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Stratosfear
Stratosfear
Stratosfear
Ebook236 pages3 hours

Stratosfear

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Being an outlaw for many years, I took fact and fiction and mixed it up...and here you go.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMay 14, 2024
ISBN9798891577640
Stratosfear

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    Book preview

    Stratosfear - Brandon Weber

    cover.jpg

    Stratosfear

    Brandon Weber

    Copyright © 2024 Brandon Weber

    All rights reserved

    First Edition

    PAGE PUBLISHING

    Conneaut Lake, PA

    First originally published by Page Publishing 2024

    ISBN 979-8-89157-751-0 (pbk)

    ISBN 979-8-89157-764-0 (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 21

    Chapter 22

    Chapter 23

    Chapter 24

    Chapter 25

    Chapter 26

    Chapter 27

    Chapter 28

    Chapter 1

    The night sky was dark and gloomy. Thick clouds covered the stars, making it even darker. As Don and Bobby rode side by side down the highway, they let their bikes take their own easy pace. The sound of their passing bounced off the high mountain walls, sweeping them around the curves in the road like they were a part of their iron steeds.

    They came to a tunnel and poured on the gas. The effect was deafening. Like thunder, the sound rocked the whole tunnel. They shot out the other end like a couple of bullets from a gun and swept through another turn. Their headlights pierced the night like sharp knives.

    Don looked over at Bobby and motioned with his hand that he wanted to pull over and have a smoke. They found a turnout and pulled in, and when they shut off the bikes, the silence was eerie. Then one by one, the crickets began to sing all around them.

    Damn, Bobby, I thought you were gonna run all the way to Las Vegas without stopping! said Don as he swung his leg over the seat of the bike and sat sideways on the saddle.

    Bobby swung his leg over his bike and stood up and stretched. Hell, brother, I was waiting for you to stop!

    They both laughed as they pulled out their smokes and lit up, inhaling deeply then blowing it out. It was so dark they could only make each other out by the red cherry of the smokes.

    Bobby was looking toward the sky. I sure wish this weather would clear up. I got real close to running off the road back there. Some of those turns scared the shit out of me!

    I hear that! said Don.

    Before he could speak again, the sound of two gunshots rang, but it seemed to come from a small hill they had seen as they pulled into the turnout. They both jumped damn near out of their skin.

    What the hell! they both said at the same time.

    Don leaped to his feet. Man, I didn't like the sound of that, Bobby!

    Me neither! said Bobby in a shaky voice.

    The sound of something began to crash down through the brush above them. They had a hard time making out the landscape but could tell it was headed their way.

    Put that smoke out! Don said in a quiet voice.

    They both put a boot to their smokes as the sound continued toward them and stopped with a thump not far from the front of their bikes.

    Shit! What the hell is that? Bobby said in a shaky voice.

    They could just make out a dark lump on the ground. Don started to walk toward it, and Bobby stayed by his bike, ready to jump on and get the hell out of there.

    What are you doing, Don? asked Bobby, not wanting to know what it was that Don was doing.

    Don was standing over the lump now. He pulled his lighter from his pocket and flicked it. The flame was just enough to let Don see that a man lay there.

    Hey, Bobby, it's a man. Turn on your headlight so I can see better.

    Bobby was just about to turn it on when they heard voices high above them.

    Where'd he go?

    Shit, I don't know, but I know I got his ass!

    What do we do now?

    Let him die! We should get out of here. Whoever came along with those headlights is still out there!

    Don and Bobby could hear the sound of brush being walked through then the sound of car doors being shut and a motor starting. The car from somewhere above them drove off into the night.

    Okay, Bobby, turn your headlight on.

    As the headlight came back on, Don found himself looking down on the man. He had on dark clothes, but Don could still see where blood was soaking through. The man began to move and then groaned.

    Oh god! he said.

    Don leaned down. Hold still, buddy, you look like you're hurt bad.

    Bobby walked up and stood behind Don.

    Help me get him up, Bobby. They both got ahold of his arms and sat him up.

    Ahhhh! the man managed to groan.

    Sorry, buddy, but we need to get you over by the bikes where I can get a better look at you! said Don.

    They set him on the bike's seat. Then as Don started to pull his shirt over his head, a deep gash opened across his forehead, blood running down his face. As he got the shirt off, he could see where a bullet had gone through his side. Blood ran down his side and onto his pants. Don looked at his back and found a large hole where the bullet had gone out. Don dug down into his saddlebags and pulled out a small first aid kit.

    Looks like someone wanted you dead! said Don.

    Looks like they missed, the man said with clenched teeth.

    Don was wiping the wound as best he could.

    We need to get you to a doctor, said Don.

