Jilly, Stan, and Daniel entered the plane, followed by both of the stairway guards, who positioned themselves in the entryway by the cockpit. This let Daniel know that Jilly knew exactly who Stan the Man was and what he was capable of.

Jilly led them to the passenger compartment, and sat with the two gang members at a table with four chairs. It appeared to be a lounge room, with rich leather seats, a plush couch, and even a small, stocked bar. There was a red curtain covering a doorway that led to the tail end of the plane.

“You know why we are here,” the gang leader began.

“You know my rules bounty hunter. Pleasure before business, and after.” The sexy woman smiled as she stared deep into Daniel’s light blue eyes with her dark smokey gaze. It would be a lie to say that she wasn’t super attractive, but the woman made Daniel uneasy.

Jilly poured them each a glass of dark liquid from an expensive looking glass decanter. Daniel cautiously took a sip, and realized that it was brandy. Expensive brandy at that. He couldn’t help but notice that Jillian was quite curvy in her nearly transparent night clothes.

“It’s been a while since the Dirty Down and Dead have graced me with your presence. Stanley, I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve had to pick up some new members again,” she said, looking Daniel up and down. He was starting to feel like a piece of meat sitting on a plate in front of a starving cat.

“What can I say, it’s a rough business. Did you see what is happening up in Chico?” he asked.

“Same as what they did in San Diego,” she answered, biting her lower lip.

“Yes, but I thought that they had a deal with the overseers,” Stan the Man inquired.

“I wouldn’t call it a deal. Much like my clan, the folks in Chico had a parley. As long as they provided the monthly bounty, they were left alone. Unlike us, they didn’t have clearly defined boundaries and were sloppy. A few months ago, they took out a whole group of seekers. Probably just a misunderstanding, but as we all know, you don’t want to be on the losing end of a misunderstanding with the overseers. Bad for business. The aliens came in force and smashed the people holed up there. Not that there were many left anyways,” the pretty woman explained.

Daniel was understanding the situation better now. The Sacramento Clan was the same as the bounty hunters, only they weren’t mobile. They were collecting bounties as well; except they were paid by not being attacked. He wondered if all of the clans had similar deals. Everyone seemed to be playing very sinister angles to keep their small empires going.

“Speaking of business, do you have a trade?” he asked.

The black-haired beauty took a long pull at her brandy with her full red lips. Daniel also couldn’t help but notice that her nails were meticulously done, as well as her makeup. She set the glass down and slid it on the table between her hands while contemplating.

“Luckily for you, our tribunal just convicted three criminals yesterday. Two thieves and a murderer. He killed one of our working girls. I can’t politically get away with giving you a thief, but I can trade the murderer. What do you have for me Stanley?”

The gang leader reached into his pack and pulled out four of the fragmentation grenades. Daniel noticed that her eyes lit up, although she remained composed. Apparently, grenades were a rare commodity. That made sense since most people seemed to be running out of bullets. Grenades had to be rare, Daniel thought.

“The grenades are of great interest to me, as we haven’t seen these in a bit. Still, bounties are becoming more and more rare. Do you have any more than four?” she questioned.

“No, but I wish we did. It’s hard to find anything of value out there with all of those damn seekers sucking everything away,” Stan the Man lied to her without flinching.

Well then, I guess you are just going to have to sweeten the deal,” Jilly negotiated. “How about you throw in a night with this tall glass of water?”

It hadn’t escaped Daniel’s attention that although the woman was talking to Stan, she hadn’t taken her eyes off him, for more than a second. He found himself wondering how old she was. He guessed about his age, somewhere between thirty and thirty-five.

“That sounds fair,” Stan the Man said, smiling his signature grin.

“Deal, Stanley?” she questioned, holding out her hand.

“Deal,” Stan agreed and shook her hand.

“Do I have a say in this?” Daniel asked.

“No,” they both answered.

Stan stood up, leaving the grenades on the table, and headed for the door. Before he exited, he said, “And Jillian, this time no permanent damage.”

“Oh Stanley, you used to be much more fun. Set your boys up in the usual quarters. I will send over some presents. Oh, and as a bonus, I will warn you that the Jackals were here about a month ago, asking about you,” she said.

“They won’t be back. Your new boy toy here took out most of them himself.” With that comment, he was gone.

“What’s your name?” she asked, pouring them both another drink.

“Dat,” he answered, taking a long sip while watching the woman.

“Not your street name. What’s your real name,” she prodded.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” he smiled.

“Jilly is short for Jillian. Jillian Johnson. My stage name was Jewel. I was a stripper before the invasion. Now I am a clan leader, living on an executive Airbus that would’ve cost nearly four hundred million dollars in the old days. Life is funny that way. Your turn.” She bit her lower lip again. He wasn’t sure if it was a nervous habit, or if she just did it while contemplating, but he liked it.

