Note: See Part 1 for disclaimers.
THE ONLY EASY DAY IS YESTERDAY
"The Journey of Jeremy Keller"
by OldScout
Part 9The bar was empty except for six bikers dressed in well worn
black leather and denim. The bar tender wore greasy white cook's
clothing and an apron, his hair was pulled up into a dirty baseball cap
that had a glob of white caulking on the rim with the inscription "Damn
Pigeons" across the front.
"What'll ya' have, bud?" the man said past a shredded toothpick
dangling from the corner of his mouth.
"Can of Bud and a cheese burger." Jeremy replied as he dropped
his bag on a chair and draped his jacket over the back of another.
The man put a can of beer on the bar and popped the top. "Need a
glass?"
"No thanks." Jeremy said as he retrieved the beer and dropped
into the chair next to his bag. "Any place around here a man can crash
for a night?"
"Ya'll can put up in the garage out back if you want." Toothpick
man said with a grin "For say, ah, ten bucks."
Jeremy frowned "I'll think about it."
"Better let me know soon, the price goes up when the sun sets."
The man said then headed in back to start the burger.
Jeremy shook his head then turned toward the window and looked
out through a layer of grime at the clear, blue late afternoon sky.
"Hi, there." a rough female voice said from behind him. With the
voice came the smell of sweat, motor oil and cheap hand lotion.
Jeremy looked at his visitor, she was one of the bikers. Her
greasy, long brown hair was pulled back in a simple pony tail then held
down with a dirty bandanna. Her skin was deeply tanned and weathered
by the open road. The woman wore only torn jeans, motorcycle boots and
a tight leather vest held together by two loose buttons. Jeremy couldn't
help but think that cleaned up, she would probably be quite attractive.
"Mind if I join you?"
Jeremy shrugged "Not at all, have a seat." he said and indicated a
chair across the table from him. The woman took the one next to him.
She said that her name was Rita and that her and her friends were on
their way to California to hook up with some new business. She then
asked Jeremy about himself and were he was going.
"Guess I'm headed west looking for work, something'll come up,
it always does." Jeremy had just finished speaking when someone came
out of the back room and headed straight for them.
"RITA!, what the hell you doing over here?" the man was large
and muscular with short blond hair and a mustache. He turned
immediately to Jeremy, "And who the hell are you?"
"No one, I'm just passing through." Jeremy said calmly.
The casual tone and total lack of fear in Jeremy's voice seemed to
enrage the man even more. "Well you just stay the hell away from my
woman."
"I'm not looking for any trouble, I'm just here for something to
eat." Jeremy continued casually, totally unintimidated by the brute. By
now, he had become aware of the gathering attention of the rest of the
flock.
"Tough, punk!" the man said and grabbed Jeremy by the collar
yanking him to his feet. "I'll teach you to get smart with me."
"Get em' Lynx" someone yelled from the group. But before Lynx
could do anything else, Jeremy punched straight out hitting the man fast
and hard in the middle of the breast bone. The man's heart flutter for a
beat and all wind was driven from his lungs. Lynx dropped to the ground
like a sack of flour, landing on his knees doubled over in pain.
Jeremy didn't smile or say a word, just turned for his bag so he
could leave the restaurant. Before he could find the duffel, however,
searing pain ripped through his back.
"You son of a bitch!" came Rita's voice from behind.
Jeremy twisted his hand around his back searching for the pain.
He found the handle of a large knife but couldn't get a grip on it, he could
also feel something warm and wet. His hand came back covered with
bright red blood. The knife stuck high in his back must have struck a
major artery. Things began to blur, and the room started to spin. In the
distance, a voice called out "Get him." Pain exploded in his face as his
nose broke, then the room turned on its side and the floor slammed him
hard on the side of the head. Something landed solidly on his right hand
smashing it against the floor and shattering most of its bones. Soon his
whole body erupted in to pain that quickly faded as his life drained from
him.
Taking his last conscious breath, Jeremy could hear someone say
"Cool it, the cops."
Without saying a word, the gang jumped into action. Rita went
out side to stall the two cops who had pulled up in separate vehicles.
Inside, they worked together to drag Jeremy's body and his belongings
into a back room. They also took up residence at Jeremy's table. Seats
and the table were placed over the largest pool of blood. Between that
and the dim lighting, all sign of the violence of just moments before
disappeared.
Pain surged through Jeremy's body as the quickening brought life
back to him. Every bone and muscle burned as convulsions of healing
ripped through him. The wound in his back continued to flare, Jeremy
found the large knife still inbedded there. Pulling it out caused a fresh
surge of blood that healed quickly.
Jeremy struggled to his feet in near darkness. His eyes adjusted
revealing shelves and other amenities of a store room. With his first step
he stumbled over a large familiar bag. Could it be that these animals
didn't bother to search him. A quick check under his left pant leg
revealed the .357 and the contents of the bag were also undisturbed.
In the bar, the gang was still the only patrons. If the police had
been here, they were gone now. Jeremy watched the group still seated at
his table, his jacket still hung on the back of one of the chairs. The
closest person was actually Rita, she sat at the bar facing into the room
with her back toward him.
Jeremy weighed the woman's knife in his hand and pulled at the
blood encrusted shirt plastered to his body. A plan formed, the thought
wasn't pleasant, but they would definitely get the picture.
