The guys go outside, get on their bikes and start them up.  The Sheriff and one of the deputies follow them out and get in the police car.  Mr. Buford comes running up and opens the passenger door of the police car.

                                                                 MR. BUFORD
                                                           (to the deputy)
                                Git in back.

                                                           (shakes his head)
                                Uh-uh.  I always ride shotgun.

                                                                 MR. BUFORD

Mr. Buford climbs in back.  The bikes drive slowly up the street, the police car trailing right behind them.

Stan and the two deputies beside him watch from the front of the cafe.


Mr. Buford leans forward on the seat facing the Sheriff.

                                                                 MR. BUFORD

                                So, I don' know.  I mean, I questioned 'em and they
                                didn't seem like they knew nothin', but then again,
                                maybe they do.

                                                                 MR. BUFORD
                                So you arrested one of 'em?

                                He lipped off t' me, what was I supposed t' do?

                                                                 MR. BUFORD
                                Get 'em all outta town, that's what I thank.  But now
                                that y'all got one of 'em, make shore ya arrest that
                                other one, the one with LuAnne.

                                For what?

                                                                 MR. BUFORD
                                I don' give a damn for what, jus' do it!

The Police car stops abruptly in the middle of the road near the edge of town.  The motorcycles keep going and slowly turn left on Route 66.

                                Now look here, Gus!  Don' ya be tellin' me my
                                job now!  I'll do what I thank is right!

                                                                 MR. BUFORD
                                Shit, Alex, have y'all gone plumb crazy?  We could
                                all be in a lotta trouble, an' that includes you!  Now
                                arrest that boy and find out what he knows!  We'll
                                question both of 'em separate, that way we'll be shore
                                t' git the truth.

Mr. Buford gets out of the police car and slams the door.  The Sheriff and the Deputy sit there in the stationary automobile.  They watch as the motorcycles disappear from view driving west on Route 66.


When the bikes get out of sight of the town along Route 66 they stop and turn around. Jason looks concerned.

                                What about Virgil?

                                He's gotta be back soon.  We have to wait for him.
                                Can you believe that?  Of all the dames he goes
                                an picks up the Sheriff's daughter?

                                They acted like they knew each other.

                                How would Virgil know a girl from this podunk town?
                                It's not possible.

                                What we got us here, fellas, is a situation.

                                We can't let 'em keep Stan.  He'll do time for sure.

                                Let's just wait a few minutes and see what happens.

They all nod and take out their cigarettes.


The two Deputies escort Stan away from the cafe and his motorcycle.  They march him up the street, each deputy with a hand on Stan's shoulders.  Stan glances at each of them and they're both facing ahead, not taking Stan seriously.

Stan sees his moment.  He grabs each of the deputy's wrists, snaps the right deputy's arm down hard throwing him off balance while simultaneously pushing the other one out and away.  Stan kicks the deputy to his left solidly in the balls, then lets him go and he drops to the ground.

Stan grabs the other deputy's wrist with both hands, spins him around in a full circle and lets go.  The deputy catapults through a store window with a tremendous crash.

The deputy on the ground takes his hand from his crotch and goes for his gun.  Stan kicks him solidly in the nose, then hastily takes off running back toward the cafe.

Stan jumps on his motorcycle, rolls it off the kick-stand, kicks the starter, turns the throttle, it putters and doesn't catch.  Stan looks up and sees . . .

. . . The deputy on the ground holding his bloody nose and pulling his pistol.  The other deputy comes staggering out the door of the shop he crashed into, dazed and covered with blood.

Stan kicks the starter again, it putters, coughs and dies.  The deputy with the bloody nose rises unsteadily to his feet, his pistol raised and fires a shot.

The bullet whizzes past Stan's ear.  Stan kicks the starter again and still nothing.

Now both deputies are charging toward him.

Stan pulls the choke, gives it another kick and it starts.  The engine revs, the furious deputies are getting close, another shot is fired, Stan floors it, fishtails and speeds down the street away from his pursuers.  Several blocks up the street Stan sees the police car just sitting there a quarter of a mile up.  Stan frowns, pulls a quick U-turn heading back toward the bloody, pissed-off deputies.

