She was met with silence, at least at first, that drew on for an unnatural length of time, and then...  the rusted creak as a door swung slowly open.  The sign above it read 'Mike's Repairs and Parts', and a pale face peered out at her.<br/><br/>"You shouldn't be here."  His voice was strained, sounding nervous.  "Not tonight of all nights.  Go away before..."<br/><br/>Before he got a chance to finish, a low rumbling filled the air.  This time, however, it was not thunder that sounded, but the dull roar of engines.  The door closed quickly, and the sound of a bolt being thrown was the last thing she heard before the night was filled with the thunder of a dozen motorcycles bearing down the street towards her in an uneven file, sliding to a stop about 20 yards from where she stood.<br/><br/>A booted figure, it's hair flowing long and white to frame a pinched face, peered at her, the headlights of the motorcycles behind him illuminating the street.<br/><br/>"Well, young missy."  the rider spoke, his words a drawl.  "Come for the initiation, then?"<br/><br/>Behind him, someone snickered.