Jake Morrison's Arc

Chapter 11 of 54

Jake had the last board free. Through the gap he saw the truck in the lot. It sat squat and green, reinforced panels dented, doors hanging open. But from here he couldn't see the ignition. He didn't know if the keys were inside. Move blind, and they'd cross a lot full of wretches only to find a dead cab. Stranded in the open. All of them. He turned to Marcus. "I can't see the keys from here. If they're gone, we're stuck halfway." Marcus wiped his wrench on his jeans. He didn't blink. "Keys or no keys, I get it running." He said it flat, the way he said everything now. No bluff left in him. "I strip the column, cross two wires. Ninety seconds if she's clean." He looked at Jake. "You get me to the driver's door. I handle the rest." Jake studied him. Weeks ago he'd have doubted the mechanic. Now he trusted the wrench in that fist more than his own bat. "Okay then," Jake said. "Let's do this." He nodded to Marisol. She held the cracked phone. Her thumb hovered over the screen. "Ringer first," she said. "Then ten minutes." "Now," Jake said. She hit it. Somewhere across the lot, taped to a shelf near the far wall, the second phone screamed. Loud and sharp. Every wretch in the lot jerked toward the sound. Their heads snapped. Then they ran, a ragged tide of decayed limbs, clawing over each other toward the ringing. The lot in front of the truck opened up. "Move," Jake said. They ran. Sofia clutched two bags to her chest. Marisol kept the phone up, watching the count. Jake led with the bat, but no wretch turned back. The noise held them. Marcus reached the driver's door and hauled himself in. "Keys?" Jake shouted. "Empty!" Marcus was already under the column, wrench flashing. He tore the plastic loose. His hands worked fast in the dark. "Cover me!" Jake stood at the open door, bat raised, eyes on the far wall. The wretches swarmed the ringing shelf. Sofia threw the bags in back. Marisol climbed up beside Marcus, phone glowing. "Two minutes," she said. Sparks jumped under the column. The engine turned over, coughed, caught. It roared. Marcus sat up, grinning for the first time Jake had ever seen. "Go!" Jake threw himself in and slammed the door. Marcus dropped it into gear. The truck lurched forward across the lot. Behind them the far wall blew apart. The propane blast tore through the packed wretches in a wave of fire and metal. Heat slapped the back windows. Jake didn't look back. "Marina," Sofia said, breathless. "My dad's boat. Head for the water." Marcus swung the wheel. The truck cleared the lot and hit open road. For the first time, they were moving toward the sea, and nothing chased them.