Highway Disciple

By Dan Lee

After the tragic death of Lenny (Leopard) Richardson’s wife, the outlaw motorcycle club member was at his breaking point. Through a series of life-threatening events that transpired on his motorcycle journey from Phoenix, Arizona, to Treasure Valley, Idaho, a traveling minister at a roadside church in the desert helped Lenny discover a way to put his dreadful life and sinful past behind him and use his motorcycle as a tool to spread the Word of God to the rest of the world. But positive changes in his life would not come without resistance from the outlaw club Lost Rabbles, law enforcement, and the new people that he met, and not even his faith in Jesus would be able to stop the grave threat that continued to pursue him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 22, 2021
• ISBN: 9781643505459

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Highway Disciple

Dan Lee

Copyright © 2021 Dan Lee

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2021

ISBN 978-1-64350-544-2 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-64350-545-9 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 1

Awarm gust of wind blew in from the Arizona desert, forcing the moon and stars to play a game of peek-a-boo through the low torn blanket of clouds moving across the night sky. The inconsistent sounds of passing motorists echoed from the far end of the alley, bouncing off the exterior walls of the crowding buildings all the way up to the front of the alley as the crinkle of newspapers and clanking of empty aluminum beer cans traveled between the old buildings made of brick and deteriorating stucco, covered with gang-style graffiti, probably to mark the territory of the rival gangs in a battle to claim the alley as their own turf.

A brave field mouse hustled down the edge of the alley, maneuvering its little body around trash and debris as it raced along the base of the building wall, seeking refuge from the presence of a crouched black, brown, and white stray cat with matted fur that looked like a child had attacked it with glue and a pair of scissors that had chosen its dinner through a tear in a thin plastic trash can liner lying in a green metal dumpster. The predator’s purrs and faint growls of satisfaction echoed off the walls of the metal box as it consumed the waste from the Chinese food restaurant that prided itself on serving Chinese food prepared in the traditional Chinese way. The aromas of the teriyaki, pork, and chicken filled the alley, tickling the noses and tempting the stomachs of a group of men dressed in black leather, gathered around a large inverted metal trash can doubling as a makeshift table. The men reeked of body odor from a hot day in the desert, mixed with booze and marijuana as they passed around a bottle of cheap whiskey while toking on Acapulco Gold from southwestern Mexico wrapped in small rolls of paper.

A lone guard at both ends of the alley kept a close eye out for law enforcement or gangsters who may make trouble along with special instructions to take whatever action was necessary to protect the others while they engaged in their illegal transactions. Silhouettes in the shape of men moved around among themselves as a single beam glowed from a metal law enforcement–type flashlight, being held high by one of the men present witnessing the transaction. A tall man weighing over two hundred pounds with a little patch sewn to his worn-out vest, over his right peck, that read Sergeant at Arms asked in a low, friendly voice to another as he unbuckled the sun-beaten saddlebag, So, Leopard, how was your ride?

It wasn’t too bad, really hot this time of year.

No problems on the way down then?

Not really.

Well, Leopard, I have a little problem, and I have to say that I am not taking the problem that we have here very well. I have no other way to look at it except that there is a complete misunderstanding or just plain ole carelessness on your part.

Instantly, Leopard responded with an attitude. What the heck are you talking about, bro? What did I do wrong this time? With over a dozen transports down here in the past two years, everything has always been kosher. If anything is missing, then take it up with your brother. He packed it in the saddlebags, and you are the first one to open them.

The angry man picked up the saddlebags with both hands and slammed them back down onto the inverted trash can to demonstrate his strength and power of authority as he snarled, That attitude doesn’t go over with me very well, Leopard. You would definitely be wise as to take caution in your tone considering that I have absolutely no patience or use for you.

Leopard snickered. Seems to me, Dagger, that you have just a little bit more of a problem than just me. If you want to talk about consideration, why don’t you consider my risk and what I must look forward to every single time I ride down here, because there always seems to be some kind of a problem with you and your panties being in a twist. And quite frankly, Dagger, I don’t need your crap right now.

The other men overlooking the transaction began to whisper and make comments about Leopard’s disrespectful response. Man, he is messing with the wrong guy, a comment from another member. Someone needs his skull cracked. Among other comments.

