Sturgis. Somehow, they didn’t realize they were dead. I ambled up to them. “Hey, brother. Your time here is through,” I said.

They both looked at me and a scared look crossed their faces.

“What do you mean?” one of them asked.

“Both of you died on the road two years ago. There’s a better place. It’s called Biker Heaven. You’ll love it there.”

“Biker Heaven?” the other guy said.

“Yeah, look,” I said raising my hand toward the ceiling. A portal opened and a bright beam of white light shot down from the opening. The live people inside the bar couldn’t see it. The two restless spirits looked up and then looked back at me. A big grin spread across their faces. “Go to the light, brothers.”

Their bodies dematerialized changing into bluish-green beams of pure energy. Their essence rose, up to the ceiling, passed through the portal and the portal closed.

“That was cool,” Chico said.

We followed Little Mike and the bros back to their scooters. We motored along behind them on our spirit bikes while they headed back to the Bull Dog campground. We rumbled through the night. I noticed evil red eyes peering at us from a stand of trees near the side of the interstate. My hand stroked the butt of my gat when we pulled off the interstate and rolled into the campground for the night. Once again, the Halo riders stood sentry over the sleeping bikers. The stars shined down on us, covering the land like a warm blanket.

***

The following morning, the bros crawled out of their tents around ten-thirty. The prospects kindled a fire, made coffee, and cooked a quick breakfast. Those of us, no longer in our physical bodies gathered around, waiting for them to get their ass in gear. Finished with their breakfast, they climbed onto their scooters and hit the interstate. We followed along behind on our spirit bikes. They headed west on interstate 90, and then took a two-lane highway south to Deadwood. The highway snaked its way down into the Deadwood Gorge. It cut through the Black Hills until reaching the town itself. Deadwood was a wild, west town from back in the day, but it was now a tourist trap. People still found gold in the Black Hills. It came from the pockets of the bikers and other tourists that visited the casinos.

We followed the bros up the boulevard flanking the newly departed. Now and then we saw a few evil demons lingering in the doorways. They gave us hard looks, looking at Chico and the ones who died in the motorcycle crash.

“Why are they looking at us like that?” Chico asked.

“They want your souls,” I said. The ghosts of Wild Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane passed by. I gave them a nod. “When some people die, they are so attached to this world, that there’s nothing you can do to get them to cross over.”

After spending some time in Deadwood, the bros rolled down the highway to Mount Rushmore. Out in the woods, I heard an evil growl and saw a flash of something moving through the trees. In the right-hand lane, a woman ahead of the bros drove a three-wheeler. One of the bros pulled out and passed her. The others followed. The last rider pulled out to pass and a custom chopper came around the curve coming at the bro head-on. I goosed the throttle on my spirit bike and put myself between the bro and the dude coming at him on the chopper. When the chopper passed by, I gave his bike a little push. I moved him away from the Road Dog passing the woman on the three-wheeler. They passed each other, separated by inches. They were right next to the woman riding the three-wheeler. I back off as the bro pulled back into the right lane.

From Mount Rushmore, the bros headed down to see the Crazy Horse monument. They strolled through the museum and then stepped outside to view the statute. The ghost of wild Indians milled about with the live people. A biker with a long blond ponytail strolled by. The ghost of a big Indian with a face full of war paint pulled his knife and when through the motions of scalping the man.

I laughed. “Sorry, but that’s against the rules,” I said. “Your spirit knife won’t work on him.” Chico laughed watching the show.

We followed the bros outside and took a look at the massive, unfinished statue.

“When are they going to finish that thing?” Little Mike asked.

“In about 50 years, maybe,” Two Belts said.

I looked up at the statue and my eyes widened. Up, on the mountain, sitting on the statue was the ghost of old Crazy Horse himself.

“Speaking of the Devil, there’s the old war chief himself,” I said.

“Why doesn’t he move on to the happy hunting ground?” Chico asked.

“He’s too attached to the land. The Black Hills are still his and he doesn’t intend to leave.” I waved at the ghost of the old Indian and he waved back.

Finished at The Crazy Horse monument, the bros rode back to the campground and we followed. That night we followed them to the Buffalo Chip campground. We stood next to them watching Z Z Tops rock down the house. The loud music echoed across the campground. While the bros watched the concert, we guarded the souls of the departed. A few of the evil demons in their black robes jumped us in the middle of the concert. I grabbed one, threw him up on stage and he disappeared in a puff of smoke. Another tried to grab Chico. Bone Crusher stabbed him in his fat head, right between his horns, and sent him back to the Devil. They gave it up for a lost cause, and we enjoyed the rest of the concert.

Little Mike’s cell phone rang and he stepped away from the crowd. I listened in on his side of the conversation.

“Thank you, reverend. Tell everyone who donated money thank you too. We’ll head over to Rapid City and pick up the money from Western Union in the morning. Once we pay the bill at the funeral home, we’ll escort the bodies back to Harlem Springs. Thank you pastor and take care,” Little Mike said.

“Who was that?” Two Belts asked.

“That was Pastor Bill back home. He sent the money to the funeral home. We’ll roll out of here as soon as they get the bodies ready,” Little Mike said as Z Z Tops opened up with A Sharp Dressed Man.

***

The bros broke camp the next morning and rolled out heading east to Rapid City. Those of us in spirit form followed along behind them on our spirit bikes. After a quick breakfast at Denny’s, the bros rolled over to Wal-Mart. They picked up the money from Western Union and then headed over to the funeral home. Little Mike and Two Belts went inside and paid the owner for his services. They stepped out to the parking lot a few minutes later and joined Road Kill and the prospects.

“How soon until we’re ready to roll?” Road Kill asked.

“They’re getting the bodies ready to travel now,” Little Mike said. “We should roll out of here by noon.”

They stood in the parking lot conversing for another hour. There we a few laughs and jokes. The people from the funeral home-rolled the first coffin out to the hearse. A somber mood sank over the gathering. A tear tracked down Little Mike’s cheek. The Halo riders kept an eye out for the little demons in the black robes. We moved among the bros laying a hand on a shoulder here and there trying to give some comfort. The newly departed stood, watching their remains roll by in their coffins.

“Don’t worry about it, bro. Those old things are only rotting meat right now. Think of it like an old scooter that you traded in for a new one. You’ll like your spirit body a hell of a lot more than your old bag of bones,” I said to Chico.

“Yeah, I guess. I’m still trying to get used to things,” he said.

The funeral home attendants loaded up the bodies. They closed the rear doors; the drivers climbed behind the wheel and pulled out onto the road. The bros climbed onto their scooters. They followed along behind and the convoy hit the interstate. We took up the rear on our spirit bikes. Chico and the brothers that died in the crash rode in the middle and the Halo riders flanked them. I kept my eyes peeled watching out for the little demons in their black robes as we rolled through the Black Hills. I saw a flash of movement in the woods and saw a set of evil red eyes peering out at us from amongst the trees.

They hit us halfway to the Wyoming state line. The evil little shits came out of the woods on both sides of the road. They stormed onto the highway trying to get at the souls of our departed brothers. I pulled my gat. Little Danny boy pulled his knife and the rest of the Halo Riders surrounded the bros that died in the crash. A little demon jumped at me from the left and I shot him down. While I was dealing with him, another one jumped on my back. Little Danny Boy stabbed the little sucker in the top of his head and he burst into flames. Sonny grabbed one of the little shits by his arms and hurled it into the path of an oncoming car. The little demon exploded when he hit the ground. By the time the battle was over, the convoy was a half-mile down the road.

