Into the Mouths of Babes

Baker was dead.

He lay where he fell, on the bank of the river, face down (thank God), with one boot under water. Shasta wanted to pull it out of the water, but getting that close to him would mean she might see what they'd done to him. There was no way she could deal with that. Hearing it had been bad enough.

The air was so still that sound traveled for miles. The rumble of traffic on I-22 floated to her on the breeze, along with the unmistakable deep bass poc-poc-poc of a motorcycle engine.

"Gotta be a Harley." she said, and started to cry. More than anything, she wanted to be on the back of it. To be in the normal world. To be free.

BC slid his arm around her, and she buried her face in his long hair, soothed by familiar smells. The lingering remains of his aftershave. His leather vest. Even his own musky scent.

He bent to kiss her. For those few seconds, he could relish her touch and let his mind drift away. He didn't have to think about the situation they were in. There'd be time enough later - too much time - to recall the slashing of the jagged-edged blades. The peeling. The screams.

"Is that all you two can think about?" Katt said, sarcastically. "BC, in case you haven't noticed, that's your buddy, Baker lying there, with his guts ripped out, while you cop a feel!"

BC rounded on her, but Nasty caught his arm, pulling him away.

"Hey man, you know where that talk's coming from." he said, quietly. "Just let it go, alright? Let it go."

BC took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Right, man. Everything's cool."

"Cool? COOL?" Katt yelled, with tears in her eyes. No, Mister, it is NOT cool. There is absolutely nothing cool about this at all!"

Her legs gave way, and Hitch eased her to the ground, cuddling her.

"It's not cool!" Katt told him, her voice hoarse and squeaky, as she sobbed. "It's not!"

"I know, baby." Hitch soothed. "BC knows, too. We're all scared, hon."

Katt nodded, vigorously. "Yeah, I'm scared, too. I want to go home."

"Second that." BC said.

"Ditto." Nasty said. "I gotta go to work in the morning."

The lunacy of his statement caught them all by surprise, and they found themselves laughing. Even Katt was giggling through her tears.

"Think you'd better call in sick, man." Hitch said, setting off another round of laughter.

"I'm going to have to make up a lie about this one, though." Nasty said, shaking his head. "The boss isn't going to believe the truth."

"I don't even think the police are going to believe this one." Gypsy said.

"Well, since Baker's plan didn't pan out," Katt said, with a catch in her voice, "which one of you is going to come up with the next plan?"

"Maybe Gabe got away." Shasta said. "Maybe the police are already on their way here."

"Don't count on it." Hitch said. "He's been gone too long, sweetheart. Even I could've walked to town and back, by now."

Shasta looked down. "So, you think they got him?"

"Yeah." he said, hoarsely. "Yeah, I do."

"Who the hell are they?" Nasty asked, in frustration.

"Who knows?" Hitch said. "Aliens? Psychotic kids? What does it matter?"

"It matters!" Gypsy said, angrily. "They've got us surrounded, and they're picking us off, one by one. If I've got to die, I want to know why!"
.....
For one reason or another, they'd all missed the Northern Bros Desert Run the previous weekend. Using the NBDR map, they headed out on their own Run, complete with camping gear, so they could take their time and explore some places off the beaten path, adding to the enjoyment of the trip.

It was on one of these side trips, through flat desert and lava rock, that they stumbled onto a hidden oasis in the hills, only a mile from the highway. A narrow river ran through shady trees, and the rolling hills that surrounded it gave them a feeling of isolation and privacy.

After setting up camp, they splashed in the river, happy to part with the grit and grime of the road. Soon the air began to cool as the sun dropped below the hills, and they crawled into their tents to sleep away the fatigue.

By BC's watch, it was after midnight when he spotted the fire.

A fire in a desolate area like this could mean big trouble. Range fires moved fast, and could cut off any avenue of escape. The desert they'd come through was strewn with boulders, brush and lava rock. If the road was cut off, the group's street bikes would have a rough time picking their way through it in the dark. They certainly couldn't outrun a fire.

