Despite what the cops might have to say, I have no connection to the Pagans,
Outlaws, or Hells Angels, and I use their names and insignia without permission.
Leaning against the cornices of the tower, Elisa stifled a yawn as she waited for
the sun to sink below the horizon and release the huge gargoyle crouched on the
parapet from his stone prison.
"Could have used more sleep today, that's for sure…" Elisa muttered to herself; but
after explaining to her father why she had plowed his Tahoe into the side of
building, and why she had left the scene of the wreck, she'd spent the rest of the
night making up a plausible story to give the officers who had responded to either
the crash or the reports of gunfire, attack helicopters, or laser wielding
gargoyles.
Needless to say, the sun had been very high in the sky by the time she had got back
to her apartment and collapsed on the bed.
But as night reached out to claim New York, the gargoyle on the parapet roared to
life, and Elisa didn't feel tired at all.
"My Elisa, I'm…" Goliath, began, smiling as he turned to find his love standing
behind him, but the smile froze when he spotted the small bandages on Elisa's face.,
"Elisa, what happened?" he said, jumping down form the cornices and rushing to the
small human woman's side.
"I'm fine, Goliath." Elisa said, wrapping an arm reassuringly around Goliath's
massive waist, "Better than fine, actually…"
A ghost of a smile returned to Goliath's lips,
"So I take it you've found the answers to the questions that bothered you so much?"
Elisa laughed,
"More like I realized the question's themselves were idiotic…" Elisa shook her head,
"I just needed some help to realize it."
Goliath put his arms across Elisa's shoulder and the two began to head down the
tower stairs together to join the rest of the clan.
Halfway down the first flight, Goliath asked Elisa,
"And who helped you that realization, Elisa?"
'And this is the part', Elisa thought, 'Where he freaks out.'
"Angel."
"What!?" goliath stopped dead, "How could that brute and his senseless disregard for
decency…"
"Goliath, I couldn't tell you why I felt I needed to talk to him...but I did. And he
helped me."
Goliath seemed to calm down,
"I trust your judgment, my love; but if you wouldn't mind, could you tell me what
happened?"
Elisa was silent for awhile,
"Of course I can big guy…" Elisa finally said, beginning to retell the events of the
previous night for what felt like the umpteenth time.
Across town in the labyrinth, two ragged teenagers were eagerly recounting the
visitor
who had shown up the night before,
"Did you see that gargoyle?"
"He was hard to miss, man! He looked mean as hell…"
"Yeah, but he was all dressed up like a biker, what was that about?"
"I dunno…hey, maybe it has something to do with those Quarrymen who got stomped a
few weeks ago."
"Yeah, maybe…hey there's Talon, lets ask him! Yo Talon!" The teenager shouted at
black furred mutate,
"Hey Tim, what is it?" Talon asked,
"Was that big biker gargoyle who was in here last night part'a the crew that messed
up those Quarry-assholes awhile back?"
Talon looked confused,
"What big biker gargoyle?"
"You know, the big tan one, haven't seen him before but…hey what did it say on the
back of his vest?" Tim asked his friend,
"Vikingz." She supplied, "With a helmet and crossed axes too…"
"Wait, the gargoyle wearing that was in here the other night?"
"Uh, yeah…he was wit' yer sister I think…"
Talon closed his eyes and took a deep breathe,
"If you kids will excuse me, I need to make a telephone call," Without another word,
Talon whirled and stalked down a tunnel, towards the labyrinths living room.
"I wonder what's got him so pissed off?" Tim asked,
His friend could only shrug.
Talon shoved open the door to the living room and headed for the phone, barely
noticing that Delilah was seated in front of the computer Elisa and his mother had
found for the Labyrinth.
Picking up the receiver, Talon punched out the number to Elisa's cell phone and
waited for a ring tone.
He got a recording instead, Elisa smooth voice asking for him to leave a message,
"Hey Elisa, Derek here; gimme a call ASAP." Slamming down the receiver, Talon shook
his head and sat down on the weathered couch to wait for his sister to return his
call.
"Talon…" Delilah asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Talon was surprised Delilah had spoken to him; the clone seemed to have been
maintaining an almost shamed air of silence when she was around Talon and the other
mutates lately,
"Yeah?"
"What's a biker?"
"Do what now?"
"What's a biker?" Delilah repeated, slightly louder than before.
"Umm, well…what kind of biker?"