We caught up with the bros, crossed the Wyoming state line a couple of hours later, and hit Interstate 25 south. That evening, we pulled into a Motel 6 at Cheyenne and stopped for the night.

***

The bros were up early and had a quick breakfast at Denny’s along with the drivers from the funeral home. We parked our spirit bikes outside and the Halo Riders kept watch. We kept the souls of the departed bikers in the middle of us and didn’t let them stray too far.

“What’s got your panties in a bunch?” Chico asked me.

“I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right. I got the feeling that those evil little bastards in the black robes are gonna hit us sometime today,” I said.

“Why? I mean, why do they keep following us?”

“You boys are fair game until your bodies get planted and laying at rest at the cemetery down at Harlem Springs. Until then, those little shits are liable to try anything. We pissed them off when we rode down to Biker Hell and brought back our bros that they took from the road. We upset the order of things and pissed off some people down below. Who knows what the powers that be of the underworld will throw at us,” I said.

Bone Crusher stepped up, taking in the tail end of our conversation. “Are you expecting them to hit us on the road like they did this morning?”

I shrugged. “No, I get the feeling that they’re gonna try something different. We need to keep on our toes.”

Bone Crusher glanced at the front door of Denny’s. The bros from the Harlem Springs chapter that were still alive stepped outside. “What about them?”

“We’ll have to keep an eye on them too. I haven’t seen the Grim Reaper lurking about, but who knows? It would be a hell of a thing if there was another crash going home.”

“We’ll have to make sure nothing like that happens. I’ll be God damned if I let one of the little SOBs in the black robes drag another bro down to hell,” Bone Crusher said. He shivered as Little Mike stepped through him. “That felt weird.”

“I know. I hate when they do that when we are traveling incognito like this.”

“The thing is, when Little Mike passed through me, I felt what he’s feeling right now. I felt the sorrow. These guys are hurting, over what happened on the freeway,” Bone Crusher said.

“I know. The funeral will give them a chance to grieve, and then they’ll hold a party at the clubhouse. After that, they’ll start getting better,” I said.

The bros took a quick cigarette break. They waited for the drivers from the funeral home to finish their breakfast. Ten minutes later, the convoy headed south on Interstate 25. Little Mike and his bros rode behind the hearses and we followed along behind them. The sun beat down on us as we hit the interstate and the sky was blue overhead. Herds of antelope grazed on the prairie, but to the south, storm clouds were gathering. The further south we traveled the worst the weather became. We pulled into Las Vegas New Mexico that evening. The rain beat us like unloved stepchildren.

All though it didn’t bother those of us in spirit form, the bros that were still alive got soaked to the bone. The convoy pulled into a Super 8 motel and the bros rented rooms for the night.

“What’s the plan?” Chico asked while we stood under an awning watching the rain.

“You and the bros that died in the crash will stay inside with the bros that are still alive. The rest of us are going to stand guard out here,” I said.

“Are you expecting trouble?” Bone Crusher asked.

“Yeah, I got a bad feeling. The Devil’s boys are going to pull out all the stops tonight. They’ve got a small window of opportunity. Once these boys get planted properly, their souls will no longer be in jeopardy,” I said.

The bros and the drivers from the funeral home checked into a motel. After putting their things into their room, they crossed the street to a restaurant. The hostess seated them at a large table in a private room off to the side.

“This may sound strange, but a few times I thought I saw some motorcycles behind us,” one of the prospects said.

“Dude. There are thousands of bikes on the road right now, because of the Black Hills Rally in Sturgis,” Two Belts said.

“I know, but this was different. I saw a group of bikers in my rearview and then they disappeared. Some of them look like our bros that died on the highway,” the prospect said.

Little Mike sighed. “I know what you mean bro. Call me weird, but I feel their presence right now. It’s almost like they’re right here beside us.”

I looked at Chico and shrugged. “If they weren’t hurting from losing their brothers, I’d mess with them right now.”

“What would you do?”

“I’d probably, knock over Little Mike’s beer or drink it,” I said.

“That’s right. You can do stuff like that. I remember that time you guys came back to help us when we had that dust-up with the Hell-Raisers at the Devil’s Punch Bowl. We could see you then. Why don’t we let them see us now?” Chico asked.

“We will after you boys get planted. We’ll wave goodbye before we head back to Biker Heaven,” I said.

They finished their dinner and headed back to the motel room. I sent Chico and the bros that died on the road inside with Little Mike and the bros that were still alive. The Halo Riders stood, watching outside.

The bros settled into their rooms. We sent the souls of the departed inside with them and we stood guard around the motel room. The night passed slowly and the rain stopped. The sky cleared up and a full moon looked down on the city of Las Vegas New Mexico. When the Devil’s little imps attacked, they hit us with everything they had. A mob of the little demons in the black robes charged across the road from the shadows and attacked. Hearing a hissing sound, I saw a host of evil demons swooping down on us from the sky. They wore hooded robes and rode on the backs of evil creatures from the depths of hell itself.

The sky overhead looked like the Fourth of July. We fired off bolts of blue-green light with our gats at the demons attacking from the air. Each time we hit one of the evil bastards they would explode in a blinding flash of light. Smoke filled the air. The little shits in the black robes charged across the parking lot. We stood our ground with our backs to the wall. Slashing with our knives and firing our pistols, we fought for the souls of our brothers. The bros inside the motel rooms were none the wiser.

The attack broke off about an hour later. All though we beat the little bastards back, we lost half of our own. Several of my bros that wear the Halo patch took hits from the spears that the little shits hurled at us. When a bro got hit he would explode and disappear from this plane of existence. Eventually, his energy would reform in Biker Heaven, but he would have to rest for a time to regain his energy.

I was leaning back against the wall trying to catch my breath when I heard something growl in the darkness. Looking up, I saw a multitude of evil red eyes in the street. A howl filled the night as the hounds of hell charged down the street toward the motel.

“Oh shit. I hate those smelly bastards,” I said and then pushed away from the wall to meet the new assault.

“Boy, we must have stirred up a hornet’s nest when we rescued those bros from Biker Hell. They won’t give up,” Bone Crusher said.

“Yeah we pissed off the Devil and he wants his due,” Little Danny Boy said.

“He can go shit up a rope,” I said.

The Devil’s four-legged critters resembling a pack of mangy wolves slammed into us. One of the evil creatures knocked Little, Danny boy to the ground and locked onto his throat with his jaws. I grabbed the vile creature by the scruff of his neck and slammed my knife into the top of its head. Both Little Danny Boy and the smelly beast exploded in a blinding flash. Bone Crusher and I stood back to back slashing with our knives. I put a round between the eyes of one of the evil vermin and another one lunged at me from the left.

I swung my blade around and stabbed him in the ear. The evil bastards retreated into the night, but I had a feeling that they weren’t through. Bone Crusher and I sank with our backs against the wall.

“I can’t take much more of this,” Bone Crusher said. We were both huffing and puffing. The hell hounds had whittled our numbers down by half once more.

“We’ve got to hold on,” I said.

“We will,” Bone Crusher said.

“Yeah, the old Devil can send all the mangy dogs left in hell if he wants to. He can come down here himself. We’ll kick his ass back to hell because there ain’t nothing more powerful than a bro with a pure heart,” I said.

They attacked us several more times that night. When the sun came up, Bone Crusher and I were the only Halo Riders left standing.

