chapters. There was a group in Lavender, as well as groups as far off as Los Angeles and San Diego. Most of them weren't going to make it into San Valencez for the meeting, but there were more than the small clubhouse had seen in many years.
Snake set several of the younger members to work out in back. They had a large yard circled by a seven foot wooden fence. The center was a fire pit they used for barbecues. This night, it would just hold a fire. There were torches lined up around the outer edge of the yard as well.
'I don't want this to be cramped,' Snake said. 'I want plenty of room. The fresh air will be good.'
Bikes rolled in all afternoon, and into the evening. There were a lot of questions, and not many answers. Those who came from outside the Barrio were filled in, but even those telling the tales knew how crazy they sounded. The only thing everyone understood was that Los Escorpiones were making a bid to rule the Barrio, and that there was a battle coming. There were also stories of the last confrontation. Vasquez had been well known, and the stories of his death were already reaching legendary status.
Snake stood in the doorway, drinking a beer and watching the preparations. He glanced over at the jacket on the wall. Even from where he stood, the bloodstains were visible. They haunted him. The dragon, limp and lifeless as the leather, seemed to accuse him. No matter where he stood in the room, he was certain those eyes followed.
Jake stepped up beside him.
'Did you find Martinez?' Snake asked.
'He'll be here. I'd swear he was standing on his front porch waiting for me, like he already knew I was coming.'
Snake nodded. 'Makes sense. If anyone knows what's going on, and how it's likely to end, it's that crazy old man.'
'I've got scouts out,' Jake said. 'We're trying to locate Los Escorpiones. Delaporte is quiet, and there hasn't been a sign of Hector, or any of the others, since that night. Anya Cabrera's shop is closed. No one is out on the street, and the few people we've been able to find are either not talking, or they really don't know.'
'She'll make her move soon enough,' Snake said. 'We just have to make sure we're ready. In about an hour, I want you to get the club organized and get them into that yard. Light a fire, hand out some beer, keep them quiet. Try to keep them from working themselves up too soon — try to keep them from getting scared.
'I'm going to meet with Martinez first. I want to be able to tell them all that we know, and I want to have some options to offer — some hope.'
Jake nodded. 'They'll follow you into hell, you know? All of them. I'll be right at the front.'
'I know that, man,' Snake said. 'I only hope it's not misplaced trust, you know? I've never seen anything like this, and I don't know how we're going to face it.'
'Yeah, you know,' Jake said. His voice was rough with emotion, but he worked through it. 'We'll face it like men. Like Dragons. What else is there?'
Snake turned and stared at him, and then — slowly — the old familiar smile slid over his face. He lifted his beer, saluted Jake with it, and drained the bottle.
'I might keep you around,' he said.
Jake turned away then. Snake watched the big man walk out into the yard, then turned and dropped the empty bottle in the trash. He wanted another, but he knew he had to wait. There was a lot to do and maybe not enough time left to do it. The sun was low on the skyline. He turned, crossed the main room of the clubhouse, and walked into the back room — where he kept his things. Several of the Dragons lived at the clubhouse, and there were two rooms for those sleeping over when their old ladies kicked them to the curve, or they needed a place to crash and recover. Snake had the only private room. He closed the door and flopped back on his old leather couch. From where he sat he could watch the activities out back through a tinted window, mirrored on the outside. He ignored the Dragons and watched the growing, lapping flames as they danced.
~* ~
Martinez arrived at the Dragons clubhouse just as the last of the sun's rays disappeared. Streetlights hummed to life around him. The street and the driveway were lined with motorcycles, Harleys, Indians, a few Triumphs and some others. They glittered in the dim light, their colors muted. The old man approached the doorway. Jake stepped out to greet him.
'Snake's been waiting for you,' he said.
Martinez followed the big man inside. He saw that Jake still wore the leather jacket, and the dragon stared out at him from that dark surface. He felt its power, and its anger. He felt the coming storm so clearly in that instant that he nearly stopped in his tracks, turned, and disappeared. What he was doing was dangerous — not in the same way that what Anya Cabrera was doing, but it crossed lines he should not cross and brought danger to those he cared about.
Jake knocked on a door, opened it and stepped aside. Martinez entered a small, dimly lit room. The space was neat and organized. There was a small desk in one corner with a lamp and a laptop computer. The bed rested against the back wall, a cot like men used in the army. Snake sat on a low-slung couch directly across from the door. He rose when Martinez entered, and held out his hand.
'Thanks for coming,' he said. 'I guess I don't need to tell you why we're all gathered here.'
'She is crazy, you know that?' Martinez said. 'Anya Cabrera believes that she can control this — this darkness — that she is unleashing. It will eat her alive, and when it is done, it will come for the rest of us.'
'I was afraid you'd say something like that,' Snake said. 'We have to fight them again, don't we?'
Martinez nodded. 'Someone must stop her. We are here.'
'How?' It was a simple, one word question, but it encompassed so much.
'It won't be easy,' Martinez said. 'You will have to trust me.'
'Enrique trusted you,' Snake said. There was bitterness in his tone, but not accusation.
'I did not send Enrique to Salvatore,' Martinez said. 'I sent Jake. If I had known another would come to the boy so quickly, I would have prevented it.'
'You couldn't have prevented that with a steamroller,' Snake sighed. 'You didn't see the way Enrique's eyes lit up when Jake came in, flashing that dragon around and suddenly lit up with power like some kind of comic book superhero. Don't think I didn't see that. Most of the time, he just looks like Jake, but I know there's more to it. Hell, if there wasn't why would they do it at all?'
'You must call the boy,' Martinez said. 'You must call him to paint a final dragon. It is the only way. It is the only thing that I have to offer that can help — that can stand against this darkness. He has a gift — a power in his hands, and his dreams. He can bring your dragon.'
'My club has colors,' Snake said, turning away. 'Every member wears them — exactly the same. They are a sign of strength, and brotherhood. They are a sign that though we ride many roads and live many separate lives, but we are equal.
'Those new dragons, the painted ones; I didn't like them from the start. I don't like the way they set us apart. I don't like the way they make one person stand out among many. Everything that I stand for, everything that I have worked to build here, is in danger. Some of that danger comes from Los Escorpiones, and from Anya Cabrera. Some of it, though, comes from closer to home. Some of it comes from a young man with chalk and pencils and paint. So what am I to do?'
'You must save them,' Martinez said. 'At all cost — at any cost — it is yours to do.'
There was a knock on the door. Both men turned as Jake opened the door a crack.
'Martinez, there is someone here for you.'
Snake turned and looked at Martinez curiously. The old man shrugged.
'Who is it?' Snake asked.
'That guy Donovan — the one who brought Enrique and I back. He's alone.'
'I must speak with him,' Martinez said. 'He may have news of Anya Cabrera's plans. He is a good man — a strong ally. It is very good that he is on our side.'
'You talk to him, and you find out what you can,' Snake said. 'I'm going to go out and speak to the others. I'm going to keep them busy for a while with what's happened already. Before I finish, come to me, and tell me what comes next. Tell me how we will beat this, and get our lives back. Tell me how we will win, and return to riding in the mountains, drinking beer and telling stories. Help me make this into one of those stories. That is what I want from you. If you give that to me, if you bring us peace, you will have my friendship for the rest of my life. I would