Stan ducks low as both deputies open fire on him.  One bullet hits Stan in the thigh, another shatters one of his mirrors.  He veers away from the deputies and drives up a thin alley between two buildings.


Stan is going way too fast.  He's holding the handlebars with one hand, the other tightly grasping his wounded leg.  As he tears up the thin alley with garbage cans lining both sides he goes out of control plowing into the garbage cans.


Stan comes out of the alley with cans rolling out in front of him, then blasts out into the vast expanse of open desert.


The deputies both take shots at Stan up the alley, but he's too far away and rapidly getting farther and farther.  Both deputies are furious.


Stan's got the motorcycle flat out, head down, tearing across the darkening flatlands.  Suddenly-BOOM!!- the engine blows.  Flames erupt and he loses all power.  Stan jumps off the moving motorcycle, lands on his good leg, hops several times, then falls on his face.

The bike rolls along on its own momentum and the gas tank explodes.  It keeps rolling off into the darkness, a bouncing ball of flame.  It finally becomes a small yellow spark, then falls over.

Stan pounds his fist on the hard dirt.

                                S-s-son of a b-b-b-b . . . Shit!


The Panhandle Saloon looks like an old western saloon: fancy woodwork, wooden sidewalk, bat-wing doors.  Virgil's Harley is parked in front.


Inside, Glenn Miller is playing on the jukebox and a bunch of young people are Jitterbugging-LuAnne and Virgil among them.  The two of them dance very well together and do a lot of snazzy between-the-legs and over-the-shoulder moves.  They're the best dancers in the joint.  The older folks watch from the security of their seats.  Virgil and LuAnne perform a big finale and the song ends.  It's replaced by a slow number and most of the young people, LuAnne and Virgil included, sit down.  Several older couples get up and dance.

LuAnne and Virgil sit at a table and take big swigs of beer.

                                Where'd y'all learn t' jive like that?

                                In the Marines.

                                Is dancin' part of basic trainin' now?

                                Naw, when we were out in the middle of nowhere and
                                there's nothing to do, we'd practice dancing sometimes.

                                Ya mean, two boys?

                                They're not boys, they're Marines, and generally there's
                                no gals around and a lotta spare time.
                                Where'd you learn to dance?

                                With one a my girlfriends.  None of the boys in this
                                town know how, as you just saw.

                                So what's it like living here?  What's there, five hundred

                                There's five hunert an' seventy-three.  Well, there ain't
                                much t' do here an' ever'body's purty closed-minded
                                'bout most ever'thang, so . . . I thank it all stinks.  Ya
                                see, this place's even worse'n it seems.  Somethin's eatin'
                                it up from the inside out.  That's why I don't wanna live
                                here no more.  That's why I want ya to take me with
                                you when ya go.  'Member, y'all said ya would?

Virgil looks right at her, then nods.

                                I remember.  Okay.

                                You will?

                                I just said I would, didn't I?
                                Now, what it is that's eating this town up?

LuAnne looks long and hard at Virgil.

                                Well, 'bout six months ago, this feller come ridin'
                                into town on a motorcycle and . . .

The bat-wing doors swing open and in steps the Sheriff and his Deputy.  The Sheriff looks around, spots LuAnne and Virgil, and he and the deputy march up to their table.  The Sheriff takes LuAnne by the wrist.

                                Come on, girl, you're goin' home!

LuAnne yanks her arm away.

                                No!  Uh-uh!

Virgil just watches.

The Sheriff considers the situation, then nods to the Deputy who steps up to Virgil.

                                That's jus' fine, LuAnne, ya do what ya want, but
                                I'm takin' this boy t' jail.

The Deputy reaches toward Virgil who quickly jumps to his feet and backs off, his hands up in front of him.

                                Now hold on a second.  What're you talkin' about?
                                I didn't do anything.

                                That's right!

The Sheriff steps up to Virgil.

                                This little girl ain't of legal age, mister.

