Bicycle Brigade

Bicycle Brigade

Matthew Ryan Fischer

They patrolled the streets, riding on their BMX bikes. Teenagers. Young men and women. Teammates. Guardians.

It had been prophesied. The monsters were coming. They would be the ones to heed the call.

They studied. They trained. They made their checklist and made sure they had everything they needed. Wooden stakes. Silver bullets. Crosses. Garlic. Holy water. Anything that was known to do damage to the monsters of yore.

No one in the neighborhood took them seriously. That was okay. It wasn’t their job to convince anyone of anything, just to protect them. Their time was coming. They were the only ones to believe. They were the only ones to prepare. They were going to be heroes.

They trained for battle, learning their weapons, honing their craft. They read the books, the fictional accounts with the facts reduced and reused for narrative gain. They sought out the ancient texts, the ones with secret knowledge, secret information. They tested each other, exacting their understanding, making sure each of their teammates was as ready as any other. No weak links. No chance for failure.

They researched all the monster movies in their spare times. The movies, like all fiction, weren’t totally inaccurate. In a theoretical sense anyway. The moviemakers, through accident or top-secret intent, actually understood a lot about the monsters, their motivations and their weaknesses. There was a lot to learn from them.

Perhaps the great creators had all been part of the same clandestine organization. Perhaps they were preparing the world for the war that was to come. Slowly making the public aware of what to do, slowly making it acceptable to talk about and plan for. The public at large was educated and prepared, even if they didn’t know it yet.

The knowledge began in a different era, in a time where the world was more mystically in tune. Gothic mystics were onto something, with their secret societies and séances and cults. The writers realized the world was full of dark secrets and explored it freely. They knew it was their responsibility to pass on such arcane information and to protect future generations, just as the great ancient civilizations had tried to preserve and pass on the information before in the form of ritual and monumental buildings.

They rode their bikes. They patrolled. Teenagers. Young men and women. Teammates. Guardians.

Let the monsters come, they thought. They had equipped themselves and done the research. They had their weapons. They had their archaic wisdom. They made sure that when the time came they had the proper tools and the appropriate talent. They were prepared for this battle. They would be the ones to fight and they would be the ones to win.

Their time had come. They were ready. It was their time for action. Their time to be heroes.

They were killed straightaway.

© copyright Matthew Ryan Fischer, 2015