CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Baja —

We're about a mile out from the clubhouse when Rock calls Night Train on speaker.

The man picks up. "Yeah?"

"Are the women there?"

"Nope. They dropped off your costumes earlier and said they were goin' to that Mexican place on Main Street. Probably at Lola's by now."

"Is the place set up?" Rock asks.

"Looks spooky as hell in here, so yeah. Prospects put out these gothic iron candle things that stand five feet tall. Where the hell did your ol' lady get those?"

"God only knows."

"Well, there's a bunch of ‘em."

"We got the booze stocked?"

"Oh, yeah. We're ready. Who all's comin'?"

"Hell, probably the same as last year. She put out the word to the support club's ol' ladies. I'm sure they'll be some hang-arounds, probably some of the dancers from the Cherry Bomb who aren't working. Lola's brat pack, Kate's friend Lizzy and her husband. Maybe more."

"Great. You know I hate crowds, right?"

Rock chuckles. "You and me, both, brother. We can hide in my office."

"Not if your ol' lady has anything to say about it."

Rock disconnects, and Darko drives us into the clubhouse parking lot.

Standing and stretching, I crack my back and relieve some of the tension. We're all exhausted and need to clean up. I brush some of the desert dust off my jeans and follow the others up the stairs and inside.

Night Train is sitting at the bar, Hondo and Rosie at his feet. The lights are on, so the place is bright. Two prospects are putting up fake spider webs. Monster Mash plays through the speakers.

"Cut that shitty music off," Rock yells.

Night Train twists on his stool. "How'd it go?"

"Come on, boys. Have a beer." Rock takes a seat at the end of the bar, and we all follow.

One of the prospects scurries over to wait on us, but Utah waves him off. "Go back to what you were doing. I got this."

Utah passes out a round of longnecks.

I press the cold bottle to my forehead, and the sensation is pure relief. "God, I fucking hate the desert."

"So, what happened?" Night Train asks.

Rock twists off the top to his beer and swallows half the bottle before answering. "We rode northwest through Dolores and across to Monticello, Utah. Then it was another hundred miles north past the Canyonlands National Park to Interstate 70. We picked it up and headed east to Thompson Springs."

"Which is a little piss-ant town," Darko adds.

"True," Rock agrees. "At the exit where we need to get off, there's a gas station. First sign of civilization we see out that way. I don't know how the hell people live like that—middle of fucking nowhere. Anyway, we roll through this rinky-dink town. Hell, can you even call it a town?" He looks toward Darko, who huffs.

"Barely," Darko replies and picks up the story. "We're all piled in this old van. We pass an RV park. It's half empty. We drive on. There's a stop sign, and I'm thinking it's got to be the only one in town. We cross a set of railroad tracks and finally come up on this address, and I kid you not, there's a dog house thing out by the road that says Ward loves Bonnie. You know, with one of them red hearts in place of the word love."

"Yeah, ‘cause that's romantic. Jesus Christ," Utah mumbles.

Rock picks up the story. "There's a garbage dumpster, a single wide trailer, an outbuilding, and an old RV parked behind it. I'm thinking they've got to be cookin' meth. What the hell other kind of job could you have out there? Unless they all work at the only gas station for miles. There's a black pickup, a little red Dodge Neon, and three ninja bikes. We ride on past and double back. There's a broken-down dump truck across the road in a gravel area. Darko pulls behind it, and we spread out, doing a little recon. We scope the property out for a while, and eventually a woman comes out and gets in the Neon. She's got a shirt with the gas station logo on it, so I'm thinkin' she's off to work."

"She's probably the only one of that bunch who's pulling a paycheck," Memphis adds.

"No doubt," Rock agrees. "Once she's gone, we creep up and peer through the windows. The three guys are in there playing video games, Call of Duty or some shit with machine gun fire, and the volume is cranked so loud, I know there's no way they're gonna hear us. Trez keeps watch while the rest of us rush them, guns drawn. They're so fucking surprised, they freeze."