    Just get me to Carson City. I'll take it from there.

    It's your ass! said Don. He finished putting a bandage on the man's side then helped him put back on his shirt.

    My name is Tim, the man said, holding out his hand.

    I'm Don, and this is Bobby. Bobby took his hand.

    Glad you two came along! They might have finished me off!

    Don took a headband out of his pocket and wrapped it around Tim's head. There you go. That should keep you from bleeding to death.

    What were they shooting at you for? asked Bobby.

    Let's just say they thought I was a deer.

    Good enough for me, said Don. Let's get going before they decide to do some more hunting! Don and Bobby climbed on their bikes.

    You can ride with me, said Don.

    Tim climbed on the back, wrapping his arms around Don. He had never been on a Harley before, and as the bike came to life, he held tight.

    Take it easy, Tim. I won't lose you!

    They headed toward Carson City, taking it slow and easy so Tim wouldn't be bounced around too much. The wind came up and began to gently push the clouds away from the mountains. The stars came out and began to fill the sky. They rode for some time before seeing the first lights from town. They came to the edge of town where a restaurant sat back away from the road, and they pulled up out in front, right next to a phone booth.

    I'll take it from here, Tim said as he climbed off the back.

    You sure? asked Don.

    You two have done plenty. I can't thank you enough for saving my ass back there!

    Tim held out his hand. Don took it. Tim's grip was strong, and Don liked that.

    You too, Bobby, thanks a lot! Tim shook Bobby's hand and headed toward the phone.

    Well, Bobby, let's get home, said Don.

    I'm all for that! said Bobby.

    They put their bikes in gear and headed back toward Vegas. As they pulled away, Tim was talking to someone on the phone. He turned and watched as they pulled away, and he could see the name of a bike shop on the backs of their leathers. It read Iron Horse—Las Vegas.

    He finished his conversation and hung up. He found a bench just outside the front door and sat down. His head was pounding, and his side hurt like hell. Not more than a few minutes passed when a large stretch limo pulled into the parking lot right next to him. The driver got out and ran over to Tim, helped him to his feet, and over to the car. He opened the rear door, and Tim climbed into the back and stretched across the seat. The driver never said a word. He closed the door and ran back around to the driver's side, jumped in, and sped off into the night.

    Chapter 2

    Don and Bobby rode hard and fast. The sky had cleared up, making the ride more enjoyable. The stars and moon lit the sky as the trees gave way to the desert, and as the trip neared the end, they were both lost in their own thoughts.

    The sun began to rise, and the sky turned from dark to gray then began to turn blue. The first thing they saw in Vegas was the Stratosphere Tower. It loomed high above the rest of the city. Soon they could see the whole valley and began to pour on the gas, wanting to get to the shop before the tourists started to jam up the roadways. They took the sweeping turn that led from I-95 to I-15 and headed for the Sahara Exit.

    As they came down the ramp, the light turned green, and they leaned into the turn and shot down Sahara. They crossed over the bridge and swept into another turn that led to Industrial Road, which ran in back of the casinos on the west side of the Strip.

    There were mostly industrial shops that were the heart of Vegas; they kept Vegas running smoothly and a lot of people working. There were some bars here and there: titty bars for the workers, dirty bookstores for the dirty, and homes to the homeless. Few tourists saw this part of Vegas, and when they did, they wished they hadn't. This part of town was tough, the bars were dirty and the girls that hung out in them not much better, but Don and Bobby liked it just the same. That's why they rented a building here for their shop, the Iron Horse Custom Bike Shop. The rent was cheap, and everyone knew who they were. The shop faced the street, right next to a bar called the Pussy Petter, a titty bar for the biker crowd and anyone brave enough to wander in. When they did, they usually met up with some of the best con artist in town.

    As they rode toward the shop, several homeless people waved at them as they passed. Don and Bobby would hand out food on the holidays and blankets that they picked up from used wholesale stores.

    They pulled in front of the shop, backed the bikes to the curb, and shut them down. Don stood up, swung his leg over the bike, and stretched his back. Then he headed toward the front door of the shop.

    The front of the shop had glass windows and glass doors so people could look inside. The windows were covered with iron bars and the doors with metal screens and a big lock. All to keep the thieves, and their fellow bikers, honest.

    He slipped a key into the lock and opened it then slid the screens to the side. He took out another key and turned off the alarm then opened the doors and stepped inside. The front was wide and large enough to hold three custom Harleys and two large glass cases that held all kinds of riding goodies and chrome parts. As he stood there making sure everything was in its place, Bobby walked in behind him.

    Everything here? asked Bobby.

    Looks like it, said Don.

