On it.
Big Red roared south on Vermont.
They stretched Mark out on the panel above the cab, strapping him down for safety. Lady Bee perched by his feet. Jarvis crouched next to him with a wet bandanna and tapped the man’s cauterized stump. “Hey, stay awake.”
“I’m awake,” Mark hissed through gritted teeth. Sweat beaded across his face. “Give me another shot of the rum.”
“Top five celebrity kills. Who were they?”
He held the bottle in his shaky left hand and took two awkward swallows. “Paula Abdul. Charlie Sheen. Frasier. Whatshername... the Asian cylon from Battlestar Galactica.” His eyes fluttered.
“Hey!” Jarvis grabbed the bottle and shook him. “Come on, you got to stay with me. That’s only four.”
Mark blinked a few times. “Number one,” he said. “I got Trebek.”
“What? You’re lying.”
“Nah.”
“You’re delusional,” said Jarvis. He wiped his friend’s forehead.
Mark shook his head and coughed.
St. George swung up from the running boards. “How’s he doing?”
“Serious shock, said Lady Bee. “Some blood loss. He’s burning up. Not a hundred percent sure Zzzap took the arm in time.”
“He’s going to be fine,” said St. George. “We’ll be home in less than ten minutes. Barry’s already there letting them know what happened.”
Big Red swung hard at the intersection to add emphasis.
Lynne’s knuckles were white on her rifle. “Why didn’t she just shoot it?”
Cerberus looked down at her. “They’re full of disease. You were under it. If she killed it and any of the fluids got on you, you’d be the one dying right now.”
She winced. “Is he dying? Are you sure?”
The armored titan shrugged. “Probably.”
“STOP!!”
Lady Bee pounded her hand on the cab’s roof.
Luke slammed the brake to the floor and wrenched up the emergency brake. Big Red squealed on the pavement, leaving a trail of black rubber. Jarvis threw himself over Mark and pinned the wounded man down. Cerberus staggered. Bee pitched forward off the roof of the cab and St. George grabbed her as he lunged through the air.
Both front tires exploded. The truck dropped, stumbled forward, and the rear dually tires blew out. Big Red lurched a few more feet, limp wheels slapping the pavement, and came to rest just between the crooked intersection of Melrose and New Hampshire.
“Son of a BITCH!” bellowed Luke. He pounded the steering wheel and threw open the door.
St. George set Bee down on the ground. “Thanks for the catch,” she said.
He nodded. “Everyone okay? How’s Mark?”
There were nods and thumbs up.
Luke examined the tire. “Ruined,” he muttered. “No patching these.”
St. George poked the oversized wheel. “Don’t suppose you’ve got six spares hidden away somewhere?”
“Yeah, just let me pull those out of my ass.” Luke drove his boot into the sagging tire.
Cerberus glanced down the road. “How far are we from the Mount?”
“Little over a mile. Too far to walk before dark,” said Lady Bee. “A bunch of blow-outs and a nice, high-pitched brake squeal on a quiet evening. Every ex for six or seven blocks is going to be headed this way.”
“Any guess how many that is?”
She shrugged and held her walkie up in the air. “Five, maybe six hundred. We’re still too far to get a walkie signal.”
“We’re being jammed,” boomed the titan. “There’s something broadcasting wide-spectrum white noise nearby.”
Andy and Lee were behind the truck, sweeping the road with their feet while the other riders covered them. Something on the ground clinked and Lee bent down. “Shit,” he said. “Boss, come take a look at this.”
“Good eyes, Bee,” said Andy.
It was a thick chain, the size used for trailer hitches and fences. A pair of nails were welded across each link, a line of spikes stretched across the road. The chain was spray painted black, and a few old newspapers completed the camouflage.
“Jammed and crippled,” muttered Andy. “That sounds like a trap to me.”
“Worse,” said Lee. “A trap someone set since we drove by earlier.”
Ty looked around. “Seventeens?”
“Well, it ain’t the exes,” said Lee.
Lynne gripped her rifle. “So what the hell’s the point of this?”
“We get left out here,” said Luke with another glare at Big Red’s ruined tires. “Best case scenario, from their point of view, we stay here, the exes kill us all, and they get half a truckload of supplies come morning. Worst case, we run away, the exes kill some of us, and they get half a truckload of supplies come morning.”
“Why not kill us and take everything?”