the last of the tornado hawks
Aug 7, 2023 22:58:50 GMT -5
Post by themirrorthief on Aug 7, 2023 22:58:50 GMT -5
The year 2049
The Tornado Hawks roared down the darkened street much faster than any rational man
would deem safe. They didn't care. They were drunk, stoned, cocky. Despite the blackness
of 3 am, they wore shades...standard gear along with their black leather jackets and
cowboy boots. There were four of them, the entire gang minus one who had a bad case of
the flu. There had been six but one was dead, no not dead, in prison.
At a particular intersection one veered away from the rest. He gave a quick but rather
slight wave of his gloved hand and went his own way. This one was called Roger Brace. He
was a bit older than the others and by far the handsomest. He drove into the trailer park
and came to a screeching halt just before running over a stone angel. The concrete deity
glared at him as he shut the machine down, stretched and walked onto the creaky front
porch of the blue mobile home. He pounded on the door for several minutes before a girl
answered. "God damn, what the fuck are you doing waking me up this time of night"
"You wanted to see me, why wait?"
She frowned but let him in. She pulled the cheap gown tighter about her slender shoulders
and pushed a wisp of light brown hair away from her forehead. "I did want to see you but
damn Roger, its a little early don't you think?"
"How bout some coffee?" He asked. She shook her head and shrugged before going into the
tiny kitchen and turning on the light. "I guess you want to get laid?"
"You called me," he answered and took off the sunglasses. He went into the living room
and turned on the tv...he found a movie and made himself comfortable. She brought a cup
of steaming hot coffee. He fished a bottle out of his jacket and poured a little in the
cup before sipping the hot liquid. "Good stuff, just like I like it."
Angie lay down on the couch and stared into space. She was a hooker part time and a
waitress full time. Rog was one of her Johns. But he never paid anymore and she didn't
mind all that much. He got up and started out of the room..."I need a shower, give me
a couple of minutes." When he returned he was naked and still toweling himself. "You
don't have the hottest water around Ang."
"I don't stay in there twenty minutes either," she replied. He sat down by her on the
couch and took her in his arms. The kiss lasted a long time and his hands worked over
her breasts and stomach. "Damn, you're soft..." He always made her feel like somebody
although she knew he was nobody...just a damned biker punk with no future. However, when
he said he was ready to settle down she believed him. I was crazy but something told
her it was the stone truth. She lay back on the couch and let him fuck her for a long
time. Finally she felt his warm sperm flowing into her and he collapsed into her arms.
She kissed his hair and ran her fingers over the hard muscles of his arms and back. He
groaned before she pushed him off and got up. It was her time to shower...work wasn't so
far away and she wanted breakfast.
When Angie returned from a brutal ten hour shift he was still there asleep on the couch,
still naked. Three empty beer cans stood on the end table. That was all she'd had. For
a moment she allowed herself to admire his smooth male form. Then she went back into
her bedroom and dropped on the bed with a sigh. In minutes she was asleep. Somewhere
she heard the roaring of his bike as it crashed into the stillness of late evening. She
rolled over, set the alarm on her phone and went back to sleep.
Angies broken down old car needed gas and there wasn't a lot of groceries in the house.
It didn't matter cause she was broke. Luckily she did have enough gas to make it to work
and back the next day. That evening she spent a few minutes straightening out the trailer.
She picked up some magazines to put them away and then she saw it. Two shiny new hundred
dollar bills lying there, half hidden by a worn old People magazine. She picked them
up and smiled. Rog must have left the cash...damn, who would have thunk it. Angie
went out shopping. She was off the next day so she called her friend Beth and they made
a night of it. They went to a movie and out to eat at a restaurant that wasn't so bad
or expensive. "Beth, you look great, have you had some work done?"
"I wish I could...hey, I want you to meet someone. He's right over there."
Beth scampered away and returned with a tall blond dude in tow. "This is my cousin
and isn't he the shit?" The man smiled and offered Angie his hand. Before anything
more introductions could be had the three of them were off to do some dancing and bar
hopping. It was a night to remember and she wished she could. She did recall his name..
Lee Berg.
Angie heard Rog was in jail. Not a shocker there. It looked like he was really up
against it this time. He had beaten some guy half to death while high on some fucked
up dope. When Lee called she said yes. Why not, he was a decent guy and very good
looking and he even had a job. What more could a girl want? She felt a little guilty
about not going down to the jail to see Roger...she had feelings for the guy but he
was his own worse enemy. She thought about him a lot....if only he hadn't been such
a loser. Five months later she married Lee.
