Editor’s note: The following story is from the book, “The Further Adventures of The Borderland Biker, In Memory of Indian Larry and Doo Wop Music,” by Derrel Whitemeyer.
“Roll with the mystery, life’s uncertain; just be comfortable with that. Why fight it?”
Indian Larry
“Hilts, we need you sober…NOW!” The sound of new activity outside wasn’t lost in Larry’s shout of urgency.
“Maybe,” I interjected, “he can somehow conjure himself sober?”
“Can’t conjure when I’m drunk;” slurred a still under the influence Hilts, “besides I’ve never tried it outside of the Borderlands.”
In the meantime Larry had done more than express his need of a sober Hilts; he’d poured almost a quart of Elisa’s potent coffee into an old pot and what was left of the whisky onto the wood inside the stove. He then placed the pot on top of the stove and tossed in a lit match. With a woof and a flash followed by flames, smoke began flowing out the sides of the bullet riddled stove as well as up its metal pipe chimney. The stove was heating the coffee but also venting smoke out the bullet holes, which was thankfully venting out the hole in the shed’s roof where the ladder led to the water tank.
Speaking of new activity, a new voice from beyond the door shouted in at us, “If you boys burn that place down you’d better hope you die in the flames. Douse the fire, come out and we’ll let you go on your way…no harm no foul.”
“Randy, is that you;” yelled back Larry, “you callin’ the shots now?
“Damn right, I’m callin’ the shots.”
Randy’s answer to Larry’s question was followed by a long silence, followed by three quick shots fired through the wall above our heads, followed by more shots, thankfully into the air, “…damn right, I’m callin’ the shots.”
“It’s warm enough,” said Larry turning to me at the same time he reached for the pot of coffee then offered it to Hilts. “Drink as much of it as you can.”
Hilts grabbed the pot from Larry’s hands, tilted it up and started drinking.
“Nine millimeter auto by the sound and quickness of the shots,” said Hilts between gulps and at the same pointing at the three evenly spaced holes clustered in the wall.
“Less talking and more drinking,” interrupted Larry, “we need you sober whether you can conjure or not.”
In the back of my mind was the fact Larry and I really didn’t know what effect Elisa’s coffee would have on Hilts. My hope was it would sober him up enough so he could become the quintessential ‘gunfighter’ that had protected us from the Cyclops.
“It’s working,” I said.
“But with side effects;” added Larry, “look at his face.” Hilts was still Hilts but changing…taller, more raw-boned,
to the point of being gaunt, almost skeletal.
“Listen, I don’t have much time,” said Hilts. “No matter what Randy said, they’re not going to let any of us out of here alive. They’ve gathered together in a bunch from the sound of their voices just to the left of the door. Their plan is to shoot us when we come out. What they’re not planning on is…”
By now there was no doubt Hilts was changing shape whether consciously or because of Elisa’s coffee.
“Leave,” continued Hilts, “as soon as I leave; under no circumstances wait for me. Ride south to the first farm field with a split rail fence. Turn right and follow the road that follows the fence line. You’re not that far from the crossover. When you get to the end of the fence you’ll have crossed into the Borderlands. You’ll recognize it by the produce stand. You’ll be tempted to stop…don’t.
“Once you’re past the produce stand you’ll intersect with a two lane road. Turn right, follow it towards the mountains. In about an hour you’ll come to a café called Spanky’s; the owner’s expecting you. …can’t talk anymore, gotta take care of… our… friends outside…DO NOT wait for me.”
“Spanky’s? I’ve been to a cafe called Spanky’s. It also was at the foot of the mountains. It’s too much of a coincidence;” said Larry, “it sounds like the same place.”
Instead of answering, Hilts, now unrecognizable, whirled around, ripped the shed door off its hinges and charged out into the darkness…screams followed…then silence.
“Did you see his forearms and hands,” yelled Larry, “they were huge. The rest of him looked skeletal but his forearms and hands were huge. Let’s get the Warrior outside; you get the Raider and then let’s both get outta here.”
“What about, Hilts.”
“Whatever that was, that wasn’t the Hilts we know. I’ve never seen anything move that fast and I don’t want to be here when it comes back.”