“I was born Daniel Allen Taylor. Dat for short,” he revealed.

“That’s cute. A Danny huh?” She smiled.

“Only my wife calls me that.” He frowned.

“You are married?” she asked, although he was certain that she wouldn’t care.

“Yes. Was. I am sure that she’s long gone now, along with my two children,” he sighed.

“Okay, this turned dark and gloomy,” she said with a grimace. “Let’s get this train back on track.”

The black-haired beauty stood up and grabbed his hand, pulling Daniel to his feet. She pulled him back towards the red curtain. Once they went through, he no longer had to wonder what was back there. It was her private quarters.

The walls were made of rich mahogany and had several cabinets in them. There was a small bathroom and closet towards the rear. The most noticeable feature was the queen-sized bed in the middle of the room with the mirrors on the ceiling. He also saw a loaded AK-47 resting against a cabinet.

When she pulled him towards the bed he resisted, causing her to release his hand. Jillian turned, imitating a ‘pouty’ face and voice, saying, “Why the pouty sad face. Do you not like what you see, Daniel?”

“Who wouldn’t?” he answered truthfully. “But I like to be asked.”

Jilly dropped all of her clothes onto the floor in a move that only a former stripper could master, revealing that she hadn’t lost her dancer’s body, saying in a very seductive voice, “This is me asking.”

"Damn,” Daniel whispered, thinking that this might be a mistake, but knowing full well that he was going to make it.

Daniel spent the night with her, although they didn’t sleep. She started out very aggressive, biting and scratching him, exerting control. He allowed it for a while, but soon turned the tables on her and dominated the evening. They exited the living quarters exhausted, but equally satisfied. After a breakfast of fruit, nuts, and bread, Stan came to collect him.

“I don’t know if I should apologize or congratulate you Dat.” Stan whistled, admiring the scratches and bite marks on his arms and neck after they had left the plane.

While they walked to the hangar that housed the gang, the lanky black-haired leader continued, “Geez Dat, I can’t thank you enough for making that incredible sacrifice for the team. You are such a giving person. Once again, your selfless act has provided the crew with another bounty,” the biker leader teased him.

“Knock it off, Stanley,” Daniel fired back at his boss.

When they entered the hangar, the other gang members began clapping and whistling. Obviously, Stan the Man had shared the nature of his deal with the rest of the bikers. The loud noise woke up five women that Jilly must have provided for the gang. They looked worn out and used up, having the tired eyes that women in their profession often did. The prostitutes grabbed their clothes and left.

The Dirty Down and Dead spent nine days with the Sacramento Clan, enjoying all of the improprieties that they had to offer. Women, drinks, food, bathhouses, and gambling. Daniel spent almost every night with the clan leader, on her airbus. The food and drinks were the best that the clan had to offer, and he certainly couldn’t complain about the company. He also learned some things.

First, he found out that Jillian was his age, thirty-two. She had been born in Iowa City, Iowa, but like thousands of other starstruck teenagers, she had made her way out to LA with the dream of becoming an actress. Reality set in, and she had ended up working in one of the many strip clubs.

He also found out that she was well aware that their days were numbered. She believed that it was only a matter of time before the overseers moved on her compound. She had escape routes through the sewers and aqueducts set up for her thousand plus residents, once the enemy did come.

“They have devoured San Diego and everything south of there. I have heard that many of the bigger cities east of Denver are also gone. Now Chico. They are closing in from all sides. It is only a matter of time before they want Sacramento, Oakland, and San Francisco,” she had revealed to him in a moment of weakness, letting her calm, controlled, tough exterior wall down for a moment.

Her clan had supplies and weapons stored underground for an extended siege once the attack came. Daniel was surprised when she readily agreed to join him if he somehow managed to get a resistance going. But for now, the Sacramento Clan didn’t rock the boat.

For the last few days, she had started to try and convince Daniel to stay with her and her clan. She said that she would make Stan an offer that he couldn’t refuse for him. It would be dishonest if he didn’t admit that it was a tempting offer. But he was still driven by his desire to get south. Again, it wasn’t Alcatraz that drove him. He wanted, no needed to go to Oceanside. To his old apartment. He needed to know how it had ended for his family.

On the ninth day, Horndog got into an altercation with a man in one of the local dives. The man turned out to be a member of the Sacramento Clan Tribunal. Now he was a member with two black eyes and a missing tooth.

Daniel was actually surprised that it had taken this long for the gang to find trouble. Stan decided that it was time to get out of Sacramento before the tribunal had time to act on the situation. The Dirty Down and Dead were heading out in the morning.

Daniel’s last night with Jilly, she took his hand and warned him, “Don’t trust Stan the Man. He will betray you in a second if it meant saving his own skin.” The words were wasted, because he was already well aware of what the gang leader was capable of. The last night was passionate, and Daniel was honestly sad to leave.