    Don walked over behind the glass cases and flipped on the showroom lights. The three Harleys that sat there sparkled like new. Their paint was custom designed by Bobby, and the motors were designed by Don. Each one had a different style to it, but one was just as beautiful as the next.

    They headed down the hallway that led to the shop area. The hallway was short; it only went ten feet or so. There was a bathroom with a shower off to the left, and to the right was the office. The end of the hall opened to the shop.

    Don flipped on the shop lights as they both entered. The shop was forty feet long with a large sliding back door. It was equipped with everything they needed to build and customize bikes. They both looked around to make sure everything was in place. Nothing looked as though it had been moved. Long workbenches ran the full length of the shop. Six bikes sat waiting to be worked on. Three roll-away toolboxes sat where each of them liked to work.

    Bobby walked over to where the coffeepot sat on the end of the workbench.

    Want some coffee, bro? he asked as Don headed toward the back of the shop.

    Sounds good to me, said Don as he began to raise the big sliding back door. The door banged at the top, and morning sunlight came flooding in to the work area.

    As Don turned to go back inside, he heard a bike turn into the alley and pour on the gas. The sound was familiar. There could only be one bike that sounded like that! Mike came sliding up to the back door.

    Damn, brother, you sure hard on that bike! said Don.

    Yeah, well, I'd rather have it break here in town than out on the road somewhere! Mike said as he climbed off and put his hand out to Don. How was your trip, Don?

    Pretty trippy, said Don and laughed.

    Very funny, said Mike as they shook hands.

    Bobby was just walking up with a cup of coffee in each hand. He handed one to Don then looked at Mike. Hey, bro, what happened to you? I thought you were coming with us this weekend?

    Man, I forgot it was my brother's birthday. I had to go out to Indian Springs Prison and pay my brother a visit. It's bad enough being locked up, so I try to make it out there on his birthday whenever I can.

    Mike had become part of the crew two years ago. He helped out in the shop and did most of the running around for them. Mike had been down a hard road. He was good with bikes, but he got strung out on speed and had lost several jobs; his wife was ready to leave him, and the bank was ready to foreclose on his house. He found himself sitting in jail for being under the influence. His wife hung up on him when he called her to get his bail money, and it was the same with everyone else he called. He finally called the shop, feeling like he had nothing to live for, and asked Don if they could help him out.

    Don called Bobby into the shop office, and they talked it over. They told Mike that if they bailed him out, he would have to come to work with them, and if they caught him doing any drugs, his ass would be theirs! Mike had no other choice. He had hit bottom, and he either cleaned up his act, or he could end up dead or in prison with his brother.

    He did well. He came to work, got himself into a drug program, and had his life back on track. Once his wife saw he was trying his best to straighten out, she had taken him back. They now had their home paid for and a beautiful baby girl named Andi, and Mike was loving life.

    The shop was owned by Don and Bobby, but Don was the older of the two and had more experience building bikes. As they all went about their work, Don and Bobby told Mike about their close encounter and the dude who had been shot.

    Damn, brothers! Mike said, wide-eyed. Sounds like you two came in the nick of time. They may have killed that dude, and you too!

    Yeah, Bobby said, laying under the side of a bike, trying to get to a wire that was shorting out. The dude was shot up pretty bad, but he was handling it like a man. He wouldn't let us take him to a hospital, so we left him out in front of a restaurant and headed home."

    Best thing you could have done, said Mike as he swung his leg over the bike that he was working on. Sounds like you rode up on a bad drug deal or something.

    Yeah, said Don, leaning over the side of a bike. They sounded like they didn't give a damn if he died or not.

    You mean you saw them? Mike said in a nervous voice.

    Na! said Bobby as he got to his feet. It was too dark. We only heard them.

    Did they see you? asked Mike.

    Hell no! said Don. We froze when we heard the shots, and they never knew we were there. We waited until we heard them leave before moving an inch.

    Man, you guys are lucky they didn't see you!

    Don was wiping his hands clean. I don't think it was a drug deal.

    What makes you say that? asked Mike.

    Dude was dressed in dark clothes that looked pretty nice.

    Hell, Don, said Mike, looking at him like he was dumb. That's what they're into. They can't spend their money on legal things without the law catching them!

    I just don't think that was it, said Don. He had a cool manner to him.

    You never can tell, said Mike. He may have been one of the big boys! They play it real cool.

    Well, you should know, said Don, walking over to the workbench. It's over now, so let's just drop it and get some of this work done!

    Okay, boss, said Mike, going back to work on the bike, but he couldn't get it out of his head.

    It was midafternoon when they decided to break for lunch. They ordered out for pizza. They had just sat down to eat when Angel pulled up at the back door with her '68 Shovel in the back

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