Gideon smiled.
His beard had become almost entirely white.
The Iron Revenants were still there.
Older.
Slower.
Some faces missing.
New ones added.
Earl Wilkes had retired, although he appeared at the shop every morning and complained about how Noah organized his tools.
Elena sat beneath a shade canopy wearing an oxygen cannula and smiling at everyone who passed.
Noah looked toward her.
Then at Gideon.
“You know what today is?”
“Opening day.”
“Tuesday.”
Gideon looked at him.
Noah smiled.
“Funny, isn't it?”
“What?”
“Tuesdays used to scare me.”
Gideon said nothing.
“I used to wake up wondering whether the check would come.”
Noah looked through the open workshop doors.
“Whether we'd have food. Whether Mom would get medicine.”
He rubbed his hands together.
“I thought forty-three dollars and eight cents was the biggest amount of money in the world.”
Gideon remembered.
He had never forgotten that number.
Noah continued.
“Then your motorcycle broke.”
“Best breakdown I ever had.”
“Worst repair authorization I've ever received.”
“You didn't receive authorization.”
“Exactly.”
They laughed.
After a moment, Noah became serious.
“I've been meaning to ask you something.”
“Go ahead.”
“That night.”
Gideon waited.
“Did you really bring everyone because I fixed your motorcycle?”
Gideon's eyes narrowed slightly.
“You're just figuring this out?”
“I've always wondered.”
Gideon looked across the parking lot.
At the motorcycles.
At Elena.
At Earl.
At the little blue dirt bike displayed inside Noah's workshop.
“No,” he said.
Noah waited.
“The motorcycle got me there.”
Gideon folded his arms.
“But that wasn't why I called them.”
“Then why?”
Gideon looked at him.
“Because when you told me you were eight, I saw Lily.”
Noah's expression softened.
“I saw a kid trying to carry something that should've belonged to adults.”
Gideon's voice became quieter.
“And for twenty years, I had been asking myself what I would've done differently if somebody gave me one more chance.”
Noah swallowed.
“Then you showed up.”
“No.”
Gideon shook his head.
“I showed up.”
Noah smiled faintly.
“Same difference.”
“No. It isn't.”
Gideon placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You were already fighting. Already surviving. Already taking care of your mother.”
His eyes became wet, though he would later blame the desert wind.
“All I did was finally become the man I should've been when Lily needed me.”
Noah looked at him for a long time.
Then he embraced him.
Gideon stiffened.
The terrifying Gideon Cross, president of the Iron Revenants Motorcycle Club, veteran of more fights than he admitted and more funerals than he could count, stood completely helpless while the young man he had watched grow up hugged him.
Eventually he put both arms around Noah.
“Thank you,” Noah whispered.
Gideon closed his eyes.
“No.”
His voice cracked.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For giving me somewhere to arrive.”
Across the lot, motorcycles began starting one after another.
The sound rolled through Silver Rock.
Deep.
Powerful.
Familiar.
Noah pulled away.
“You riding?”
Gideon nodded.
“Club run.”
“Where?”
“Phoenix.”
“What for?”
Gideon smiled.
“Kid needs help.”
Noah looked at him.
“What kind?”
“Mother died. Dad's out of work. Twelve-year-old girl is trying to hold the family together.”
Noah didn't hesitate.
“Wait.”
He disappeared into the workshop.
Gideon watched him return carrying his riding jacket.
“What are you doing?”
“Coming.”
“You have a business to run.”
“Earl.”
From inside came an irritated voice.
“I heard you!”
Noah grinned.
“He's got it.”
“I absolutely do not!”
Noah climbed onto his motorcycle.
Not the little blue dirt bike.
That one remained inside.
This was a black cruiser he had built himself, every line and bolt reflecting something he had learned over eighteen years.
He started the engine.
Gideon stared at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You're doing the face.”
“What face?”
“The old-man face.”
“I'm going to leave without you.”
Noah laughed.
They rode out together.
Dozens of motorcycles followed.
People on the sidewalks stopped to watch.
Some looked nervous.
Some curious.
Some waved.
Noah understood them.
From the outside, the Iron Revenants looked intimidating.
Black leather.
Chrome.
Tattoos.
Scarred faces.
Thunderous engines.
But Noah knew what lived beneath the noise.
He knew because once, on an ordinary Tuesday when his mother had no medicine and the refrigerator was nearly empty, that thunder had come down Juniper Lane.
Not to frighten anyone.
Not to demand anything.
Not to prove how powerful they were.
They had come carrying grocery boxes.
Medicine.
Tools.
A nurse's bag.
A second chance.
Noah accelerated gently until his motorcycle came alongside Gideon's.