Young Bikers Road to Wyoming: Union Territory and Hidden Dangers Ahead

I’m on the road towards Wyoming on Pale Horse and I’ve been going for a few hours when I get a phone call and answer it on my Bluetooth.

“You’re calling me, who are you,” I ask my caller.

“Hey kid it’s me,” I hear the Old Man’s voice chime in over the headset,” Heard from Imelda that you were heading out to find the long lost sister.”

“That’s right, something wrong with me going,” I ask smirking.

“No you little shit just letting you know we got a couple road houses along the way if you need them, I’ll have Vicki to that whole texting details shit so you can find them. These are Union houses and I’ve let them know you might be by,” the Old Man tells me.

“Well thank you sir, anything you need me to do when I get to them,” I ask figuring this might turn into a favor or task he needs done.

“Not really, I have things under control down here. You just do what you need to do,” He tells me plainly.

We end the call and I’m down the road enjoying the now afternoon weather. Since the beginning of this year I’ve stopped shaving my head and now it’s actually long enough that I can comb it if I want to but thanks to a lot of bike riding my dirty blond hair goes one way, straight back and down to my neck. The girls love it and keep fighting me on cutting it down, it’s nice but I hate the extra work. I left first thing in the morning on Thursday and its barely afternoon as I’m out of the state and into Oregon before following the interstate east along the Oregon/Washington border. I spend most of my day riding and all the way into the night getting well into Idaho when fatigue hits me midday on Friday. I get into a town call Twin Falls Idaho and end up heading north of there to find a bar/motel of sorts with more bikes in front of it than I care to count. It’s not super crowded outside and I get a spot to park my bike and get a few feet when I really start to feel the fatigue set in. I double check the name and sure enough The Metal Stallion Motel is right where I’m supposed to be. I get inside and the place doesn’t completely go quiet with a new person walking in the bar but since I didn’t see an office I figure this is the place. I pull up to bar and am addressed by a stern biker in a cut with the Union patch and a few others on his chest.

“Kid you wanna explain what brings you here,” The big man asks taking the toothpick out of his mouth.

“Yes I do, I need a room and I was told this was Union territory,” I tell him letting the man see my Pariah patch.

“Well shit kid Jim said you were young but damn if he left that in the understatement category,” the biker bartender tells me,” You look like you’ve been riding for a while.”

“Since yesterday morning, I need to crash out sooner than later,” I tell him leaning hard against the bar.

“Okay kid, hey Clarence,” my new biker friend calls out to a short fat biker,” check this kid’s bike and get him a room.”

“He’s a fucking kid! Let him stay at the motel 6,” the short fat man hollers back.

“He’s Union from Texas,” the barkeep replies back and Clarence hops up to assist.

I lead the way to my bike and grab my saddlebags as Clarence leads me to a room on the second floor. I pass a few rooms where I hear sounds of sex coming from behind the doors and ignore it for the most part as I get let into a room and handed a key. I close the door behind me and note that the room has seen better decades but it’s got a bed and a shower which is enough for me. I am lying on the bed for about thirty seconds before sleep takes over.

Waking up in a strange place is one thing but when someone is fucking with the door to your room it brings you up to do strange things. Like quietly bolt up and grab the silenced nine millimeter that you got last summer and had registered with all the appropriate paperwork in your name before getting back on the bed and waiting, mental note having a lawyer for a stepdad and a military dad is awesome. The door opens and a couple, man and woman, stagger in to see me sitting there with a pistol.

“Hi, I’m guessing someone gave you the wrong room key,” I state noting the Union cut on the man.

“What the fuck is this kid doing here,” the man asks the woman, both look to be in their late thirties.

“Honey we took the wrong key from Clarence, let’s just go back and get a different one,” the woman says pulling her man out of the room.

I watch them leave and close the door after themselves but shake my head, wrong fucking room indeed. I’ve only been asleep for a couple hours and settle right back in to my restful sleep on the old worn bed. My next wakeup call comes at seven in the morning as my phone starts going psycho, I answer it to find Kori calling.

“So maybe you didn’t hear us when we said call in daily and check in,” She states playfully.

“I’m sorry baby I’m in Idaho and was driving since I left till afternoon yesterday,” I tell her keeping her updated.

“So where are you staying,” She asks and I discover I’m on speaker phone.

I give her the details and we chat a little, school is going good and Ben has people keeping watch all over for our mystery female that attacked Maggie. All my girls are good and happy but worried since I’m all alone; I reassure them that things are fine and that I’ll be back on the road soon and hopefully in Wyoming by

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THE END