Chapter 2
10 years later
Something, or rather someone, was blocking the light, preventing Henry from finishing up the last bike before calling it a night.
“I’d like to speak to the owner of the garage,” the voice sounded snobbish.
“You’re blockin’ his light,” Not even bothering to stand up, he waited for the man to say his piece and leave.
“Yes well, I’d like to make an offer on this, um, piece of land,”
“What for?” now he was getting angry. The garage had been in his family for generations. It was practically an heirloom. Everyone who’d been here long enough knew that. Which only meant one thing; the guy wasn’t from around here.
“Does it matter? I’m willing to pay a veritable sum for this spit of land,”
Standing up to look at man, Henry frowned at the man’s superior demeanor, not liking him in the least. The large man in the purple suit and greased black hair looked him over like he was some kind of bug he’d like to squash under his patent leather shoe. Who the hell does this suit think he’s doin’ walkin’ in my garage wantin’ to buy the land?
“The Last Chance ain’t for sale,” those being his final words, he turned around wiping his hands on his oil rag.
“Oh dear, I really wish you’d take my offer. It really is quite generous,” the large men motioned for someone to come in behind him. A rather large oily man with a pistol in his hand aimed directly at Henry’s head walked in behind the suit.
“Ya never did give me your name?”
“I didn’t give it my good man. But if you must know, it’s Limburger. Lawrence Limburger,”
“Well, Lawrence, this here garage has been in my family for decades. Ain’t no one gonna buy it from my family. Killing me will just result in a whole lot of trouble for you. So I suggest ya get yourself and your goon outta here before you do something you regret,”
“I never regret anything,” with a flick of his finger, the large man with the gun fired a shot. Henry fell to his knees, his hands came up to his chest warm and sticky with his blood. He watched as the purple suited man and his thug walked out of his garage.
I never got to walk my baby down the aisle at her wedding…
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That night
Stoker was just about to call it a night when his communicator buzzed. What the hell? He looked at the source; Earth, USA, Chicago.
“Henry!” Flipping it open with a smile, his smile died when Tammy’s tear streaked face appeared on screen.
“Tammy?” when she kept on crying, trying to speak through her tears, Stoker stood up with his communicator and ran out of his office. “Tammy! Tammy what’s wrong baby?!”
“Henry… Oh God! He’s been shot!” her voice died on a gut wrenching sob. Dismissing the faces of the recruits on base Stoker made his way to the hanger. He stopped dead in his tracks as her words sunk in.
“H-He’s been shot?” he ran his hand through his hair, not knowing what to make of the whole situation, “is he alright?” his vision blurred with his own tears when Tammy shook her head, unable to speak.
“He died less than hour ago on the way to the hospital,” covering her face in her hands, Tammy’s gut wrenching sobs tore her apart. Stoker felt tears stream down his face as he stared straight ahead, not really seeing anything.
Three recruits came out of the hanger; just the three Stoker had been looking for.
“Stoke?” Throttle put his hand on his commander’s shoulder and shook him a little. Unable to get a response from him, Throttle took the communicator out of his hand and was horrified at the sight on the screen.
“Mrs. Davidson?” Vinnie came beside him, confusion written all over his face.
Modo grabbed Stoker by the shoulders and gave him a hard shake.
“Commander!” Stoker’s eyes focused on the large grey mouse in front of him, “what’s going on?”
“Hen- Henry… he’s been shot,” more tears flowed down his cheeks. Modo pulled him in a hug, not ashamed in the least that he was holding his commander. The Martian needed him.
“W-What?” Vinnie looked at Throttle, alarm written all over his face. Just then Tammy raised her tear stained face and tried to speak. Her words were incomprehensible through her sobs.
“Take a deep breath Tammy. What is it?” he’d never called her by her first name, he’d always been formal. But given the current situation, formalities were thrown out the window.
“Charl-Charlene… oh jesus!” taking another deep breath.
That got the attention of all four,
“What about my l’il darlin’?” Stoker ripped the communicator from Throttle’s hands and looked at Tammy with fearful eyes.
“She… She found him,”
“Oh fuck,”
“We’re coming,” Throttle’s voice sounded eerily cool and collected as he looked from his commander to his bros.
“N-No… you don’t have to. The fu-funeral won’t be for another week or so,” breaking on another sob she cried into her apron.
That was when they saw the blood on her apron.
“Why do you have blood on you Tammy?” Stoker was afraid of the answer and sure enough he could feel himself being torn apart as she looked at him with horror.
“It was everywhere. Charlene’s covered in it. She’s been screamin’ and yellin’ somethin’ fierce. Kicked and punched every paramedic that tried to help her,”
“We’re comin’ Tammy. Hold tight. We’ll be there by morning,”
“How? It takes almost two days to fly to Earth from Mars at high speed,”
“I’ll figure it out somehow, but we’ll be there,”
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Davidson residence
Tammy lay in her bed facing the wall, still in her dress and apron soaked in her husband’s blood. She’d finally fallen asleep after an entire night of moaning and crying in pain at the loss of her beloved husband.