                                We were just dancing, there's no law against that,
                                not even in Texas.

                                You bought her liquor.  That's aidin' t' the delinquency
                                of a minor.  Careful I don't add statutory rape.  As it is
                                you'll prob'ly only do thirty days.

                                                           (laughs sardonically)
                                Thirty days, huh?  How much you wanna bet?

                                Now look here, I already got your stutterin' friend in jail.
                                How'd the two of you like t' do some real time?

Virgil's hit his limit.  His jaw muscles knot and his fists clench.

                                You've got my friend in jail?

The Sheriff nods.  The Deputy's hand goes to his pistol.

Virgil takes a step up to the Sheriff so that they're face to face.  Virgil points in his face.

                                I'm gonna walk right out of here, go over to your
                                jail and get my friend!  Then me and the rest of
                                my buddies are gonna ride outta this little piece of
                                shit town of yours!  And I'd just try and stop me if
                                I were you!

Virgil starts to walk toward the door.  The Deputy makes a move to grab him.  Virgil swiftly snaps his elbow into the Deputy's throat, kicks him solidly in the stomach, then grabs him by the hair and slams his face down onto the table.

The Sheriff has his gun out and is just bringing it up as Virgil swings his fist in an upper-cut smack into the Sheriff's jaw-BAM!!  The Sheriff sails across the bar, hits a table, flips over backward and lands on the floor with a thud.  Both cops are momentarily knocked senseless.

Everyone in the bar is in stunned silence.

Virgil looks into LuAnne's helpless and pleading eyes and indicates the door.  She makes no move to leave.  Instead, she dashes over to her Father.

Virgil's out the door.


Virgil comes running outside, leap-frogs onto his bike, kicks the starter, twists the throttle, sprays gravel across the front of the saloon and blasts up the street.


LuAnne takes her father's head and puts in her lap.

                                Daddy, please, y'all right?

The Sheriff sits up rubbing his jaw as the Deputy, now sporting a broken, bloody nose, also sits up.  The Sheriff looks at LuAnne and grimaces.

                                You're just like your Mama -- a tramp!  Ready to
                                run off with the first stranger you see!  Git away
                                from me!

LuAnne stands, looking down on her Father, pain in her eyes.

                                Y'all don' un'erstan' nothin'!  I truly did love ya till
                                just this very minute, but I don' no more!  An' you'll
                                never see me again!

She bolts out the door.


When she gets outside Virgil is long gone.  LuAnne looks all around, not knowing which way to go or what to do.  She runs up the street with tears streaming from her eyes.


The Sheriff and the deputy are both on their feet.  The Sheriff makes an announcement to everyone in the bar.

                                I need as many deputies as I can git tonight.  I'm
                                gonna put all a these weird-lookin', motorcycle
                                boys in jail.  If you wanna help, go get a gun and
                                meet me at the police station.

All of the older men immediately head for the door, their women in tow.  All of the younger men and women stay where they are.

The Sheriff doesn't like what he's seeing.

                                What's a matter, ain't you young-uns got no guts?

A YOUNG MAN wearing a natty sweater, a bolo tie and a crew cut speaks up.

                                                                 YOUNG MAN
                                We young-uns didn't kill that feller on the motorcycle,
                                y'all did.  Now y'all kin deal with his friends.

A girl wearing bobby socks and saddle shoes drops a nickel in the jukebox.  Artie Shaw comes blaring out.  Several couples get up and start Jitterbugging.

The Sheriff and the bleeding Deputy stomp out of the saloon.


Virgil tears up Main Street, occasionally throwing a glance over his shoulder.  As he passes the police station he sees two deputies, both wearing bandages, standing on the porch.  Virgil zips right by as they yell at him.


As Virgil nears Route 66 he sees flashing lights to his right.  It's the other guys on their bikes flashing their headlights.

Virgil rides over to them.

                                They arrested Stan, huh?

They all nod.

                                How do you know?

                                The Sheriff told me.

                                He did?

Yeah, right before I kicked the shit outta him.

                                All right, Marines!

