PROTOTYPE 15
By Heck



Comments to heck@beadyeye.me.uk

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"Can you ride a motorcycle?" Lucy asked me.

"Can I ever!" I was delighted at the prospect. In my youth, I had travelled
all over Europe on a bike not too dissimilar from this one. "Aye, I can ride".

"This'll do fine, then. Mrs Cooper, do you have the start code?"

I winced again. Motorcycles don't usually have a code, but power up using a
key. Anyone from our time could be reasonably expected to know that. Mrs
Cooper just gave her a wry smile.

"I can see you're no biker", she said, retrieving the key from a drawer.
"Don't need no code".

"I'm sorry", Lucy said, keeping her face deadpan. "I never had much to do with
motorcycling, but I'm sure Paul knows all about it".

I almost forgot I was being Paul, for a moment, but covered well and gave the
bike's owner an agreeable nod. In the end, we had to part with the thick end
of a thousand dollars for the old machine. It was worth every penny, of
course, but left us seriously short on fundage and I hoped our plan would work
out or we'd be in deep doo-doo. I straddled it, Lucy climbed on the pillion,
and I turned the key. The motor purred.

It was a big bike, a serious rider's machine with a powerful electric motor,
built for speed, but obviously hadn't been used in some time. I was surprised
there was still a charge in it. I imagined it had been the baby of the late Mr
Cooper, and pictured him bowling along the country lanes with Miriam hanging
on behind.

We thanked the woman, Lucy clasped her hands round my waist, and we rode out
of the farmyard and off down the road. The bike couldn't reach its full speed,
what with Lucy's enhanced weight, but it ate up the klicks and we soon left
the farmhouse far behind.

It was hard to concentrate on driving, with Lucy snuggled up against my back
like that. I could feel her warmth plastered against me, even through my denim
jacket, and my jeans became uncomfortably tight in the crotch.

We decided not to stop in the nearby town, but sailed right on through and
found ourselves on a wide highway that wound through sandstone hills, climbing
gradually to the summit of the low range. Dawn was breaking as we crested the
top, and I found a place to pull in.

"Daylight", I said. "What do we do? Keep going, or find somewhere to hole up
for the day?"

"I think we keep going", Lucy said. They're looking for three of us, not two,
and will expect us to be on foot or in a car. They won't expect the bike.
Besides, I could do with some breakfast".

I scratched my beard. It was getting long, and thick enough to hide a Texas
longhorn.

"Breakfast sounds good", I agreed. "But where do we eat? We're miles from
anywhere".

"There's a roadhouse up ahead", she said, pointing. I followed her finger with
my eyes, and could just make out a dark smudge in the distance. "Mm! I can
smell the bacon frying".

"From here?" I twisted round in my seat to look at her. "You can smell it from
here?"

"Trust me", she winked. "With this nose, I could smell it with my head in a
bucket of garlic".

I laughed, the first proper laugh in days. She probably could, at that. I
eased the bike back onto the road, and we headed for breakfast.

The roadhouse was no different from a thousand others. A plain, clapboard
building on a large parking lot, and a refuelling depot for the big rigs. We
dismounted the bike and went in.

Inside, the premises were worn and weary, poorly lit, and very much on the
run-down side, but it was clean, and the stainless steel counter top gleamed
with polish.

"Can I help you folks?" The dumpy woman behind the counter greeted us with a
cheery smile. She'd have been about fifty, as far around as she was tall, with
a spotless apron and sleeves pushed up above her fleshy elbows. Her eyes
twinkled in her rosy-cheeked face.

"I'll have a cheeseburger and fries", I said, while Lucy perused the menu
chalked on a sheet of hardboard. "And coffee. Black".

"Oh, I'll just have a piece of bacon", Lucy said. We had decided there was
little point in squandering our valuable cash on full meals for her, being as
she didn't need it. "And a slice of toast".

"Is that all, honey?" the proprietress asked. "Don't seem like much".

"She's on a diet", I responded, proving that I could lie like hell too, when
the need arose. "You know how these women are, these days".

"Ain't that the truth? Seems like, them that diet don't need it, and them that
don't", she patted her ample stomach, "do. Now, you just sit yourselves down,
and it'll be right up".

