The once-sleepy intersection that marked Powderhorn, Colorado was buzzing with activity that totally consumed the space. The junction where routes 27 and 29 met used to include nothing but a handful of old-fashioned log cabins facing a tiny pond across the hard-packed dirt road.

Now at least 30 long trailers packed the area, along with at least two dozen side-by-sides and 4-wheelers. Pickups towing long, open trailers trundled up both roads, and at least 200 people scurried around, busy at tasks I could only imagine. I couldn’t help grinning. This was so cool!

“So this is what a movie set looks like,” I muttered as I slowed my motorcycle to a crawl. Controlled chaos consumed the tiny junction in front of me.

“More like a zoo,” my brother Tomas responded as the other three slowed behind us. All of our helmets were linked via bluetooth so we could chat as we rode.

“There,” Jane called as she rolled up beside me, balancing easily on the pegs of her bike, making the slow-speed maneuver look easy. She pointed to a sign made from a big piece of whiteboard leaning against an old-fashioned sawhorse.

It read “Extras sign-in 2 miles ahead.”

I rolled on a bit of throttle, easing out of the chaos and down route 27, heading south. The dirt road looked like it had been watered, then run over repeatedly by those giant road compactors, making it as hard and smooth as fresh asphalt.

Together, we rode south along the edge of a pretty, green valley with low hills rising on either side. It was still early enough in June that summer fires hadn’t started, so the air remained a pristine deep, dazzling blue.

Old instincts still made me scan the hilltops, noting the amount of dead trees and potential fuel. No longer my problem. I’d left that career path behind. So I forced myself to instead gaze at the remarkable transformation of the valley.

Powderhorn valley might have basically been a ghost town, but the transformation to a different time period was well underway. The one ranch house I spotted already had new walls creeping up around it with realistic stone designs. In hours it would look like a medieval castle. That was some clever camouflage.

The flat grassy valley floor was being stripped of any modern machinery and irrigation pipes. I pointed. “That has to be where they’re planning to film the battle scene they need so many extras for.”

“Where else would they film it?” Tomas joked. “Unless they want to film another Gandalf cavalry charge down to Helm’s Deep, or if they’re going to introduce skydiving Huns.”

“That would be cool. Sign me up to join that crew.”

“You guys are such nerds,” Jane joked to snickers from the others.

I couldn’t help grinning inside my helmet, imagining taking part in an epic medieval battle scene. My life had been way too boring over the past couple years. A good fight scene would feel so good.

Well, the past several days had already been a welcome escape from my computer as we explored the spectacular back country of Colorado via motorcycle. Then we heard about the open call for extras. I didn’t even know which company was filming it, but we couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this. I’d convinced the others to take the detour out to Powderhorn to give it a try. Even if we didn’t get onto the set, the ride was gorgeous.

“There!” I slowed my bike at the entrance to a small dirt parking lot two-thirds of the way down the little valley, a couple miles from the junction we’d just left.

The main road skirted one of the hills on the east side, overlooking the valley. Tents and trailers and another knot of people were gathered there, with a small dirt road heading up to the parking lot that looked like it had been recently dug out of the hillside.

Log walls were being raised to block the parking lot from view of the valley. They’d probably make it look like an old fort for one of the factions. So cool.

It was already packed with vehicles, mostly pickups and SUVs as expected, given the remote location. A square poster taped to a large free-standing whiteboard declared, “Extras Sign-in Here.”

Most of the new hopefuls were being bussed from a secondary lot farther up that side road. Should have ridden their bikes in.

“Lucas, it’s full,” complained Tomas as he smoothly stopped beside me and lifted the modular front plate of his helmet to reveal his clean-shaven face. I’d gotten a bit scruffy during the back-country ride, but Jane liked Tomas’s face clean, so he found ways to shave, even while camping.

“There’s always room for bikes,” I reminded him, then gave my big dual-sport a bit of throttle and rolled into the lot.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Sure enough, the parking attendant with the “Lot Full” sign shrugged and waved us toward the corner where a cluster of other bikes enjoyed prime real estate close to the fake log wall. A doorway led through it to the registration tent.

I pulled in there, cut the engine, and removed my helmet. It was a beautiful morning, and was supposed to warm up to the mid-seventies later. A perfect day to get into our first movie.

I flashed another grin at Tomas and the others as they pulled in on their assorted bikes. We all loved riding on all types of terrain, although Jane, Tomas’s girlfriend, pushed the limits even more than I did.

She’d been a motocross rider, after all. That woman could do things with a bike that defied physics. She pulled off her helmet with a flair and shook out the ponytail that held her long, brown hair. She was like a living lightning bolt, with her boundless energy and often-reckless spirit, but she somehow avoided crashes with her mastery over her bike and her supreme athleticism.

