Page 5 of Locke

The biker bar, known as The Iron Fang, stood eerily quiet. Its sign loomed overhead, casting a dim glow on the door. The absence of lights and people made it seem even larger than before. The two-story structure dominated the empty street. Behind the bar, a bustling garage functioned as a real mechanic shop. The air was filled with the scent of oil and metal. The constant whirring of drills and the clattering of tools created a symphony of loud noises that reverberated through the space.

Overall, in the daylight, a seemingly normal town.

I buzzed through town, picking up supplies. Mostly food and water, but I also picked up a burner phone and quickly deposited it in my pocket for safekeeping. The people were not judgmental of me like I’d feared. They were genuine and downright nice, and that put more worry in my gut than them showing hostility.

“Are you staying or passing through?” one cashier asked. He was young, maybe eighteen, fresh out of high school. He had an innocent look about him, but his eyes looked old. That didn’t stop him from putting a smile on his face, showing a friendly front and looking genuinely happy.

“Ah, not sure yet. I’ve been road-tripping for a while. Tired of the corporate world. Wanted to travel around the country for a while.” I smiled, letting the lie roll off my tongue.

The boy grinned and put the canned beans in my paper bag. “Yeah? Well, you won’t get more nature than this. Just makesure you don’t go out at night. The animals around here are savages.” He rang me up and told me my total.

As I rummaged through my wallet, I leaned on the counter. “What do you mean by savage? What animals?”

The boy shrugged his shoulders and put the bill in the till. “There are stories, but lately, there have been noises. It's scared the whole town. The mayor has put on a mandatory lockdown at dusk. Everyone has to be in their homes until the animal is caught.” He leaned forward to whisper like it was a big secret. “Personally, I think it’s a werewolf. You should see some of the damage it leaves in the town sometimes. Huge claw marks on the bricks, loud howls down the alleyways and sometimes, even blood all over the roads with no corpse left behind.”

The kid’s face went pale, while I just stared at him expressionlessly. I didn’t know if he was trying to scare me or himself.

“What about those bikers? They were standing outside the bar last night, past dark.” I grabbed my bag from the counter and balanced it on my hip.

The cashier leaned back and glanced around the room like the other stock boy was going to go tattle on him. “That’s the Iron Fang. You don’t mess with them. They do what they want. Like, they have the cops in their back pocket.”

I rolled my eyes. “So, for all you know, it could be the bikers acting like a werewolf or some beast, and getting away with crimes in the middle of the night?”

His lips parted and that little bit of imagination he’d created in his head was crushed.

Gah, way to be a bitch, Emm.

“Look,” I glanced at his name tag, “Garret, it could be a werewolf, alright, but why don’t you look at the entire picture first, before you get all excited about the prospects of somemagical creature taking over the forest and the town?” I turned my back to walk away, but the boy grabbed my arm.

I ripped it away from him quickly, dropped my groceries and pinned his wrist to the table. Garret’s face turned pale, his heart beating through his chest.

“Hey, you forgot your change?” his voice shook.

“Sorry,” I snapped. “A woman has to know her self-defense. Sorry I did that.” Heat flooded my cheeks.

He nodded and dropped it in my hand. “Just so you know, the Iron Fang, they wouldn’t do anything malicious like that. They may have the police in their back pocket, but for good reason. They help people. Help women mostly, but they have helped guys, too.” He blushed. “They help them get out of tough situations.”

“Situations?” I asked.

The boy leaned his head to the side, but his eyes wouldn’t meet mine. “Just situations too embarrassing to talk about. Just take it from me. They are good guys. They are here to protect the town. I trust them–with my life.”

I hummed, taking in the information Garret had shared with me. It seemed like there was more to this town than ghosts and goblins. Now, we have goblins, werewolves and now, savior bikers?

And what of the townspeople? No one had been mean or unwelcoming—yet, anyway. I hadn’t worn out my welcome, although I was trying my hardest not to show my resting bitch face.

I walked out of the small grocery store, into the sunlight, and then I felt it. The hair on the back of my neck rising, with a sense of unease washing over me. As I left the store, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that someone was watching me. The paranoia from the previous night resurfaced, so I quickened my pace back to Marlow and drove at a not-so-suspicious pace back to the RV.

Of course, I passed the bar on the way. It was bustling on the outside, now. Men and women coming and going out of the tavern-like bar. The apartment building across the street had women swarming around the outside, waving, linking arms with some of the men, mostly bikers.

It couldn’t possibly be a brothel they had going on, could it?

My eyes narrowed and the high hopes I had for the biker gang vanished.

As I made my way back to the RV, with my heart pounding, I tightly gripped my bag of groceries and swiftly closed the truck door. Despite the silence that enveloped the area, an eerie sensation prickled my skin, as if unseen eyes were fixed on me. With a mix of trepidation and curiosity, I anxiously scanned my surroundings. The stillness was almost palpable, not even a single melodious chirp from a bird broke the silence, and the gentle breeze barely whispered against my skin.

I cleared my throat, adjusted the bag on my hip and unlocked the door of the RV, slamming it shut and quickly locking it again.

I don’t get spooked easy, and I’m not sure why I was letting those foolish tales get to me.

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