Beatty whereabouts (Route 95), 25/11/2011
Beatty. It sounds funny to Brazilian ears... pretty much like 'beatified'.
But it must mean something else... this 'gringo' idiom always playing me tricks.
By foot. She wants me to do it ... by foot, and that damned crow...
How can she find me anywhere I go? That's scaring.
I'd not heared her yet, but I bet that she is just over me, watchful.
I was cruising the Veterans Highway since yesterday, and a couple of hours ago I'd noticed the lights of the Beatty town.
It don't seems to be big, so I think I'll need to be very carefull when hunting there.
I'm not hungry yet, as Simon's blood is still fuelling my steps, but I'll not miss the opportunity to fill the tank.
It'll be a long journey... and I must to be always ready for anything.
I was walking some yards away from the highway border, just to be sure that some drunk driver wouldn't hit me unaware.
Yes it happens very often when you are driving to or from Vegas. Then the sounds of wings over my head and ...
"Koww-Koww-Koww"
Badb landed on a highway sign and began that annoying noise.
Before I could reach the sign, another noise came from the road.
The deep and bass sound of that heavy American motorcycles. It scared the crow, and Badb flew away.
As I'd never saw one of those choppers, I thought it will make no bad if I just hang near the sign to look them pass.
They came in three, not too fast. Imponent without doubt.
Two of them with chicks on the back seat. The other one, leading, was alone.
But when the big, bearded and fat guy passed by me our beasts knew themselves.
When the other two passed they just confirmed what I've felt.
A coterie, no, worst... a gang.
The choppers slowed down and, without stopping, they made a big counter clock-wise return, using all the highway to do it without any fear as it was pretty desert.
The sound of the motors that already were aloud became more and more strong as they approached me.
They kept the lights at my face, watching me while they were talking among themselves - in Spanish.
Then the lights were turned off.
"- żQue haces en nuestra estrada cabrón?"
It seems that the boss just thought I would not understand him, and laughed at my face followed by his mates and their bitches.
Besides Portuguese and Spanish not being the same thing, I can pick much of what is said - most of the time.
The fucking Exu ordering me to yell some offensive words in reply.
However, I know some maths... and three, or five, is too much to handle alone.
Shut up Exu! I'll deal with them, my way!
The beast became furious inside me... but obeyed.
"- Que estrada?"
I said with a defying smile and pointing to the ground - the sign, and me, were outside the highway, of course.
After some seconds, they stopped to laugh.
The engines were abruptelly silenced.
They get out of the motorcycles. The girls stayed.
"- You've undesrtood me, cabrón, what the fuck are you doing in my road?"
The big fat guy got close, so close that I could smear the old blood stench on his jacket.
"- I'm just trying to get out of your fucking road. I'm looking for a new city."
He laughed again.
"- Don't you think that a vehicle could make it easier?"
Thank you Eve, for that.
I didn't wish to tell all my story. All I want is to get rid of them.
"- Are you seeing any vehicle with me?"
"- Hijo de puta! Watch your words! It had being a good time that we don't ash anybody."
Just after the boss said that, his mates showed me their claws.
Fuck... I'm dead.
"- As I told you, the only thing I want is to reach some place. I'm not looking for trouble."
The fat man laugh again.
"- Too late cabrón. We are the trouble incarnate! But you are lucky tonight..."
He laugh louder and louder.
"- Jesus needs you! Will you disappoint Jesus?"
More laughs.
One of the clawed guys, came closer. It was short, bald, and from Spanic ascent.
"- This bastard just get into the Bruja! He needs his first trophy. Guess what? You got beautiful ears!"
I think that ashed ears would not make a good trophy, but I get what he meant.
Well, one-to-one... better than fight the five at once.
"- If I beat him, I'm free to go?"
Laughs, laughs, laughs.
And then, Jesus, spoke.
"- If you beat me you can take my babe!"
The other two seemed surprised with that.
"- Thanks, but I rather choose my own bitches..."
Laughs.
And the last of the tree finally spoke, a towering black guy.
"- Idiot! He meant his Harley! Not his food."
Without much options left, I took it.
"- Okay, any rules?"
Laughs and more laughs again.
The boss said:
"- Hmm... yeah. There are some rules."
At each "You cabrón!" the boss pointed his fat finger to my nose. The other two laughing all the time.
"- You, cabrón! Needs only to survive."
"- You, cabrón! Shaw you kill Jesus and we got your ass ashed!"
"- You, cabrón! Got ashed and we'll pray for your soul!"
They was really getting a lot of fun with that.
I took my jacket off, throwing it near the backpack and the berimbau.
"- Ok then. I think I'll just make Jesus to have a good sleep..."
Saying that I made a mortal jump backwards, and started the 'gimga'.
The fat boss and the black man enjoyed it.
Jesus? He stopped to laugh.
We started to fight.
Jesus was fast, very fast. Celerity of course.
He tried to hit me with his claws at the first opportunity. However, he didn't knew how to fight - at least nothing beyond that clumsy blows.
For some time, I just kept dodging his blows. Studying his movements.
That made him went nuts. And so I begin to hit him...
A jab then another jab, and after I getting 'right distance', I begin to show him, what is "capoeira".
I strike his neck with a powerful side kick - we call it "rabo de arraia".
He stared to the boss, as if asking for help. The fat man just laugh at him.
I kept dodging, waiting for their mates to end the match. But it didn't happen.
Jesus didn't knew how to fight, but he'd claws... So I decided to finish him.
After some other blows I striked him with one of my favored sequences, kicking his throat and his face and, after moving behind him, his spine.
On the last one, a 'crack' sound was heard, and Jesus went torpid.
I heard three shots.
Looking behind the boss was lowering his arm, putting his smoking gun on the belt.
"- Nice fight cabrón! What is that? Karate?"
I thought about explaining Capoeira to him, but no, thanks.
"- Yes. Will you keep your word?"
The black man shoot me in the chest, once. Then said:
"- Bruja always keep their words."
I took it as an advice, and just heal it up.
The black guy took Jesus and put him on his chopper, ordering his girl to go with the boss.
The small Jesus, tied in a clumsy way, looking like a bizzar backpack on his back.
So, they leave, laughing...
They left the Jesus chick behind, with the motorcycle.
She seemed drugged or drunk.
It should be a bonus...