"The kind that Angel is."
"Oh an outlaw…" Talon was somewhat curious as to why Delilah wanted to know, but
decided it would be best to keep talking and see if he could draw Delilah out of her
adopted solitude instead of asking questions, "An outlaw biker is a criminal on a
motorcycle."
"Oh…are these outlaws?" Delilah asked, pointing to the computer screen, which
displayed a menacing looking winged skull and a photo spread of bikers wearing Hells
Angels patches.
"Uh yeah, their Hells Angels Delilah their kinda the worst of the worst…what website
is this anyway?"
"Hells Angels dot com."
"Huh. Okay, yeah so…Angels the same kind of…person as these guys, big, mean, and
criminal."
"But why is he a criminal?"
"I don't know Delilah; but he is, for whatever reason."
Delilah shook her head and looked confused
"But he seemed nice..."
"Goddamn fucking trigger happy cocksucking paranoid pigfucking sonsabitches…"
"Now tell us how you really feel chief."
"Go fuck yourself Billy." Angel snarled at his fellow Viking, before returning his
attention to the wreck spread across the ground in front of him.
The tall blond Viking who had been needling him shook his head and sighed,
"That frame is shot, the forks are toast, front wheels bent almost triple…"
"…Brake'sr in three pieces, battery's smashed, gas tank is split down the middle,
fenders are history, and the bars look like a fucking Christmas ribbon." Angel
finished Billy's assessment, then snarled and kicked a box of parts over, scattering
them across the cracked concrete of the Vikingz' warehouse.
"We SHOULD have wasted some of those Quarrymen!"
'Hey chief, at least most of the internal shit is still okay; I mean the engine
oughta work fine, fuel systems alright, and except for the battery, the electrical
is good too…"
"Yeah well, the fucking thing still won't move."
"Well if we take the engine and most a the guts outta this thing and put 'em on
Tramps scoot, he should be able to get his machine runnin'."
"Yeah," With a last mournful look at what remained of his once pristine Harley
chopper,
Angel turned and shouted, "TRAMP!"
A short, pudgy Viking sauntered over, "Yeah?" he asked the tan gargoyle biker
captain,
"Congrats, you just got yourself a new engine…"
"Great, so I can ditch my shovel-head for some antique POS from the sixties…thanks
chief!"
"Oh what, you don't want working bike?"
"No, no, no…" Tramp said, moving to stand protectively over the engine parts strewn
about the ground, "Beggars can't be choosers."
"Hey don't worry chief, worst comes to worse, you can just use that jap bike you
boosted…" Billy said, pointing to what remained of the Honda ST-1100 Angel had used
to escape the Eyrie, which between the damage from the escape and the Vikingz using
it for target practice wasn't much.
"That's nice Billy, very funny. But guess what?" Angel grinned and leaned close to
the blond bikers face, "You just volunteered to let me borrow your bike until
further notice…" Angel reached into the pocket of Billy's vest and pulled out his
keys, before stalking off to the line of bikes against the far wall of the
warehouse.
"Is he serious?" a confused Billy asked Tramp.
Tramp laughed,
"As a heart attack bro; you gotta learn, the Chief gets sensitive about his
bikes…but don't worry he'll calm down and give you the bike back by tomorrow…"
Billy nodded, but took on a pained expression as he watched Angel leap on the back
of his black Harley Springer, start it up, and roar out of the warehouse doors,
closely followed by seven other Vikingz.
Soaring high above the city, Brooklyn, Angela and Broadway, kept their keen eyes
pointed at the ground, looking for any sign of trouble.
"It seems like a pretty quiet night…" Broadway said, "Nothings going down at all."
"Your right…" Brooklyn shook his head, "Not a good sign."
"Why is that, Brooklyn?" Angela asked,
"Its Saturday night in Manhattan, there should at least be a couple crack heads
after an old ladies purse or something…" Brooklyn swung his head up and scanned the
horizon, "Well I don't see any Quarrymen helicopters, giant airships, or all
powerful supreme beings bent on destruction, so maybe there's just something normal
about to happen, like a riot…or a bombing…or a gang war…"
Angela looked over at the red hued gargoyles and rolled her eyes,
"You kids…no respect for your elders," Brooklyn said, before turning to Broadway, "I
don't know where they went wrong with her generation but…what?"
"Umm…I think I know why everything's so quiet tonight." Broadway said, pointing
downwards.
