action, Tanner was grateful for the deafening sound. There was no doubt that Samantha now knew of their presence. For his part, he stood casually leaning against the car while scanning for their leader. The man was easy enough to find, wearing a distinctive black helmet designed to look like the alien hunter from Predator , complete with built-in nylon dreadlocks.
Tanner had been around men like these for much of his life, and he knew that his best chance of surviving the encounter was to play it cool. He fully expected that they would test him, and if he showed weakness, they would kill him for sport.
After a few seconds, Predator raised one hand into the air, and the entire gang killed their engines in unison. Several of the riders, including the leader, pulled off their helmets and dismounted. Predator was a tall man with a thick black mustache that wrapped around to merge with long bushy sideburns.
“Whatcha doin’, big man?” he asked, showing off a silver front tooth.
“Just finished having my lunch,” Tanner said with a yawn.
“Out here?” the man asked, waving his arms. “On my highway?”
Tanner shrugged. “What can I say? This is where I was at lunchtime.”
Predator leaned around to peer into the Escalade.
“Anyone else in there?”
“Nope. I’m what you’d call a loner.”
He motioned for a couple of his men to take a look. They circled around and looked in through the side windows. When they were satisfied, they both shook their heads.
“I can see from the tat on your arm that you did some time,” said Predator. “What were you in for? Purse snatching?”
Several bikers laughed and pushed against one another like high school jocks.
“How’d you guess?” Tanner said with a smile.
Predator squinted his eyes, studying him.
“You know... I was going to ask if you wanted to join my merry band. But I’m beginning to think that you’d just be a pain in my ass. Am I right?”
Tanner nodded. “Afraid so.”
“Then we got ourselves a bit of a dilemma.”
Tanner didn’t like the sound of that. Any time a thug felt the need to use the word dilemma , dollars to donuts he was planning on killing you.
“No dilemma,” said Tanner. “We both go on our way, no worse for the wear.”
Predator made an almost imperceptible nod, and one of the bikers suddenly lunged forward, stabbing a small stiletto at Tanner’s gut.
Tanner sidestepped, caught the man’s wrist, and twisted it hard. The ulna snapped with an audible snick , and the man dropped the knife. Tanner leaned forward and hit him with a half-fist to his Adam’s apple, sending him stumbling back with blood bubbling from his mouth.
Two other men moved in on him. One carried a pipe wrench, and the other a long red cattle prod. Tanner stepped forward and kicked the first man in the groin, lifting him off the ground and sending his eyes rolling up in his head. He immediately doubled over and toppled sideways on the pavement, groaning.
The second man stabbed forward with the cattle prod. Tanner knocked it away and punched him hard on the jaw. Teeth separated from gums, flying across the hood of the Escalade. He too fell to the ground, moaning and cupping his bloody mouth.
Tanner whipped the .44 Magnum out from behind his back and leveled it at Predator. A dozen or more bikers scrambled to raise their own firearms.
“They’ll kill you if you pull that trigger,” Predator said. His face was beginning to lose its color.
“I’m sure. But that won’t help them reattach your head.”
Predator glanced left and right at his men. It was the type of impasse that was difficult to see how to get past. Before anyone could offer a way forward, the man with the cattle prod rolled over and stuck it to Tanner’s calf. One hundred thousand volts of electricity shocked his system, causing every muscle in his body to spasm. The pistol fell from Tanner’s grip, clattering to the ground, as his legs buckled under him.
Nearly a