Dagger shook his head quickly multiple times as he stared at Leopard. Well, first of all, Leopard, I am not your freaking bro. Second of all, you were late, and I don’t have the time to be screwing around with a smart-mouth, disrespectful transporter from Idaho right now.

Leopard scratched his head and let out a sigh. Are you kidding me, Dagger? It’s the Fourth of July weekend, for crying out loud, what do you expect with societies zombies cruising around in their cages going on vacation?

Dagger buckled the saddlebag back up and snarled. Understand this, Leopard, that is not my problem. Perhaps you should have left earlier. You see, I don’t like to wait for anyone. If I can be on time, it is what I expect in return. It is up to you to know and understand that I will wait five extra minutes for my wife because she is the broad who married me, and she learned early in our marriage to not be late when she is meeting me. I will also wait ten extra minutes for the club president, because he earned that position and my respect along with it, but I would be dipped in burning oil if you think I am going to wait almost an hour for some transporter from Idaho. I wish my brother would just get his head out of his butt and send someone who knows what the heck he is doing. All you had to do was pull over and call me, or did you forget that these are not the old days anymore? We all carry cell phones.

Leopard threw his arms up and responded with a tone, Man, we’ve been there, done that, but you don’t answer your dang phone. Besides, you are complaining about wasted time, but it seems like you are just wasting more time with all this jibber jabber. If you have a problem with me being prompt or any other problem with me, then perhaps you should come pick up the merchandise yourself next time, and I could be enjoying myself at a barbecue right now. Leopard could see the fire in Dagger’s eyes when he turned and grabbed Leopard by the neck. Dagger reached inside the pocket of his leather jacket, pulling out a stub nose, nickel-plated .38-caliber revolver, pointing the barrel point-blank to Leopard’s forehead.

Like I said, you would be wise as to watch your tone around me and my brothers. We may wear the same Lost Rabble patches, but you are not from my club, and I am in charge right now. You are completely invaluable and worthless to me, like you always have been, Leopard. You may as well wear different colors. Dagger let go of the lone rider. So now that we have a complete understanding of where you stand with me and what you are worth to me, why don’t you tell me what you brought me?

Leopard got a very disrespectful smirk on his face and snarled. Everything that you and Gritty spoke about on the phone, I suppose. You should know that if you would just stop all your jibber jabber and open the dang saddlebags, for crying out loud. It’s getting late, and I want to hit the road.

Dagger shook his head while baring his teeth. There goes that mouth again, dipstick. I will tell you this, you lowly hillbilly. Gritty and I are brothers from the same mother and best friends on top of that. I trust him because he is blood and has never let me down before. Now you, I don’t really know. You came along after I started this chapter and I couldn’t care less that I never had the opportunity to get to know or ride with you. So with that in mind, if any of this is short, I am coming after you, not my brother, but you. Dagger’s patience was running thin, and the unsteadiness of the light was not helping the situation. He shouted, Dang it, prospect, hold that light steady, for crying out loud, Irishman, it’s giving me a headache!

Oh, sorry, Dagger, my arm was just getting tired.

I don’t want to hear it. I have very little patience, at the moment, dealing with this dipstick. Leopard and Irishman made strong eye contact, but the stare-down was interrupted by Leopard’s chuckle.

Jeez, Dagger, seems like you have some serious problem tonight. So before you go too far over the edge, maybe you should just take a breather and look in the saddlebags, and maybe, just maybe, what you and Gritty agreed on is in there, because I don’t have time for you or your jibber jabber. For all I know, Dagger, is that you may be trying to screw me over. I mean, am I supposed to be trusting you? He laughed. I don’t think so. And just so you understand, I am from the founding chapter, and you once were too. I don’t need your intimidation or your threats. If I had a buck for every time some jerk pointed a gun at me, I would be sitting on a beach in the Bahamas drinking piña colada’s with sexy tanned women all around me. I really don’t care if you are the new sergeant at arms down here in the desert or not. Quickly Leopard pulled his pistol from the holster slung under his shoulder from inside his vest and pointed it at Dagger’s forehead. Leopard’s face lost all expression as his breathing began to become more rapid, sucking air in through his mouth and exhaling through his nose. He turned and tilted his head back, looking down his cheek with wide, angry eyes before whispering, I have one too, but the difference between you and me, Dagger, is that I am not afraid to use mine.

