"The
bike riders seemed to be coming by the thousands, an invading army of freaks
zooming in on the little town in the hills, all of them zonked out of their
minds on something or other, acid, dope, grass, God knows what. Hair, muscle,
flesh, thighs, breasts, all responding to the erotic thrust of high horsepower
and gasoline. How would the white clapboard town fathers meet such an
onslaught?"
Fawcett Gold Medal, June 1973 |
The Scarred Man by Basil Heatter is
one of those later Gold Medal paperbacks that took the elements of vengeance,
juvenile delinquency, hippies, drugs and motorcycle gangs and wrapped them into
a tight novel of suspense about a regular guy pushed to the extremes. This book
would have made a great grindhouse motorcycle gang drive-in flick in the 70s.
The plot is simple; Lawyer William Shaw and his
wife, Stacey, take a vacation to Florida, where Shaw purchases a small yacht
with thoughts of sailing to the Bahamas. One day, he and Stacy rent a Honda
scooter to tour the glades. They’re attacked by three bikers, raping Stacey and
beating Shaw to near death. Shaw and Stacey survive the attack but Stacey is
left psychologically damaged beyond repair, and commits suicide one bright
morning by leaping from a Miami Beach hotel room to her death. Shaw quits his
job, and stays in Florida in hopes of finding the bastards that killed Stacey.
He takes a job defending several members of a motorcycle gang known as The
Beaks for a hit-and-run, and in the process manages to gain their grudging
respect. He is invited by a rider named Stud to go out for an afternoon ride, where he learns that Stud just happens to be one of the three punks involved
in the attack on him and Stacey. Before killing Stud, Shaw manages to extract the
names of the other two bikers involved. And the hunt begins.
It’s a pretty cool novel. We follow Shaw as he buys
a Harley and rides independent, looking for his prey. “Was I with the Angels, the Beaks, the Rockers, Werewolves, Zombies, or
whatever? There were no swastikas or death’s heads on my back, and I was really
too old to make the scene. A loner then, a middle-aged dropout or freak. A
day-glo crazy without the colors. But no one cared. There were so many. What
was one more?” He travels to New York State and joins a horde of bikers
descending on a small northern town, and we watch as he slowly becomes one with
the pack “[we] could not help but feel that we were a breed apart.” Along the
way he meets a chick named Pearly, who is looking for kicks and anyone handy
that will provide them for her. Shaw nearly takes the offer, before remembering
Stacey and his mission of vengeance. Eventually, he renews his purpose in
finding and killing the other two bikers on his list. But like all simple plans, nothing goes as it should.
It’s the first novel by Basil Heatter that I’ve read
and I’ll definitely be keeping an eye out for any others by him as I haunt old
bookshelves from now on. Cool stuff.
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