Chapter 28

Seth was feeling jubilant. In a matter of hours, the two dolts would deliver Tommy's tobacco pouch right to him, and within hours the chaos would begin to take hold. Soon, the worlds of men and gods would tumble, and he'd be able to step in and rule.

He got himself so excited about the possibilities that he had to go and pee.

He was a little anxious though. If things, somehow, went wrong it would be frustrating. Someone might see fit to send him back to the upper realms of Ra. Frankly, he was sick of being the voice of thunder. It would be best to leave that to the stupid blacksmiths, he felt. And he hadn't clawed and fought his way back to this world just to foul it up at the last minute.

He decided to go and see how his prisoner was feeling.

"Hello, Tommy," he said as he walked into the room he was keeping Tommy in. "How's your head?"

"How do you think it is, dink?" Tommy said.

"Oh Tommy, don't you know it hurt me more than it hurt you? To have a guest in my home trying to bring those fools here, it just breaks my heart," Seth said, then giggled. "Who am I kidding? It hurt you way more than it hurt me. In fact, I found it most entertaining. Perhaps you'll be so good as to give me an encore performance later today?"

"Fuck you, Seth," Tommy said.

"No, no, Tommy. You're the one who's fucked. You, and your friends, and your friends friends... oh, I have to pee again." Seth said, and left the room.

Tommy struggled half-heartedly to get free from his binds, but knew it was no good. He hoped Hep and the rest would find their way to him soon.

***

Once all the UTMCers had arrived at Dave's house, Hep took one of them aside and spoke quietly with him. Scroat saw Hep hand something to him, and then he walked over to where Scroat was waiting. The UTMCer left the house, and Scroat heard him as he started his bike and rode off.

"What the fuck was that about?" Scroat asked Hep.

"Just a contingency plan," Hep said. "So, are we ready to roll?"

The UTMC crew, Charlie, Minerva and Athena finished their coffees and conversations, and made their way out to the bikes. Today they would ride together, looking for a particular van.

As Hep started his bike, Dave walked over to him carrying a large book. The pages were all yellow, and Dave had a spot marked with his finger.

"So, you know, there's only a few scooter repair shops in Denver," Dave said and showed him the book. It was a copy of the yellow pages. The ad he was pointing to was for "Lammy Lenny's Scooter Repair." The tagline read "Look for our van!" and there was a picture of a seafoam green van.

Hep looked at Dave. "You're brilliant. And they're shockingly stupid."

"So it would seem," Dave said. "Shall we roll by their shop and see if anyone's home?"

"Oh yes, I think we shall," Hep said. Dave went back over to his bike and started it up. A couple of minutes later they were on their way through Denver to have a nice little chat with Lammy Lenny.

It didn't take long for them to find the shop, but the van wasn't outside, and it looked like the place was closed. They decided to park and wait for a little while.

About an hour later, a seafoam green Ford Econoline drove around the corner. As it got closer to where Hep and the rest were parked, the driver slowed down and looked at them. Suddenly he sat up straight, and stomped on the accelerator.

"Fuck, he's gonna run!" Scroat yelled. They rushed to get their bikes started again. Charlie was the first to get started and rolling, and was behind the van before he even made it to the end of the block. The rest followed soon after.

The driver of the van sped off, running red lights and making wild turns, trying to shake Charlie. Of course, a van doesn't handle nearly as well as a Ducati, and Charlie had no problem keeping up. To be honest, he was having the most fun he'd had on the whole trip.

Hep and the rest weren't too far behind, and were gaining on them quickly.

The van tried to make a hard right, but over-shot it and ran into a streetlamp on the far side of the road. The van came to a grinding halt. The driver, who was wearing a red shirt, threw open the door and tried to run, but Charlie was already there, and caught him before he was even out of the van.

"What's the rush, little man?" Charlie asked him. The driver struggled to get away, but Charlie overpowered him easily. Hep and the rest caught up and surrounded the van. Hep got off his bike and went up to the driver.

"Where's Tommy?" Hep asked.

"Fuck you!" the driver said.

"Oh, that's not the right answer. Scroat, maybe you could help him out here." Hep said.

Scroat punched the red shirt in the gut. "Where the fuck is Tommy?" he asked.

"Get bent."

Hep rolled his eyes. "Jim, maybe you can convince him to help us out."

The van driver looked around, trying to see who Jim was. Suddenly he felt very cold, and then Jim appeared in front of him. The driver stared, speechless.

"Hey buddy, ever been possessed by the ghost of a lumberjack and dragged screaming out of the roughest strip club in town after getting on stage with the girls and taking off your own clothes?" Jim asked, then smiled.

"Jesus, he's at Seth's house," the driver said.

"We're not looking for Jesus, we're looking for Tommy," Scroat said.

"He's at Seth's house, fuck, we took him there a couple days ago," the driver said.

Charlie shook the driver once, hard. "Where's Seth's house?" The driver looked at Charlie, then looked at Jim, and told Hep exactly how to get to Seth's house.

"Thanks. Was that so hard?" Hep asked. "Run on home now."