A voice from the crowd shouted, Whoa, whoa! Leopard, let it go, dude.

But Leopard continued to stand his ground. He was like a pit bull and would not show weakness or defeat. He blinked a couple of times and said, Don’t you ever point a gun at me again, Dagger. People like you give us real bikers a bad name. You all demand respect but offer none. You make me sick.

Leopard heard a click and felt the poke of a gun barrel against the back of his head. A voice whispered, And so do I. Now let it go.

Leopard lowered his gun and said, I am so sick and tired of this tough biker crap.

Dagger raised his voice. You only brought this on yourself, dipstick.

Suddenly, a voice of authority coming up the alley demanded, Let it go, Dagger. We have business to attend to.

Dagger shoved Leopard out of his way. I’ll deal with you later, dipstick.

The same voice of authority responded. I said to let it go, and I mean now. And time for you to go, Mr. Idaho.

Suddenly the beam from the flashlight disappeared. The men walked away, leaving Leopard by himself.

Leopard hollered, Hey, Dagger!

Dagger turned around and asked, What is it now, dipstick?

Leopard chuckled, then his face instantly dropped to a dead stare, and he said, Those are my saddlebags. Take the merchandise and go, but leave me my bags.

Dagger stormed toward Leopard. I am going to kick your head like a football all the way back to Idaho.

The man with the voice of authority stepped in front of Dagger and demanded, Dang it, Dagger, we don’t need this crap right now. Take the merchandise, put it in your own dang saddlebags, and give Mr. Idaho back his saddlebags, and while you are at it, Dagger . . . Grow up.

Leopard had been involved with transporting merchandise for the Lost Rabble for some time now. He preferred carrying the merchandise in old beat-up saddlebags. His way of thinking was that he just looked like a typical biker cruising down the highway on a black soft-tail-type chopper raked out with a six-inch over Springer front end, and nobody ever gave him a second thought except that he was just a typical piece of trash biker that people hoped would just pass on through.

Moments later, another member brought Leopard back his saddlebags and dropped them at his feet as Leopard reached out to grab for them. Leopard shook his head with a smirk and reached into his vest pocket, retrieving his cell phone. After pushing a couple of buttons, he placed the phone to his ear and listened before responding. It’s done. Then he hung up while walking off. He slowly and cautiously walked to the end of the alley as he heard the group of motorcycles start up. Right before he reached the sidewalk, he stopped to watch the packs of bikers ride away. He listened to the engine of the machines as they caught speed and found the next couple of gears while making their way, rumbling down the city streets, vibrating the windows of the buildings with their deep-throated exhaust and setting off car alarms. He turned around to head back to his own bike but was startled by the prospect standing there.

The prospect was intimidating to the average man, standing six feet, six inches tall, weighing at about 220 to 230 pounds of lean muscle, and looking very physically fit.

The prospect took a quick step forward, forcing Leopard to reach inside his vest and grab his pistol. Quickly he pointed it at the prospect’s head and said, Go for it, dude. I’ve already lost everything. I have nothing more to lose. In case you weren’t listening to what I told Dagger because you were too busy shining the flashlight into one ear and trying to see the beam coming out the other. He pulled the hammer back with his thumb and said, As I told Dagger, I am not afraid to use this, so if you want to limp, then take another step. Otherwise, turn around and go find your club.

The prospect knew that his opponent was serious but also knew what was at stake for himself. I can’t do that, Leopard. I have orders to pound you, and that is what I intend to do.

Leopard knew that he didn’t have a chance one on one, so he decided to mess with the prospect’s mind. It looks like you work out a little bit, what’s your name, prospect?

What I do and what my name is, is none of your concern, but if you need to address me, you can call me Irishman.

Lenny smiled. Okay, Irishman. Why do they call you that?

Irishman felt the need to be sarcastic to the ignorant question. Maybe because I am Greek, I really don’t know.

Leopard shook his head and said, Well, Greek Irishman, this can end two ways. One, you could hop on your sled and ride away, or two, I can make sure that you limp for the rest of your life, and you could forget about ever doing squats again.