We then proceeded to push the Road Warrior outside the shed. While I ran around to get the Raider, Larry climbed back up inside the water tank. When I returned he was standing beside the Warrior holding two Glock semiautomatics, three boxes of ammunition and the Ruger Redhawk revolver.
“The ammo was in the ceiling of the shed. I never thought to look there and wouldn’t have except for the hole. Hilts, or whatever Hilts has become tore a hole in the ceiling when he ripped off the shed’s door. The ammo was in plain sight. We’ll leave the Ruger and a box of ammo for it on the seat of the Road Warrior. When Hilts returns to normal he’ll need both. He’ll need the Ruger for protection. He’ll also need a way to get back to the Borderlands, so we’ll leave him the Road Warrior. We can double up on the Raider again.
A shout came from the darkness, “I thought I told you two to leave!”…had us aboard the Raider and hurriedly riding away. A quick glance behind me had me wishing I hadn’t. A very tall version of Hilts, with forearms and hands that would’ve made Popeye proud was hurling what looked like a small tree limb at us. It was a limb, but not of a tree. Bouncing beside us and on up the road was an arm with most of a shirt still attached. Larry slowed enough so we could look at it. The patch on back of the shirt read, “R&R Electric-no job too small.” The front pocket had RANDY stitched across the top.
“I guess he really meant,” said Larry as he accelerated back up to speed, “for us to leave as soon as he went outside. Remind me in the future to follow his instructions…oh, and to only give him decaf.”
We continued to ride south on the Raider; two miles later we came to the farm field with the split rail fence. We turned right and proceeded to follow the road that followed the fence line for over a mile before coming to the produce stand. We were back in the Borderlands.
“We’re back in the Borderland,” said Larry. “I can feel the change.”
“There’s the produce stand,” I said, pointing at a small roadside stand that still had its ‘OPEN’ sign out.
“The fruit looks tempting but I’m not stopping. The last time we didn’t follow Hilts’ directions he nearly hit us with…”
“I hear you…let’s get going.”
The narrow farm road continued on past the produce stand for another two miles before intersecting with a well paved two lane road. After a right turn onto the two lane road we were soon up to speed; a happy change of pace from just puttin’ along in the lower gears. It was still night; however with the help of a full moon and a near cloudless sky the surrounding land was visible. Houses and buildings showed no lights and looked abandoned and except for a few rusting cars and trucks parked alongside the road we saw no other vehicles.
Since leaving the water tank Larry and I had been communicating with each other by our ear radios. When not communicating we were able to listen to a strong growing stronger ‘Oldies Station’…the music becoming clearer the closer we got to the mountains in the distance.
Orchards had miles ago turned into grazing land bordered by split rail fences just as the flatland had miles ago changed into rolling foothills. At the crest of our last foothill Spanky’s Café could be seen in the distance.
“It looks like the same Spanky’s Café,” Larry said after coming to a stop, “I visited long ago; but different.”
“In what way,” I asked?
“I rode in from another direction,” Larry answered, “and there were more abandoned vehicles. Back then traveling at nighttime was to be avoided.”
[page break]
Dawn was an hour away when we turned into the driveway in front of Spanky’s. Parking for maybe fifteen cars bordered the café; wooden steps led up to its door. It was open and framing a tall women.
“Been expecting you two; Hilts said two of his friends would be coming and that he’d vouch for them. Come in; sit by the fire while I warm up some stew. Hilts said you might be getting a late start. Why isn’t he with you?”
“Kate,” said Larry after he parked the Raider and was walking towards the café, “don’t you recognize me?”
“Name’s Kate, but I don’t recognize either of you.”
Larry didn’t pursue the matter and motioned for me to stay out of it.
“My mistake; for a moment you looked like someone I met some time ago. Her name was also Kate…didn’t mean to upset you. Oh, and Hilts had some business; he’ll come later.”
“No harm, no foul…what are your names?”
“Name’s Larry,” said Larry before I could answer. “He’s my friend Jax. Can we help with anything?”
“Got it covered,” said Kate, a tall blond, her hair turning to a salt n’ pepper gray. She looked to be in her forties, the model for a Frederick Remington painting of a pioneer woman.
After being seated in a pair of soft leather chairs in front of a warm fireplace and then eating some vegetable stew Larry and I fell into an exhausted sleep. We awakened still in the chairs near noon of the next day. Kate was quietly sitting in another chair just off to our side. My guess was she hadn’t left us and that there was more than her folded hands under the raggedy wool blanket that was covering her lap.