We found a seat near a window, and sat opposite each other in companionable
silence. The food came quickly and I bit into the succulent burger, the tangy
taste of the cheese bursting on my tastebuds.

"Mm, this is good".

"Mine, too", Lucy said. Her bacon was crisp and glistening and the toast
perfectly done, golden globules of yellow butter gently melting into the
bread.

A shadow fell on our table. Outside, a huge roadtrain, with three trailers
hooked up to the massive tractor unit, was coming to a halt with a loud hiss
of air brakes. We watched as the driver and his mate climbed down from the cab
and made their way over to the diner.

The driver was a huge man close to two metres tall, shirtless in jeans and
padded vest full of pockets like an angler's, without a spare gram of fat on
his muscular frame. His co-driver was nearly as tall, but lean and wiry with a
check shirt and grubby pants, and both wore the obligatory filthy yellow
baseball cap. The little dumpy woman greeted their entrance with hands on
hips.

"Matt Hanford, you know you ain't supposed to park that great monster out
front!" she scolded. "The big rigs go out back".

"Hush, Jolene", the big man said with surly contempt. "Davy an' me, we ain't
gonna be more'n ten minutes. We just want coffee".

Jolene retreated behind the counter with a 'hmph' of disgust, and poured their
coffee. The two men lounged against the bar, gazing at us with interest. Well,
at Lucy, anyway. I don't think I registered. I shifted uncomfortably in my
seat.

"Well, lookit here", Matt said to Davy. "This must be the finest lookin' gal
we've seen in a month. Wouldn't you say, Davy?"

"Shore 'nuff", Davy replied, swallowing a guffaw. "She shore 'nuff is".

I glanced at Lucy. She gave no visible hint that she had heard, except for a
slight tightening of her jaw muscles.

"You two mind your manners", Jolene snapped. "And don't go making no trouble".

"Oh, it'll be no trouble", Davy sniggered. "No trouble at all".

Anxiety prickled at the back of my neck, and I felt a line of sweat on my top
lip, under my moustache. I didn't know how Lucy would react if these two jerks
started something, and didn't fancy the odds if I was forced to intervene on
her behalf. Lucy must have caught my mood, and reached across the table to lay
a cool hand on mine.

"Relax", she said quietly. "Finish your burger, and take your time". She
finished her toast and took a sip of coffee. "Excuse me", she said to Jolene.
"Where's your bathroom? When you've got to go, you've got to go", she added
for my benefit.

"This way, honey", Jolene said, picking up a key from a nail in the back wall.
She led Lucy out of the diner, to the outside facilities.

"Aw, wasn't that sweet?" Matt sneered. "Did you see, Davy? Holdin' hands
across the table. Sweet, or what?"

"Yeah", Davy chuckled. He couldn't seem to speak without snorting a laugh.
This was the kind of man that thinks a joy-buzzer is the pinnacle of wit.
"Sweet. She yore gal, mister?"

"Aye", I lied, hoping they would leave off if they short she was spoken for.
Just shows how bright I can be. "She's my girl, right enough".

"Well, you must be one helluva lucky son of a bitch". Matt smiled like a wolf.
"But you talk funny. What sort of a half-assed accent is that, anyway?"

"Scottish", I said. "I'm Scottish".

"Well, there you go". He sat down on the chair Lucy had vacated. "That's a
first for me. I never met no scottisher before".

"Hey, Matt", Davy chortled. "Guess what? Scottish spelled backwards is
'shittocs'.

"I'll be damned". Matt pushed his greasy cap further back on his head. "So it
is. What d'you think about that, Shittocs?"

"Look, fellas", I said, trying to keep a quaver out of my voice. As they say,
this was bad; real bad. "We don't want any trouble".

"Like Davy said, it ain't no trouble. Where're you two headed, Shittocs?"

"Och, just travelling".

He drew a rasping thumb along his jawline. Then his hand shot out like a
piston and grabbed my jaw. It was like having my face clamped in a vice.

"I asked you a question. I said, where you headed?" His cruel mouth was
twisted in a sneer and his eyes bored into mine like gimlets. I swallowed
hard. I was in deep shit, and I knew it.

