Ramrod: Riders on the Storm
Ramrod thrummed the engine of the '36 Knucklehead Harley, and rode off down the hill. The Truck paced behind him, and he made his way to the shop. He could see them behind him, he knew they were watching him, so he showed them what he could do.
He showed them that he knew how to ride.
Steel knows the deal. Good. He'll be useful. He's been through this before, with Razorback out in New Mexico. Damn, Razorback. One hardcore motherfucker. But he didn't bring Steel over, and I ain't heard nothing about no rengade Ghouls out there, so I guess he ain't just in it for the blood. Otherwise...I could be fucked.
The convoy hit the highway, and Ramrod punched it, the truck struggled to keep up but he gave them a break.
A real crew, I can finally get this shop off the ground. They got a shitload to learn, but they got potential. If I can win the race, and bring them under me.
But, I already got Steel. Steel knows the deal.
Ramrod pulled up to the shop. The riders in the truck thought maybe it might be abandoned, so far out of the city, all by itself in the middle of nowhere. They got out, Ramrod opened the overhead doors, and they off loaded the bikes, and rolled them into the shop.
No drug running, no whores, no shakedowns. They are clean. Good. They won't be looked at too closely. When I start this thing for real. When I get the other gangs in line. Winning this rally for the Freedom Seekers will be a big start.
Then I won't need the fucking covenants, or thier pawns. I'll have my own muscle to draw from. And it all starts with the Freedom Seekers.
Shit, I gotta change that name.