“It’s kind of ironic, don’t you think. You were the one that killed me and sent me to the great beyond, and here we are fighting back to back like brothers.”

I put my arm around Bone Crusher. “We are brothers. Even though we had a little mix-up when we were mortal, doesn’t mean we aren’t bros. Let’s get Chico and the rest of the crew that crashed on the highway down to Harlem Springs. We need to get them planted before old Slue Foot gets his second wind,” I said. The sun stabbed its warm fingers across the great state of New Mexico.

***

Two days later we gathered at the Baptist church on the outskirts of Harlem Springs Arizona. Coffins filled the front of the church and motorcycles filled the parking lot. Road Dogs from various chapters across the southwest filled the church. The reverend stepped to the platform to perform the eulogy. Chico and the souls that died on the highway stood in the back watching the show.

“Nice crowd,” I said.

“Yeah, there are guys here from clubs across the state,” Chico said.

“Everyone wants to pay their respects.”

“It’s kind of cool, attending your, own funeral.”

“Yeah, everyone does,” I said.

“It is a sad occasion that brings us here today,” Pastor Bill said. “Let us take a moment to reflect on the brothers that we’ve lost.” When he finished his sermon, he opened the floor so that others could speak. When the service was over, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. We followed behind the bros as they escorted the hearses to the graveyard. The preacher said a few more words and then concluded the service. While the workers lowered the bodies into the ground, Bone Crusher and I looked over at a clump of trees. A few of the little smelly shits in the black robes watched us with their beady little eyes.

“Do you think they’ll try anything?”

“No, now that the bodies are at rest, they’ve lost their chance,” I said.

“What now?” Chico asked.

“Now we follow the bros over to the clubhouse. They’re holding a party in your honor.” I said.

Ten minutes later, we rolled into the High Noon Saloon. A band opened up on stage. The prospects tended bar and the bros partied in honor of their fallen brothers. Chico, Lead Belly, Dirty Dan, Bone Crusher, and I bellied up to the bar. Lead belly noticed Janet sitting down, the bar crying. He went over to give her what comfort he could, with him being in the spirit form. He came back a few minutes later. I put my arm around lead Belly’s shoulders. “She’ll be all right bro. The brothers will take care of her.”

“I hope so,” Lead Belly said.

“Enough of this mopping around. Now that the funeral services are over, we can have some fun, before we go,” I said. “Prospect! Get me a Jack and Coke, plus four beers for my friends here!” I yelled at the prospect.

“Keep your shirt on!” He yelled and then mixed my Jack and Coke. He set the Jack and Coke on the bar along with four beers and then glanced up and down the bar. “Okay, who’s the wise guy? Who ordered these drinks?” Someone down the bar motioned to the prospect. He shrugged and headed down the bar. I picked up my Jack and Coke, the tumbler disappearing when it touched my hand, and passed out the beers.

“How’d you do that?” Chico asked.

“It’s something you learn after a while. Once you’re on this side of the graveyard there are lots of things like that, that you can do. All you have to do is focus your energy.”

Down the bar, several women poured ice water over their chests and climbed up on the bar to do a wet t-shirt contest. We settled back to watch the show. About a half-hour later, Little Mike had the prospects line up several glasses of beer on the bar. Little Mike stepped back away from the bar and yelled for everyone to be quiet.

“I had the prospects put these beers on the bar for our fallen brothers,” he said. “I’d like to raise a toast to the brothers we lost on Interstate 80 outside of Rapid City. To our fallen brothers!” he said, lifting his glass. A cheer when up from the crowd as they raised their drinks in a toast.

A grin spread across my face. “They poured those beers in your honor. Why don’t you guys go drink them?” I said.

“Can we?” Chico asked.

“Hell yeah.” Chico along with the souls of the fallen brothers stepped up to the bar grabbed a glass and down the beer. A hush fell over the bar when the bros saw the empty glasses on the bar.

“What the hell?” Two Belts said.

Beside me, Lead Belly and Chico snickered. The bros glanced around, but of course, they couldn’t see us.

“Who drank them beers?” Road Kill asked.

Little Mike sighed. “You know, I’ve felt the presence of our brothers every since we left the hospital in Rapid City. I guess they did. I feel like they’re here with us now. I know they wouldn’t want the party to stop,” Little Mike said, motioning for the band to continue. We partied with the bros for another hour and then I nodded to Chico.

“Time for us to roll. We’ve got another party to attend up in Biker Heaven,” I said to Chico. Bone Crusher and I led the souls of the fallen brothers outside. We climbed on our spirit bikes and pulled onto the highway. Bone Crusher and I led the pack. We parked in the middle of the road. “Concentrate hard. We need to be mortal for a while. I’d like to do about fifty miles before we head back. Whenever I get the chance to come back to Earth, I like to take on my physical form and put my face in the wind for a while.”

“What about them?” Bone Crusher said, motioning to the front porch of the High Noon Saloon.”

I glanced up as Little Mike, Two, Belts, Road Kill and three prospects stepped on the porch.

I grinned. “It’s our chance to say goodbye.”

Our bodies changed, becoming mortal. When the bros saw us, their eyes widened and their jaws dropped. A big grin spread across their faces. We waved, they waved back, I nodded at Little Mike, cranked the throttle and we blasted down the highway.

***

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Problems? Who Me?

Hello, I hope that everyone reading this is having a wonderful day. Before I get into the day’s topic I’d like to draw your attention to the changes I have made to my site. I have added a few pages such as my book pages, my audiobook page, and my sponsored product page. Be sure to check them out before you leave. I am working on my Premium Content Page. Subscribers to this page will gain access to the Miracle Maker ChatBot. The Miracle Maker ChatBot is a ChatBot similer to Chat GPT. It can write code, outline and download an eBook as well as a bunch of other things. You can ask it anything I will offer mothly sucriptions to access the ChatBot for only $20.00 a month, or for a one time fee of $100.00 I will create a ChatBot for you.

So, who has problems besides me? Everyone does I think, but how do you deal with those problems? If you are like me you stress about them a little bit, but I am trying to change the way I think and deal with problems. I am trying to look at problems now as an opportunity to learn and grow. Stressing about things doesn’t change anything or help you solve your problems. I only stress about things for so long and then I say F–k it and quit stressing. What usually happens is that things work themselves out. Let me tell you a story. My wife’s Youcon broke down, then a few days later my truck started acting up. I needed to go to the bank one morning so I went outside to see if my truck would start. It did, so I headed off to my bank, which is about two and a half or maybe three miles from my house. I also forgot to bring my cell phone. After withdrawing some money from the bank, went back to my truck and it wouldn’t start. I let it sit for a while and headed down to a doughnut shop, which is a block away from my bank I bought a cup of coffee and a couple of doughnuts and then walked back to where I left my truck. I climbed behind the wheel, finished my coffee and doughnuts and tried to start the truck. It still wouldn’t start. Then I started thinking about the long walk home, half of which was uphill. Sitting there thinking about it wouln’t get me home, so started walking. As I headed up, Barstow Road, wich is a main street in Barstow Califonia that acends a large hill, I thought to myself that I would stop at each intersection and rest. My feet started to hurt a little bit and I was sweatting, but when I reached each intersection, I kept going. I finally reached the top of Barstow Road and sighed. The rest was down hill. Finally, I arrived back home. I took my dog outside, drank some water and smoked a cigar while I rested for a bit, then I called my insurace copany. I have roadside assistence. After arranging for a tow truck, I rode my Harley back to the bank to meet the tow truck and waited for them to show up. They finally did and towed my truck to the house.

