I looked where he was indicating and saw a large, long building that ran the entire length of the property from the back of the auto store to well beyond the garage. It had an overhang along the front, picnic tables under it (five of them, precisely), a big barrel grill to one end, and four kegs with taps looking like they were ready for use sat against the wall of the building, close to the grill. Last, there were a number of motorcycles parked in formation at the front.

There was also a set of double doors.

I turned my eyes back to the men.

“Thanks!” I called on another bright smile, ignored the strangeness they were making me feel and my inability to understand if it was a good strangeness or a bad one, and then I moved toward the Compound, carrying my pie in front of me with both hands, acutely aware they were watching me.

It was a long walk, and when I made it to the end, balanced the pie, grabbed the handle to one of the doors, pulled it open, and chanced a look back, I saw what I had a feeling I’d see.

Not a single one of them had moved, and their eyes were on me.

More strangeness invaded but even if it was quite a distance, they had to know I was looking at them. So I lifted a hand to wave before I slid through the door.

Only the coveralls guy waved back.

I rebalanced the pie in both hands, took two steps in, and stopped because I had to due to the fact I couldn’t see a thing.

The place was dark. After the bright Denver sun, my eyes needed time to adjust.

This took time, neon beer signs finally coming into focus. Then more.

None of it good.

Tatty furniture. Pool tables. A long sweeping bar. Flags on the walls like the one flying over the auto store under the American flag. Pictures also on the walls. Harley-Davidson stickers, again stuck to the walls. It wasn’t tidy. It wasn’t even clean.

It was just scary.

“Yo!” I heard and turned my head right.

I had company.

At the curved part of the sweep of the bar, a man was standing, leaning into his arm on the bar. He had a goatee. He was large. He was rough but nonetheless very good-looking. He had a lovely redheaded woman in a dainty blouse and tight skirt in front of him on a barstool. He was standing very close to her. Although he looked firmly the manly biker yin to her girly classy yang, she clearly didn’t mind this.