True to her word, a bound and gagged man was delivered to the bikers at the main gate. He had a “friar tuck” hair style, and looked to be in his mid-fifties. Daniel and Horndog loaded him into Scooter’s side car and off they rode on their loud rumbling hogs.

The crew made their way back to Interstate 80 and headed west. A short time later they passed through Davis and continued on to the city of Fairfield. They stopped there because they had a storage shed, command module, and prisoner pad, which they cuffed the murderer to.

Later that night, Daniel asked the group,” What do you all know about Travis Airforce Base?”

“The old air station on the other side of town?” Hambone asked.

“That’s the one,” Daniel answered.

“You thinking about the weapons?” Tiny asked.

“I am sure that there are some good weapons there.” Stan the man joined in the conversation, adding, “We are staying clear of military bases. A bounty crew called ‘Devils Don’t Die’ all got radiation sickness and died, proving their moniker wrong. Their main camp had been on Edwards Airforce Base, and word on the street had been that it was a military weapon leak that killed them. Crews steered way clear of those places after that. There’s no reason to take a risk like that since we have overseers’ batons.”

Daniel never let on that he had been on Travis before. Later that night, they removed the murderer’s gag so that he could eat. After he finished off a can of pairs, he cussed the bikers up and down until they replaced his gag. The bikers pulled an old crate from the shed, that still contained several Frosty Dogs.

They enjoyed an evening of loud music, heavy drinking, and a huge bonfire. Horndog got so drunk that he started burning down houses and then kept trying to climb on top of the murderer and dry hump him, while screaming, “You my boy!”

 Finally, Stan had Hambone and Dat cuff Horndog to the pad, away from the now terrified murderer. After falling asleep, Horndog cut several loud farts and pissed himself. Daniel doubted that the prisoner slept much that night.

They spent several days in Fairfield, spending the daytime checking the nearby towns of Mankas Corner, Rockville, Suisun City, and Vacaville. Again, they found a lot of evidence of recent habitation, but found no actual people. Daniel was now certain that their loud motorcycles gave the hunted survivors time to flee. Now it was the thirtieth day.

First thing in the morning, they ungagged the murderer and asked him if he had any last words, to which he responded, “I’m going to kill you all. Mark my words, I’m going to come back and rip out your filthy hearts and stomp on them with my boot. You all are gonna die, gonna pay for this with---"

Stan the Man blasted him in the middle of his rant, saying, “He is going to a food and sex buffet. I don’t see the need to listen to his raving lunacy.” With that, they earned themselves a resupply and had thirty more days of freedom.

The gang rode to the large town of Vallejo, where they set up in a church. They spent the next week in that town, chasing around a pair of young men that they had spotted on the second day. The men rabbited several times, but after a couple of foot pursuits, they outran the older overweight gang members.

Daniel ran them down the final time, huffing and puffing as he finally cornered them in an alleyway. They stared at him like frightened mice. Daniel merely made a gun with his hand and cocked it with his thumb. He pointed it at them and said, “Bang! Bang!”

The men stared incredulously at him and his simulated finger gun, yet stayed frozen in fear, causing him to say, “This is the part where you run away, before my partners show up and shoot you for real.”

The shocked men fled after that, and weren’t seen again. The motorcycle gang left the town, with a very disappointed Horndog, and took Interstate 80 to the Carquinez Bridge. The northbound side was blown up and laid peeking out of the water like some kind of concrete sea monster, but the southbound side was still passable.

Once they crossed, they spent two days in Crockett. The town creeped Daniel out. Somebody, for unknown reasons, had spent their time setting up manikins all over the town--in buildings, parks, and on the streets, posed in different positions. They found no real people, and he was glad when they left the weird place. Besides, Horndog had kept walking up to the faux people and pretended to hump them.

The biker crew followed I-80 southbound into the city of Hercules. While they were looking for a place to hole up, several shots rang out. Somebody was shooting at them with a sniper rifle. One of the bullets tore through Horndogs engine. His Harley immediately began to spark and smoke, but took him out of the sniper’s range, before it stopped running. They pulled off to discuss the situation.

“What do you think Dat?” Stan the Man asked. “Do you think you could take that sniper out if we went back?”

“Hmmm. He is an experienced sharpshooter. We were moving at a good clip, and still he managed to put a round in one of our bikes. I might have a decent chance if I had more than one round for the M40 rifle.” He shook his head, looking at Horndog.

“Oh, come on man, we are all past that,” the southerner moaned.

“Okay, so you think we should pass him by?” Stan inquired.

“Guess it all depends on what we have coming up,” Daniel answered.

“Well, we are heading for Oakland. Last time we were there, their clan was fat, running at least a thousand people. It was easy pickins’, until a large black fellow named Big Jim took over. He is as big as Tiny, but his weight is all muscle. Might not be so easy to score, but I have a plan,” Stan the Man said.