What did I learn from this grand adventure? The first thing I learned was to listen to your inner voice. When I pulled up to the bank my inner voice told me to leave the truck running, but then I thought that the neighborhood was bad and that someone might steal it. The next thing I learned was that I am in better shape than I thought I was. I am sixty-five years old. I don’t go on walks nor am I into running, but I do practice martial arts to stay in shape. I thought that I would be really tired and sore when I got home, but I wasn’t. I was tired and winded, but after taking a breather and drinking some water, I felt fine. I went to my martial arts class that night and enjoyed it. I also thought that I would be really sore in the morning but I wasn’t. The truck is running again and things all worked out. Don’t sell yourself short. You are tougher than you think you are and when you have problems, look at them as an opportunity to learn and grow. Troubles will come, but they will pass.

Now for your reading pleasure

Biker Hell

When we pulled up to the clubhouse at Biker Heaven Chico seemed as if he was in a state of shock.

“I can’t believe this place. I mean the colors, the mountains, and the sky. I’ve never seen anything so vivid or so beautiful before. I’ve heard about the streets of gold, but I didn’t believe it.”

I chuckled and put my arm around his shoulder. “I know bro. It’s impossible to imagine until you finally see it. This place rocks.”

Chico glanced up at the little clubhouse. He took in its rough exterior and its covered wooden boardwalk. “You mean this is it? This little cabin is Biker Heaven?”

I let go with a belly laugh. “Trust me, bro. This place is more than what it appears. It’s a lot bigger on the inside. There are cabins outback to live in, the booze flows free and the women are all loose. They’re all good looking too. You can drink all you want and you don’t get a hangover,” I said.

We stepped inside, and the crowd waiting there gave a wild cheer when we strolled through the door. Jim Morrison opened up on stage playing Riders on the Storm and I led the crew to the bar.

“That’s Jim Morrison! Hot damn!” Lead Belly said.

Chico stood there with his jaw jacked open and his eyes wide. A busty redhead and a blonde danced topless on top of the bar.

“I’ll say this place is bigger on the inside than on the outside. That bar seems to run on forever. I see guys I know, plus other guys from the kind of clubs that I wouldn’t expect to be here.”

“Those old rivalries are no more. The only thing you take with you when you die, bro, is love,” I said.

Sonny sauntered up, along with all the brothers from the book of the dead, and greeted the new arrivals.

“Damn Sonny. It’s good to see you, bro,” Chico said and then gave him a big bear hug.

“It’s good to see you too, bro. What do you think of this place?” Sonny asked.

“It’s something, all right,” Chico said.

By this time my pops stepped up and said, “Yeah, when I first got here I couldn’t believe it either.”

“What’s with these women?” Tiny asked.

“You can hook up with one if you want to. We have cabins out back,” I said.

“Booze, wild women? That was never my idea of heaven. I thought it’d be all angels and harps,” Dirty Dan said.

“This is Biker Heaven. Everything’s okay here. Have a good time. Let’s belly up to the bar. I’m buying the first round,” I said.

We were at the bar tossing back some Jack when Little Danny Boy stepped in.

“I hate to break this up, but we’ve got some brothers that need our help,” Little Danny Boy said.

“Yeah, I know. Are you ready to roll?” I asked.

“We’re lining up outside.”

“I’ll be right there,” I said.

“What? What are you talking about?” Chico asked.

“What is the first thing you remember right after the crash?” I asked.

Chico thought for a moment and then said, “I seem to remember some weird lights.”

“When you died, the Devil’s imps were waiting to take your souls down to hell. We fought them off, but we lost five of our bros. We’re going to bring them home,” I said.

“Where did them evil shits take them?” Chico asked.

“Down to Biker Hell,” I said.

“I want to go with you,” Chico said.

I shook my head. “No bro, you can’t. You’re in a transitional phase right now. It wouldn’t be safe. You’re not safe until your body is in the ground and the preacher says some words over you. The Halo Riders will take care of this.” By this time, the new arrivals were crowding around to listen. “You guys stay here and enjoy the party. We’ll handle this.”

Little Danny Boy and I went outside and I glanced at the Halo Riders lining up on their spirit bikes. It surprised me to see how many wanted to go on this run. The odds were against us coming back. In the rear of the pack, I noticed Cowboy and Joker. They had signed up with the Halo crew. Then I saw Bone Crusher pull up so I strolled over. “Bro, you don’t have to do this,” I said. “After all that time you spent on the Lost Highway, you deserve a break.”

Bone Crusher looked up at me and I saw a flash of determination in his eyes. “When I was down there riding the Lost Highway, you came after me. I’ll never forget that. Now I have the chance to go rescue someone else. I plan to take it.”

A grin crossed my face. “Okay, bro. I won’t stand in your way,” I said.

“Are you ready?” Little Danny Boy asked, sitting on his scooter at the front of the pack.

“Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s roll,” I said and climbed onto my spirit bike.

We headed down the King’s Highway, heading away from Biker Heaven. We climbed a steep hill, entered the woods, and passed through a pristine forest. The land opened up, we passed through a lush green meadow and reached the Border Lands. Leading the pack, Little Danny Boy pressed down on his handlebars. His bike seemed to disappear into the ground itself. The riders in front of me followed his lead. When I reached the border, I pressed down on my handlebars and felt myself sinking. For several seconds there was nothing but darkness, but then the stars appeared. Sinking, down from the Heavens, I saw the Earth in all her glory coming up fast. Rather than touching down on its surface, we sank through the crust in a flash, descending to the Earth’s core. We touched down at the crossroads at the end of the Lost Highway. We turned right and headed up the dark dreary highway leading to Biker Hell.

***

I let out a cough, breathing in the smell of sulfur and soot, as we motored up the road. My head throbbed and a deep feeling of oppression and despair filled my soul. My spirit bike belched black smoke and didn’t want to run. A cold chill ran up my spine when I saw the flames raging in the distance. We rolled on through the darkness toward the fires of hell. Potholes filled the road and I saw the eyes of evil creatures lurking in the distance. We rolled around a bend and saw a checkpoint up ahead. Sawhorses blocked the road. Motorcycle cops stood guarding the entrance to Biker Hell. They wore black body armor with black hockey masks covering their faces. They held shotguns and cattle prods in their hands. A horse-drawn carriage pulled up to the checkpoint in front of us and the guards waved them through.

Little Danny Boy pulled up about a hundred yards from the checkpoint. “This is it. We’re gonna have to fight our way through. If we let them take us, we could be here for eternity.”

“That ain’t gonna happen bro. Let’s get this thing done,” I said.

Little Danny boy hit the throttle. He raced towards the gates of hell and the rest of us thundered along behind him.

When we reached the checkpoint we gunned our throttles. We opened up on the Devil’s henchmen guarding the gates. Balls of blue light shot out of my 357 knocking one of the guards on his ass. Little Danny Boy opened up on another one and the rest scattered. We hit their barricade. The force shattered the sawhorses to bits and pieces of smoldering matchwood. Rolling on the throttle, we motored down the road descending into the bowels of hell itself.

I saw another motorcycle cop pull over on the side of the road. He had a cat of nine tails in his hands. He was whipping a dark-haired woman, who was on the ground screaming in terror. She wore a black bikini top that revealed a deep valley of cleavage and a pair of Daisy Duke shorts. On her back, underneath the bloody whip marks, I saw the tattoo of an angel with its wings spread. I braked, pulled over to the side of the road, and shot the motor cop in the head with my 357.