Tomas looked like a clean-shaven, slightly heavier version of me. Three years older and a single inch taller at 6 feet even, he still teased me about being smaller. Despite my new desk job, I kept myself in better shape, though. The years I’d spent on the forest fire crews all summer and working as a skydiving instructor in Arizona in the winter had ingrained in me the need to keep myself in top condition.

His surgical practice was booming, but by how sore he’d been over the past few days, it was clear he had been slacking off on the workout routines. We weren’t quite identical, but even a half-blind drunk could tell we were siblings. Same build, same short, brown hair. Different eyes. I was cool with that. Tomas was my best friend.

Edmund and Patrick brought up the rear. Where Edmund was skinny and nerdy and still rode his bike a bit too stiffly, Patrick wore at least 20 extra pounds on his big frame. He kept claiming he was about to start a new diet, but that was usually right after ordering a second dessert.

I couldn’t ask for a better group of friends for an epic back-country ride. Getting into the movie together would be the icing on the cake of our trip.

Stripping off my riding gear, I snatched up my sunglasses and baseball cap. “Let’s go!”

“I think this is a waste of time,” Tomas repeated for the tenth time.

Jane punched him lightly on the shoulder, her hazel eyes sparkling with excitement. “What else is there to do out here?”

“Really?” he teased.

Her smile widened. “Other than miles of sweet trails to explore? We can get back to that as soon as they turn us away.”

“Of course we’ll fail with an attitude like that,” I quipped, then led the way toward the registration tent. I refused to fail. I needed this final outlet before returning home to the new life I’d chosen and the girl who would make it all worth it.

Another bus overflowing with hopefuls was just laboring over the hill and preparing to unload at the front parking lot. I didn’t want to get stuck behind them in line. Despite Tomas’s complaints, our friends followed close behind.

“Name?” A bored volunteer nursing a paper cup of lukewarm coffee asked.

“Lucas Altan.” I gave him my cheeriest smile.

He looked to be in his early twenties like me, but tried to project an air of jaded experience as he sipped his coffee, his expression bland. More like an intern who thought he would be doing exciting jobs this summer instead of babysitting registration.

We might have just arrived, but we’d get to do something a lot more awesome. Bored Joe handed me a form to fill out, along with a cheap pen with the logo of one of the film companies.

While I quickly filled out the form, I studied the area. The registration tent overlooked the hillside dropping down to the valley floor, giving us an excellent view. Hundreds of people were scurrying around dozens of huge ancient-looking tents, while an army of more volunteers were setting up spiked barriers and more fake wooden fortress walls.

Of course I didn’t spot any of the major stars, but scores of extras were already getting fitted for medieval armor and weapons. Dozens more were practicing basic fighting moves under the watchful gazes of the fight instructors. The entire scene was infused with an invisible energy that was intoxicating. I needed to get down there and join the crowd.

If those newbs had gotten accepted, we were sure to snag premier positions. If I could end up clearly visible in one of the battle scenes, that would blow Isabella’s mind. By then, we should already be engaged.

“Got any relevant skills for battle scenes?” I read the question aloud, elbowing Tomas and grinning.

“Maybe they’ll let us spar.”

Jean chuckled. “Finally you two can prove all that martial arts training’s been worth it.”

“You’ll see. We’ll get prime positions,” I promised as I quickly filled in my experience. She had no idea. My training had been my one major physical outlet while I got my degree and I’d been pushing hard. I’d even toyed with joining a full-contact competition league, but that would have to wait until after I launched my startup.

None of those practicing extras looked like they knew which end of a sword to pick up without direction. We should be fine. In seconds, we finished our applications and returned to Bored Joe.

Behind us, 30 new hopefuls were piling off the bus. Joe didn’t even scan our papers, but nodded toward the next tent over. “Take your forms over there.”

I led the way, a spring in my step. This was going to be awesome. As we crossed between the tents, I scanned the brilliant blue morning sky. Few clouds, lots of sun. I could already feel the air warming.

They’d picked a perfect spot to film a medieval battle scene. Even though we were in the middle of Colorado, I couldn’t actually see any of the countless taller peaks from where I stood. That little valley could be anywhere in the world.

Something moved in the distance.

“What is that?” I squinted at one of the higher hills peeking up behind the first rounded hilltops. It wasn’t smoke, like I’d originally feared.

Tomas nearly ran into my back. “What is what?”

“Look.” I gestured, not taking my eye from the weird sight. “Am I hallucinating, or does it look like the top of that hill is falling up into the sky?”

Jane laughed. “They’re taking the set makeover to a whole new level? Just imagine . . . What the hell?”

The entire mountain exploded upward.

The ground shook, knocking us off our feet in a heap. A peal of thunder shook the valley, so loud it felt like all the air above us had detonated.

“Volcano!” Tomas shouted as we all struggled to our knees on the shaking ground.

“Impossible,” Edmund cried. He didn’t speak much, but he was a geologist, so he’d know. Except how else could a mountain explode?

Looked like they’d have to cancel the movie shoot.