She felt the bed give out as another body lay down behind her. She felt strong furry arms come around her, bringing her back to a warm strong chest. His tail went around her legs, laying them between his own two. Stoker held her close as her body wrenched in agony. She had no tears left to cry, only muscle spasms that tore a large hole in her chest. Breathing through the burning ache in her lungs, she reached an arm back and twined her fingers in Stoker’s long mane of hair, bringing his head closer to hers.
“Oh Stoker!” seeing his tear streaked face, she held him tighter, giving him time to grieve.
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The Last Chance Garage
Charlene sat in the corner on the floor of the garage. Her back against the wall and hugged her knees up to her chest. She rocked back and forth,
“It’s not real… daddy’s comin’ home soon… it’s not real,” her eyes were wild green pools of misery.
“I’m so sorry Charlene,” she recognized that smooth voice.
“No, no, no. NO!” covering her ears with her hands and rocking faster she kept repeating her words like a chant.
“It’s not real… daddy’s comin’ home soon…” tears rolled down her cheeks telling her otherwise.
She kept on staring straight on forward, not caring that she was still caked in her father’s blood. Not caring that she must look like a wreck. Truth be told, she felt like someone had just hit her with a semi. She almost wished someone had. Maybe then the pain would go away.
Strong white furred hands pulled her hands away from her ears. Screaming at the intrusion, she kicked out and fought as the same strong hands held her tight against a warm white furred chest.
Try as she could she couldn’t break free from the iron strong hold. She could feel Vinnie’s chin resting on her head as he held her tight, taking deep breaths like he’d been crying.
She felt another set of arms hugging both her and Vinnie from behind. The warmth from those tan arms was almost comforting, but it didn’t bring her father back.
“L- Let me go! Please…” the last part died on a sob she couldn’t contain making her sound like the little girl they’d left behind ten years earlier.
Finally the kicking and punching stopped, leaving her with nothing but tears. A sob like that from a wounded animal sounded through the garage and the floodgates finally opened.
Yet another set of arms wrapped around them from the side. These being stronger than the rest.
All three friends just stood there, each holding their friend and bros at the same time. No words needed to be said.
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The funeral, 1 week later
All four Martians attended, sitting proudly at the front of the church.
“Is Charlene gonna say a piece?” Stoker asked Tammy. Tammy just shrugged her shoulders.
“I don’t think she will. Poor girl hasn’t spoken a word since she found him,”
After the priest had finished his sermon and invited those who wished to say their piece come up to the pew, he then announced for everyone to hear.
“Henry’s daughter, Charlene, has something special she wants to do for her father before he is committed to the ground,” Tammy and the Martians looked at each other in question.
The low hum followed by a lone guitar sounded over the speaker of the church, then the words came.
It’s all the same, only the names will change
Everyday it seems were wasting away
Another place where the faces are so cold
I’d drive all night just to get back home
The sound of motorcycle at the doors drew the attention of everyone. Two men opened the doors and allowed in the beautiful woman astride her father’s pride and joy; a fully restored 1928 Harley-Davidson JD Bobber he’s affectionately named Charley.
I’m a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride
I’m wanted dead or alive
Wanted dead or alive
She let the bike make its way slowly to its owner. She tried not to look at her mother and their four Martian friends. More like family now.
Sometimes I sleep, sometimes it’s not for days
And the people I meet always go their separate ways
Sometimes you tell the day
By the bottle that you drink
And times when you’re all alone all you do is think
With the doors open, a gentle breeze blew in, blowing her auburn hair in front of her tear streaked face and blowing her black silk dress around her slight frame. Finally arriving at the altar, she dismounted, kicked down the kick stand and made her way to her father’s casket.
I walk these streets, a loaded six string on my back
I play for keeps, cause I might not make it back
I been everywhere, still I’m standing tall
I’ve seen a million faces an I’ve rocked them all
The room practically vibrated with energy at the sight of Henry’s beautiful daughter kneeling at her father’s casket.
“I brought you Charley daddy. I knew you’d want her with you in heaven,”
I’m a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride
I’m wanted dead or alive
I’m a cowboy, I got the night on my side
Im wanted dead or alive
Wanted dead or alive
Vinnie tried to breath, but it felt like a weight was sitting on his chest, preventing him from taking a deep breath. He watched what use to be a lanky little girl, now transformed into a biker beauty mourning the loss of her father, a true biker, with his metal counterpart, the missing puzzle piece to his soul, at her side.
Now crying openly on her father’s casket, Stoker left the pew to go pick up the grieving child in his arms. Looking at Tammy and then at the girl in his arms he looked out the door she’d come riding in by,
“I’m gonna take her home. She needs to sleep,”
“We’ll meet you there,”
Vinnie, Modo, and Throttle looked at the beautiful young woman, her auburn hair flowing over their commander’s arm and back to the stunning motorcycle she’d come riding in on.
“Wow,”