Below them, stretching for a good two miles, were three hundred Harley's riding in
perfect formation down Jefferson Avenue.
"Oh boy…" Brooklyn breathed, as he caught sight of the colorful three piece patches
most of the riders were flying, "Well, tonight just got interesting."
"We should call the rest of the clan…" Angela said, reaching for her communicator,
"Why? These guys aren't doing anything wrong."
"But…"
"He's right Angela." Broadway said, agreeing with the clan second, "But maybe we
should follow them, just to be safe…" he quickly amended as his mate to be sent him
a glare that reminded him of her father.
"My thoughts exactly," Brooklyn said, dipping lower to the ground, to where he could
hear the loud rumble of exhaust from the huge pack of outlaw Harleys.
The three gargoyles trailed the patch wearing pack for blocks, until they stopped in
front of…a Cathedral.
"What the hell?" Brooklyn said, as he watched the bikers climb off their bikes and
gather in neat groups, before being led into the church by a man in the ceremonial
robes of a Cardinal.
The three gargoyles landed on a rooftop nearby and watched in shock as the crowd of
bikers continued to quietly and calmly walk into the huge stone Cathedral.
The three were still staring in wide eyed awe when a new voice came from behind
them, causing them all to spin around in surprise,
"Why the fuck are you spying on the Catholic Motorcycle Association?" Angel demanded
from behind them.
"How the hell did…" Broadway began,
"Uh-ah, you answer my question first, then I might answer yours."
"We saw the patches…I thought outlaws wore patches?" Brooklyn said,
Angel snorted in amusement, before walking over to stand next to the three Wyvern
gargoyles, "Did you try reading the patches?...lets see here, Jesus' Love MC, oh
yeah, real hardass club they are, God Messengers, right, real scary bunch…oh and
look almost everyone has a cross or a picture of Jesus for a main insignia!" Angel
laughed scornfully,
before heading back across the roof, "Tell you what, If you wanna see some outlaws,
just follow me and the boys…" Angel said, before leaping off the roof and onto a
fire escape.
Rushing over, Angela looked down, and spotted seven Vikingz waiting below alongside
a row of Harleys.
"Well, what do you wish to do?" Angela asked Brooklyn,
"Me?"
"It IS your patrol Brook." Broadway pointed out.
"Well…it's a slow night so we might as well go see what there is to see."
As soon as he finished talking, there was a roar from the alley as eight Harley
Davidson's roared to life and the Vikingz pulled onto the street, speeding past the
line of bikes parked in front the church, ignoring the waves the few bikers who
remained outside.
"Come on!" Brooklyn shouted as he leapt off the roof and glided after the Vikingz.
With a shrug to Angela, Broadway followed suit.
Angela hesitated slightly before reaching for her communicator and heading after
Broadway and Brooklyn.
On the street below, Skagg pulled his bike close to Angel's and shouted over the
roar of the straight pipe exhausts,
"Hey chief, what the fuck are we doing? I thought we were going for a quick ride
around the city?"
"We were… but screwing around with these hero type's," Angel stabbed a thumb up at
the sky to show who he meant, "That's an opportunity one can never pass up."
Skagg let out a short bark of laughter.
"You say so boss…so where we headed?"
Angel just grinned and shifted his bike into high gear.
Skagg shifted his own bike and hurried to catch up, but as he did, he felt the cell
phone he kept in his vest begin to vibrate…
"Where is this outlaw taking us?" Angela wondered, as they followed the Vikingz pack
past the clan's territory in Manhattan and into the sprawling borough that gave
Brooklyn his name.
"Hey, it looks like their pulling over up there…" Broadway said, pointing at the
Vikingz.
The three gargoyles all dropped lower, following the Vikingz down a side street and
into a back alley.
As they landed, Angel pulled his borrowed Harley Springer up next to them,
"Change in plans kids," he said, "I was gonna take you down to the Angels clubhouse
in Brooklyn and lay a shock on you, but something else has come up. You guys better
head on back to your turf."
"What?"
"Trust me." Angel shook his head, "You want no part in what we're ridin' into."
"But…" Brooklyn began, but was cut off as Angel gunned his bike and headed out of
the alley, closely followed by the other Vikingz.
The three gargoyles were left standing around and choking on exhaust fumes, until
Angela turned to Brooklyn,
"So are we to take the brutes advice, or shall we see what they're up to?"