Charlie let go of him, and the driver took off running down the street.

Hep looked at Dave. "Well, let's go," he said.

***

Ian was busy riding north and east, towards Minnesota. Hep had given him a package and told him it was vitally important that he get it to Minnesota. Once there, he was to use the money Hep had given him to rent a safe-deposit box, and put the package in it. Then he was to wait in Minnesota for Hep to arrive.

He didn't really understand why Hep would want to send something all the way to Minnesota just to put it in a safe-deposit box when there were so many banks in Denver that were much more convenient. He did know, however, that Hep wouldn't have asked him to do it if it wasn't important.

So, he rode on along the major freeways, stopping only for gas, coffee and food.

***

Hep and the rest arrived at Seth's house within twenty minutes of catching the van's driver. They roared up the long driveway to a huge house, a mansion really. They got to the end of the driveway, and as they stopped, Seth came out the front door to greet them.

"Welcome!" Seth cried. "I was worried you weren't going to make it, but here you are, my old friends!"

"Where the fuck is Tommy, you sphincter-clinging piece of shit?" Scroat yelled.

"He's inside, of course, safe and happy. Well," Seth corrected himself, "safe anyway. Who are your friends, Hep?"

"You know exactly who they are, Seth," Hep said.

"Well, perhaps you'd like to meet my friends, then. Gentlemen, come out and introduce yourselves," Seth said. Suddenly there were red shirts coming out of every door, every nook and every cranny around Seth's house. They were armed with assault rifles and other implements of destruction.

There were easily eighty red-shirted goons pointing guns at them.

"Wow, Seth, is all this for us? You shouldn't have," Hep said.

"Oh, I couldn't resist, Hep. Now, I think you have something that I very much want. Please hand it over, and none of your friends will get hurt." Seth said.

"Our friends aren't going to get hurt, but I think your fuck buddies are going to be in for ten thousand years of pain, jerk off," Scroat said.

"I hoped you'd say that," Seth said. "Gentlemen?"

The red shirts opened fire.

"Holy shit!" Scroat yelled and dove for cover along with the rest of the UTMC. Hep and Charlie ducked behind their bikes, popping up to return fire, then ducking again. Minerva ran to the back of the group, while Athena walked calmly towards Seth.

The UTMCers were slowly gaining an advantage, as the red shirts were terrible shots. The UTMC crew, being honest, tax-paying, gun-loving American sons of bitches, were not bad shots. Soon there were a lot red shirted goons on the ground, some dead, others clutching at flesh wounds. The UTMCers began pushing their way forward.

Athena calmly approached Seth, who was waiting just outside the door of his house, watching. Although bullets occasionally grazed her leathers, or pushed through her hair, none hit her. Soon she was on the porch directly in front of Seth.

"Stop right there," he said, and pointed a gun at her. She smiled at him.

"Ok," then she handed him something surprisingly heavy. Seth looked down and saw that it was one of Charlie's home made bombs. He looked up and saw Athena running away.

"Shit," Seth said, and then the bomb went off. Seth was vaporized, and the goons nearby were knocked off their feet by the explosion. The red shirts still standing all stopped what they were doing to look at what happened. Then they scattered. Soon Hep and the rest heard two-stroke motors coming to life, and soon there were twenty or so scooters zipping past them on their way out to the road.

Amazingly enough, none of the UTMCers were seriously injured, though a couple of them had been grazed by bullets. It's good to have a couple of war gods on your side in a firefight.

Hep, Scroat and Charlie rushed into the house. The three of them over-powered the muscle-bound goon guarding the room, and cut the ropes restraining Tommy. They walked out of the house together. Minerva, Athena, Jim and the UTMC crew all cheered as they saw Tommy. Tommy smiled and waved.

"Thanks, pal," Tommy said to Hep.

"Of course. But don't do it again," Hep said, and slapped Tommy on the back. They began walking towards their bikes.

Then they heard a shot fired behind them. Scroat stopped walking and looked down at his chest. Blood poured from a hole that hadn't been there before.

"Oh, fuck!" Scroat exclaimed, and fell down, dead.

Dave shot the red shirt who was clutching a still-smoking gun pointed at Scroat. The red shirt fell back to the ground.

Hep and the rest gathered around Scroat. Jim started looking around, as though he expected to see someone.

"Where the hell is he?" Jim asked Hep.

"Back home," Hep said. He stooped down, and rolled Scroat over onto his back, and arranged his legs and arms so he lay naturally. Finally, he closed Scroat's eyes.

Charlie tucked a bottle of rum under Scroat's arm, then they covered him with leaves and branches. Charlie lit a match, and said "Go well, friend," then threw the match onto the pyre. It roared to life immediately, and soon there was nothing left but smoldering embers where their friend had laid before.

"See you round, Scroat," Hep said.

They left Seth's yard, and started heading for Minnesota. Most of the UTMC crew stayed in Denver, but Dave and Too Tall accompanied Hep, Charlie, Jim, Minerva and Athena.

There was still a matter to attend to.