Quickly scanning the area, BC almost missed the small flicker of light down the road. And as luck would have it, the flame was near the road they'd followed in.

His urgent cry of "Fire!" woke the others right away.

Baker, Joker and Gabe rode out with their camp shovels to see what they could do to stop the spread of the flames, while the others hurried to break camp.

BC felt uneasy, watching their taillights bobbing along the trail, as the Three Musketeers rode off to "save the peasants from certain doom."

Later, he wished that he would have called them back, to wait for the others. Would they have gotten away, if they'd left as a group?
.....
Shasta hadn't been riding long, and really didn't know the full extent of the danger they were in. But she was packing quickly, face set in grim determination, trusting her friends.

Only moments later, their activities were spotlighted in the wash of the returning headlights. Gabe pulled up - white as a ghost and shaking so badly, he couldn't get the kickstand down. On the fourth try, it worked, but as soon as he climbed off, the bike fell over. It never even registered in Gabe's brain. He just kept heading towards them, with his mouth hanging open.

When they saw Gabe's beloved Victory lying in the dirt - and the look on its owner's face - they knew they were in a world of hurt.

"They're killing people!" Gabe said, his words tumbling out in a hysterical rush. "They're some kinda witches or something!"

Baker ran up to them.

"That's right!" he said, pointing across the river. "They cut this chick's throat! We saw it. Just pulled her head back and...(he made a slashing motion under his own chin)."

"Blood shot out of her, man!" Gabe said. "I mean, one minute she was screaming, and then..."

"...and, that guy..." Baker started.

"Yeah! They had him tied to a tree." Gabe said. "This little guy took a wicked looking blade..."

"...it had spiky things on the edges..."

"Yeah, and he pushed it into the guy's chest, and started (he made sawing motions)...all the way down. And, the guy kept screaming, even when stuff was falling out of him!"

"Tell them about the leg." Baker said.

"What leg?"

"The one on the stick, over the fire." Baker said, turning to the group. "They were cooking it."

Gabe covered his face with his hands. "oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God..."

Hitch grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. "Gabriel! Get a grip!"

When Gabe pulled his hands down, it looked like he'd aged ten years.

"I didn't want to believe it was...part of a person...the toenails were painted..."

Baker said, "We've got to split, man! I mean, right now! Those freaks might have seen us."

"Wait a minute." Nasty said. "Where's Joker?"

Gabe and Baker paled, looking at each other.

"You left him there?" Nasty cried.

"No way!" Baker said. "He was right behind me. I heard his bike start."

"He was having trouble getting it started this whole trip!" BC said. "Why didn't you look?"

"I told you! I heard it start."

"But, you didn't bother to wait, to see if it kept running..."

"What are you trying to say, man?" Baker said, squaring off - his fright forgotten.

"You know exactly what I'm saying!" BC yelled.

"STOP it!" Shasta cried, holding her fists over her ears.

Katt rolled her eyes, while Gypsy joined the melee.

"S'cuse me, but how's all this going to get Joker back?"

"I'm going looking." Nasty said, glaring at BC and Baker, as he headed for his bike. "Anybody else coming?"

He'd gotten about 15 feet away when an eerie, melodious voice replied.

"Ah-eee know whar he izzzz..."

Nasty froze in place.

"I do, toooooo." said a voice, deep and threatening. It came from behind the group.

"Sooodoooweeeeeee!" Two voices blended in an unearthly harmony, so close to Shasta that she jumped.

"Do you want him back?" a smoky, older voice asked. "Then...HEEERRRE!"

The last word ended in a shriek, and before the sound died away, the group felt things falling on them. Gabe looked down to see what landed on his shoe. It was a hand. And, the pinky ring was undeniably Joker's.

