Her Own Hell

A phone call from my oldest friend, Wendy, ripped through the quiet of my garage.

Her panicked voice claimed ruthless bikers had taken her, demanding I fix their custom bikes for her freedom.

Without a second thought, I sped into the Mojave desert to rescue her.

But when I arrived, Wendy betrayed me, knocking me out and delivering me to a biker gang.

I came to, discovering the bikes-thirteen identical, menacing machines-were ones I had custom-built years ago for their enigmatic leader, Deacon.