LIFERS Chapter Thirty Six

Nick’s van had run out of fuel along a narrow stretch of Old Liberty Road where dense woods lined one side and deep ditches, most filled with rainwater, lined the other.

The rain had died from torrential and was now somewhat intermediate, a heavy shower followed by fine rain, followed by another heavy shower and so on.

They were around a hundred or so yards from the van when they saw the lights of an oncoming vehicle about a quarter of a mile farther along the road. Jill took her gun from the rear of her jeans and made for the security of one of the watery ditches.

‘Get in here, Nick,’ she urged.

But Nick just stood and pointed. ‘But they might be able to help us,’ he said.

‘Listen, Nick, there’s only be two types of people who might use this road; those who are lost, like you were, and those who feed on the lost. Now, do you really want to wait for those people to get here and then ask them which category it is they fall into? Or do you do the smart thing and get your ass in here right now?’

Nick looked back at the lights of the vehicle and pulled the 45 from his pocket before he too made for the ditch. Both of them, and for the second time in the last twenty minutes, were waist deep in brown, muddy water. Nick’s red fuel container rested on the water’ssurface as they concealed themselves behind clumps of Deer-grass and looked on to see a red 4x4 caked in mud up to its windows. The car slowed until it came to a stop behind the van where it waited.

‘Can you see them?’ Nick said.

‘No, too far away.’

‘What do you reckon they’re doing?’

Jill shook her head. ‘Beats me, but it looks like they have enough room to pass your van so why don’t they?’

‘Perhaps we should go and speak to them.’

‘Let’s see what they do first, and then we’ll dec−’

Jill was cut short when the 4x4 revved its engine and then started to ram the van off the road.

‘What the hell's he doing?’ Nick said, about to climb from the ditch.

Jill gripped him by the hem of his jacket. ‘Don’t be so stupid, Nick. If they see you we’re as good as dead.’

‘Can you not see what they’re doing?’

‘Of course I can, but the van will be fine. If they were people-type-people they wouldn’t just ram it out of the way now would they? Can’t you see that?’

The 4x4 pushed until the van was off the road and shoved hard up against a tree, then the driver spun all four of its wheels in triumph and sped off to disappear over a hill.

Jill and Nick clambered from the ditch and Nick went to check the van over. The rear doors were pretty much dented and the driver’s headlight had busted when it hit the tree, other than that the van was fine and Nick started to empty the fuel container into it. Jill ran to the top of the hill to see the 4x4 bounce from mound to mound and splash its way through puddles as it carried on for Martinsville.

‘You know what?’ she said when she got back. ‘When Gregg hears that car turn into the street he’s going think it’s us and be stood there with the shutter wide open.’

‘Then we need to get a move on and get back to help him,’ Nick said, as he emptied the last of the fuel from the container.

‘But they’ll arrive any minute, and we won’t make it in time before they get to him.’

‘Well there’s nothing we can do about that but get our skates on.’

‘Can’t you fire one of your rockets? If he sees it he’ll know we’re still out here and realise they’re not us.’

‘I don’t have rockets,’ he said, then wrenched open the twisted doors. ‘Here, take a look for yourself.’

What Jill saw wasn’t like any type of firework she’d seen before. In fact, nothing in there bore any resemblance to what she would regard as being even close to a firework. Huge, bulbous, and wrapped in brown paper, all they seemed to be missing was the word “BOMB” painted on them in white.

Nick tossed the empty container into the van and forced the doors shut. ‘They’re not meant for use by the general public.’ he explained. ‘You have to obtain an NFPA 1132; it’s a license that gives you authorisation to use them.’

‘That’s very interesting, Nick,’ she said, but tried not to sound too condescending. ‘And I’d love to hear more, perhaps over a beer when all this is over. But right now it’s not helping Gregg’s situation.’

At that, Nick pushed his glasses along his nose, dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his keys. ‘Let’s get going then,’ he said.

They climbed in, fastened their seatbelts, and after a few uncertain turns of the key, the engine fired up. Nick manoeuvred the van onto the road and they too were on their way back to Martinsville.