Body parts, slick with blood, were flying at them from every direction. BC was hit in the chest with a boot, the foot still inside. Katt felt a wet slap against her cheek and saw an ear land in the dirt. Nasty watched Gypsy trying to disentangle herself from what appeared to be a length of intestine. Hitch was struck on the shoulder with Joker's head, his bloody hair splattering Hitch's face.

When the barrage stopped, the voices began again, from all around the sickened group.

"It had to happen, you know." the resigned voice said. "He saw."

"Yes, he saw." a squeaky voice said. "But, he wasn't supposed to!"

(No! the other voices whispered.)

"He was a bad grownup!" the threatening baritone said.

(Bad!)

"And bad grownups have to be punished!" said an angry voice.

(Yessssss!)

"So, you see, we had to punish him." Resigned said.

(Haaaaad to!)

A husky voice behind Gabe said, "...but, you saw, too!"

The voices hissed.

"So did you!" Baker heard a squeaky voice behind him say.

(Yoooooou!)

"You are bad grownups!" Baritone boomed.

(Yessssss!)

"You shouldn't meddle in children's affairs!"

(Sh-sh-shouldn't!)

"We'll be back to see justice done." Husky said.

"But we're tired now, and we have to eat." Resigned said.

"We saved the best parts for us!" Whispery giggled.

(hee hee hee!)

The circle of voices scattered to the hills, leaving only dust as proof of their existence.
.....
For the rest of the night, the group of terrified bikers could see small fires dotting the hillsides around them, gagging when they identified the cooked-pork smell of burning human flesh.

The unearthly voices called out to each other off and on, talking about the bad grownups and what they were going to do to them. The moonless night aided their psychological torture. The creatures were able to sneak up on them unnoticed. The group was pelted with human bones and unnerved by agonized shrieks from all around. Maniacal laughter. Slurping, chewing sounds. It was like being tormented by the demons of hell.
.....
By the time the first light of morning crept over the hills, Gabe had made his decision.

"I'm going, man." he told BC. "I can't sit here, waiting for those freaks to chop me up for lunch."

"Are you crazy? They've got us surrounded, dude! They'd grab you in a heartbeat."

"I don't think so." Gabe said, pointing. "When they had the fires going, there was a dark spot right there. Now that it's getting light, I can see that it's a pass. If I head through there, I can be at the highway before noon. Then, I can flag someone down and get help."

"Your Vulcan can't get through there." BC said. "There's no road. It's probably all rocks and chuck holes."

"I'm walking, man." Gabe said, heading to his bike. He unlatched one of the saddlebags and pulled out a pistol. "And, I'm taking my Protector with me."

"Why didn't you bring that out last night?"

"Because I've only got the ammo that's in the magazine, and it sounded like there were a lot more targets out there." he said, checking the safety before holstering it. "Firing this off might have caused them to retaliate sooner, and we didn't need more trouble."

BC reached out a hand and Gabe shook it, pulling him into a rough bear hug.

"Vaya con Dios, man." BC said.

"You, too."

Gabe turned to go, but came back.

"This is the most screwed up Run I've ever been on! I may never ride again."

BC chuckled. "I hear ya."
.....
Noon came and went.

Their captors kept the bikers on their toes all morning - sneaking around, shaking bushes, throwing things and muttering to each other.

The temperature was climbing and tempers flared. Katt and Hitch were bickering so much, they were getting on everyone's nerves. When Nasty started in on Gypsy, BC got up and walked away.

Shasta was sitting in their little dome tent, shaded from the sun, staring back down the trail. BC sat next to her and followed her gaze. Scavenger birds were circling the area where last night's massacre had occurred.

"I wonder who they were?" she said. "Were they people like us? Just tooling down the highway, looking for a nice place to camp?"

"I don't know. Could be."

Shasta opened her mouth to say something - thought better of it - then, tried again.

"This will probably sound weird, but all this time, I've been thinking, we don't deserve this. I mean...you know how a lot of people think bikers are just a bunch of rowdies?"

BC nodded.