“I’d appreciate you two keeping your hands where I can see them, making no sudden moves and staying in your chairs until we get to know one another a little better. Coffee’s going to take a bit more time anyway.”
“Coffee sounds good,” I said, while making a point of stretching very slowly at the same time keeping my hands in full view.
Larry also made a point of stretching so slowly I thought he was doing Tai Chi, “Coffee can never be rushed and besides it’ll take me time to get the kinks out.”
“We’re getting to know one another and that’s good,” Kate said, at the same time she stood up to the whistle of boiling water, “and I wish the coffee were fresh. I’m using yesterday’s grounds and haven’t blended any more.”
“Where are you getting your power from,” asked Larry, “all the electric lines are down? We haven’t seen anything showing the use of electricity for the last seventy miles.”
Kate was deliberate in her answer, “I installed solar panels about three years ago. They cover both sides of the roof and provide all the power I need.”
When the porcelain pot behind the counter whistled Kate was equally deliberate in her walk across the floor to take it off the burner. She was just as deliberate about holding something next to her and on the side away from us. It wasn’t until she turned the corner at the end of the counter that she laid what she’d been holding on top. It was a Colt 45 model 1911 Army.
“Your bags were on the couch in the corner, so last night while you boys slept I went through them. Interestingly neither one of you has any identification.”
“Before you shoot us at least hear what we’ve got to say,” I’d gotten up from the chair, careful so as to keep my hands in sight, and walked to the end of the counter opposite the end where Kate was standing.
It took awhile but I told her everything that had happened up to leaving Hilts at the water tank. I left out the part where Hilts threw Randy’s arm at us to hurry us on our away.
“Are you armed;” Kate’s eyes were focused on me, “I found a box of ammo in each of your bags?”
“My pistol’s behind my back,” I said being careful to keep my hands on the counter, “tucked in my belt.”
“And mine’s in my hand but is going back behind my back,” said Larry as he tucked the recently drawn Glock behind him.
Before anyone could speak I countered, “Hey, what do you say we all lighten up. I figure if we were going to shoot each other we would’ve done it by now.”
Larry had already tucked his gun away, gotten up and had walked over to where Kate was standing, “Got any sugar to go with that coffee?”
Kate, seemingly satisfied with our answers, put the Colt behind the counter like it was a misplaced menu and came back holding a crock pot full of honey.
“Do you know how long,” Larry was drooling, “it’s been since I’ve tasted honey?”
“I’ve a theory,” said Kate, “about what’s happening.”
“…that’ll wait until we’ve had breakfast,” said Larry, having already gone over to the stove, rolled up his sleeves and put on an apron. “How do you want your eggs?”
Larry had taken eggs out of the refrigerator and was breaking them into a skillet before anyone could answer. From the looks of what he was doing everyone was going to have scrambled.
“Make mine scrambled,” said Kate trying not to grin.
“Make mine scrambled too,” I laughed, and then asked seriously. “Did Hilts ever get around to explaining to you why there’s been an increase in bizarre out of the ordinary things happening around here?”
Kate was equally serious when she answered, “He tried to explain saying it had something to do with a couple called Ma n’ Pa and some problems with the Borderlands.”
Kate paused to pour us more coffee.
“Kate, what’s your theory based on;” I asked, “no offence intended, but you’re just a disk jockey, a restaurant owner?”
“My theory’s based upon over twenty years of heading up a top secret government laboratory studying what the effects of Earth’s magnetic lines and gravity have on time-space and alternate universes or realities…and no offense taken.”
“Kate, are you saying you were actually the head of a top secret laboratory studying alternate universes?”
“Yes; the lab’s about fifty miles from here and located over one of the largest quartz deposit on this planet, and that’s Doctor Kate to you…just kidding. I gave up titles a few years ago when I bought this place and moved away from research that had to be filtered through bureaucracy.”
Larry finished dishing us up a generous portion of scrambled eggs then said, “You’re a bit young for early retirement; how’d you manage it? Government pensions are meager on their best days.”
“They are meager, but when supplemented by the royalties from my father’s patents it was enough to buy this combination café and radio station.
“So what,” I was careful not to get egg, pun intended, on my face again, “is your theory?”