                                Now what're we gonna do?

                                We're go gonna get Stan outta there.

                                I betcha they're puttin' a whole goddamn army
                                together right this very minute.

                                I bet they are.

They all look at each other, then each of them, except Jason, reaches into his saddlebag or rolled-up sleeping bag.  One by one they all pull out Army-issue .45 caliber pistols.  Dewey pulls out two.  Jason is shocked.

                                Hey!  What the hell is this all about?  We can't
                                take on a whole town.

                                Really?  Why not?

                                Well, I don't know.

                                Look, nobody's gonna fuck with one of our
                                buddies and get away with it.  Am I right?

Everybody nods.

                                Fuck these guys!

                                Absolutely!  Fuck 'em!

Jason is in a panic.

                                But Virg, we just can't!

                                                           (dead serious)
                                We've both known Stan our whole lives.  He's
                                got that plate in his head 'cause of me.  I let him
                                down once, I'm not doin' it again.

Virgil reaches into his saddlebag and comes up with a .38 snub nose.  He holds it out to Jason.

                                You can wait right here if you want.  No loss
                                of honor.  And I'd prefer it.

Jason looks at all of them, then nods and reaches for the pistol.

                                Nobody's leaving me behind.

Jason takes the gun and snaps out the cylinder.

Everyone else pops their clips, checking to make sure they're loaded.  They are.  They all snap the clips back in and cock their weapons.

                                We got anything else worth havin'?

                                I did a little reconnoiterin' while you were gone
                                an' found these.

Dewey holds up a case of long-neck beer bottles and a rubber tube.

Bud begins to cut a shirt into strips with his knife.

Virgil puts a new stick match in his teeth.

                                Let's take this fuckin' town out!

                                Let's do it for Horace!

                                                           (they all nod)

Jason hesitantly reaches out and touches Bud's shoulder.  Bud turns to see what Jason wants, but all Jason wanted to do was touch him.  Bud gives Jason the O.K. sign and winks.

                                All right.  Listen up.  These guys are gonna be
                                bunched up, you can just bet on it.  Dewey,
                                you'll take the south side of town, Bud, Jason, the
                                center, I'll take the north.  Here's what we're gonna
                                do . . .


Twenty-five middle-aged and older men, all wearing cowboy hats and boots and holding hunting rifles, stand on the street in front of the police station in a group.  They look nervous, fingers on the triggers, eyes darting all around.  The Sheriff is out in front.  The left side of his face is black and blue and swollen.  The three deputies beside him look like the walking wounded.

                                Let's jus' spread out here a little bit.  Your all
                                bunched up like a herd o' cows.

The men begrudgingly do as they're told and slowly move out along the street in both directions.

LuAnne comes walking up the street.  She's been crying, but looks more disturbed than sad.  She sees all of the men in the street and it's a moment of decision for her.  Finally, she walks up to her Father.

                                Daddy, what're y'all doin'?

                                I thought I weren't ever gonna see you agin?  Shore
                                didn't last long.

                                What's goin' on?

                                Those friends a yours are lookin' for trouble, and
                                they're gonna get it, too.

                                They weren't lookin' for no trouble, you started it
                                with them.  If ya just tell ever'body t' go home they

                                I'm sick and tired of you an' ever'body else tellin' me
                                what t' do!  Now you go home an' let me do my job!

                                But Daddy, ya can't do this!

                                Can't I?  I aint lettin' no city fellers on motorcycles
                                punch me in the face an' get away with it, ya can
                                count on that!  Now git!

LuAnne looks like she's like to say more, but can't figure out what.  She runs away up the street, then suddenly stops.  Where is she going?  She turns around and there is the store with the shattered front window.  She goes into the store and watches the street.

Mr. Buford in his Lone Star Petroleum truck drives up to the crowd and stops in front of the Sheriff.

                                                                 MR. BUFORD
                                Jesus Christ, Alex, what happened t' you?

                                I had a little run-in with that feller with LuAnne.

                                                                 MR. BUFORD
                                Did ya talk to him?  Find out what he knows?

