"Oh, for Christ sake!" Howard snapped. "Will everybody just shut up and relax! You've all been watching too much Goddamned TV. This is real life, not TV." He started to say more, but his words were drowned out by the droning roar of the four cycles as they suddenly rounded the bend.

Crystal, still looking back, felt her heart swell and tighten in her chest as the four huge cycles and their savage-looking riders slid into view, closing fast on the car. Within seconds two of the growling machines were prowling past the station wagon, one on each side, while the other two cycles fell in behind the car. One bear-like cyclist, a black patch over his left eye, winked at Crystal as he slid by, the sun glinting off his half-bald scalp and off his gold earring. Crystal slid down in her seat, hiding herself like a little girl.

"Holy shit!" Randy said, watching the other cyclist pass on his side. He was a wiry, dark-haired youth.

Crystal caught sight of a large blue swastika tatooed on the youth's bare left shoulder and of a gleaming silver hunting knife, the blade of which was clamped between the youth's front teeth.

"Howard, run them down," June said hysterically. "Kill them before they kill us."

"Let's not lose our heads," Howard said, slowing the car as the two cyclists cut in front of him and decelerated. "They're just playing games."

The huge cyclist suddenly put up his hand and stopped his machine. Howard hit the brakes to avoid hitting him. The cyclists all cut their engines, and suddenly the idling of the station wagon sounded pathetically weak in the stillness of the canyon.

"Stay calm," Howard half whispered, his voice quavering.

The big man swung off his cycle and ambled up to the side of the car. His denim vest, stained with black grease, fell open at the front, displaying his enormous hairy beer belly, which appeared to sway as he walked.

"Afternoon," Howard said, his attempt at a friendly tone completely unconvincing.