The door opened with a rattle, and Jolene entered followed closely by Lucy.

"Matt Hanford!" Jolene called. "Just you leave that young fella be!"

"Jolene", Matt said, never taking his eyes off me. "Why don't you just shut
the fuck up? Me 'n' Shittocs here's just havin' a cosy chat. Ain't that right,
Shittocs?"

He jerked my chin up and down in a nodding motion. Lucy came closer to stand
as a point of a triangle that had Matt and Davy as the other two.

"Back off, mister", she said in a voice as quiet and deadly as a switchblade.
"Leave him alone".

Matt turned to face her, giving me a shove that rocked my chair dangerously
backward. A wide grin split his craggy features.

"A gal with spunk, eh? I like a spirited filly, ain't that right, Davy?"

"Yep. You shore do".

"Fetch her here".

Davy reached out and grabbed Lucy's arm. I half expected her to resist, but
she allowed herself to be yanked forward like any other girl. She even
appeared to struggle in his grasp. Davy pulled her to stand before Matt who
rose to his feet, towering above her like a massive, apparently dominating
presence. She stood between them like a delicious filling in an ugly sandwich.

"My, my, ain't you pretty? Pretty and feisty. I like that", Matt said in what
he imagined to be seductive tones. He cupped his big hand over her shoulder
and slid it down to her elbow. "Firm, too. I'm gonna enjoy this".

Lucy just eyed him with contempt. Then she flexed her elbow, trapping his hand
in the vee formed by her forearm and biceps, and squeezed.

"Geez!" Matt exclaimed in pain. The colour drained from his face and his knees
gave way a little as Lucy poured on the pressure. Crackling, gristly sounds
came from his tortured fingers.

"Uh, what's wrong, Matt?" Davy wasn't too quick on the uptake. Now I knew what
Lucy's reaction was going to be, I didn't have to worry. I sat back in my
chair and rubbed my sore chin reflectively.

"Christ, she's killing me!" Matt cursed. "Don't just stand there like a dumb
fuck! Get her off of me!" He grabbed hold of her wrist and tried to pull her
arm straight; might as well have hitched a rat to a locomotive.

Davy took just one step forward, meaning to assist his friend. Lucy speared
him with a glance, and her foot lashed out. He took the force of her kick
right in the knee. He screamed as his joint was wrenched the wrong way with a
crack like a bullwhip, and collapsed to the floor crying with agony. His leg
was bent at an unnatural angle, the joint capsule burst and the ligaments
torn.

Matt ignored his partner's plight. He was far too concerned with his own pain
to be bothered with Davy's. His face was contorted, as much with sudden fear
as with anything else. He was used to bullying his way through life, and
didn't know how to deal with someone so very much stronger than he was.
Especially when that someone was a slim and attractive woman.

He rammed his shoulder into Lucy's belly and tried to shove her back against
the counter. His feet scrabbled on the linoleum floor, but Lucy simply planted
her feet and stood there, immoveable as a tree.

He wrapped a brawny arm around her slender waist and tried to lift her from
the floor, grunting in surprise at her weight. Give him his due, he almost
made it. Under normal circumstances, and with both hands free, he was big
enough that he might have managed it, but as things were he had no chance.

"What kind of a bitch are you?" he growled through gritted teeth.

"The kind of bitch that's kicking your ass", Lucy replied pleasantly. "Had
enough?"

He couldn't find his voice. Men like him like to think they would rather die
than submit to a woman. He shook his head and reached out to seize her breast,
squeezing and twisting savagely.

"Ow!" Some things could cause even Lucy pain. "That's not playing nice".

She grabbed his thick forearm in her comparatively small hand, and dug her
thumb into the soft flesh of his inner wrist. There's a nerve plexus, just
there, and Matt's mouth opened and gasped soundlessly as his hand went numb.
He let go of her breast and sank to his knees. Lucy placed a dainty foot on
his chest and pushed him over backward, letting his hands drop.

"Now have you had enough?"

Sitting on his arse on the cold floor as he nursed his abused extremities,
Matt was unable to do anything but nod. At Lucy's feet, Davy continued to wail
in distress. Lucy turned to Jolene, who crouched behind the counter, watching
with eyes agog.