                                I talked to him.  But he weren't very cooperative
                                with his answers.

                                                                 MR. BUFORD
                                An' jus' what'cha thank's gonna happen now?  That
                                these five fellers're gonna come back and attack a big
                                group like this?  Y'all gotta go after 'em.

                                I do, huh?  Since you an' ever'body else is so big
                                about tellin' me my job, why don't you git down
                                here an' help?

                                                                 MR. BUFORD
                                'Cause it ain't my job, it's yours.

                                Then stop tellin' me how t' do it!  I ain't responsible
                                for any of this anyhow, you are!  And if they do know,
                                it's 'cause you killed their friend.

                                                                 MR. BUFORD
                                T'weren't jus' me.  Ever'body shot him.

                                But you shot him first.  I shoulda done somethin' about
                                it at the time and damn I'm sorry I didn't.  I honestly don't
                                think these motorcycle fellers know a damn thing about
                                what happened here.  But whatever it is we gotta deal with
                                it.  Now get down here an' help!

                                                                 MR. BUFORD
                                I thank you're plain wrong and ya know what, I'm gettin'
                                outta here.

Mr. Buford starts his truck and is about to put it in gear when there is the loud sound of a revving motorcycle to their right, somewhere in the darkness.  All the men stop moving and turn right.  Then there's the sound of a motorcycle to their left.  Some men turn left, some don't.  Then there's a motorcycle somewhere in front of them, then another one.

The Sheriff, Mr. Buford and all the others are looking back and forth, all around, feeling surrounded and trapped.  And then there is the sound of a gunshot.  Every man in the street opens fire all at once in every direction.  Mr. Buford ducks down in the cab of the truck.

Virgil and Dewey are at either end of the street, behind the edges of buildings, revving their throttles.  Virgil has his smoking .45 in his hand aiming upward.  Bullets slam into the bricks and through windows all around them.

Jason and Bud are behind the buildings across the street from the police station, also revving their engines.  A bullet comes through the back window of the building beside Jason.  Yep, those are real bullets, all right.  This is no game.  Jason gulps and nervously pulls back the hammer of his .38.

The good old boys are in a shooting frenzy, slamming their bolts back and forth, shells flying, blue smoke filling the air.  There is the distinct sound of a ricochet and the fellow next to the Sheriff is hit in the chest and drops dead.

                                They're shootin' back!

The shooting frenzy continues.

Virgil can't believe what he's seeing.  He takes the match from his teeth, strikes it on the wall and lights a Molotov cocktail.  He puts a new match between his teeth and throws the Molotov cocktail.

It smashes into a pool of fire at the feet of several of the old men.  Panic sets in and the ones nearest the fire run back toward the others.

Dewey throws his Molotov cocktail from the opposite direction.  It explodes sending them back the other way.

Jason and Bud let theirs fly.

Fireballs come sailing over the buildings, one smashing on the ground right in front of the Sheriff, the other going through the police station window.  The building rapidly ignites.

Bud looks at Jason in exasperation.

                                Stan's in there.

Jason looks embarrassed.

                                Shit!  Sorry.

Virgil lights another Molotov cocktail, replaces the match, and throws this one across the street, through a store window.  The building goes right up in flames.  Three more Molotov cocktails come sailing out of the darkness, smashing through the windows of businesses.

The mob of armed men panic and run for the safety of any building they can get into, burning or not.  The Sheriff and the deputies dash into the flaming police station.

Virgil puts his index and baby fingers in his mouth and whistles really loud.

The roar of motorcycles is deafening as they come blasting in from four directions, pistols blazing.  Anyone in the street is shot down.  Jason has a guy right in sights, but doesn't shoot.  He seems horribly confused as he goes past.

Mr. Buford, still ducking down in the cab of his truck, sees his moment.  He grinds the stick into gear and takes off up the street.

The motorcycles come back through for another pass, this time with more Molotov cocktails.  They throw them through all the business windows that aren't already on fire.