"Well, this is going to sound morbid, but I keep seeing the newspaper headlines. 'Bad Biker Gang and Nice Vacationing People Murdered by Psychos.' " she said, turning to look at BC. "Do you see what I'm trying to say? It's like, who cares if the nasty old bikers get killed, but wasn't it a shame about those nice vacationers? I just figure that's what people are going to think when they read about it, over coffee and donuts."

"We're not going to die, girl." BC said, hugging her. "So, don't go worrying about what narrow-minded people are going to think."

"How do you know that?" she asked, searching his eyes.

He frowned.

"I don't know it. I guess there's no way I can know for sure. But, when I think about how long I waited before I met you, I just figure we've got to have more time together, that's all."

Tears filled her eyes, and she snuggled into his shoulder.

I've got to get her out of here, BC thought. There's got to be a way!
.....
By the time the evening clouds were streaked lavender, the hope that Gabe would return had disappeared.

BC disagreed.

"He had his gun with him. If the freaks got anywhere near him, we'd have heard shots."

"So, what do you think he did?" Nasty asked. "Just hitched a ride to town, and forgot about us?"

"No way, man! Gabe wouldn't just desert us."

"Then, what do you think?" Katt asked.

"Listen," BC said, "put yourself in this situation. You're scooting down the highway with the wife and kiddies. The brats are either fighting or they're whining, 'When do get there?' The wife's complaining because she thinks you've gotten them lost in the middle of nowhere.

"Then, on the side of the road, Big Bad Biker is trying to wave you down. Would you stop?"

"You bet I would!" Nasty laughed. "I'd hand him the keys and let him have the car and the family!"

"I'm serious, man."

"Yeah, I know." Nasty said, waving him off. "But somebody'd stop for him, sooner or later. I don't know...a trucker, maybe?"

BC shrugged.

"Could be, but what if no one did? He'd have to hoof it back to that last little hole-in-the-wall town we passed."

Hitch started to protest, but BC held up his hand to stop him.

"Let's say, he finally gets back to the town. You know how those little burgs are. Big Bad Biker stumbles into town ranting about psychos in the desert, killing his running partners...would you believe him? Would you even let him in, to use your phone? All I'm trying to say is, it might not have been easy for him to get people to believe him. Maybe that's why it's taking so long."

Baker sat on the ground, cross-legged, with his head down. When he looked up, his face as ashen.

"If all of what you say is true, that means we've got to spend another night out here, man." he said. "Do you dig? Another night listening to those crazies, talking and screaming, while we're waiting to be their next meal."

He stood, shaking his head, while his fists clenched and un-clenched.

"I can't do it, man. I can't! I gotta go now!" he said, heading for his bike.

"C'mon, Baker." Hitch called. "This is nuts. Think about what you're doing."

"I'm gonna ride like the devil." Baker called back. "And, if one of those loonies gets in my way, I'm gonna ride right over him!"

Those were his last words. Before his friends knew what was happening, the killers were on him.

Out of nowhere they appeared, laughing and shrieking. The biggest one was less than four foot tall, but their short stature didn't hinder their work. Pink, orange and yellow eyes stared from oval heads, while stubby arms subdued and disemboweled a man nearly twice their size.

Baker was surrounded so completely that his friends only had a view of his back, but that was enough. His body was jerked and shaken violently as the killers ripped open first his clothes, then, his chest. The creatures reached in and grabbed what organ they wanted, yanking it out, before running off. A fight broke out when two of them wanted the same part, but another creature deftly sliced it in half.

The remaining beasts pulled Baker to his knees and held him upright, while another plunged his blade into Baker's throat, pulling the knife up over his head until it made a perfect circle. Dropping his knife, he tore at the jagged edge of flesh. The sound was like that of contact paper being pulled from its backing sheet. The beast stood back and held his prize high in the air, for all to see. Baker's face.

When another creature tried to wrestle it away, the beast tucked it under his arm and fled. The remaining killers took what they wanted, and disappeared into the hills.

