"Find the ignition, and lay off the buttons!"
Too late; bullets riddled the truck door. Men yelled for backup.
"Ignition?" Matthew asked. The engine rumbled to life.
My eyes went wide. "Hell yeah, now take off the brake!" Between gulps of air, I coached him how to work the pedals, how to work the gearshift to one.
Grinding. Metal on metal. Cogs sounded like they were about to buckle. Then . . .
We were moving!
Backward?
BOOM!
We'd collided with a giant pillar. A support pillar. "Work the gearshift opposite of R!" I heard rock cracking. "Fast, fast!"
Grinding again. We were moving . . . forward. "That's it, boy!" We had to be headed toward the vehicle bay! By now the slavers would be lining up trucks to block us in.
As we picked up speed, we bounced off the mine walls like a pinball, coo-yon overadjusting the steering wheel.
"Try NOT to hit the sides!"
He craned his head back and cast me a grin.
"Eyes forward!" We scraped another wall. "Doan try to shift. Keep it this speed."
The lights grew brighter in the mine. Shouts got louder. More gunshots. We had to be getting close.
"They parked a line of trucks," he said. "Blocking the bay doors."
"Is there a load in the back of this hauler?"
He glanced over his shoulder. "Yes."
"Get up some more speed!" Maybe with the size of this truck and the weight of a full bed, we could bust through. "Aim for the space between the two smallest trucks, but hit it head on. Doan angle it, and do not let off that gas--you hear me?" I braced my good leg against the side of the cab. "Faster! Redline this engine!"
"Hold on!" He laid on the horn--
BOOM!
We rammed the blockade. I barely kept myself from slamming into the back of Matthew's seat.
His head snapped forward, face smacking the steering wheel. Had he let up on the gas? "We're stuck between trucks, Hunter."
Bullets pinged the door. Shattered the windshield. The hauler heaved, made like it'd stall. "Drop the hammer! More gas!" Metal shrieked. The engine strained. The cab vibrated till my teeth felt like they'd rattle out of my head. "Pedal down!" More straining. More bullets. Engine about to blow.
I heard a couple of men yelling, latching on to the hauler, climbing to the cab. "Coo-yon, find the lever that raised the bed!"
He reached forward. "This one?"
The hydraulics engaged. "Rev that one too!" Shafts spun. Pistons pumped. The bed rose faster, dumping salt.
Then . . . the resistance gave way! We were grinding forward between trucks, scraping off men and spewing tons of salt.
"Hunter, hold on. We're about to hit the--"
CRASH!
"--doors."
Fighting off more dizziness, I said, "Try for the next gear."
Grind, grind. The transmission shifted, and the hauler rumbled along, still dragging something that screeched.
"The salt buried their trucks on our way out!" Coo-yon peered back at me again. "All clear." Blood welled from his forehead, coursing down his face, a crimson mask.
Again my blurred vision made out another face. Matthew was like a sosie, an evil double.
"All clear," he repeated, but I didn't feel that way at all.
My head grew light, consciousness fading. "You goan to get me to Evie?" My life was in the hands of somebody I didn't recognize. "Tell her I'm coming."
"If you make it. Fifty-fifty."
I couldn't fight off the blackness anymore.
26
The Empress
I banged on the door to Aric's study. After rereading the Fool's betrayal for what must've been the hundredth time, I'd realized something.
This murder might be the secret Aric had kept for Matthew.
I'd slammed the book shut and announced that I was heading down to talk to Death. As I'd limped out of the room, Gran had called, "Remember not to kill him yet!"
Now Aric muttered from inside his study, "Leave me in peace."
"Open it, Reaper." As I'd hobbled down here, the lingering pain in my legs and head had ratcheted up my irritation. "Or I'll use a claw to jimmy the lock."
After a while, he opened the door.
I sidled past him and took my customary seat.
Aric never lied to me; I wouldn't to him. "Yes."
"And yet . . ." He exhaled. "Not only did you choose another man, you sought to reverse time for him."
"Not just for him. For all those people, and for Selena, and for you."
"Why for me?"
"We couldn't communicate, so I feared you were injured." I swallowed. "Or . . . drowned. You were wearing armor--in a flood! I imagined awful stuff happening to you. When I thought I'd lost both you and Jack, I nearly lost my mind." The love of my life and my soul mate.