"Well…umm…"
"I dunno Brook…I think it might be a better idea to follow 'em and at least find out
what their up to."
"I also think that is an excellent idea," a deep voice rumbled from above,
"What the…" Brooklyn, Angela, and Broadway looked up to find Goliath watching them
from the rooftop of one of the buildings that bordered the alley,
"How'd you…" Brooklyn started to ask, but Goliath cut him off,
"It doesn't matter. However, you and I will have a talk later about keeping the
whole clan informed of your whereabouts…especially when one is dealing with a loose
cannon like that biker." Goliath fixed Brooklyn with a hard stare before continuing,
"But for now, we had better get on the trail of those Vikingz. Lexington is following
them, but they might be hard to track."
With that Goliath moved away from the edge of the roof, before leaping of the and
taking to the air.
Sending a hurt look at Angela and Broadway, Brooklyn climbed up the side of the
building to take flight as well, closely followed by the rest of his patrol.
after gliding high into the air, the spotted Goliath in the distance, and farther
beyond that a distant spot that could only be Lexington.
"Lets go!" Brooklyn shouted, as he hurried to catch up.
Three blood stained vests were laid out on the time worn asphalt of the small
parking lot; one was denim, two were leather.
The denim vest bore a red, blue and white insignia, and the name 'Pagans' in blue
Old English lettering, over a sword wielding demon perched on a flaming horizon.,
with the letters M and C beneath that.
The two leather vests each had an identical three piece patch-a grinning skull over
crossed engine pistons, with the 'OUTLAWS' in white lettering above, and 'New York'
below.
The three blood stained patches were surrounded by about twenty-seven bikers, all of
them wearing vests bearing either the same insignia as those laid out on the ground
or another equally intimidating patch; a grinning, winged skull wearing a motorcycle
helmet, along with a top rocker reading 'Hells Angels'.
"I'm telling you ya dumb piece of shit, we didn't have nothing to do with this!" One
of the Hells Angels was shouting at a bald headed biker wearing a Pagans patch,
"Fuck you Tony!" the Pagan shouted back, "You know anyone else in this city who'd
have a reason to take a shot at us an' the Outlaws?"
"He's got a point Tony." A huge, hairy Outlaw said, "But I'm still not convinced it
was the HA who blasted on us."
"Jimmy, Mojo's right…why would the Hells Angels wanna start some shit with us?" a
fat Pagan pointed out.
"Gut who the hells side are you on? Razz is fuckin' dead man! And I want some
fucking pay back!" Jimmy turned and stalked closer to the knot of Hells Angels, who
bristled and reached for whatever weapons they had on them.
However, the brawl was averted when a deafening roar from eight sets of straight
pipes burst unto the small back lot the bikers were convened on.
"Calm the fuck down, Jimmy!" Angel roared, his eyes flashing a phosphorescent white
as he leapt off his bike.
The enraged Pagan broke off his advance and sullenly moved back to stand with his
club.
The other Vikingz dismounted their bikes and moved to stand between the three
outlaws clubs. Angel stood dead center and examined the three blood soaked patches.
"What the fuck happened?" Angel said, looking around at the three club presidents,
Silence.
"We uh…don't really know." The Outlaws president admitted.
"But they know enough to blame my club!" The Hells Angels President snarled,
"Hey Tony…shut up." Angel said, glaring at the Hells Angels leader.
"Hey, where's that Mongol sonofabitch? He saw what went down." Jimmy, the Pagans
president shouted.
A gray haired and grizzled biker wearing a leather vest with a black and white patch
on the back depicting a mongol warrior on a chopped Harley under the title 'MONGOLS'
was shoved to the front of the crowd.
Angel sized him up,
"Blue, what the fuck are you doing up here in New York?" Angel demanded,
"Well I was just visiting some buddies of mine, until some ass hole pulled up
outside the bar we were hanging out in the other day and opens up on us from a car
window."
"You get a good look at him?" Angel asked,
Blue shook his head,
"After Razz and Al got tagged, I dove for cover behind my bike." Blue stopped and
scratched his head, "Come to think of it, I did see the shooter for a second…he had
on a mask though, but the mask had something on it; a crest like…seemed kinda
familiar, but I can't figure out were I saw it before."
"You might wanna figure it out Blue; and quick or theses guys are gonna rip each
other to shreds."