Two years after that she divorced Lee. He had beaten her, stolen money from her...lied
to her, fucked other women. It had been a nightmare. She did get the house, she sold it
and went to college. After college she went into finance and real estate. Find a talent
she never knew she had she did well and became a millionaire by the time she was 33.
Angie started hanging out with a higher class of friends. The did stuff like go to
museums, take cruises, and even read books. In fact, she and her new friend Shelia were
at a bookstore when they discovered some author was doing a book signing in the back.
Angie could have fallen over dead when she saw the author was none other than her old
flame Roger! He was autographing copies of his new book, THE LAST OF THE TORNADO HAWKS.
She remembered that was the name of his old biker gang. She picked up a copy and got
in line. She felt terribly nervous for some reason. She just couldn't believe it.
When it was her time she handed him the book and he smiled and signed. He gave it back to
her, "Thank you so much, I hope you enjoy it."
"Do you remember me Roger?"
He stared at her for a moment..."Angie?"
"Yes, looks like you got it going on here."
"Well, who knows, its my first...I wouldn't look for it on the New York Times best
seller list." Then she realized someone behind her was nudging her out of the way.
She took her book and looked for Shelia. When she glanced back Roger was busy talking
to the next person in line. It was all so strange. He was different, clean cut and
even talked different. People could sure change a lot in nine years she mused. When
she got back home she could not stop reading his book. It was fascinating...and so much
of it seemed to be a story of her life too. Yes, it was fiction but the writing was
superb and a chapter about one particular woman made Angie read it over twice. She could
swear the character was based on her!
It was about this time that Angie realized she might never see Roger again. She recalled
him saying something to the person ahead of her in line about his "nice visit" to his
hometown. For no reason she could fathom, she broke down and cried for a very long time.
She was glad that he had straightened himself out and was trying to make something
out of himself. She had money, perhaps she could help him. No, he was doing fine all on
his on.
THE LAST OF THE TORNADO HAWKS did hit the bestseller lists. And Roger's next book did
too. Angie never saw him again, except for his picture In the book stores. She read his
books and sometimes dreamed about him but when it came to touching, there were only
memories to squeeze and long nights lying awake in the dark.
The Tornado Hawks roared down the darkened street much faster than any rational man
would deem safe. They didn't care. They were drunk, stoned, cocky. Despite the blackness
of 3 am, they wore shades...standard gear along with their black leather jackets and
cowboy boots. There were four of them, the entire gang minus one who had a bad case of
the flu. There had been six but one was dead, no not dead, in prison.
At a particular intersection one veered away from the rest. He gave a quick but rather
slight wave of his gloved hand and went his own way. This one was called Roger Brace. He
was a bit older than the others and by far the handsomest. He drove into the trailer park
and came to a screeching halt just before running over a stone angel. The concrete deity
glared at him as he shut the machine down, stretched and walked onto the creaky front
porch of the blue mobile home. He pounded on the door for several minutes before a girl
answered. "God damn, what the fuck are you doing waking me up this time of night"
"You wanted to see me, why wait?"
She frowned but let him in. She pulled the cheap gown tighter about her slender shoulders
and pushed a wisp of light brown hair away from her forehead. "I did want to see you but
damn Roger, its a little early don't you think?"
"How bout some coffee?" He asked. She shook her head and shrugged before going into the
tiny kitchen and turning on the light. "I guess you want to get laid?"
"You called me," he answered and took off the sunglasses. He went into the living room
and turned on the tv...he found a movie and made himself comfortable. She brought a cup
of steaming hot coffee. He fished a bottle out of his jacket and poured a little in the
cup before sipping the hot liquid. "Good stuff, just like I like it."
Angie lay down on the couch and stared into space. She was a hooker part time and a
waitress full time. Rog was one of her Johns. But he never paid anymore and she didn't
mind all that much. He got up and started out of the room..."I need a shower, give me
a couple of minutes." When he returned he was naked and still toweling himself. "You
don't have the hottest water around Ang."
"I don't stay in there twenty minutes either," she replied. He sat down by her on the
couch and took her in his arms. The kiss lasted a long time and his hands worked over
her breasts and stomach. "Damn, you're soft..." He always made her feel like somebody
although she knew he was nobody...just a damned biker punk with no future. However, when
he said he was ready to settle down she believed him. I was crazy but something told
her it was the stone truth. She lay back on the couch and let him fuck her for a long
time. Finally she felt his warm sperm flowing into her and he collapsed into her arms.
