kick-stand, pushed back his black cap and said, "Hey, doll, where you going with this square?"

The Earth Mother said, "Look, it's Rocky!"

Rocky had a sheathed hunting knife in his black, rivet-studded belt, but no other weapons. His jacket, shirt, pants, and boots were black, as was the motorcycle. He glared at Markel. "What's your move, square man? Where in hell you going with my broad?"

"Don't try to stop us," said Markel, pointing the M-1 at Rocky's chest.

"Don't call me your broad," said the Earth Mother.

"Dad, nobody steals Rocky's broad. I'm gonna chop you up."

Patting the stock of the M-1, Markel said, "I think you fail to realize the situation. You're in no position to chop up anybody."

Rocky laughed, then jerked his head at the Earth Mother. "Get with it, doll. Come here to Rocky. Get away from that square."

"No. I'm going with him, Rocky. I don't want to see you never again."

Squinting his already narrowed eyes, Rocky said, "You do and I'll get you, doll. I'll get you both."

Again Markel patted the stock of the M-1. "You haven't a chance. Now start that monstrosity and get out of here before I kill you."

"I'll hunt you down, square man, and when I find you, I'll chop you up good."

"Your threats leave me but one recourse," said Markel. He lifted the M-1.

Rocky laughed. "So go ahead, kill me. I'll hunt you down anyway. You dig me, man? I said, you kill me and I'll still get you. I'll hunt you down."

Markel's voice lifted. "Get out of here!"

Still laughing, Rocky leaned back and folded his arms. Markel shot him. Rocky, his mouth wide with laughter, fell backward from the motorcycle. Markel walked around the motorcycle and shot him again, twice. Then he stood over him, until he was sure that Rocky was dead.

And that was the quality Markel had that was most important to his survival, and to the realization of his dream.

Leaving Rocky lying in the street, they walked to the 

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