“Nice work, Trim,” he called out to the owl, who ignored him.
He climbed into the driver’s seat, feeling the air-infused cushioning wrap solidly about him. He found the belting mechanism, triggered it, and was locked in place. He looked down at the dash. No key. Just a numbered pad. You had to know the code. He thought about it a moment, and then felt under the gear locks. Sure enough, the code was engraved on the underside of the column. That was the way the owners did it with these machines, Michael had told him. If they were amateurs.
He traced the numbers with his fingers, reading them. Another trick Michael had taught him. It was sometimes better to start a vehicle in the dark, avoid using a light that would alert an enemy. He repeated the numbers to himself and then punched them in.
The Ventra’s engine came to life, a soft velvety purr that barely registered inside the cab. Logan smiled some more. He glanced at the rear seating—room enough for seven or eight—and then farther back at the storage and weapons compartments. There were two, long and wide enough for Parkhan Sprays and Tyson Flechettes. Equipped, he would wager.
He glanced down at the weapons panel and its array of blinking green lights. Rockets, sprays, lasers . . . He stopped, catching sight of something new and unexpected. The black lettering leapt out at him from the panel. Carbon Seekers. He hadn’t ever seen those, only heard about them. They weren’t installed on anything that wasn’t government-issue, in the days when there were still governments. But he knew how they worked. They targeted carbon-based life-forms—everything human, for starters—dispatched a dissolver, and the target simply ceased to exist. Very dangerous. Very effective. The thought that he had possession of not one, but two, gave him pause.
Who was the owner of this vehicle, and what had happened to him? Was this his escape transport when things got too bad, a transport he hadn’t had time to reach?
An instant later he heard Trim screech, and he looked up in time to see the owl lift off and disappear skyward. Something had disturbed the bird. Logan climbed from the Ventra without turning off the engine and hurried through the shed doors.
Outside, a huge Lizard was lumbering toward him, moaning and growling and raising its massive arms threateningly. The Lizard was covered in thick, jagged scales and was wearing the ragged remains of what had once been some sort of military uniform, now reduced to tatters.
The Lizard saw him and pointed as if seeking to freeze him in place. It stopped and began gesturing; then it pointed at the shed and shook its head as if to admonish Logan, waving its arms some more. For a moment, Logan thought it was simply crazed from its transformation.
Then all of a sudden he realized what was happening. The Lizard was trying to drive him away from the shed and its contents.
He had found the Ventra’s owner.
Which explained everything. The owner had been keeping his precious AV hidden away, waiting for who-knew-what. Whatever he was waiting for didn’t happen soon enough, and the owner exposed himself to radiation and began to change into a Lizard. He couldn’t stop the change, but he couldn’t make himself give up the vehicle, either.
Now he was too huge and too clumsy to operate the Ventra, which was why it was still locked away in the shed. All the owner could do was look at it.
“I’m sorry,” he told the Lizard. “I’m going to have to take it. I need it to help others who are in trouble.”
The Lizard tried to say something, but the words came out as gibberish that Logan couldn’t decipher. Apparently the mutation had affected its ability to speak. But there was no mistaking its intent. The Lizard did not want him to take the Ventra.
“I can’t let you keep it,” Logan answered. “I wish I could, but you don’t need it and there are others who do.”
The Lizard made a threatening movement, but Logan brought the black staff up at once. “Don’t do that,” he advised quickly. “I know how strong you are, but the staff makes me much stronger. You can’t stop this from happening. Even if you try, you can’t.”
A long few moments passed. The Lizard stood there, staring at him, not moving, no longer speaking. It didn’t seem to know what to do.
“I’m leaving now,” Logan told him. “If I can, I’ll come back for you when I’m done.” He tried to think of what else to say. “Look, I’ll take good care of it. The best I can.”
He realized how foolish that sounded, but it was all he could come up with. He hesitated a moment; then he went back into the shed, climbed into the AV, closed its heavy doors, and engaged the belting locks. He put the Ventra in gear and eased it through the shed doors out into the yard.