Angel turned to say something to the three club presidents, but before he could
speak, a loud crash echoed across the parking lot and a green skinned gargoyle
dropped off a rooftop and onto the parking lot full of outlaw bikers.
"What the fuck?", the question came from a dozen men, with slight variations.
The bikers stared in surprise as Broadway stumbled to his feet, and was quickly
joined on the ground by Angela, Goliath, Brooklyn and Lexington.
"The hell are they doing here?" Jimmy shouted, reaching under his shirt for his
pistol.
"I got this…" Angel said, waving off Jimmy and other bikers who had reached for
their guns at the sight of the unfamiliar gargoyles, and stormed across the lot
towards the clan.
"What the hell did I tell you?" Angel hissed when he was close to Brooklyn and
Goliath,
"This isn't any of your fucking concern!"
Goliath stood straight and glared at Angel,
"Anything that threatens the people of our protectorate is our concern," he rumbled,
"And whatever your friends over there do to seek your vengeance, will be a very great
threat to those people indeed."
Angel shrugged,
"In all likelihood, your absolutely right." Angel cocked his head and motioned
Goliath aside, "I tell you what, if you've got a way that'll keep these guys from
killing each other or anyone else, tell me now."
Slightly taken aback, Goliath stammered a reply as he followed Angel away from his
clan to a point halfway between them and the assembled outlaw clubs.
"I don't like this…" Angela murmured to Brooklyn, who nodded in agreement as he
watched Angel and Goliath converse in low tones, meanwhile, Lex was looking at
Broadway and shaking his head,
"So how the hell did you fall down here?"
"I was leaning against the brick wall around the up there and…it broke"
Lexington chuckled,
"Oh man, you need to lose some weight!"
"Hey, I'm the only one here with a girlfriend!" Broadway shot back.
Halfway across the lot, Angel appeared to be listening intently to what Goliath was
saying,
"…vengeance only begets vengeance, my young friend. What's needed here are level
heads and intelligent decisions."
"Yeah, but what if we just kill all of 'em?"
"What!?" Goliath was horrified,
"It wouldn't be to hard; we track down these shooters, wipe 'em out…after that
anybody who might go looking for payback is gonna be to shit scared even think about
looking for payback."
Goliath blinked hard, not believing that any Gargoyle save Demona or Thailog could
be so brutal. He was still working up a reply when Angel glanced back at his fellow
Vikingz and gave a nearly imperceptible nod.
"Listen big G, I appreciate everything you're saying, but right now, what we need
most is unity…and unfortunately , nothing unites us outlaws quite like a common
enemy."
Angel reached in the pocket of his duster and wrapped his fingers through his brass
knuckles, getting ready to deliver a sweet, sharp sucker punch to the larger
gargoyles kidneys.
"Hey waitaminute!" Someone shouted, and both Angel and Goliath turned to see Blue,
the lone Mongols member, push through the crowd of bikers and look at Goliath and
the other gargoyles of the Manhattan clan, "I now were I seen that crest
before…what's the name of that bunch that wants to wipe you guys out?" he asked
Goliath.
"The Quarrymen?"
"That's right! They have, like a silver or gold hammer for a symbol right?"
"Yes…"
"It was them!" Blue shouted, turning to the assembled bikers, "The Quarrymen did
it!"
Jimmy cracked a wolfish grin, before turning to his Pagans,
"Mount up boys! Its payback time!"
The Pagans shouted with bloodthirsty zeal and started to get on their bikes and
roll out of the parking lot and unto the streets.
Goliath watched the biker's pull away for a moment before turning to his clan and
shouting,
"Hurry, we must stop them!",
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Angel snarled, grabbing Goliaths arm to
restrain him.
"We're going to have to stop them before…"
"…before they do what they have too?" Angel shook his head, "Fair's fair Goliath;
these Quarryfucks screw with us, they'd better be ready for the fuckin'
consequences!"
"And you have no problem with whatever vengeance these Pagans will seek?"
"It's there fucking decision man, not mine. And it sure as hell isn't your business
to stop them from doing what they need to; one of their brothers is dead, and
someone's gonna have to pay the price."
"And if they exact retribution, what will keep the Quarrymen from doing the same in
return?"
"The Pagans can deal with that if it happens."
"And what will the innocent people who might get caught in this vendetta do?"
Angel shrugged his leather clad shoulders,
"Shit happens."
Goliath looked shocked, then angry at Angel's callous disregard for the lives of the
innocent.