A man in the street is down on his knee, his rifle leveled and tracking Virgil.  Just as he's about to pull the trigger, Jason comes by from behind and shoots him.  The man falls back, dead. Jason drives away holding the smoking .38, breathing fast, his eyes blazing.

Bud, having just thrown his Molotov cocktail, finds Mr. Buford in the pick-up truck driving straight at him.  Bud reaches for the pistol in his belt, but there's no time as the truck swerves to hit him.  Bud hastily veers out of the way, jumps the curb and crashes right through the plate glass window into the billowing flames of a burning business.

Mr, Buford grins and makes a hard left into a thin alley.


It's the same thin alley as before, clogged with garbage cans.  The truck smashes right into the cans, refuse and can lids flying everywhere, then exits the alley.


The pick-up truck comes crashing out of the alley covered in garbage.

A moment later Bud on his Indian explodes through the back door of a burning store, covered with soot but no worse for the wear.

Bud sees Buford high-tailing it across the desert and goes after him.


Most of the buildings of Shamrock are in flames.

As armed men run from the burning buildings the motorcycles roar past and pick them off.

Shots ring out from the police station.  Jason takes a bullet in his side and slides out on his bike.


Flames are quickly engulfing the building.  The Sheriff snaps the bolt back on his rifle.

                                I got one of the little bastards!


Virgil sees Jason on the ground and his face knots up.


Jason waves back, obviously still alive.

Virgil drives straight at the police station, bullets whizzing past him.  Virgil jumps the curb and smashes right through the barred window.


The steel bars come right down on the Sheriff, then Virgil's Harley drives over him.  The three deputies are pressed against the walls, their weapons raised, flames consuming the building around them.  Virgil spins around with his .45 and takes all three of them out without missing a beat.

Virgil looks around, then drives through a doorway to the one and only jail cell.  He doesn't see Stan and cranes his head around.

                                STAN!  STAN!

There's no answer.  Virgil looks hurt and incredibly angry.  He pops the clip on his .45, snaps in a new one, seemingly uninterested in the fact that the building is burning down around him.  He rides back through the doorway into the main room and sees the Sheriff feebly attempting to crawl from beneath the steel bars and broken glass.  Virgil grabs the Sheriff's wrist with one hand while turning the throttle with the other.  He crashes through the door and out of the burning police station, the Sheriff in tow.


Virgil comes back out onto the street, lets go of the moaning Sheriff, guns it, patches out and tears up the street.

A group of old men come barreling right at Virgil in a black Ford, firing their rifles from the windows.  Virgil takes a bullet in the shoulder and flies off his bike.  Dewey and Jason level their guns and both fire at once.

The windshield of the Ford explodes.  The car goes careening out of control and veers directly into. . .


. . . the Fina gas station, smashing through both pumps and plowing into the office.  Two geysers of gasoline spew into the air.


Shots ring out from the front windows of a brick building with a sign that says, "Goodfellows Hall."  A cloth banner reads, "All-U-Can-Eat Pancake Supper, June 28th."

Our guys in the street hit the dirt.  They are pinned down behind their motorcycles.


The refinery is encircled by a corrugated tin fence.  Mr. Buford is doing 90 mph toward the closed and locked gate.

Bud is tearing up from behind him, his .45 leveled.  He pulls the trigger over and over, spent shells flying, emptying the clip into the back of the truck.

Mr. Buford's pick-up bursts into flames just as it crashes through the refinery gate.


Mr. Buford screams and covers his face as a pumping oil derrick rapidly fills his view through the windshield.


Bud swerves away from the refinery just as there's a loud crash followed by an enormous, Earth-shaking explosion.  The concussion is so powerful that it knocks the motorcycle and Bud to the ground.


Virgil, Dewey and Jason, all pinned down behind their bikes, bullets constantly thumping in.  They turn and see . . .

. . . A giant fireball, not unlike an atomic bomb's mushroom cloud, rising from the desert.

They're awe-struck faces are momentarily lit in orange.


We can see through the front window of the Panhandle Saloon that all the kids are up and dancing to the loud sounds of Benny Goodman's "Sing, Sing, Sing" and its pounding Gene Krupa tom-toms.

