Leigh’s motorcycle sputtered and died. If the pouring rain hadn’t been bad enough, she was now out of gas. Putting her ear near the tank Leigh gave it a good shake. Nothing. Cautiously, keeping the gas cap covered, she opened it and shook again. Not even a splash. Leigh sighed and closed it up.
Looking up Leigh could make out a light in the distance. Her lifted visor kept most of the rain off her face, but it was starting to get persistent on getting through her gear. Groaning she flipped down the kick stand and got off. Pushing the wet SV650 towards the light, over, what she presumed was grass, was a pain and a half. At least there was no gas to make it weight more. Finally she got it up under the overhang, just out of the way of the door. The door, which now swung open with out her even knocking.
Taking a deep breath she stepped inside and nearly turned right back around again. The oddities that looked back at her nearly made her heart stop. Apparently the oddness that she’d been running away from at the Airport had either followed her here, or she’d just happened to run into more. Well at least one of the three people looked normal.
Leigh took off her gloves, placing them on entrance hall table. Next came the helmet and she shook out her hair. Then she removed her ear plugs, placing them in same suit pocket as her bike key. Giving the curious crowd a slight grin, she proceeded to unzip her riding suit, which looked a lot like a bulky air force flight suit. Hey, when you might have to fight the road, it pays to be prepared. At last she took off her riding boots. Once everything was stashed neatly in the hall where it could dry, she walked into the parlor.
“Hi” she said, “anyone know where I might get some gas for my motorcycle around here?”