57
Under a bone-chilling sapphire sky, Shea watched the members of the Confederate Thunder Motorcycle Club wind their way down the switchback gravel road that led to the mine’s parking lot. Shea guessed their number to be between three and four dozen. The ground trembled with the sound of so many Harley engines.
Around her stood Fuego, Savage, Indigo, and the two dozen or so other members of the Athena Sisterhood, all sporting the club colors. They were horribly outnumbered and outgunned. If this turned violent, they had no chance.
One bike in the middle of the pack caught Shea’s attention: Monster’s royal blue Screamin’ Eagle Fat Boy. Julia was riding two-up with Annie on the back. Shea released the breath she was holding. Things were looking up.
The Thundermen parked in a semicircle,