The attack lasted less than a minute.
.....
BC and Baker had been running partners since junior high, when the BMX bikes they rode had playing cards clipped to the frames with clothespins. Thinking about his friend, BC was sickened at the thought of him dying alone, only yards away from the group.

Wait! 'Alone.' He jumped up.

"Joker...Baker...maybe even, Gabe. They were alone when the psychos got them!" he said, turning to the others. "It might not work, but if we all left together - just jump on the bikes and ride, like Baker wanted - maybe we could get out of this!"

"There's just one problem with that idea." Hitch said. "There's too many of them, and the trail's barely wide enough for two bikes. All they'd have to do is swarm the lead rider, and that would bottleneck the road for the rest of us."

BC glared at the ground, hands on hips. Finally, he nodded.

"You're right, but there's got to be a way out!"

He gestured at Baker and at the small mound of rocks they had piled over Joker's remains.

"They have to be taken care of, man. They have to be buried. The camp shovels are too light for this clay. And even if they did work, do you want to listen to those monsters digging them up in the middle of the night?"

"I hear you, man." Hitch said. "And yeah, I'm sure we all agree. We have to go!"

"So, OK. In a nutshell," Hitch said, "we ride. The spooks are bound to attack us as soon as they hear the bikes start, so we have to move fast. We only take the clothes on our backs. No packing."

"Could we carry some sort of weapon?" Gypsy asked. "Like a big rock, or a stick?"

"Why not?" Hitch said. "Now, Katt and I will go first. My 1800's the biggest and the fastest. If they get in front of us, I might be able to plow a way through."

"That's it, then." BC said. "If you've got anything left to say or do, do it now. Otherwise, it's one-two-three-go!"

They headed for the bikes. Hitch held up a fist and counted 1-2-3 with his fingers.

"Go!" he yelled, and the wicked sounding engines roared to life.

Hitch pulled out, accelerating as fast as the dirt would allow. BC and Shasta were close behind.

"No!" Nasty yelled to Gypsy, keying his bike again and again. "I flooded it!"

They ran for Joker's Excelsior-Henderson, relieved to hear it explode into life on the first try. Gunning the throttle, Nasty speed-shifted for all he was worth, trying to catch up to the others.

Just then, dozens of the beasts appeared from the brush by the river, swarming up the hillside in front of them.

God, help us, BC thought. Maybe Nasty and Gypsy can get away while the freaks are after us. At least, someone will be alive to tell what happened. He poured on the throttle, determined to beat the killers to their appointed rendezvous.

Shasta moaned when she saw what was about to happen. Hugging BC tight, she pressed her face into his back.

"YAAAHHHHH!" Hitch yelled, above Katt's screams. Leaning forward, a sadistic grin on his face, he hollered, "C'mon, you little pukes! Time to meet your maker!"

The first of the monsters crested the road. Hitch swerved towards it, kicking it back down the hill, but when he tried to get the bike back on course, it started to wobble. They were nearly past the creatures, and he didn't want to lose any speed, but he had to let off the throttle to regain control before the turn up ahead.

It's a good thing he did. Coming out of the turn, he realized the road was blocked. Dozens of motorcycles were headed towards them! Gabe was on the passenger seat of the lead bike, a pistol in each hand. He waved them by and sped around them. Seconds later, they could hear guns blazing.

The Bros! BC thought, grinning from ear to ear. Gabe went and got the Bros!

Bike after bike rode past, and every one had a passenger loaded for bear. Less than 1/4 mile behind came a line of Highway Patrol and 4WDs, party lights blazing. One of them tried to wave Hitch over, but he shook his head and rode on, with BC hot on his tail.

They didn't stop until they got to the highway.
.....
The next day, the parking lot at the police station was filled to overflowing with heavy metal. Most of the Bros hung around outside, swapping 'war stories' and drinking soda pop (much to the citizen's relief).