“Get on, before more of these bastards show up!” I yelled. In Biker Hell, the cops ran the show.

The woman jumped up and climbed on behind me. “Thank you,” she whispered and I hit the throttle. We headed down the highway, sinking into the pits of hell. After about a half-hour, we saw the dim flickering lights of a bar, sitting off to the side of the road. Little Danny Boy pulled in. The bar was like none that I’ve ever seen. The dilapidated building looked dreary in the dim light. The motorcycles parked out front didn’t look much better. Hanging by the door was a sign with the words: hope dies here.

We parked our scooters and stepped up onto the boardwalk. The woman I picked up by the road, clung to my arm. Little Danny Boy kicked open the door and we stormed inside.

Bikers lined the bar and sat at tables throughout the room. All eyes turned to us for an instant. Taking in the bar’s patrons, I took in the hopeless look of despair in their eyes. The smell of cigarette smoke and sour whiskey filled the air. Little Danny Boy crossed the room to a table and we sat down. I sat across from the woman I’d picked up on the road. A skinny waitress with full-body tattoos sashayed over to our table trying to look sexy. “What can I get you guys?” she asked.

“You have any Jack?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No, only the house brew.”

“I guess that will have to do,” I said. The waitress came back and brought us drinks that taste like used motor oil with a little bit of alcohol mixed in. Grimacing from the repugnant taste, I turned back to the woman from the road and said, “What’s your name?”

“Carol. Bartlett”

“Why was that cop whipping you?” I asked.

“He didn’t like my tattoo, but that was only an excuse. They’re a bunch of sadistic assholes. They’ll whip you, hit you with a cattle prod, and then toss you in the lock-up for the least provocation. If you do something really bad, they take you to the catacombs. You’ll be in trouble for helping me and killing that cop.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said.

“Where are these catacombs?” Little Danny Boy asked.

“A few miles down the road, the road forks, and heads down into a deep crater. The catacombs are down there,” She said.

“We’re looking for five guys from the Road Dogs motorcycle club. They don’t belong here. We’ve come to take them home,” Little Danny Boy said.

“I saw ‘em. The little demons in the black robes took them. They’re down at the catacombs. You guys don’t belong here either. Where are you from?” Carol asked.

“We rolled down here from Biker Heaven,” Little Danny Boy said.

A look of hope crossed her face. “You guys don’t have a snowball’s chance of breaking those guys out. If you do could you take me back with you to Biker Heaven?” she pleaded.

I reached across the table and laid my hand on her arm.

“Sure, baby. You can ride with me,” I said.

The door burst open. Twenty cops in black body armor stormed into the bar. They carried pump-action shotguns and baseball bats. One of them blew a loud whistle and began to bust up the joint. One of them took a swing at a beer bottle shattering it into minute pieces of glass.

“Quick! Out the back!” Carol yelled and ran for the back door. We jumped up and followed. In the parking lot, we jumped onto our spirit bikes and roared down the highway.

When we reached the fork in the road about fifteen minutes later, we turned left. The road turned rocky and descended into a deep crater. Off in the distance, at the bottom of the crater, a trimmer shot down my spine when I saw a molten lake of fire. The road snaked its way along the edge of the crater as we continued down into the pit. When we reached the bottom, I saw hundreds of little demons in black robes. They drove wagons pulled by evil creatures that vaguely resembled horses. The evil beast snorted fire and their breath smelled of sulfur. The back of the wagons contained the wrenched remains of long-lost souls. When the demons reached the lake of fire, they tossed their loads into the lake and went back for more.

“Where to now?” I asked Carol.

“Follow the wall of the crater to your left. The catacombs are on the other side.”

I motioned to Little Danny Boy and we turned to the left following the curve of the crater. We had to dodge potholes and debris lying in the road as we wove our way through the wagons heading to the lake. The demons whipped their beast and shouted curses at us as we passed. After about an hour, we saw the catacombs off in the distance. A half-hour later, Little Danny Boy stopped one hundred yards from the main entrance. Several of the motorcycle coppers in their black body armor stood on guard duty. They looked alert, gazing out at the scene before them with their beady red eyes.

“This place is depressing,” Little Danny Boy said.

“What’s your plan?” I asked when I pulled up next to him.

“Shit. I don’t have a plan. Let’s go in with guns blazing. This is an all-or-nothing deal,” Little Danny Boy said. He dropped his shifter into gear. We roared down the road toward the catacombs with our throttles cranked wide open.

When we pulled up to the catacombs, we leaped from our motor scooters. We opened up on the motor cops guarding the entrance. Balls of blue lightning lit up the night. One of them hit Cowboy square in the chest. He disappeared in a flash of light. His soul would later materialize back at Biker Heaven, but he was gone from this plane of existence. The guards scattered and we stormed into the catacombs.

“Where to now?” I asked Carol.

“I don’t know, but they’re in here somewhere,” she said.

We headed deeper into the catacombs, following the main passageway. On both sides, of the passageway, we saw small fissures with bars covering the openings to the tiny cells. Looking into the nearest one, I saw a wretched soul hunkered down near the back of the enclosure.

“This place is too big. We’ll never find them,” I said.

“We have to,” Little Daddy Boy said.

We continued, deeper into the catacombs. We came around a bend and ran right into a mob of the little demons in the black robes. The one leading the pack shot a bolt of red lightning from his fingertips. It hit me in the shoulder spun me around and knocked me to my knees.

Little Danny Boy helped me to my feet. “You can’t take much more of that. We’d best retreat and find another way. There’s too many of them.”

“But we can’t leave our bros behind,” I pleaded.

“Yeah, but if these SOBs overrun us, we’re all liable to be here for eternity,” Little Danny Boy said. He gave the order to retreat.

A bright flash of white light filled the cavern knocking the little demons to the floor. The archangel Michael stood before us. The little demons trembled in fear and retreated down the passageway. Michael turned his head looking back over his shoulder and grinned. “Time to set the captives free,” he said. “Follow me.”

He headed down the passageway and we followed. As he passed each cell, the bars disintegrated showering us with dirt and debris. The captive souls fled into the night. We found our bros in a tiny damp cell. They jumped to their feet when the bars blew off their cells.

“Boy, are we glad to see you guys,” Blowout, an older bro that the demons took after the wreck on the highway, said.

“Yeah, we thought the gig was up for sure,” a guy we called Spider said.

“You should have known we wouldn’t let them get away with this. We got a big party waiting for you guys waiting in Biker Heaven,” I said.

“The time grows short,” Michael said.

We followed the archangel out. As we stepped out of the catacombs, five more spirit bikes appeared out of thin air.

“Hot damn! Those are some fine-looking scooters,” Blowout said.

“Those are your spirit bikes. They’re like an extension of your soul,” I said.

“Let’s mount up,” Little Danny Boy said.

“Ride, true, Iron Horse Warriors,” the archangel Michael said.

Little Danny Boy nodded. “Thanks for your help,” he said and hit the throttle. We roared down the highway leaving the fires of hell behind.

***

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Do You Believe in Miracles?