"Sorry about all this, ma'am".

"That's OK, honey". The woman's voice was tremulous as she wobbled out from
behind her counter. "These two have been asking for it for the longest time".
She looked down at Matt with contempt. "'Specially that one. It's been a long
time coming, and I never expected it'd be a pretty girl like you'd show it to
him. Something for me to remember in my old age".

I had watched Lucy's humiliation of the two thugs with fascination, and not a
little excitement. Davy, still writhing on the floor and clutching his ruined
knee, would need quite urgent medical attention, while Matt ... Matt was gathering
his feet under him, an ugly snarl of hate and rage on his face.

"Lucy, look out!" I managed to yell, just as the big brute launched himself at
her. Lucy spun to face him, and he ploughed into her headlong.

It must have been like running into a wall. Lucy met his charge and absorbed
the impact as he ran right into her. She never budged, but Matt staggered back
with a look of disbelief. He balled his big fist, the undamaged one, and
smashed it onto her vulnerable-looking belly. His wrist, already weakened and
painful from her earlier thumb treatment, jarred with the impact. He clutched
at it, shock written clearly on his face.

Lucy tutted and knotted her fist to return the compliment. It struck his
washboard belly with a meaty thud and he doubled over, gasping, once more down
on his knees.

"You just don't know when to give up, do you?" Lucy sighed as he struggled
back to his feet. She placed a hand under his chin and another on his belt,
and heaved.

Matt flew through the air, describing a perfect arc as the force of her throw
pitched him into the air and caused him to execute a neat somersault. He
landed belly-down on a tubular framed table, which disintegrated under him. He
groaned, momentarily stunned.

"You're going to have to knock him out, honey", I heard Jolene advise. "I seen
him like this before. He just keeps coming until he or the other fella's out
for the count".

It was all I could do to keep from applauding. As it was, my heart was
pounding and my mouth was dry. Her display of power was so relaxed, so casual,
that it all but took my breath away. I was very erect and in a state of high
arousal, wondering what it would take to make Lucy want me like I wanted her.

Matt had climbed to his feet yet again. As he came up, Lucy placed her hand on
the back of his head and forced him back to his knees. She slung her leg over
his back as if mounting a pony and straddled his thick neck, clamping her
jean-clad thighs tight around his throat, shutting off his carotid arteries.

I watched in silence, eyes riveted to the scene, coming close to wishing it
was my head between those lush thighs.

Matt gurgled. His thick fingers plucked uselessly at her iron thighs. He tried
to lift her, tried to prise her legs apart with his strong hands. His face
suffused with blood, and his eyes started from his head. He knew real panic as
his vision began to blur, and his tongue protruded as he struggled for air.

Air wasn't his immediate problem. It was the lack of blood to his brain that
was about to be his downfall. Gradually, his attempts to fight back grew more
and more feeble. He sagged against her, only the grip of her thighs about his
neck holding him up. Finally, his hands fell to the floor as he passed out.

Lucy released him, and his big body collapsed to the ground. She immediately
knelt on his side and rolled him into the recovery position, ensuring his
airway was clear. She didn't want him to die, didn't want any more people to
die on her account.

"Lucy, I think we should be going", I said, noting a tremble of excitement in
my voice. I picked up her jacket and left the table. "Sorry about the damage,
Jolene".

"Now, don't you worry about that". Her smooth but fleshy jowls shook as she
gave a little chuckle. "I had you figured for a coward, the way you just sat
there, but I reckon you knew you didn't need to help out, huh?" She turned to
Lucy. "You're something else, ain't you, honey? I never have seen such
strength in a woman before. Man, neither, come to think about it. I reckon you
better be on your way, before these two start hollering for the sheriff".

"Thank you for being so understanding", Lucy said, shrugging into her jacket.
"Again, sorry for the damage. We haven't got much money, but if there's
anything we can do."

"If either of you can drive a big rig, maybe you could move that great thing
away from the front of my roadhouse".

"Glad to", I said.

"These men need a doctor", Lucy remarked. Always caring, that girl.

"I'll see to that. After you've gone".

I moved the roadtrain for her. Then we jumped on our bike, and were gone.