Rita never heard him coming till he was right behind her.
"I believe this is yours." Jeremy said slamming the knife down
impaling Rita's right hand to the bar top. The knife went through Rita's
hand and the bar, splattering blood in all directions. He didn't know
which caused Rita to scream the loudest, her right hand impaled by her
own bowie knife or the sight of her blood encrusted victim now standing
beside her.
Jeremy leveled the shot gun at the room and grabbed the .357 out
from the waist of his jeans. Someone called Rita's name, and another
exclaimed "Son of a bitch! your suppose to be dead!"
Jeremy walked into the room pointing both guns at the others.
"Now don't anybody do anything stupid, and no one else will get hurt."
One of the gang jumped at him with a loud scream. Jeremy
leaned back allowing the man to pass in front of him. As the attacker
went by, Jeremy pistol whipped the fool with the .357. The man landed
unconscious at Jeremy's feet with a large gash in the back of his head.
Someone else on the other side of the room used the distraction to
pull a 9mm automatic. Jeremy heard the click of the round slidding into
place and opened fire with the shotgun. A hole the size of a softball blew
through the gunman throwing him against a wall splattering it with blood
and gore.
Jeremy pumped another round into the Remmington and pointed
it at the blond they called Lynx. "You started this little fiasco." Jeremy
said through clenched teeth, then pulled at his blood covered shirt "and
ruined my favorite shirt."
The man just stared at him, he hadn't moved from his seat at the
table. Others around the room adjusted some moving towards him,
others away. Rita was still sobbing, screaming and swearing in the
background.
Pointing the shotgun back at the other four Jeremy ordered them
to sit down, which they did. He then turned back to Lynx "Now the way I
see it, you owe me for one shirt, and pain and suffering." Jeremy lifted the
man's chin with the barrel of the shotgun as he asked "Don't you agree?"
Lynx just looked at him.
"Now what would be adequate compensation?" Jeremy looked out
the window "I know, how about your motorcycle? I think that would be a
start at least, don't you?"
"Kill him, Lynx!" Rita yelled from the bar.
Jeremy stepped back and brought the gun up to eye level. "Well,
what's your decision?"
Lynx reached slowly into his pocket and put the keys to his bike
on the table.
"Good boy, I knew you weren't as stupid as your friend over
there." Jeremy said indicating the body slumped against the far wall. He
then reached for the keys, as he did so, Lynx grabbed for him. Jeremy
swung the butt of the shotgun around slamming the man in the temple
knocking him to the floor.
"Sir, you would have disappointed me if you hadn't of tried
something."
Jeremy took the keys then began to walk around the room. He
picked up his jacket and replaced his destroyed shirt with it, leaving the
rag on the floor. He then went behind the bar and ate the cold cheese
burger that was still waiting for him. All the while, Rita was yelling and
swearing at him as she tried to dislodge her hand from the knife that was
permanently imbedded in the bar.
"One more thing" Jeremy said as he finally left the bar. "If I ever
see any of you again, I will kill you on sight." he then looked directly at
Rita "and I mean any of you. Understood?"
"You son of a bitch!!" Rita yelled one last time as Jeremy went
outside.
The bike Jeremy wanted was obvious, it was a black Harley with
a picture of a lynx on the gas tank. Jeremy secured his bag then headed
out of the lot when he felt the buzz of the quickening. He spun around to
see a new motorcyclist approach from the East.
At the stranger's approach, the others sans Rita, came out of the
bar. The man pulled up about ten feet away. He was large and muscular
with a thick beard and long dark hair. "Mister, you appear to be riding a
bike that belongs to a friend of mine." the immortal said. "If you get your
sorry ass off of it right now, I may let you walk out of here with your
head."
"Lance!" someone yelled "He killed Jake and stuck Rita somethin'
bad."
"Is this true?" the man snarled and uncovered the handle of a
sword.
Jeremy pulled the Remington out and pointed it at Lance. "Its
true, your pack over there bit off more then they could chew, and paid the
price."
"This isn't the time or the place for us." Lance said "Even if you
use your toy there. The game isn't for spectators."
"Game?" Jeremy smiled "I don't play games"
"Everyone plays," Lance said as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes
and a lighter "even pukes like you play, eventually." Just then a gun shot
rang out from the bar. The bullet ripped across Jeremy's chest tearing a
bloody gash in him. A second shot caught him squarely in the side,
almost knocking him off the bike. In response Jeremy pulled the .357
and aimed it back at the shooter, it was the man he had pistol whipped
earlier. Jeremy fired a single shot at his attacker hitting high in the chest,
just below the neck. The man flew back and spun around splattering
blood on the others before landing face down in the dirt.
Lance took the distraction to start for his sword but Jeremy
leveled the shot gun at him. "Your a dead man." Lance said and lit his
cigarette, "I'll catch up with you before that wound heels. Your head will
be mine before the sun is gone."
"I suppose your right." Jeremy said then lowered the shot gun.
Lance suddenly read something in Jeremy's eyes, and panicked. It
was too late. Jeremy shot Lance's gas tank. Gas flashed up exploding
into a fireball tearing both lance and his motorcycle apart. Jeremy
gunned the throttle and rode off calmly down the road not even thinking
of looking back.
to be continued.......................