Hey, It’s been a while since my last post. I hope you are having a wonderful 2023. If you are reading this then you must have noticed that I have changed the title of my page. Writing will always be my main focus, I am branching out into new things. I am branching out into new things and I will be creating new pages. I am starting an affiliate marketing business, as well as working on myself spiritually through meditation and self-development. I want to be the best Dave that I can be. My newest novel, Invasions, came out on February 17th, it is the fifth book in my science fiction series, Space Corps Chronicles. I will leave the link to its sales page at amazon below. I have also completed the rough draft of a Western novel, titled The Mojave Kid. It is a prequel to my novel, Tale Spinner and of course, I am working on my next novel

So, do you believe in miracles? I am not talking about acts of God where a higher power intervenes to save life and limb. I believe that those kinds of miracles do happen, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I am talking about the miracles you create for yourself by believing in yourself, by hard work, by focusing your attention on your goals, and by reprograming your subconscious mind for success, wealth, and happiness. I plan future posts where I will focus on these things. I am currently sixty-five years old. At best I have maybe thirty years left to live on this Earth. It is my goal to make my last thirty years, the best years of my life. Life is a journey and I invite you to come along with me. Let’s make miracles togeather.

https://www.amazon.com/INVASIONS-Space-Corps-Chronicles-Book-ebook/dp/B0BQPKBNXQ?ref_=ast_author_dp

Here is a another short story for your reading pleasure.

The Reunion

Chico, Tiny, Dirty Dan, and Lead Belly carried their gear out of the Road Dogs clubhouse. They secured everything on the back of their motorcycles. Several more members were busy packing their gear onto their motorcycles. Excitement filled the air. The bros prepared for their annual pilgrimage to Sturgis South Dakota. They planned to attend the Black Hills Rally.

Noticing a shadow near the side of the clubhouse, Chico glanced over and a cold chill shot down his spine.

“What’s wrong with you? You look like someone danced a jig on your grave,” Tiny said. “Bro. You’re as white as a freshly washed bed sheet.”

Chico shook off the eerie feeling. “I don’t know man. I got this feeling that someone was watching me. I glanced up for a second and saw someone standing there by the corner of the building. He was wearing a black hooded robe.”

Tiny laughed, stepped up, and slapped Chico on the back. “You got the first day of the run jitters.” Tiny pulled a flask from his vest pocket and handed it to Chico. “Here, take a shot of the good stuff.”

“There’s nothing in this world that a shot of Jack won’t take the edge off,” Chico said. He downed the shot of Jack Daniels whiskey.

Dirty Dan and Lead Belly stepped up. “Which route do you wanna take?” Dirty Dan asked.

“I figured we’d head over to New Mexico. We’ll stay the night in Albuquerque.”

One of the prospects loaded up some tools into a pickup bed and hooked up a motorcycle trailer to the truck. The prospects were in charge of loading the camping gear into the bed of the pickup and trailer at the rear of the pack. After he finished securing his duffle bag onto the back of his bike, Chico pulled his bike out onto the highway. Tiny pulled up next to Chico, and Dirty Dan. Lead Belly fell in behind them. With the chapter officers riding upfront, the rest of the patched members fell into line. The prospects brought up the rear followed by the tail gunner and the chase truck.

Letting out a wild yell, Chico said, “The last one to Sturgis buys the beer at the Broken Spoke Saloon!” With that, he hit the throttle and headed down the highway and the rest of the Road Dogs followed. The sound of their loud pipes resonated across the desert. From the shadows near the corner of the clubhouse, the Grim Reaper held his sickle over his shoulder. He looked out from under his hood with his evil glowing red eyes and laughed. The sinister raspy sound caused a black cat, crossing the parking lot, to let out a hiss and run for the nearest tree.

The Road Dogs headed east on highway 86 until they reached Tucson. At Tucson, they took interstate 10 east. An eerie feeling shot up and down Chico’s spine and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He kept glancing in his rearview mirror. Now and then, he thought he saw a rider near the back of the pack that didn’t belong. He saw someone, riding a dilapidated rusty-looking old Harley. The rider wore a black hooded robe. The color of the bike reminded Chico of dried blood. Even in the wind, the hood never left the rider’s head and Chico never saw his face.

A Dodge pickup truck rolling along in the next lane honked, startling Chico. Taking his eyes off the mirror, he realized that he had started to drift into the other lane. Leaning to the right, Chico pulled back into his, own lane and goosed the throttle passing the truck.

Damn, I got to get a hold of myself, Chico thought.

Pulling into Tucson, the Road Dogs pulled into an Arco station to top off their tanks. Dirty Dan stepped up to Chico. The hot desert sun caused a bead of sweat to track down the side of Chico’s face.

“Hey bro. What’s with you today man. You almost crashed into that truck back there,” Dirty Dan said.

Chico shrugged. “I don’t know man. I thought I saw someone riding along behind us. You didn’t see anyone, did you?”

Dirty Dan shook his head. “Dude. We’re on our way to Sturgis. There are shit loads of bikers on the road, but no man. I didn’t see anything,” Dirty Dan said. He handed Chico a flask and Chico took a hit of Jack.

“That went down smooth,” Chico said. “A few more shots and I’ll be feeling no pain.”

“Yeah, but go easy. You need some grub. Let’s find a place on the east end of town and get something to eat.”

“We’ll eat in Las Cruces,” Chico said.

From the shadows, standing beside the service station, the Grim Reaper chuckled.

Finished at the gas station, the Road Dogs headed east on Interstate 10. They took an off-ramp in Las Cruces New Mexico and pulled into a Burger King for lunch.

“What’s with you? You’ve been jumpy all day,” Tiny said to Chico over a burger.

“I don’t know man. Have you guys seen this biker wearing a black robe with a hood pulled up over his head? He’s been following along behind us,” Chico asked.

The rest of the Road Dogs at the table exchanged glances.

“No man, we haven’t seen anything like that, bro” Tiny said.

“Well, I keep seeing this dude in my rearview,” Chico said.

“You know, there’s a hell of a lot of bikers out there right now. I saw a couple of riders behind us, but no one that looked like that.”

“It’s probably my imagination. Ever since that deal with the Dark Rider a few years ago, I’ve been seeing weird shit.”

“Once we pull into the motel, have some grub, and tie one on at the nearest bar, you’ll be fine,” Dirty Dan said.

“I hope the motel has a pool. I want to take a dip,” Lead Belly said.

Finished with lunch, they climbed on their scooters. They headed north on Interstate 25 toward Albuquerque. While they crossed the desert, Chico kept checking his rearview mirror. Now and then, he would catch a glimpse of the mysterious hooded rider.

The Road Dogs pulled into Albuquerque as the sun went down over the Land of Enchantment. They pulled into Motel 6, rented five rooms, and then stowed their gear. Finished with that, they headed across the road to, a Denny’s, restaurant. The hostess led them to a large table in a back room. A waitress came to take their orders.

“We’ll have a round of beers before we eat,” Chico said. The waitress nodded, took their drink orders, and then took the orders for their food.

“That wasn’t a bad ride,” Tiny said.

“My butt fell off somewhere south of Belen,” Dirty Dan said.

“You guys are a bunch of pussies,” Chico said.

“And what’s with you? You were weaving all over the road. You kept checking your rearview mirror as if the Devil himself was on your tail,” Lead Belly said.

Chico looked down at the table. “I kept seeing someone behind us. Are you sure you guys didn’t see anything?”

Everyone shrugged. “Maybe the Dark Rider’s back. He wants your soul, bro,” Lead Belly said.

Anger flashed in Chico’s eyes. “Don’t even say that, man.”

“Relax, bro. I was joking.”

