In a sun‑bleached, offbeat setting, an all‑female motorcycle gang known as the Cycle Sluts rolls into the quiet town of Zariah, turning heads and stirring a mix of curiosity and unease among locals. The arrival is more than just a break from routine; it sets the stage for a clash between rough, rebellious freedom and a creeping, morbid menace lurking beneath the town’s surface.
Beneath the surface, a mortician named Ralph Willum, Don Calfa in the cast, is at the center of a chilling scheme. He partners with a long‑suffering dwarf assistant to carry out killings that feed a more gruesome purpose: turning the townspeople into zombies who can be put to work in an abandoned mine. The mine itself carries the scar of underground nuclear testing and remains far too radioactive for living labor, a detail that underscores the danger wrapped in this eerie enterprise. The scientist behind the operation eventually confesses that money is not the primary motive; his real drive is a cold, plain cruelty that thrives on power over others.
Everything changes when a curious little boy pries open a lock, allowing the zombies to escape their confinement and wander toward the town. The sudden breach unsettles the residents, but the most startling development is yet to come: a bus filled with blind orphans becomes stranded on the town’s outskirts. Their ride breaks down, and the bus driver calmly explains that he keeps an Uzi on the bus “for sentimental reasons,” a line that lands with a jolt of dark humor amid the escalating danger. The scene establishes a precarious balance between fear, bleak practicality, and a grim sense of absurdity that threads through the film.
With fragile memories of life guiding their instincts, the zombies begin to roam again, their appetite returning as they seek out living flesh. The Cycle Sluts, long dismissed by some locals, rise to the challenge and decide to defend the town. They confront the threat with improvised but effective weaponry—chainsaws, baseball bats, welding torches, a garrote, and a staple gun—turning the town into a chaotic, bloody battleground where survival hinges on quick thinking and teamwork. The group’s resolve strengthens as they push back against the undead menace, using each tool at their disposal to reclaim their streets.
As the battle unfolds, the film gradually reveals more about its human dynamics. The Cycle Sluts’ intervention is not simply about stopping the infection; it’s about reclaiming agency in a town that had once dismissed or dismissed them as reckless outsiders. The tension between the townspeople and the outsiders intensifies, but the women in the gang push forward, determined to protect what remains of their community. The doctor’s malevolence is tempered by a surprising turn of allegiance from the dwarf, who abandons his role as henchman and offers a different path—one that shifts the momentum of the confrontation just when it seems the zombies might overwhelm the town.
The climax centers on a dramatic ploy at the town church, a place loaded with symbolic weight and practical danger. The Cycle Sluts lure the surviving zombies into the church and seal them inside, where they rack the building with dynamite. The plan hinges on timing and the collapse of containment, with the church ultimately erupting into flames along with the undead. The blast seals the fate of the remaining zombies and marks a brutal but decisive victory for the Cycle Sluts.
Following the explosion, the group is rewarded in a hard‑won moment of triumph. They acquire a sack of cash, a grim reminder of the cost of their victory, and extend an unorthodox welcome to the dwarf and several of the blind orphans, inducting them as honorary members of the Cycle Sluts. The film then closes on a nomadic note of freedom and rough gratitude: the Cycle Sluts ride away from Zariah, accompanied by a handful of men who join their ranks, a stark departure from the town’s earlier hostility and a clear signal of the group’s hard‑edged—and unapologetic—resolve to move on.
Throughout, the film sustains a steady, unflinching tone that juxtaposes exploitation cinema aesthetics with a surprisingly persistent sense of communal resilience. The Cycle Sluts’ arrival, the mine’s toxic danger, the spectral threat of the zombies, and the climactic church‑fire crescendo all blend into a single, pulpy narrative arc that leans into genre tropes while striving to keep its own rough-edged momentum intact. The result is a story that feels built on audacity and a stubborn insistence on agency—both for the misfit outsiders who form the gang and for the town that must decide whether the outsiders are its salvation or its newest complication.
Characters and performers surface in a way that reinforces the film’s mosaic of personalities. The mortician Ralph Willum, portrayed by Don Calfa, anchors the antagonistic side with a concrete, calculating menace, while the sheriff of the town provides a counterweight of local authority and concern, played by Lewis Arquette. The human color in the town comes from figures like Mae Clutter, brought to life by [Martha Quinn], whose presence adds texture to the community’s fabric, and Rox, a local whose interactions with the Cycle Sluts help humanize the outsiders’ impact. The cast also threads in other standout names who contribute to the film’s eclectic mood, including T.C. brought to screen by [Lycia Naff], and Tanya realized by [Nina von Arx], each adding a distinct note to the town’s social tapestry. The lively presence of Jojo, played by [Kristina Loggia], and Lucile, played by [Whitney Reis], helps populate the town’s social web, even as the zombie threat grows closer and closer to tearing it apart.
In the end, the film’s blend of neon‑tinged action, kitschy violence, and a wry, almost cartoonish sense of peril creates a distinctive, if unsettling, slice of cult cinema. It doesn’t apologize for its outrageous premise or its willingness to mix humor with horror, and it invites viewers to linger on the tension between danger and camaraderie, between fear and the stubborn hope that a community can endure—even when its most unexpected allies turn out to be a motorcycle gang with a ferocious instinct to protect what still matters.