The tall redheaded, well-shaped man could see the sincerity in his opponent’s eyes reflecting off the single light bulb burning on the kitchen entrance of the Chinese food restaurant. He stepped back and stated, I can’t just leave like that. I better have blood on my knuckles when I meet up with the others, your blood, and then I get my patch.

Are you kidding me? You mean to tell me that you will limp for the rest of your life just so you can get your patch? Trust me, it’s not worth it, Irishman.

It’s worth it to me, and that is all that really matters, he said as he stepped toward Leopard. But Leopard quickly fired a shot in the air and said, I will shoot you, prospect, the choice is yours. Have you ever been shot before? It does not feel very good.

Irishman yelled back at him, What am I supposed to do then? I am supposed to pound you and have blood on my knuckles to prove it.

Lenny smiled and tilted his head. That gives me an idea, kid.

What?

Stop by the grocery store, buy a steak.

What the heck are you talking about? I am not freaking hungry, he replied angrily.

Leopard laughed. No, no, you dump puppet. Do you know those blood-absorbing pads under the steaks?

Irishman looked at Leopard with an expression of confusion on his face. Yeah, so?

So scrape your knuckles against the wall a couple of times and squeeze the blood out on to your hands.

Irishman backed his head off and looked at Leopard like he was out of his mind. That’s gross, man, I mean gross.

It’s either that and make Dagger think that you followed his orders and get your patch, or I shoot you and maybe you will get your patch after you end up in the hospital and the police question you why you have a bullet in your kneecap. The choice is yours, prospect.

He shook his head and replied, You are a screwed-up individual, Leopard.

Leopard chuckled and said, Your choice.

Come to think of it, that’s a good idea, but I do promise you, Leopard, this is far from over. As Dagger said, you made a real big mistake by pulling a piece on him and now on me.

Enough with the jibber jabber, prospect.

You just remember that you better not say a word about this.

It’s getting late. I’d like to get to the hotel and get some rest before riding back tomorrow.

I will see you again, Leopard. He turned around and walked off. Leopard kept a hawk’s eye on him as he made his way to the other end of the alley before disappearing. He listened for the prospect’s engine start-up and pulled away before stepping over to his bike. He threw the saddlebags over the back seat and plopped down into the saddle before he said out loud, This is not going to go over too well when it gets back to Gritty. Man, I hate this crap.

Leopard sat as he listened to the motorist pass by. Hoping that he wouldn’t hear motorcycles returning, he reached down, grabbing hold of the chrome switch mounted on top of the fuel tank. The headlight lit up the alley like day with a quick twist of his wrist. The lone rider pushed the start button with his thumb and felt a sense of comfort or even relief when the machine fired up. Pulling the grip back toward him with his right hand, he listened and felt the power of the V Twin as it echoed through the alley. His other hand slowly squeezed the clutch lever, disengaging the clutch and allowing him to kick the transmission into gear before slowly rolling forward to the end of the alley. Cautiously, he looked to his left but noticed two Chinese men standing out in front of the restaurant smoking cigarettes. Before slowly releasing the clutch with his left hand and twisting back on the throttle he turned right onto the city street. He caught speed as he shifted through all the gears on the six-speed transmission. Suddenly his engine lost power. He continuously twisted back on the throttle, hoping to get the engine to pick up and smooth out, but to his disappointment, the engine shut down, forcing him to coast around the corner onto a side street where he was hoping that he would be safe if Dagger and his thugs returned. The motorcycle came to a stop at the entrance of another alley. With adrenaline and fear racing through his veins, his mind was about to explode when his attention was drawn to an activity taking place down the alley. He strained through the darkness as he tried to listen and watch what looked to be the walking dead, or the local bums, standing encircled around a metal drum, laughing as they seemed to be exchanging stories about their past lives and their new lives as forgotten soldiers, fathers, husbands, and the great homes and jobs they once had. The stench of body odor, urine, and alcohol clinging to the summer night breeze provided a sickening mixture that would be sure to turn one’s stomach. The men cussed and presented anger toward one another as they passed around a brown paper bag containing a cheap bottle of red wine, funded by their begging and panhandling for spare change, thriving on the guilt of the people who were trying to make an honest living. They pushed and shoved as they were trying to absorb the radiating heat of a rusted metal drum scarred with many bullet holes and decay that burned with a foul stench and bright orange ashes that might at one time have been the local newspaper left on a park bench or an outdated magazine that was thrown away by the newsstand owner as well as other decomposing garbage that once flooded the surrounding city streets.

