"Who was that?"
"My brother."
"How many people are coming?"
Lucas hesitated.
"Maybe a few dozen."
Eleanor stared.
"A few dozen?"
Marcus corrected him.
"Probably more."
Eleanor crossed her arms.
"This is my house."
Lucas nodded.
"Yes."
"No fighting here."
"We won't."
"No shooting."
"We'll try."
"No burning anything."
Marcus raised his hand.
"I promise."
Eleanor looked at Lucas.
"Do you promise?"
Lucas smiled.
"I promise."
She nodded.
"Then you can stay."
By noon, Red Hollow had become tense.
People noticed unfamiliar vehicles.
Black SUVs.
Pickup trucks.
Men they didn't recognize.
The sheriff's deputies patrolled the roads.
Nobody knew what was happening.
Eleanor went into town for groceries.
As she walked through the general store, conversations stopped.
The storekeeper looked nervous.
"Mrs. Hayes."
"Yes?"
"You've got visitors."
Eleanor pretended not to understand.
"What kind?"
"Motorcycle people."
She smiled.
"Friends."
The storekeeper lowered his voice.
"They're asking questions."
"What kind?"
"About Black Ridge."
Eleanor's expression changed.
"Who told you about Black Ridge?"
The storekeeper looked away.
"People talk."
Eleanor knew that wasn't the answer.
She bought flour.
Coffee.
Canned vegetables.
Bandages.
Then she left.
As she walked toward her truck, a deputy approached.
"Mrs. Hayes."
She stopped.
"Yes?"
"The sheriff wants to speak with you."
"I don't want to speak with him."
"He says it's important."
"Tell him I'm busy."
The deputy looked uncomfortable.
"Eleanor."
She looked at him.
"You're young."
"Yes."
"You have children?"
"Two."
"Then you should learn something early."
"What?"
"Don't confuse obedience with loyalty."
The deputy stared at her.
She drove home.
That evening, Lucas found Eleanor sitting on the porch.
"You're worried."
She looked at him.
"Of course."
"About us?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"My town."
Lucas sat beside her.
"Red Hollow has been quiet for decades."
"Quiet isn't the same as safe."
He nodded.
She looked toward the mountains.
"Who is Black Ridge?"
Lucas answered:
"They're organized."
"How organized?"
"Enough to have people in law enforcement."
Eleanor looked at him.
"The sheriff?"
"Possibly."
"How do you know?"
"Because he found us too quickly."
She nodded.
"That's what I thought."
Lucas looked at her.
"You aren't surprised."
"No."
"Why?"
Eleanor took a breath.
"Because my husband disappeared twenty years ago."
Lucas turned toward her.
"What?"
"He was a forest ranger."
"What happened?"
"They said he fell from a cliff."
Lucas was silent.
"But you don't believe it."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because he wasn't careless."
Eleanor looked toward the mountains.
"He knew those trails better than anyone."
Lucas said nothing.
"Three days before he died, he told me he'd discovered something."
"What?"
"He wouldn't say."
"Did he mention Black Ridge?"
"That name didn't exist then."
Lucas nodded.
"Maybe not by that name."
Eleanor looked at him.
"Maybe you've been chasing the same people my husband found."
Lucas's expression became serious.
"We need to know what he discovered."
Eleanor stood.
"Then tomorrow we go to the mountain."
The next morning, the road began to shake.
At first, people thought it was an earthquake.
Windows rattled.
Dogs barked.
Coffee cups trembled on kitchen tables.
Then came the sound.
One motorcycle.
Then five.
Then twenty.
Then fifty.
The mountain road filled with headlights.
Dozens of motorcycles appeared between the trees.
Black.
Silver.
Red.
Blue.
Some old.
Some modern.
Some carrying medical equipment.
Others carrying rescue gear.
The riders wore the Iron Valley patch.
People came out of their houses.
Children watched from sidewalks.
The motorcycles rolled into Red Hollow like a storm.