Project Starfall (Completed)

Chapter 10

"What you imagine?" Grey gave her a questioning look.

He was interrupted by Knox, who held a beer bottle. Staring at it, Pierce noticed he had slipped the two rings she'd given him onto his hand. The gold was on his ring finger, but the silver was on his pinky, because, Pierce could tell, it was too small to fit on any of the others. "We got a car," he said, a slight slur to his voice.

"You shouldn't be drinking." Pierce frowned.

"Why not?" Knox stumbled to them. "I couldn't have driven, anyway. I haven't gotten an ounce of sleep since our escape, and as you can imagine I didn't get much the night before either."

Pierce felt instantly guilty. She'd been able to sleep during their flights, but Knox had been their non-stop pilot for hours. "Okay. I'll take over," she volunteered. "I can drive one-handed, and I feel fine besides being a little sore."

"You sure?" Grey asked. "I don't mind driving."

Pierce studied the weariness etched into his face. "Yeah, I'm sure. Although I haven't driven in years. Hopefully it will be like riding a bike; something you learn once then never forget." She turned back to Knox. "Where's this car?"

The car in question looked like it wouldn't make it the first mile before breaking down. It was a baby-blue pick-up truck with several dents and rust stains. The front windshield had a small crack and was missing a wiper. Pierce swore she could hear the heartbeats of tiny animals scurrying around inside it. "You've got to be kidding me," she muttered half to herself.

"Sorry. It's all I could get on short notice," Knox apologized, taking another swig from his beer bottle. Pierce shook her head disapprovingly at the car. They would never make it to Florida without being pulled over on suspicion alone.

"Where's this friend of yours?" Pierce asked. Knox pointed at a house behind them. It was a small place made of red brick, with a yard full of cars and weeds. Pierce trotted over and rapped on the door. Inside, dogs began to bark frantically.

A few seconds later it opened, and a greasy-haired man with a cigarette balanced between his teeth stepped outside, two Dobermans at his heels. The dogs growled and Pierce took a step backwards, eyeing the canines warily. "Can I help ya?" the man asked, words distorted by the cigar.

"We're going to need a different car," Pierce said, struggling to keep disgust from her tone at the sight of his uneven yellowed teeth and sunburned skin that glistened with a sheen of fresh sweat.

"You with Knox?" The guy frowned. One of his dogs barked, and Pierce flinched. "Now, now," the man scolded his dogs. "Is that any way to treat such a pretty young lady?" Pierce's stomach churned at the words, but she held her temper in check.

"Yeah, I'm with Knox." She nodded.

The man's demeanor became friendlier, and he reached out a sweaty hand with hairy knuckles. Pierce acted as if she didn't notice, and he dropped it. "Well, any friend of Knox is a friend of mine," he finally said. "Good kid, that one. The name's Marty, by the way." He withdrew his cigarette and blew a stream of smoke into the air.

"Pierce," she introduced herself curtly. Her nose wrinkled at the putrid stench of smoke. "So, about the car ... " Pierce brought the conversation back on track. "We need something a little nicer."

"Sorry, nothing I can do about it," Marty apologized. "Everything else is reserved."

The last of her patience depleted, Pierce reached to draw her gun, but Knox walked up from behind and grabbed her by the arm. "Pierce, I already talked to him. There's nothing he can do." She could see the warning in his eyes, and left her gun where it was.

"Fine. I guess we'll have to cross our fingers and hope that thing doesn't fall apart." Pierce sighed. "Where are the others, anyway?" She'd meant to ask earlier, but had been distracted by the transportation situation. She blamed the coffee for her current lack of multitasking ability.

"They went for a walk. Wanted to stretch their legs." Knox shrugged. "Grey went to get them a second ago." Shortly after he finished the sentence Pierce caught sight of Grey and the rest of the hybrids walking out from the nearby trees.

Pierce and Knox started to head toward them when Marty spoke. "Ya know, maybe we could make some kind of deal," he said, pointing at their helicopter. "That things out of fuel, so I'm guessing you won't be needing it no more."

"Yes?" Pierce asked, willing him to get on with his point.

"Well, why don't ya leave it with me and I'll find some use for the parts. If it's from the government, it's probably made from some good parts," he said. Pierce looked at Knox with a raised eyebrow, silently asking how Marty knew where the helicopter had come from.

"What? We're asking for an unregistered car. He already knew we weren't up to any good."

"Anyhow," Marty continued as if Knox hadn't interrupted. "Just give me the chopper and I'll give ya a van, although the person I promised it to is going to be pretty mad."

"Deal." Pierce nodded, waving for the rest of the hybrids to join her and Knox. Once they were all together again, Marty led them around to the back of his house, which was surrounded by a wooden fence. He opened a rotting gate that squealed in protest, and led them into a dirt and weed-filled backyard. Rows and rows of cars filled the space. The majority were old or damaged, but there were several nicer ones parked beneath an awning for sun protection. A couple with the shapes of sports cars were carefully wrapped in blankets.

"Here we are," said Marty, stopping at one of the nicer vehicles—a white van—beneath the awning. He blew one final puff on his cigarette, dropped it onto the dirt, then crushed it with the heel of his boot. "Keys are inside," said Marty, pulling open the door to the driver's seat. "Full tank of gas, everything up to code. Shouldn't be breaking down so long as ya don't crash it."

"Thanks Marty," Knox said, and the man grinned.

"Anything for you, kid," Marty replied, pulling Knox into a tight bear hug that would've crushed someone smaller. Then Marty stepped back, eyes lowering for a split-second to the two rings on Knox's left hand. A flash of sadness enter Marty's eyes, but it was gone in an instant, leaving Pierce wondering whether she had imagined it. If Knox was embarrassed by the ordeal he didn't show it.

"All right, everyone in," Pierce ordered, opening one of the back doors. The van had front and back windows that were darkly tinted—perfect for a bunch of human-animal hybrids on the run.

"Shotgun," Madigan declared, walking around the van and hopping into the passenger's seat. Pierce would've preferred Grey sit shotgun, but she could also see the advantage of separating Madigan from the rest of the hybrids.

Pierce climbed into the driver's seat and looked back at Marty. "Thanks." She nodded curtly, then slammed the door shut. The van had eleven seats in all, with Pierce and Madigan in the front. A row behind was Grey and Elliot, then Knox in the third.

Pierce found a key on the console, slipped it into the ignition, twisted, and listened as the engine came to life. Then she reversed with great care, hoping she wouldn't wreck the moment she started driving again. With her luck, that outcome was not unlikely. She made her way through the maze of illegal cars and out through the gate they'd entered. Marty waved, his reflection showing in the rearview mirror. Then Pierce turned onto the asphalt road and he disappeared from view.