Inside, BC, Shasta, Hitch and Katt finished giving their statements in time to welcome Nasty and Gypsy back from the hospital.

When the beasts had swarmed the road, Nasty ran right into them. The impact sent them both over the handlebars and through the air.

Everyone agreed that, despite their broken bones, they were lucky to be alive, landing that hard without helmets.

"No sweat!" Nasty said, with a fiendish grin. "We just landed on the psychos! They cushioned our fall."

The Bros helped Nasty and Gypsy into an SUV. When the four exhausted bikers had mounted up, they were escorted home by rolling thunder.
.....
At the campsite, the local police and Highway Patrol were sifting through the remains of man and beast. Using Gabe's directions, they found the site of the first massacre and the fire pits in the hills.

The county Coroner ran out of body bags, and had to return to town...twice. All totaled, they counted 83 dead - 4 humans and 79 of the creatures.

At nightfall, authorities sealed the area, leaving the rest of the work until morning. Officers Jensen and Carter were stationed at the trail's head to stand first watch. With the vehicles gone, the silence of the night settled on them.

"Creepy out here, isn't it?" Jensen asked.

"You're right about that." Carter said. "Especially with that pile of...whatever they are, lying there."

"Yeah, I'm glad they left the generator running for the floodlights. It'd be too weird in the dark." Jensen said.

"I wonder where those things came from?" Carter asked. "They look like alien kids. Except that one with the yellow eyes."

"You saw that, too?" Jensen asked. "Isn't that kind of unusual? Have you ever seen anyone with yellow eyes before?"

"Yeah, I did, actually. I used to work with an engineer named Leonard. The guy's eyes were gold. Same color as his hair."

"Strange."

"Yep."

Jensen looked at the yellow eyes again.

"I wish someone would have closed its eyes, though. It gives me the creeps, to have it staring at us like that."

"Well...?" Carter said.

"Well, what?"

"Go do it!"

"What???"

"What's wrong?" Carter asked. "You chicken? It's dead, fergawdsake!"

"I ain't chicken!" Jensen said. "I just don't want to catch any disease or anything."

"What?"

"Well, who knows what those things might have?"

"What a crock!" Carter said, shaking his head. Jensen was new to the force and still trying to prove himself, so Carter enjoyed teasing him.

Just do it and get it over with, Jensen thought to himself, and headed for the creature. It's probably the nicest thing that will happen to this kid. Somebody might decide to dissect him tomorrow.

The yellow eyes stared blindly at the distant hills. Jensen reached out, trying to appear brave. Inside, he felt like half-set jello, but he couldn't let his partner see that.

In the blink of an eye, his fourth and fifth fingers were gone. Blood flowed freely from the ugly stumps. Jensen cried out, stumbled backwards and nearly lost his dinner at the sight.

The 'dead' creature was looking at him. And, chewing. As Jensen watched, the band aid that he'd wrapped around his pinky finger that morning disappeared into the monster's mouth.

Carter took one look at Jensen's hand, un-holstered his gun and was talking on the 2-way radio, all in one fluid motion.

"This is Officer Carter. We have an officer down! Repeat, officer down! Do you copy?"

"Backup is on the way." the dispatcher said. "What is your situation?"

"Officer Jensen was attacked by one of those creatures! Extreme trauma to his right hand."

Seconds crawled by.

"Officer Carter. This is Cap. Take no chances. Kill the creature. Stay well away until backup arrives. Clear?"

"Copy that!" Carter said, turning to Jensen. "Hang in there, partner. Help's on the way."

Hurrying over to the pile, Carter took aim. As if the monster understood what was about to happen, it raised its hand in a defensive move.

"Mama?" it said, in a squeaky voice. "MAMA!"

A terrible, thunderous sound split the night air. The shock wave from it was so strong that Carter was thrown to the ground, while the shot he'd fired caromed off the lava rock, into the night sky.

Above the hills, the night was lit by a counterfeit sunrise half a mile wide, as thousands of the creatures spilled over the crest.