Finished with their dinner, the Road Dogs hit the bar and had a few brews before heading back to the motel. Back at Motel 6, they changed into their swimming trunks and took a dip in the pool. Dirty Dan stood by the edge of the pool. “Here comes the world’s biggest cannonball!” he yelled and jumped into the pool making a big splash. Tiny stood by the edge of the pool and took off his shirt.

“Who let the bear into the pool?” Lead Belly said and laughed.

“Yeah, take off your fur coat,” Chico said.

Tiny struck a pose. “You guys are jealous of my manly physique,” he said and then did a massive belly flop. Most of the bros sitting around the pool drinking beer jumped back to avoid the splash. Chico climbed out of the pool, headed down to the deep end, climbed onto the diving board, and dived in. When he reached the bottom of the pool, he saw a dark shadow. The shadow enveloped him, his head bumped the bottom of the pool and he felt as if someone was coking him. His hands went to his throat, his vision went dark; he opened up his mouth and took in water. Chico’s consciousness faded and he sank to the bottom of the pool.

Noticing Chico in trouble, Dirty Dan dived down to the bottom of the pool. He grabbed Chico by his arms and hauled him to the surface. Tiny and Lead Belly helped Dirty Dan lift him out of the pool and they laid him on his stomach. Dirty Dan climbed out of the pool and lifted Chico off the wet cement.

“He’s not breathing,” he said and then slapped Chico hard across the back several times. Chico coughed up water and began to breathe.

“Bro, you scared the shit out of me. What happened down there?” Dirty Dan asked.

“I don’t know, man. I saw something dark, like a shadow. It felt like it was choking me. Then I hit my head on the bottom, took in some water, and passed out.”

“Bro you’ve been acting freaky on this trip. Are you sure you don’t want to call this run, off?” Lead Belly said.

“Hell no! We go to Sturgis every year. I ain’t about to let this shit stop me, Chico said.”

“All right bro. You know we’ve got your back no matter what you decide,” Lead Belly said.

They helped Chico to his feet. He sat down in a folding chair and drank beer while the rest of the bros went back into the pool. That night as he lay down in his motel room, Chico drifted off into a troubled sleep. In one dream, he kept seeing the dark hooded rider following along behind him. He gunned the throttle, but the vile creature gained on him and he couldn’t get away. In another dream, he was back at the bottom of the pool and the Grim Reaper was on top of him choking him. In another dream, Chico stepped into the back door of a church. People sat down on the pews waiting for a funeral to start. Chico headed down to the front, glanced into the coffin, and put his fist to his mouth to stifle a scream. Looking down once more, he saw himself lying dead in the coffin. Chico jumped up in bed gasping for air.

“You okay bro?” Dirty Dan, who was sleeping on the floor, asked.

“Yeah. I’m fine. I had a nightmare, that’s all,” Chico said.

“Man something has you spooked on this trip.”

“Forget about it. Go back to sleep,” Chico said and then lay back down. Soon, he heard Dirty Dan start to snore. It took Chico a while longer to fall back asleep.

***

Chico woke from a restless troubled sleep at five AM the next morning. The Road Dogs climbed from their beds and dressed. They gathered outside of their motel rooms, bleary-eyed and hungover.

“I need about a gallon of coffee before I’m ready for the road,” Chico said.

“Me too, bro. I’m about as hungry as an anorexic polar bear,” Dirty Dan said.

“You’re always hungry,” Lead Belly said.

“Like, they say in the song, if you want to run cool, you need heavy, heavy fuel.”

“Let’s head over to the restaurant, get some breakfast and coffee, up. This has the makings of a good day,” Chico said.

They packed their gear and climbed onto their scooters. They motored over to the restaurant. After tanking up on breakfast they hit the highway. They headed north on Interstate 25. As Chico led the pack north, he felt good for a change. The crisp morning air had a bite to it. The eerie feeling that had followed him since they left Harlem Springs was gone. He kept his eyes off the rearview and kept his face in the wind, enjoying the ride. The weather turned cloudy and overcast and they saw dark clouds to the north. Chico signaled to the pack, leading the Road Dogs off the highway.

“We’re heading into a storm. Put on your rain gear if you brought it,” Chico said.

“That’s one thing you can count on when you ride to Sturgis, is bad weather,” Tiny said.

“Yeah, remember last year in that canyon up in Colorado? The hail beat the dog shit out of us,” Lead Belly said.

Lightning flashed and a crack of thunder rolled across the land. After they put on their rain gear, they headed north. The sky opened up pounding them with rain. It soon turned to hail, but they kept their throttles cranked and rode through it. It rained off and on, throughout the day. They passed through the Raton Pass and crossed the Colorado state line. The sunburst forth drying off both man and machine. They pulled off the highway in Denver to gas up and have lunch. Chico led them into another Denny’s restaurant and they strolled inside.

“Damn. I’m glad that rain quit,” Tiny said.

“Me too. I about froze my balls off. I left them somewhere back below the Raton Pass,” Lead Belly said.

“You seem like you’re in a better mood,” Dirty Dan said to Chico. “I guess you got rid of all your bugaboos.”

Chico bit into a juicy hamburger and then said, “Yeah, I’m glad it stopped raining. My hands were so cold I thought they were going to fall off. Right now, I’m trying to enjoy the ride.”

“We gonna stop somewhere else or roll on through?” Dirty Dan asked.

“I thought we’d stay the night in Cheyenne and then roll on up to Sturgis tomorrow morning.”

Finished with lunch, they gathered in the parking lot. They talked and joked while they had one last cigarette. Five minutes later, they climbed onto their scooters and hit the interstate. Standing in the shadows, a dark hooded figure stood watching. He watched the pack of bikers leave the parking lot and an evil grin spread across his face.

Chico rode hard leading the Road Dogs MC north on Interstate 25. It rained and hailed throughout the day, but Chico didn’t mind. He got lost in the wind, enjoying the ride. He quit checking his mirrors for the hooded rider following along behind the pack. He shrugged off the eerie feeling he’d had as the first day of the ride jitters. As they approached the Wyoming border, the sun came out and the weather turned warm. They began to see herds of antelope grazing out on the prairie. When they rolled into Cheyenne, Chico led the pack off the freeway and into the parking lot of a Best Western motel.

After checking into their rooms, they motored up the street to a steak house and Chico sprang for dinner.

“Whoa, big spender. What got into you?” Lead Belly asked when Chico offered to pick up the check for the entire group.

Chico grinned. “I feel good and I wanted to do something good for my bros. I’m finally starting to have a good time.”

Dirty Dan put his arm around Chico’s neck when they stood up. “It’s about time. You had me worried there for a while. Are you sure you’re not seeing any more ghost riders following along behind us?”

Chico grinned and let out a nervous laugh. “No, I haven’t.”

“What you need is to get a head start on the partying. I’ve got a bottle of Jack Single Barrel that I’ve been itching to crack. Let’s kill that sucker out by the pool tonight,” Dirty Dan said.

Chico nodded. “I could go for that.”

Finished with their supper, they motored back to the Best Western. They changed into their swimming suits and hit the pool. Chico, Dirty Dan, and Lead Belly sat down in the hot tub and Dirty Dan passed around the bottle.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Chico said and took a shot.

“No, that’s what I’m takin’ about,” Dirty Dan said when a busty blonde with an hourglass figure stepped out of the motel. She wore a string bikini that was nothing more than a handful of cloth with a string running up the crack of her ass. It looked like butt floss. Her massive breasts spilled out of the top leaving little to the imagination.