In the distance behind the saloon the fireball rises majestically through the dark blue sky.

No one inside notices.


The shooting has stopped for a second.  Virgil, Jason and Dewey look at each other.  Virgil slaps Dewey on the arm.

                                Clean 'em out.  We'll cover you.

Dewey nods, jumps to his feet and takes off running in a zig-zag pattern toward the Goodfellows Hall.  Virgil and Jason open up on the front window of the building.  Bullets hit the dirt all around Dewey's feet.  He gets to the edge of the building, out of range, and keeps going.


Dewey sneaks around behind the building.  He's flat against the wall, his two .45's raised and ready.  He spins around, kicks in the back door and enters, his pistols blazing.


Eight men with rifles all turn just in time to see Dewey charging toward them blazing fire.  He hits five of them sending them sailing against the walls and back through the big front windows.


Virgil and Jason, both wounded and crouching behind their motorcycles, see the old cowboys come crashing out of the front window of the Goodfellows Hall into the street.  Both brothers are supremely impressed.

                                                                 VIRGIL & JASON


The other three guys Dewey didn't get all fire simultaneously shooting Dewey three times in the chest with big slugs.

Dewey hits the wall, his head slumps, the pistols drop from his hands and he slides to the floor leaving a big bloody smear on the wall.


Jason and Virgil hear the shots inside the Goodfellows Hall.  Bud comes riding up out of the darkness.  He pulls up beside Virgil and Jason on the ground.  Virgil points at the Goodfellows Hall.

                                Dewey's in trouble in there.  Check it out.

Bud nods, turns his throttle and drives toward the Hall.  Jason and Virgil both continue to shoot at the shattered front window laying down cover fire.


Bud swerves around the bodies littering the front of the building, blasts up the steps and crashes through the front door.


The three other men inside turn around just in time to see Bud shoot them.  They each drop in their spots.

Bud rides over to Dewey's slumped body sitting against the wall.  He's dead.  A look of anguish crosses Bud's face.

                                Thanks for tuning my bike, pal.


More bullets come pounding toward Jason and Virgil from the other direction.  They both quickly scramble to the other side of their bikes.


Muzzle flashes are coming from the survivors of the crash into the gas station.  There are three men crouched behind a tow truck.


Virgil puts his foot on the starter of the bike which is lying flat on its side, kicks it, revs, stands the bike up, jumps on and roars up the street.


Virgil drives straight at the gas station, swerving back and forth to avoid the bullets being fired at him, while simultaneously emptying the clip of his .45 at the tow truck.


Bullets zing and ricochet off the metal skin of the tow truck.  The men behind it crouch low, covering their heads.

Gasoline is spewing up from the destroyed pumps.  Virgil goes right past the station, takes the match from his teeth, lights it off his thumbnail and tosses it into the river of fuel.  Flames shoot along the gas like a fuse and when they hit the pumps the whole station goes up in a giant fireball.


All of the young folks of Shamrock hear this explosion, stop dancing and come running out of the Saloon to see what in hell is going on.  They find their town in flames.


Virgil turns around and stops.  No shots are being fired.  Suddenly it's very quiet.  Virgil looks up Main Street.


Flames light the sky from almost every building in town.  Bodies litter the street, among them the moaning Sheriff, his pistol in his hand.

LuAnne can be seen hiding inside the store.  She hesitantly steps out the door.


Virgil puts a new match in his teeth and grins.

                                                           (to himself)
                                Goddamn, it's great to be alive!


Bud comes riding back up to Jason.  Jason looks around, stands and raises his motorcycle back up.  Bud looks at Jason sadly.

                                Dewey's dead.

A look of pain twists Jason's face.  He and Bud both turn toward Virgil who is at the other end of the street.


Virgil sees Bud and Jason, grins and waves.


The Sheriff raises his pistol, aims and fires.


The bullet hits Virgil right in the heart.  His whole body goes slack, the match drops from his teeth and he and his bike falls over sideways.