Leopard’s heart rate began to slow as he panned around at the surroundings that he found himself in the middle of. He focused in on a glow of quivering neon, flickering through a weather-beaten window and dancing on a confrontation between two men standing outside a dive-type bar merely yards from him. Curious of the conversation, he tried to block out all other sounds except the two men as one of them was yelling at the other.

Are you crazy or something? Are you out of your freaking mind?

No! You are out of your freaking mind, dude! My buyers are beyond mad. That stuff that you are selling me is cut and you know it. Are you on drugs or something? Are you doing what you are selling? Sooner or later these guys are going to demand their money back, but I don’t have anything to give them ’cause I’m the one getting screwed here. I’ve been doing business with you for over two years. You got to get your head out of the clouds, man, this is big, I mean big time, baby.

First of all, you need to keep it down. And you have a heck of a nerve to be coming at me like this, but I will let this little incident fly this time. Because I admit I wasn’t perfectly honest with you, but if you try and screw me back, I am going to kill you. I am going to kill your girlfriend and anyone else related to you just for the aggravation you caused me.

How do I know that I can even trust you now?

You don’t, but it doesn’t look to me like you have much of a choice now, do you?

The two men parted and stormed off in opposite directions. As one walked by the stranger sitting on his motorcycle, he snarled. What are you looking at, jackass?

Leopard grinned and shook his head in disgust. He mumbled to himself, Man, I hate this. This is not where I need to be anymore. I need to get out. I can’t do this anymore.

He began looking down at his bike when a woman dressed in very revealing clothing approached him and stated in a soft, seductive voice, Hello, handsome, I’m Jewel. It’s been a long time since I have been on a motorcycle. I need to get to Mesa. What do you say that we trade a ride for a ride?

Leopard just stared at the woman for a moment and shook his head before shifting his body from side to side in hopes of recognizing the issue with the bike. He looked up at the woman when he noticed an unfamiliar sight, then he mumbled, One of them must have shut off my fuel. I can’t believe it.

What? she asked with a tone.

He reached down with his left hand and twisted the fuel back to the flow position. To his expectations, the bike immediately fired up when he pushed the start button. Jewel tapped him on the shoulder. So can I get a ride?

He said, Are you kidding me? Call a cab. He kicked the transmission into gear, ripping away, leaving the lady of the night behind.

He wasted no time heading north even though he heard the president of the club tell Dagger that they had business to tend to. Leopard had no idea where or how long the business would take. But he was taking no chances and felt that it would be best to get out of town. He found himself frequently looking in his side-view mirrors and even going as far as looking behind him over his shoulder. Leopard wasn’t a paranoid man; he just knew he pushed Dagger pretty far and knew that the family that Dagger and Gritty came from wasn’t one to be on the bad side of. Faster and faster he rode to escape the threat of Dagger and his clan, reaching a speed of one hundred miles per hour once he made it to the open highway heading north into the desert.

The lonesome road ahead was as dark as a cavern deep within the depths of oblivion as the rider took a route that he had never taken before but was aware of in the back of his mind as an evading route from the law or other threats. He felt that it would be safer just in case Dagger and his army was waiting for him along his normal route. He chuckled to himself when he realized that the others were probably checking local hotels near the interstate in search for him.

Further and deeper he rode into the blackness as the bright lights of the city slowly evolved into a glow in the sky, leaving the mountains’ and hills’ silhouettes to his back. The pungent smells of aromatic terpenes and oils exuded from the native plants and animals lingered in the dry chilled air. Chirping crickets echoed through the blackness in an attempt to attract a potential mate as the mating calls traveled from every direction throughout the sleeping wasteland.

Leopard was unable to distinguish through the darkness and his speed how much time had passed except for the needle on the fuel gauge that got closer and closer to empty. He wasn’t surprised that there was no sign of Dagger or the other members of the club, but what left him uneasy was that there weren’t any other vehicles in either direction for miles. Eventually, a slow sense