“Not my fault that my six-pack abs turned into a keg,” Tiny quipped.

“Well, if you have a plan, I say that we skip this sniper. No sense losing anyone this close to so many other bounties,” Daniel suggested. The others had realized, and accepted that Dat had slipped into Stan’s second-in-command position.

“Okay, we will continue on and hole up in Richmond,” Stan agreed.

The gang continued steadily south, with Horndog riding in Scooter’s side car. Once they reached Richmond, they set up camp in the main library. After a dinner of canned plums, they spent the evening burning books in a fire barrel in the main room. When Daniel stepped out to relieve himself, he saw a shadowy figure watching them from the roof of a nearby building.

When he went back inside to tell them, Stan told him that the Oakland Clan sent scouts out this far, and guessed that the man was probably one of those. Still, they set up a rotating watch throughout the night. The rest of the evening was uneventful, and by morning, everyone was well rested.

The gang noticed a dozen or so seekers working down the street. Some were tearing off aluminum siding from a building and throwing it into a brown power circle while others were prying pieces off cars and were tossing their collected objects into gray power circles.

Another was taking the rubber tires and was rolling them into a black power circle. Then Daniel saw one standing at a gas pump, running a gas nozzle. He was pouring a steady stream of fuel into an orange power circle.

When they left the library to check buildings, Daniel saw yet another two seekers collecting clothing and plastics. The cloth items went into a purple power circle, while the plastic items went into a yellow one. The damn things were slowly, but steadily, picking the planet clean. He knew that if the human race were going to survive, then the seekers needed to be taken out.

They spent three more days holed up in the Richmond library, while Stan and Scooter made trips into Oakland, looking for the clan that resided there. It seemed that the Oakland Clan lived in the sewers and underground areas, moving about frequently. When Stan and Scooter failed to find the targeted group, the bikers moved further south into Berkeley, setting up camp at Edwards Stadium.

It looked like it had once been a refugee center, with cots, suitcases, and even a medical center at the far end. The whole scene brought back bad memories for Daniel, reminding him of the night that he had been taken by the overseers. He tried not to think about it too much. Now the place was eerily quiet and empty of people. Once again, they spent three nights at this location.

On the evening of the third day, Stan the Man called them all together, saying, “Okay, we found them. They are in the viaduct tunnels by Mills College, near the old El Campanil tower. Further south than we expected.”

Daniel learned that Stan knew this area well, because he had been born and raised in Oakland. The gang spent another week in the stadium, searching for any possible stragglers, hoping to score an easy bounty.

At day twenty-three, Stan the Man announced that they were going to move to the El Campanil Tower. They parked their bikes a couple of miles away, hiding them in another gas station. Then they walked to the historical site.

Daniel hadn’t been familiar with the old stone clock tower. Once they were there, he saw that it was rectangular and had five stories. It was over seventy feet tall and had ten bells on the top floor, where Stan placed a rotating watch to keep an eye on the nearby manhole covers and a large viaduct tunnel entrance farther away. The next day, Stan the Man laid out his plan.

“I am gonna place Dat on the top floor of this tower with his sniper rifle. It has been some time, but we have traded with this clan in the past, taking troublemakers off their hands. I say that we fly the white flag and maybe send Scooter over to chat with Big Jim. I would go, but during our last encounter, I cut off part of Big Jim’s ear,” Stan explained.

“You sure do know how to make friends,” Dat shook his head, causing Stan the Man to grin.

“Anyways, we will send Scooter over with one of those frag grenades. I have faith that Dat here can drop Big Jim with his one bullet. That’ll be Scooter’s signal to toss his grenade into the biggest group of them. The rest of us will run in and try to blast a couple with our batons. With the grenade explosion and the death of their leader, the rest will most likely flee in panic. We should be able to grab at least a couple of them, and possibly get some wounded ones from the grenade. That should hold us over for quite a while. What do you all think?”

“If you can get Big Jim within a hundred yards, I will drop him,” Daniel assured them.

“I like it, batos. I have been itching to get my hands on one of those firecrackers.” Scooter laughed. “But once I toss it, the rest of you better come in fast.”

“We got you brother,” Tiny reassured him,

“Yes. Tiny, Hambone and I will be hiding nearby in that little shed out front. We will come out right after the explosion. I will keep Horndog back here with Dat, in case things go badly. Then he can cover us while we fall back into the tower,” Stan the Man strategized.

Nobody argued with the plan.

“So, let’s do this. Tomorrow at noon.” Stan the Man seemed pleased.

Daniel had no intention of letting the bikers drop a grenade onto a bunch of survivors. Later that night he pulled Hambone aside. He told the man that if things didn’t go according to plan, he should make his way back to the tower and stay there until they could regroup, intimating that things were not going to go according to plan.