"How can you…why…" Goliath couldn't quite get any words out of his mouth, but the
questions were easy enough to understand,
"How can I not give a shit about anyone? Why do I act like this?" Angel laughed
scornfully, "I do give a shit about a great many people Goliath, just not the Joe
Six-pack and Ellie Soccer Mom city dwellers and suburbanites you seem hell bent on
getting yourself killed for. I give a shit about my own kind, because no one else
seems too. I'd do ANYTHING to protect them from ANY threat…and right now, the
closest threat is you."
Angel quickly brought out the brass knuckles and slammed them into the flesh above
Goliaths kidney, finally delivering the sucker punch he had been waiting to give.
Goliath folded over at the sudden searing agony that shot form his abdomen, then
collapsed to the ground under another blow Angel fetched to the side of his face.
The clan immediately rushed forward to protect Goliath, and Angel promptly gave
Goliath one sharp kick to the side and charged towards them as well, closely
followed by the seven other Vikingz.
The fifteen or so Hells Angels and Outlaws left in the parking lot hesitated
slightly, the followed the Vikingz into the fray.
Meanwhile, Angel had found himself set upon by Angela and Broadway almost
simultaneously, and was becoming hard pressed to stand his ground.
Ducking a slash form Angela's talons, Angel punched Broadway in the pit of the
stomach, the brass knuckles on his fist sinking into the paunchy gargoyles belly.
Broadway doubled over, but before Angel could duplicate the KO method he'd used on
Goliath, Angela caught him with a roundhouse kick to the head which sent the biker
sprawling unto the ground, dazed.
Before Angela had a chance to make anything of her sudden advantage, she was set
upon by Skagg and another Vikingz member; a dark skinned behemoth whose arms were
covered in old East LA street gang tattoos and newer Vikingz insignia.
The smaller Viking, Skagg, turned out to be the more dangerous of the two, neatly
dodging any blow Angela sent at him while aiming lighting fast blows at her any
chance he got.
He also turned out to be a distraction, as Angela suddenly found herself grabbed
from behind and her arms pinned by the other Vikingz member.
Struggling savagely, Angela desperately tried to shake off the iron grip, but found
she couldn't quite get out,
"Hurry up, Skagg! This bitch is STRONG!" the huge Viking shouted,
"Yeah, yeah…" Skagg darted in, his fist raised to deliver a quick finishing blow,
but Angela's right leg shot out and landed a solid blow on the Vikingz vice
presidents head, knocking him out cold. As the Skagg tumbled to the pavement, Angela
felt the vice grip on her arms loosen and she jumped free of the huge Viking.
Turning, she found Broadway standing over the now unconscious Viking with an
embarrassed expression on his face,
"Sorry it took me so long…"
Angela opened her mouth to reply, but the pair were suddenly set upon by a mixed
bunch of Vikingz, Hells Angels, and Outlaws, and the tide of battle swept them
apart.
Nearby, Brooklyn was standing over the sprawled form's of two Outlaws and a Vikingz
member, but he was losing ground to the four Hells Angels he was currently facing,
while Lexington was currently doing his level best to not simply be bulled over by
Tony, Mojo, and Smalls; the Vikingz' huge Sergeant at Arms.
The fight wore on; three more bikers hit the ground, but more quickly took their
place.
The bikers, experienced at the art of the street fight, knew better then to all
commit at once, as too many brawlers against one target would just get in each
others way.
So slowly but surely, the gargoyles were being worn down, while the bikers staid
relatively fresh.
But then, an enraged roar echoed across the battlefield and Goliath got to his feet,
shaking his head to clear it and looking around with glowing eyes for the nearest
target to vent his frustrations on.
"Oh, shit…" Angel murmured, from the center of the pack of bikers that had been
fighting Angela and Broadway.
The Vikingz president shoved his way towards Goliath, pulling out the steel drive
chain he wore around the hem of his vest as he went.
In the meantime, Goliath had sent three Outlaws flying across the pavement with one
massive arm and leveled two Hells Angels as he made his way back towards his clan.
He made it back quickly, and laid into the three bikers who had been attacking
Lexington.
Tony recognized a fight he couldn't win and backed off to keep Lexington occupied
while Mojo and Smalls unhesitatingly charged Goliath.
Even in his rage fueled state, Goliath found the huge bikers to be tough opponents,
especially when Mojo pulled a huge combat knife from his belt and demonstrated he
knew how to use it.
