SALVATION chapter 11

Salvation
chapter 11

Brawley, California

3:00 PM
Nick took a frontage road off the 8 freeway as he
neared the city of El Centro. A farming community
serving the produce growers of California's Imperial
Valley..He turned left and navigated a series of dirt
access roads working his way north to the cattle town
of Brawley where he'd pick up the head of highway
78 north. A two lane alternate route making it's way
north east to Blythe where the 10 freeway intersected.
It was the town of Blythe where he planned to wait
for Michelle's call.

Brawley appeared quiet as he rode through the
downtown sector. A combination of manure and
hay scent waft the air. The district maintained an old
school 1950's atmosphere where one might still expect
department stores advertised as a five and dime.
The speed limit an excruciating twenty five miles per hour.
Cable strung stop lights with a red track mind left Nick
exposed and vulnerable.

After ten nerve racking minutes of stop and go he finally sat at the
head of 78 north waiting for the final light to turn green.
It was there, across the street, outside a rundown liquor store
he first saw the man.
Nick's impulse was that of a solemn resolve.
A gut instinct unquestionably dictating to Nick's soul the man
did not belong.

As if in direct defiance to Nick's initial judgement the man
seemed as if he not only belonged, but ruled his surroundings.
The arms where stretched outward like the wings of a bird.
The wrists limp, the hands dangling.
In the left he held what appeared to be a bottle of Orange
Crush that swung against the rhythm of a dance.
A dance that reminded Nick of a waltz..
A waltz originating from a distant age created under
dark foreboding skies.

From an ancient time when Man was but a spice added to a
mixture of emerging concepts.
Light and Dark finding themselves inadvertently stirred
and mingled within the boundaries of a great cauldron.
Gasping and suffocating at the repulsive touch and stench
of the other with no escape.
Out of an intolerable disharmony the fabric of separation was born.
Lines drawn, sides chosen, legions formed, in symbolic denial
and rebellion against the truth of a great catastrophe.

Through the concept of elimination great weapons were
forged into the world.
Legions of the Dark awaited in bound cages their
rights of birth.
Unleashed upon the world by mechanism of a summons.
Enacted through the movements of a dance. Performed in
forbidden forests under dark reflected moonlight, to an
audience of yellow eyes.

And as he danced his surroundings grew.
Emanating from the ground he stood on.
Seeping low and outward in all directions like the shadow
of a cloud absorbing the streets and buildings
of the entire township and beyond.

Attached to the belt loop of a tan colored zoot suit
flashed a gold watch case suspended by a chain.
Nick couldn't see the eyes.
A matching colored fedora was cocked and forward
leaving only a blissful smile to the imagination.

The light turned green and Nick crossed the intersection
drawing the attention of the man.
He dared not return the gaze but kept his eyes focused
down the road.
The blissful smile erupted into a gapping cheerful grin.
As if the sight of Nick brought to mind a sudden realization
of a deep dark secret known only to himself.
Nick felt the eyes bore deep into his back raising goose flesh
down his spine. The 78 mercifully bent itself around a swooping
left putting the man's line of sight behind him.

Two miles down the road his heart rate slowed to normal.
To his left a dairy farm seemed to stretch for miles. Grazing
pastures lush with green mixed against plowed dirt fields
anticipating planting..
Like salt and pepper sprinkled across the land, black
and white Jerseys forged their way northward fronting
the roadway. It was a fun road to travel given to combinations
of short straightaways then left and right exchanges as the road
worked it's way north then east then north again.

After navigating a particularly tight left Nick jammed down on
the breaks hard causing a slight fishtail from the rear end.
Cattle were in the roadway. A large break in the fencing exposed
their means of escape..Behind them a hundred Jerseys marched
in single file toward a common destination. To the north hundreds
more crowded the fence line their bodies rigid and alert as if
deciding where their rightful place stood in the ever growing
exit line.

Nick brought the bike to a standing halt. His jaw dropped,
eyes bulging in amazement and horror.
Dead cows were in the roadway..
Dropping stone dead as their hooves touched the black surface
of the tarmac. Piling on the shoulder ten feet wide...
The line of the dead slowly merging into the left lane as
those that came after staggered their way over fallen
brethren until they too became victims of the road.
The black and white barrier grew steady and thick reaching
the center yellow division strip of faded double lines
and spilling into the right lane.
Nick still had time to circumvent them on the right shoulder
but time was running out.
He leaned forward peering at the roadway seeking a device
crossing it that might explain the phenomenon..
He detected nothing but was gripped with fear of becoming a
victim himself once breaking the apparent invisible line.
The massacre continued relentless closing the gap.
He put the Harley in first and slipped the clutch crossing
the line at the extreme right shoulder.
As he did the cattle to the north stampeded the fence line.
Five hundred feet ahead of him they charged the fence
like a battering ram laying it to waste.
Gone were the docile brown eyes of submissive beasts
of burden. Replace instead by a malevolent rage of bloodlust.
They hurled through the mangled fence kicking and
screaming, snapping back their gum lines exposing perfect
rows of two inch square cap teeth.