“The Sierra Nevada Mountains are home to one of the world’s largest veins of quartz, which can with a large enough source of electricity be made into a giant capacitor.”
“And what,” Larry interjected, “would be a large enough source of electrical energy to turn one of the world’s largest veins of quartz into a giant capacitor.”
“A rare, it happens here and in the German (think Grimm Fairy Tales) Alps every thousand years, series of lightning storms would be a big enough source,” answered Kate. “This vein of quartz when its molecules are aligned/polarized by the lightning, would become a huge hundred mile long capacitor…gaining in capacity after each discharge.
“Once this hundred mile long crystal reached a certain level of storage it would become unstable and could be discharged by the next lightning strike, thus inducing, creating an environment for more electrical storms that in turn would replenish its charge. In essence the process defines the term perpetual motion.”
“So what’s the problem? So we have a few more storms,” I interjected, “in the mountains; the farmers could use the snow pack and rain.”
“More rain’s no problem except that…”
“Except what;” Larry interrupted, “what’s the other shoe that’s about to drop?”
“…except that,” continued Kate, “the crystal’s discharges are affecting more than the weather.”
“What else could they affect,” It was my turn to interrupt, “what’s happening?”
“Up until a month ago the crystal’s discharges were only for a short time but at a frequency sympathetic to the magnetic lines of force surrounding Earth. Gravitational waves at the surface of the Earth are in turn sympathetic to Earth’s magnetic lines of force so when the discharges occur they’re ‘both’ temporarily knocked out of phase. It’s when the two are discordant, out of phase, that rifts or pathways between alternate realities/universes are opened. In the beginning these rifts were only open for seconds. However since I started measuring them at the lab and now with the equipment I have here at the café I’ve found that they’re staying open longer. As more of the hundred mile long crystal is aligned; the rifts or portals between realities stay open longer.”
“How long before the crystal is completely aligned?”
Larry may have become a master metal smith in prison but he’d also become a true ‘Renaissance Man’ and had schooled himself in the sciences; so I wasn’t surprised he was not only able to follow Kate’s theory but to ask questions about it.
“I don’t know, but to appreciate what I’m about to tell you,” Kate had turned to look out the window, “you must accept as fact the Universe not only believes in, but practices balance. It is by definition, the embodiment of Feng Shui and it will do whatever it must to maintain equilibrium. To put it bluntly, the Universe will not, can not allow discordant inharmonious conditions to exist.”
“You talk as if the Universe is conscious?”
Kate looked at me as if I’d spoken the obvious, “so much so it allowed, for self expression, sentient beings to evolve… ”
Before Kate could finish we were interrupted by the kettledrum booming of something pounding on metal.
[page break]
“And that my friends,” Kate was already walking out the backdoor of the café, “is someone, rather something I want you to meet. Well let’s just say I think it’s someone; I’ve never actually seen it. It spoke to me in the voice of my favorite uncle…who’s been dead for some time. Will one of you please grab that pot of coffee?”
I was the closest someone so I grabbed the pot, handed it to Kate and then followed her and Larry outside. Early afternoon sunlight had traced the shadows of overhead branches on our path. They could’ve passed for silhouettes.
The path led down a small incline then up the other side, ending at an archway leading into the ruins of what was left of a stone building. Attached to the archway was a large metal door still on its hinges and shut. Amend that to almost shut. Whatever was doing the pounding was on the other side and had already pushed it open a couple of inches. Larry and I drew out our pistols.
Kate was reading our minds, “Put away your guns and stay close to where I’m standing. With the locks on the hinges it can’t squeeze through the door but it can reach out.”
“Jax honey,” it was my grandmother’s voice coming from behind the door, or was it from inside my head, promising freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and a warm hug if I’d just let her out. “Is that you? Jax, I could’ve caught my death in here last night. If you and your two friends could just give me a hand in opening this door…just unlock the two hinges.”
Kate’s, “Don’t open the door”, came too late.
I’d already put my gun away, walked over and was reaching up to undo the locks covering the hinges.
“Ah, my favorite grandson, now if you could just…” came from behind the door and I could even smell freshly baked cookies mixed with the universal smell all grandmothers have.
The contents of Kate’s pot of coffee hit the door the same time my grandmother’s hand reached out to touch mine. Except my grandmother’s hand was the size of a small shovel and had fingernails that looked like claws.