Memphis chuckles. "Stupid sons-of-bitches. Then Utah kicks the flat screen with his boot and it goes silent. Baja identified the one guy, as well as the three bikes outside. So, we go to work. Before we're through, they spill the Vipers' entire plan."

"They got a plan?" Night Train asks.

Rock nods. "Oh, yeah. They've got a three-year plan you wouldn't believe. Now that we know it, we'll have to get to work to stop it."

Night Train cocks his head, his eyes going around the group. "What'd you do with the little Rat Boys?"

"Took ‘em at gunpoint and loaded ‘em in the van," Rock says. "Drove ‘em out about ten miles into the scrubland and found a grove of creosote bushes and left them out there."

"Left them out there?" Night Train questions.

Utah grins. "Well, we put three bullets in their heads first. Nobody is gonna find those bodies for years, if ever. Buried ‘em good. Ain't no vultures gonna be circling, leading anybody to ‘em."

"In broad daylight? And no one saw you?" Night Train frowns.

Rock shakes his head. "I'm telling you… the place was in the middle of nowhere. Never saw another car on the road the entire time."

Darko leans forward. "If you can call it a road; the thing was the most dilapidated piece-of-shit pavement I've ever seen. Sand and vegetation eating it up, and as narrow as it was, you could barely get two cars to pass each other if there'd been any."

"And you left no trace?" Night Train asks.

"There were some cameras, but Utah yanked every one of those out and took ‘em with us. Even brushed our footprints away," I elaborate.

"Ain't my first rodeo, Night Train," Rock comments.

Night Train lifts his beer. "You da best, boss."

"Thanks. Now we can relax, knowing that threat is gone," Rock says.

"Until the Vipers realize," Night Train adds.

"They aren't going to realize shit," Rock snaps. "We loaded their bikes in the back of that old dump truck. No one's gonna find them. Vipers come lookin', they'll figure they took off."

Utah starts laughing. "Guess what Memphis did? He left a Utah State Police business card on the door with a note saying Bonnie was wanted for questioning.

"She ain't gonna report shit," Memphis says. "Especially with the Meth Lab in the back."

"Who'd be stupid enough to believe that?" Night Train mutters.

"You'd be surprised. People are idiots. Especially ones cookin' meth," Darko replies.

"Well, glad you're all back in one piece. I'm sure the girls will be, too."

"Shit, that reminds me," Rock says, making a call. "We're back, babe. Safe and sound." He pauses and cranes his neck. "How do I like my costume? Uh, haven't seen it yet." He grins. "Calm down, I got time to change into it." He checks his watch. "Oh, hey, it is late, huh?" He glances around. "Yeah, the place looks good. The prospects have been busy. No, babe, we'll be ready. I swear. Okay, see ya soon."

There are chuckles all around the bar as we try to hide our laughter.

He disconnects and tosses his phone on the bar top. "Shut up, all of you. Goddamn it, where are these costumes?" He wanders to the seating area where two leather sofas sit near the big fireplace.

We all follow and watch as he sorts through garment bags, each with a name card attached. He starts passing them out. "Better grab a shower and get into these quick, boys. Our ol' ladies are on their way."

We each get our bag and head to our rooms.

I take a quick shower, then walk out of the bathroom in a towel and unzip the bag. "A pirate. That's not so bad. Cool."

I exit the room and head down the hall just as Utah comes out of his room. I take one look at his costume and bust out laughing. He's dressed as a furry wolf, with his face in the wolf's mouth.

"Shut up, asshole. Who the fuck are you supposed to be?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow. Isn't it obvious?"

"Well, you need more of a swagger than that. He always looked half in the bag."

I slap a hand on his shoulder. "Can't wait to see what Little Red Riding Hood looks like. I bet she's sexy as hell."

"You stay the fuck away from her, or I'll take that sword and shove it up your ass."

I remove my feathered hat and take a sweeping bow. "I can't help it if the ladies love me, now, can I?"

"Shut up." He stalks off, his big tail swishing behind him.

I swat at it, and he grabs it up in his paws.

"Knock it off." He keeps walking. "I'm gonna kill Kate for putting me in this ridiculous thing."

My laughter follows him down the hall.