Nick slammed the bike in second gear and the earth shook.
The rear tire bit and slipped against the bucking road bed.
A billowing curtain of cloudy dust rose up behind the stampede
catching the up draft of Santa Anna creating a wall of
storm..
Three hundred feet away he screamed "third!" catching
the upper gear gaining speed..
The road bucked again as inertia slammed the dead
against pavement sliding and building against the shoulder.
All eyes where trained on him now. Frenzied eyes that
glared determination.
The air filled with deafening thunder.
Charging hooves,breaking bones, snapping jaws, and
the barking exhaust of an accelerating Harley Softail.

Two hundred feet out the left lane was completely
covered. What had taken minutes for the cattle to
accomplish previously now had taken only a
few seconds.
He punched fourth gear as a cow plundered into the
right lane. A hundred feet to go and the gap was
there..So were the cows.
Charging over the fallen, it's neck extended like a
race horse, the murderous right eye of the cow
knew it had him.
Nick slid against the gas tank and targeting the gap
then let go of the handle bars..
The cow launched it's self into the air.
Nick laid his back down flat against the seat and
raised his left leg off the driving peg.
Turning it's head in mid air the cow barred it's teeth
to meet the on coming prey.
Locking his knee, raising his leg, like a lance his left boot crushed
through a mouth of gnashing teeth. It's head
jerked left forcing the bike right.
Staring directly at the sky, Nick watched as the
massive head passed over him an inch above his
brow line crashing to the road a fraction behind the
rear fender.
Grabbing the bars he tore himself from the seat and leaned
left with all his might cutting diagonally across the lanes.
He shook his head up shifting to fifth cranking open the
throttle grip he burned down the roadway against a sand
storm sky.


Riverside, California

4:00 PM
Michelle found conditions on the east 90 state highway only
slightly improved, but as the miles slowly gathered carrying her
farther from the center of Los Angeles air quality and visibility
began to improve.
She had just merged onto the 60 east in Riverside, a twenty
five mile stretch that would link her with Interstate 10 east
when she fell in behind a small group of motorcyclists ahead
of her. Mimicking their pathways through congestion and
accident scenes.
The ability to see obstructions farther ahead rewarded an
overall improvement in her state of mind. Now with the added
comfort knowing others such as her self were finding success
cautiously freeing themselves from the chaotic region.

She had been on the road for three and a half hours
covering a total distance of seventy five miles.
Fatigue had settled between her shoulder blades.She
needed water badly plus the slow progression had used
two thirds of the bike's fuel.
Riverside was too dangerous to consider stopping. Soon
she would merge on the 10 east down the San Gorgonio
Pass to small desert towns where she would find a quiet
spot to fuel the bike and call her parents and Nick.
That goal still lay one hundred miles away.

The bikers ahead of her slowed abruptly swinging around
a bad accident. People were standing in the roadway and
as Michelle navigated a slow turn a man appeared clutching
and hurdling at her. His right leg was wounded and dragging
behind as he leapt trying to pull Michelle from the bike.
She ducked her head instinctively and the man's out
stretched hands caught the dome of her helmet deflecting
his strength allowing her to speed passed.
It happened so fast she first thought a large bird had
mistakenly flown into her path. Not until she glanced in
the right side mirror seeing the man sprawled on the
roadway did she realize she'd been attacked.

In the moments following the incident she became
resolved. She wanted to be with Nick. She suddenly
realized getting to Nick was the driving force that had
given her the fierce determination to get through this
ordeal..She straightened her back releasing muscle
tensions and allowed her self the luxury of hope.
After all she'd been through this day and most certainly
the worst behind her she felt a new energy.
Even the ass hole on the hard tail custom chopper behind
her couldn't intimidate her now..
He'd been dogging her tail for the last ten miles trying
to pass her. The close zigzag moves around traffic
and debris hadn't allowed a passing opportunity and
with each mile the rider's frustration was becoming
more aggressive.
Finally the road opened for a quarter mile and the
chopper blasted past. The rider's left arm
extended flipping her the finger. The frame and
gas tank were a combination of air brushed
red and orange flames over a yellow base.
Raked forks, ape hanger handle bars, and bright
chrome engine casing. The rear tire wide
and thick like a hot rod roadster's.
The extended appendage of the rider continued
waving like a flag as it barreled down the road
passing the other motorcyclists as well.
Michelle breathed relief as the fat oversized rear
tire disappeared from view..
"Nick" she whispered.."Soon I'll be with Nick."