Jason and Bud both fire their pistols at the same time.  The bullets hit the Sheriff lying on the ground, his body lurches and he's dead.

LuAnne comes running up to her dead Father.  She stands there in shock looking down, then quickly dashes over to Virgil.

Jason and Bud ride over to Virgil.


Virgil is lying on the ground beside his Harley, blood pouring from his chest.  He's still alive, but his eyes have a glazed look.  LuAnne gets to him and gets down on her knees, tears streaming from her eyes.  Virgil look up at her and smiles weakly.

                                I never got that raincheck.  I guess I never will.

                                Yes ya will.

Slightly shakes his head.

                                Uh-uh.  Not a chance.

Jason and Bud ride up.  Jason dashes over to his brother, crying.

                                Oh, Virgil!  Jesus Christ!  You're really hurt bad!

Virgil reaches out and grabs Jason's hand.

                                Do me a favor, will ya Jas?

                                What?  Anything.

                                Take LuAnne with you.  I promised her.

                                Sure.  Of Course.

                                And tell Mom and Dad I love 'em.

                                No, Virg.  You tell 'em.  When you get home.

Virgil's face twists in pain.

                                Oh, shit!
                                                           (opens his eyes)
                                See ya, Bud.

                                See ya, Virg.

Virgil shakes his head sadly.

                                                           (hurt and angry)
                                This whole fuckin' town wasn't worth Stan's life!

Blood gurgles out of Virgil's mouth, his head drops to the side and he dies.

Everyone desolately look away.

Just then Stan comes wandering up the street and calls out . . .


They all turn and look at Stan in utter disbelief.

                                You're alive!

                                Y-y-yeah.  I g-g-got away.

They all look at each other in complete and utter disbelief.  Stan steps up to them and sees Virgil's body.  Stan blinks several times, then shuts his eyes and shakes his head.

The second gas pump at the gas station blows up behind them.  Another giant fireball rises into the sky.

All of them look at the burning town, then at each other.

Bud speaks everyone's thoughts.

                                Fuck this place!  Let's get outta here!

Everyone nods in agreement.  Stan picks up Virgil's Harley, LuAnne gets on Jason's bike, they kick their starters, rev their engines and slowly cruise up the blazing embers of Main Street.

At the end of Main Street they encounter the group of young people from the saloon.  This is a very tense moment as they all face each other.  Our guys all have their weapons out and ready.  A Young Man steps forward.

                                                                 YOUNG MAN
                                Who started it?

                                Who do you think?

                                                                 YOUNG MAN
                                What're ya gonna do now?

                                Ride outta here.

                                                                 YOUNG MAN
                                Are you goin' with 'em, LuAnne?

                                Yeah, I am.  This town had it comin' and you all
                                know it!
                                                           (points at Jason)
                                His brother's dead and my Daddy's dead.  You gonna
                                start somethin', Billy?

The Young Man Looks back at the rest of the young folks and they all gravely shake their heads.  He turns back to LuAnne and the bikers.

                                                                 YOUNG MAN
                                Go ahead.  Get outta here.

Our guys nod, lower their weapons and ride forward.  The crowd of young people parts and the motorcycles drive slowly through them.

The young people all come back together in a group, their faces lit by the flickering orange flames of their burning town.

The motorcycles cruise up to Route 66.


We can see the motorcycle gang coming toward us, silhouetted against the flames engulfing the town of Shamrock.  The bikes turn right on Route 66, the engines roar and they tear away.

As we follow them the rusty, root-like handlebar of the buried motorcycle become visible in the foreground on the right.  The flaming town is on the left.  The motorcycle gang disappears from view.


The three motorcycles appear over the rise of a distant hill in a bright, shimmering heat haze.  They ride over the top the hill, then drive down and disappear from view.

Jason and LuAnne reappear coming up the next hill, then Bud, then Stan . . .

A moment later more bikers follow after them -- dressed in black leather and chains and the whole regalia -- at least a hundred of them, probably more.  They are the future and they just keeping coming up the hill, roaring past, more and more and more . . .

                                                                                                       FADE OUT:



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