She kissed his hair and ran her fingers over the hard muscles of his arms and back. He
groaned before she pushed him off and got up. It was her time to shower...work wasn't so
far away and she wanted breakfast.
When Angie returned from a brutal ten hour shift he was still there asleep on the couch,
still naked. Three empty beer cans stood on the end table. That was all she'd had. For
a moment she allowed herself to admire his smooth male form. Then she went back into
her bedroom and dropped on the bed with a sigh. In minutes she was asleep. Somewhere
she heard the roaring of his bike as it crashed into the stillness of late evening. She
rolled over, set the alarm on her phone and went back to sleep.
Angies broken down old car needed gas and there wasn't a lot of groceries in the house.
It didn't matter cause she was broke. Luckily she did have enough gas to make it to work
and back the next day. That evening she spent a few minutes straightening out the trailer.
She picked up some magazines to put them away and then she saw it. Two shiny new hundred
dollar bills lying there, half hidden by a worn old People magazine. She picked them
up and smiled. Rog must have left the cash...damn, who would have thunk it. Angie
went out shopping. She was off the next day so she called her friend Beth and they made
a night of it. They went to a movie and out to eat at a restaurant that wasn't so bad
or expensive. "Beth, you look great, have you had some work done?"
"I wish I could...hey, I want you to meet someone. He's right over there."
Beth scampered away and returned with a tall blond dude in tow. "This is my cousin
and isn't he the shit?" The man smiled and offered Angie his hand. Before anything
more introductions could be had the three of them were off to do some dancing and bar
hopping. It was a night to remember and she wished she could. She did recall his name..
Lee Berg.
Angie heard Rog was in jail. Not a shocker there. It looked like he was really up
against it this time. He had beaten some guy half to death while high on some fucked
up dope. When Lee called she said yes. Why not, he was a decent guy and very good
looking and he even had a job. What more could a girl want? She felt a little guilty
about not going down to the jail to see Roger...she had feelings for the guy but he
was his own worse enemy. She thought about him a lot....if only he hadn't been such
a loser. Five months later she married Lee.
Two years after that she divorced Lee. He had beaten her, stolen money from her...lied
to her, fucked other women. It had been a nightmare. She did get the house, she sold it
and went to college. After college she went into finance and real estate. Find a talent
she never knew she had she did well and became a millionaire by the time she was 33.
Angie started hanging out with a higher class of friends. The did stuff like go to
museums, take cruises, and even read books. In fact, she and her new friend Shelia were
at a bookstore when they discovered some author was doing a book signing in the back.
Angie could have fallen over dead when she saw the author was none other than her old
flame Roger! He was autographing copies of his new book, THE LAST OF THE TORNADO HAWKS.
She remembered that was the name of his old biker gang. She picked up a copy and got
in line. She felt terribly nervous for some reason. She just couldn't believe it.
When it was her time she handed him the book and he smiled and signed. He gave it back to
her, "Thank you so much, I hope you enjoy it."
"Do you remember me Roger?"
He stared at her for a moment..."Angie?"
"Yes, looks like you got it going on here."
"Well, who knows, its my first...I wouldn't look for it on the New York Times best
seller list." Then she realized someone behind her was nudging her out of the way.
She took her book and looked for Shelia. When she glanced back Roger was busy talking
to the next person in line. It was all so strange. He was different, clean cut and
even talked different. People could sure change a lot in nine years she mused. When
she got back home she could not stop reading his book. It was fascinating...and so much
of it seemed to be a story of her life too. Yes, it was fiction but the writing was
superb and a chapter about one particular woman made Angie read it over twice. She could
swear the character was based on her!
It was about this time that Angie realized she might never see Roger again. She recalled
him saying something to the person ahead of her in line about his "nice visit" to his
hometown. For no reason she could fathom, she broke down and cried for a very long time.
She was glad that he had straightened himself out and was trying to make something
out of himself. She had money, perhaps she could help him. No, he was doing fine all on
his on.
THE LAST OF THE TORNADO HAWKS did hit the bestseller lists. And Roger's next book did
too. Angie never saw him again, except for his picture In the book stores. She read his
books and sometimes dreamed about him but when it came to touching, there were only
memories to squeeze and long nights lying awake in the dark.