Jason didn’t wait for girls first; he jumped out and went. Oliver boosted Eve up to the window, and she ran for the cab of the truck, where Jason was already climbing inside. Claire followed, avoiding any help from Oliver, and as she pulled herself up on the truck’s mounting step, she saw Oliver and Morley jump out of the building and flatten themselves on top of the truck, in full sun, arms and legs spread wide for balance. She banged the door shut behind her and squeezed in next to Eve, with Jason on the other side next to Shane.
“We couldn’t have done this boy/girl?” Shane complained, and started up the car. “Back off, freak!” That last was for Jason, who was pushing too close for Shane’s comfort, evidently. Claire tried wiggling closer to the passenger door, but the cab wasn’t made for four, no matter how relatively skinny they might be. And Shane wasn’t small.
“Just drive, smart-ass,” Jason snapped. Shane looked like he was considering hitting him. “Unless you want the two on top baked golden brown.”
“Crap,” Shane spat, and glared at the steering wheel as if it had personally offended him. He put the truck in gear, ground the gears, and got it roaring through the grass. It bumped hard over the curb, sending Claire into the dashboard, and she flailed to regain her balance as the truck slewed back and forth, got traction, and roared off down the street.
“Where the hell are you going?” Jason yelled.
“Your sister gets to talk. You don’t.”
“Fine,” Eve said. “Where the hell are you going, Shane?”
“The library,” he said. “I promised I’d bring the truck back.”
Claire blinked, looking over at him, and Eve, wide-eyed, shook her head.
“You know it’s desperate,” she said. “Shane is going to the library. ”
And in spite of everything, that was actually funny.
11
The library was about a block down, on the left. They passed a lot of empty, blank buildings, broken windows, destruction that seemed like the aftermath of a good looting. It didn’t seem recent, though.
The library’s windows were all intact, and there were people patrolling outside it—the first living people Claire had seen in Blacke, actually. She counted four of them, armed with shotguns and crossbows.
“My kind of library,” Shane said. “What with all the weapons and everything. I tried to boost the truck, and they finally let me have it, but I had to bring it back. This looks like the place to be. At least we can find out what the hell is going on, maybe get a bus or something.”
The guards outside the library were certainly paying attention. The guys with shotguns tracked the truck as it approached, and they looked really serious about firing, too. Claire cleared her throat. “Uh, Shane—?”
“I see it,” he said. He slowed the truck to a crawl. “So, I’m guessing, Hi, we’re friendly strangers with a bunch of vampires in your bread truck probably isn’t the way to go here.” He put the truck in reverse. “Guess this wasn’t as good an idea as it looked at a distance.”
“Maybe we should—”
Whatever Eve was about to suggest became useless, because two police cruisers, carrying more armed bubbas, came screaming out of alleys on either side of the library building and blocked Shane’s exit. Shane hit the brakes. In seconds, Claire’s door was yanked open, and a huge man with a shotgun glared at her, grabbed her, and dragged her out onto the hot pavement. He pressed fingers to her throat for a second, then yelled, “Live one!”
“This one, too!” yelled his buddy, who was pulling a fighting, screaming Eve out of the cab. “Watch it, girl!”
“You watch it, you pervert! Hands!”
“Hey, leave her alone!” That was Jason, flinging himself out after Eve, looking every bit the feverish little maniac Claire remembered from the first time she’d seen him. Maybe a little cleaner. Maybe.
He must have moved too fast for the armed guard’s comfort, because he got hit in the guts with the stock of the shotgun, and collapsed to the street. Eve screamed his name, and got picked up and bodily carried into the library, along with Claire. “No!” Claire screamed, and looked back at the truck. Shane was getting wrestled out of the driver’s side, and Jason was being dragged to his feet.
This was not going well. And where the hell were Oliver and Morley? They weren’t on top of the van anymore....
Oliver dropped from the overhanging roof of the library and drop-kicked the bubba holding Claire. He shoved Claire out of the way as the one holding Eve aimed a crossbow and fired; Oliver snatched the arrow right out of the air and snapped the thick shaft with a twist of his fingers, grinning. “Let the girl go,” he said. “I’ve played this game with many better than you. And they all died, friend.”
He was looking pink from exposure to the sun, but not burned. Not yet. Uncomfortable, maybe. The guard’s eyes darted around, looking for support, and found it in the form of two more cowboy-hatted men racing to the rescue.
With shotguns.
Claire threw herself forward, throwing her arms wide. Eve let out a warning cry, but Claire stepped in front of Oliver as the shotguns came up. “Wait! ” she yelled. “Just wait a second! He’s with us!”
The shotguns focused on her.
Oh, crap.
“You’re running with the bloodsuckers?” one of them said in a soft, dangerous voice. “Little girl like you?”
“He’s not like—like those things at the courthouse,” she said. She put her hands up in the surrender position and took a step toward them. “We’re not supposed to be here. We just want to leave, okay? All of us. We want out of town.”
“Well, you ain’t leaving town,” the guy holding Eve said. “You or any of your fanged little friends. We’re not letting this thing spread any farther. Blacke is under quarantine.”
The heavy library doors opened, and a small, gray-haired woman stepped out. She didn’t look much like a leader—Claire wouldn’t have picked her out of a crowd at first glance—but immediately, everybody looked toward her, and Claire felt the gravity of the scene shift in her direction.
“Charley?” the woman asked. “Why are you pointing a shotgun at this pretty little girl? I heard somebody say she was a live one.”
“She’s with them!”
“There are no collaborators, Charley. You know that. Either she’s infected, or she’s not.There’s no in-between. Now lower your gun, please.” The woman’s pleasant voice took on a steely undertone. “Lower it. Now.”
“That one behind her, he’s infected,” Charley said. “Guaranteed.”
“Actually,” Oliver said, “in the sense you mean it, I’m not infected. Not in the way you’re thinking.”
The older woman, without so much as a pause, un-slung a strap from her shoulder, loaded a crossbow bolt, and fired it right into Oliver’s chest.
He toppled over and hit the ground with a heavy thud. Claire screamed and ran to his side. When she reached for the bolt to pull it out, the woman grabbed her arm and pulled her back, struggling. She shoved Claire at one of her guards, who held her securely. “You know what to do,” she said to another one of them, nodding toward Oliver. “Let’s get these kids inside. I don’t want them to see this.”
“No, you don’t understand!” Claire shouted. “You can’t—”
“I understand that he’s a vampire, and for whatever twisted reason, you want to protect him,” the woman said. “Now be quiet. You’re not in any danger here.”
Claire thought about all the vampires locked in the back of the truck. Michael.
She couldn’t tell them about that. If they were going to kill Oliver, just like that, she couldn’t imagine what they might do to a whole, confined load of vampires. It’d probably be way too easy. The sun was sliding steadily toward the horizon. Maybe, when it was blocked by the eastern buildings and there was enough shadow, they could get out of the truck and scatter.