Something big enough to match the size of the suddenly withdrawn hand moved swiftly back from the other side of the door at the same time Kate’s coffee splattered against it and through its opening. I was splashed a little but not burned.
“Who’s,” I asked, “in there; or should I say…?”
“…what’s in there?” Larry interjected.
“Well whatever it is,” Larry continued, pointing at the door, “it’s something we’re going to have to get past. The signal’s strongest from the other side, which means we’re going to have to get beyond this door and that thing if we’re to join the final section of Ma n’ Pa’s Borderland.”
The thought of Larry and I continuing our journey seemed impossible. It defied logic for the simple reason that behind the metal door were the ruins of a stone building and the ruins backed up to the hills. There was no road or even a path beyond the door, nothing but the beginnings of a steep slope.
“That’s impossible;” I said, feeling I should point out the obvious, “there’s nothing behind this door but ruins, and nothing behind these ruins but hills.”
Kate continued as if I’d simply not looked carefully enough, “You’re correct, there’s nothing but a ten foot space behind the door; but once the portal on other side opens you’ll find yourselves at the beginning of a road exactly four miles long. When it opens next time, according to my calculations, it’ll be for two and a half minutes. You’ll need to have ridden the four miles to the other portal before it closes.”
Remembering back to when the thing pretending to be my grandmother reached for me with a hand the size of a shovel, I asked, “So how do we get past our friend on the other side of the door and while we’re on the subject, how did it get here?”
Kate was direct, “I awakened it. A few days ago when the portal opened I went in only long enough to use the Doppler gun to measure the distance to the next portal.
“It awakened, luckily for me, as I was leaving. If I had to guess, I say it has been trapped at this end of the portal for quite some time.”
“I had to ask, “Other than measuring the distance to the next portal, what did you find?”
“The portal opens when the lightning discharges the crystal. What you’ll find won’t be there after the portal closes. After the portal closes there’s nothing but a ten foot chamber.”
“So what’s,” I repeated my question, “on the other side of the steel door when the portal’s open.”
“The beginning of the four mile road; it runs straight across a near level plain until it ends at the next Borderland. Just beyond the steel door the road is bordered with three maybe four buildings. They’re abandoned and end within a few hundred feet. It’s almost as if part of the main street of a small town was cut off and then pasted to this end of the road. My guess is whatever’s been pounding on the door trying to get out is staying in one of the buildings.”
“Did you,” Larry asked, “find anything else?”
“I didn’t have much time;” answered Kate, “when that ‘thing’ awakened I barely made it back out. I didn’t really get a look at it; I just know it was too big to squeeze through the door. It was later and only by accident I found out it’s afraid of my coffee.”
“Hey,” I said, “what’s not to like? Your coffee’s quite good…although I can’t identify all the ingredients…”
“I’m not surprised you can’t identify all the ingredients; it’s an old recipe for a blend that I make myself. Actually it’s a recipe I got from my older sister that she got from my grandmother, which she got from her great aunt…that she…”
Larry asked the question before I could, “Would your older sister’s name happen to be Elisa?”
“Yes; but how would you know that? I’ve never told anyone her name.”
Thinking of our upcoming four mile sprint between portals, I had to ask the next question, “You wouldn’t happen to have a motorcycle we could borrow?”
“I do. When the portal opens it’ll be on the other side near a little Buddha statue. You can have it on one condition.”
I nominated myself to ask, “What’s the condition?”
“You must take me with you.”
“How do you know the bike,” asked Larry, “will run?” Kate smiled, “I know it’ll run because I checked it for gas
and even started it…which may have saved my life.”
“How did starting it save your life?”
“That ‘thing’ was behind the buildings and ran towards the sound of the bike’s engine. By the time it got there I was already heading for the door. Because it chose to run to where I’d been I had enough of a start to get out safely.”
“And you never got a good look at it?”
“Not really, my focus was on getting to the door and out. All I know is, it’s big, it’s fast, it can speak using the voice of our loved ones and friends, and we’ve about an hour to figure out how to deal with it.”
“Why,” Larry asked, “only an hour?”
“Because that’s when the portal opens and we need to be ready to ride four miles in less than two and a half minutes.”
Chapter 18 coming soon!
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