Taking that as a signal, the rest of the remaining bikers began to pull their own
weapons,
and what had been a brawl now became a fight for life as the clan suddenly faced an
arsenal of knives, guns, and other bits of assorted nastiness.
The gargoyles quickly found themselves pressed into the mouth of an Alley, with a
wall of gawkers forming at the other end.
Goliath winced as a bullet zipped past his head and impacted a wall in the alley,
just in front of the crowd of spectators,
"Goliath, I think it might be time to go!" Brooklyn shouted, as he snatched a Smith
and Wesson form the hands of a Hells Angel and clouted by the biker over the head
with it.
Goliath snarled; he hated to run form a fight but Brooklyn had the right of it.
Sooner or later the fight would spill unto the street beyond, and the crowd of
bystanders would be in even greater danger. Besides, Goliath had spotted the Hells
Angels president talking on his cell phone towards the back of the crowd of bikers
and there was no doubt in Goliaths mind that he was calling for reinforcements, and
Goliath was not excited about the prospects of facing another wave of bikers that
fought as ferociously as these.
"Go! Escape down the alley and unto the street! take to the skies and meet back at
the Eyrie."
The clan quickly retreated down the alley, past the now scattering group of gawking
New Yorkers, and unto the streets beyond. Goliath remained for awhile, doing his best to hold off the bikers single
handedly, but eventually he to retreated, pursued by the taunts of the handful of
bikers still in fighting condition.
"Fucken'a!" Mojo shouted, holstering his blade, "Fucking gargs no better to mess
with the one percent now, man!" he slapped Tony on the back. The Hells Angels
president raised an eyebrow and shook his head as he surveyed the battlefield. It
was strewn with unconscious bikers and a lesson that was quite the opposite of the
one the Outlaws president seemed to be getting, For damn sure, his charter of the
Hells Angels were NEVER going to screw with the Manhattan gargoyles again.
"Messenger!" Tony shouted at one of his few remaining conscious comrades, 'Get
everybody woke up and back on there bikes, we gotta blow outta here before the cops
show up!"
"Sure thing prez."
Mojo looked up form his victory celebration in surprise, then gave a similar set of
orders to the Outlaws.
Tony walked over to Angel, who was mustering the Vikingz by their bikes,
"Was all this shit really necessary?" he asked the tan gargoyle.
Angel sighed,
"Yeah bro, it was, if they'd stopped Jimmy from doing whatever it was he wants to
do, he'd have gone berserk and tried to waste them, and gotten his ass kicked most
likely.
So he'd buy a shitload of firepower and level half the city going after the gargs
and the Quarrymen. And after that, hey presto, there every MC in the state staring
down the sights of an ATF task force and an army of rat mother fucker under covers
trying to infiltrate us." Angel shook his head, "As it stands, he'll kill maybe
three or four Quarrymen and just get his own raggedy ass busted, along with his
charters."
Tony nodded in agreement,
"Okay man, but lets hope that Jimmy doesn't do anything to dramatic.
Across town in Manhattan, a dozen Quarrymen were arrayed around a small podium on a
street corner, on which a speaker was bust haranguing a small crowd that had
gathered despite the late hour.
"Friends, neigbors! There is a threat in this city, the like of which has never been
seen!"
he was shouting, "It grows larger every day, it grows larger even now, as I speak to
you! It poisons the mind's of our children with fear and horror, it turns the
streets of out cities with bloody violence at every turn! We need to…" the speaker
stopped talking as a white SUV slid to s atop in front of the podium and something
poked out the side window;
it took him s a second to realize what it was , but the distant memories from a
rotting jungle, far far away from here quickly came back and he realized he was
staring down the front sights of an M-60 light machine gun.
The gun started to fire, its clanking roar heralding the approach of the death it
spewed back and forth across the podium and the crowd in front of it.
After ten seconds of continual firing, the weapon fell silent and the SUV pulled
away, driving slowly, like the driver didn't have a care in the world.
Back on the stage, the Quarrymen speaker looked down at the ragged, bloody hole that
had been his stomach and laughed, bring forth a bloody froth from his lips.
How funny it was, he thought, that the stuttering demon that had haunted his dreams
since he first heard it outside Hue city in Vietnam would come back to kill him now
that he lived in the country that had spawned it…how very…funny…indeed…