“I do love them southern bells,” Lead Belly said. He noticed the Confederate flag depicted on the young woman’s bikini top. They watched her slip into the pool.

“You remember them Halo Riders that seem to show up when we’re having some type of trouble?” Tiny asked a few seconds later.

Chico let out a snort. “How can I forget? It ain’t every day that a band of troubleshooters from beyond the grave ride up as big as life.”

“I know. I still have a problem believing all that, but I saw their pictures in the Book of The Dead.”

“What about them?” Chico asked.

“That bro Cave Man he sure loved his Jack,” Tiny said.

“Yeah, and that stuff he carried in that flask was better than any whiskey I’ve ever had,” Chico said.

“That old boy Cave Man was a righteous dude. He saved our ass that time when the Dark Rider-” Dirty Dan stopped when he saw the pale look cross Chico’s face.

“I’d prefer not to talk about that SOB,” Chico said.

“Sure. Whatever you say, bro,” Dirty Dan said and handed Chico the bottle. “Have another shot.”

After the conversation in the hot tub, Chico’s mood turned dark. That night, he had troubled dreams, but he woke up the next morning in a good mood. He had forgotten about his nightmares. The hooded rider he’d been seeing in his rearview mirror was far from his mind. It was the last day of the trip; at the end of the day’s ride, they would be in Sturgis South Dakota for the Black Hills Rally. It would be one big party for the next ten days. It would be filled with hard-drinking, loose women, and lots of, motorcycle riding. They would spend the first couple of days in town. Then they would head out to places like Deadwood and Mount Rushmore. They might hit Custer State Park and the Crazy Horse Monument.

After leaving Cheyenne, the Road Dogs headed north. The weather was warm and sunny for the first hour or so, but it soon clouded up and thunderstorms pelted the land. South of Casper Wyoming, they took a two-lane highway heading east. Then took another, two-lane highway north and hit Interstate 90 east of Gillette. They headed east toward the South Dakota state line. A big grin crossed Chico’s face when they rolled across the border into South Dakota. His mind was in the present moment and he was ready for the ride to be over. It was time to party. A gentle rain fell from the sky, but it wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle. Somewhere, between Spearfish and Sturgis, Chico heard a motorcycle pull up next to him. He glanced over, his eyes widened in shock and his mouth dropped open. Beside him rode the Grim Reaper. He was the hooded rider that he’d been seeing throughout the trip. The wind blew the hood off the rider’s head revealing his skeletal features. Chico noticed his evil red beady eyes and his malicious grin. At that exact instant, a semi-truck on the other side of Chico blew a front tire. The tire peeled off the rim the truck jackknifed swerving into Chico’s lane and he went down under the wheels. Behind him, the Road Dogs crashed, falling, down like dominos.

***

Hey Bro this is Cave Man. We were sitting on our spirit bikes at the top of the hill looking down the freeway when the Road Dogs crashed. We were in spirit form, not in physical bodies. Old School was sitting on his bike next to me and the rest of the Halo Riders lined up behind us. A sexy-looking young woman in a red Mustang drove right through Old School and blasted on down the hill.

“Damn it feels weird when they do that,” Old School said.

“I know bro. I don’t like this gig. This doesn’t seem right to me,” I said.

When Little Danny Boy told me that the Road Dogs were going to crash on the highway, he said that the majority of them were coming home to Biker Heaven. I urged the folks in charge to let me try and stop it from happening. I argued that Chico was the best president the club ever had. It couldn’t be his time. Lead Belly was supposed to grow old with Janet. The powers that be claimed that it was the way things were, supposed to happen. Little Danny Boy started planning their reunion. He sent Old School, Sonny, and the rest of the Halo Riders down to Earth to bring them home.

“Here they come,” Old school said.

I sat there in horror and watched the accident happen. It’s never pretty when a man lays his scooter down. Chico went down first under the truck, and the rest of the pack plowed into the riders in front of them. It was a serenade of scraping mettle, breaking glass, and squealing tires. The smell of burnt rubber filled the air. The only ones to survive were the five prospects riding at the rear. Little Mike, riding tail end Charlie and the two bros in the chase truck. They managed to pull over to the side of the freeway and avoid the crash. I saw what looked like thousands of little hooded demons spring up from the ground itself. I watched the Grim Reaper pull over to where Chico lay under the truck.

“Time to go to war!” I yelled and gunned the throttle on my spirit bike shooting down the hill like a rocket. We rode down to the crash site with guns blazing. When you’re in spirit form, your gat shoots blue or green balls of lightning. When they hit one of the evil little shits, if they take a direct hit, they explode in a flash of light. If you hit them with a glancing blow, it will knock them on their ass and drain their energy. If they take enough hits and their energy drains they’ll disappear from this plane of existence.

When I arrived at the scene of the crash, the Grim Reaper had Chico by the shoulders trying to rip his soul from his body. He wanted to drag his soul to hell. I grabbed him by the back of the hood and threw him to the ground. Pulling my gat, I fired a round of blue lighting through his forehead. He exploded into a blinding flash of smoke and light. Chico rose, up out of his body, and stood next to the semi-truck with a bewildered look on his face. “Don’t move bro,” I said and whirled around. The evil little demons in their tattered black robes turned on us and we had a rumble on the interstate. All though unseen by the human eye, the battle was quick but violent. Flashes of blue light from the bro’s gats filled the air. Evil red beams of light shot out from the demon’s fingertips. Thunder rolled across the land and lightning flashed. The smell of soot-filled the air, and a cloud of smoke floated on the breeze.

The battle was over Old School stepped up next to me. “Did we lose any?” I asked.

Old School nodded. “They took five. They jumped on top of them and disappeared sinking right into the ground.”

“We’ll have to go after them later,” I said. “Right now we have some brothers to take home.”

Chico stepped up to me. A cold wind blew across the land but being in the spirit, we didn’t feel it. “What happened?” Chico asked.

“You’re dead bro. You and most of the crew. You guys crashed,” I said.

“Why didn’t you guys come to help us?”

“We’re here now bro,” I said watching the spirits of our downed brothers rise out of their bodies. “For what it’s worth, I fought against the powers that be. I wanted to intervene before the crash, but the brass in Biker Heaven wouldn’t let us. They said that this was the way things were, supposed to happen.”

The spirits of our downed brothers gathered around us. We watched the people react to the accident.

“Did everyone die?” Chico asked.

I shook my head. “Five prospects and Little Mike didn’t crash. Plus the bros in the chase truck managed to avoid the crash.” Little Mike was a gray beard who had been in the club for years.

“That’s it then for the Road Dogs?” Chico said.

“No, bro. They’ll rebuild,” Old School said.

“What do we do now?” Lead Belly asked.

“Now, we’re heading to Biker Heaven. We’ve got a reunion waiting for you guys like nothing you’ve ever seen. You’ve never partied, like we party in Biker Heaven.” Several spirit bikes appeared on the road next to us. The newly dead bikers stood looking on in awe at the majestic machines. “Time to mount up. Elvis Presley, Buddy Holly, Jim Morrison, and Jimmy Hendricks, plus a few others are warming up on stage. They’re ready to start the show as soon as we get there.”

Chico took a glance at his mangled body underneath the truck and then climbed onto his spirit bike. The others climbed onto their new scooters and I lead the pack up the road. Pulling back on the bars I shot up into the heavens and my bros followed.

***

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