Crushed (City of Eldrich Book 2) (23 page)

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

T
he sound of
the approaching vehicle grew louder. Whatever it was, it was big. After a moment, Meaghan heard the whine of a second engine.

She glanced at the wizards. Both stared in the direction of the sounds.

Baldy muttered, “What the hell?”

Meaghan heard a crack, like fireworks going off, and Baldy flinched as if punched and fell face first to the ground. A red stain blossomed on the back of his gray robe.

A second crack rent the air. The other wizard screamed and fell. He held his leg, shrieking in pain, as blood bubbled through his fingers.

The sound of the engines forgotten, Meaghan wheeled wildly around trying to find the source of the shot.

City hall. Somebody was shooting from the roof.

A few more cracks and more wizards fell. The shooter was taking his or her time and targeting only robed wizards.

Whoever was shooting was on their side. Brian, she thought. It’s got to be Brian.

The mob broke in panic, running from the square. The witches appeared to be waking up, looking around confused.

The remaining wizards began frantically gesticulating and shouting. They were trying to put up a barrier to block the sniper.

Meaghan sprinted toward the bonfire, clumsy with her hands tied behind her back. She had to rally the witches and get Jamie and Natalie free before the panicked wizards ignited the pile.

A wizard tackled her. He kneeled over her, fist raised to strike. Another crack and he fell sideways, screaming.

Meaghan crawled out from under him and scrambled awkwardly to her feet. She heard yet another crack, this time followed by a sizzle and burst of light.

The barrier was up and the sniper couldn’t help her anymore.

She surveyed the scene. The wizards had circled the witches, chanting, and Meaghan watched some, but not all, of the witches’ faces go slack again.

Those witches still in control of their faculties conjured their own barriers. The witches began waking up again, but they were trapped. If they lowered their barriers to attack, they’d be easy targets for the encircling wizards.

The mob began to calm and started to methodically line South Street along the square. Another circle was forming behind the bonfire. Between the barricades on either end of the block and the human wall connecting them, the vehicles she’d heard would only be able to approach by mowing over the hexed and possessed townspeople.

She heard the witches screaming and whirled toward them. They were staring in horror at the bonfire. Natalie struggled to free herself, but Jamie still slumped in his chains, weeping. Two wizards were emptying gas cans onto the wooden pile.

When they were finished, they tossed the empty cans away, and moved back. A few more wizards, some limping and bloodstained from the sniper’s shots, approached them. They formed a circle and began to mutter and sway. Sparks crackled in the air above their heads.

As Meaghan screamed and ran toward them, time seemed to slow. What felt like minutes was probably only seconds.

A lot happened all at once.

The wizards stepped back and Meaghan could see a ball of flame hanging in the air.

Natalie let out a muffled wail of terror as the witches screamed.

The ball of flame began to spin rapidly, then shot toward the pile. The ball flew in a smooth arc toward Natalie and Jamie, but at the last second swerved, as if it had been swatted aside. It still landed on the pile, but on a far corner.

The wood smoldered a moment and then caught fire, but with a gentle whoosh. By some miracle, the wizards’ ball of flame must have landed on a portion of the pile that had not been splashed with gasoline.

Meaghan heard screams behind her and saw the mob lining the street fleeing from something. The whine of vehicles at high speed was joined by a blaring car horn.

The driver didn’t swerve to avoid townspeople or the barricade. Instead the first vehicle came
over
the barricade.

It was a pink Hummer—bubble-gum pink—with huge tires and a snowplow blade on the front. What it couldn’t shove aside, it drove over.

An advertising wrap, designed to look like a leopard print scarf, twined around the doors and hood, and featured a photograph of a smiling middle-aged woman with black hair and big gold earrings, next to bold letters stating, “Gigi Nackos, Your Happy Valley Real Estate Expert!”

It screeched to a halt in front of her. The passenger door swung open.

Patrice sat behind the wheel, tiny inside the massive space. She barked, “Get in.”

As soon as Meaghan neared the door, hands reached and pulled her into the vehicle. Before she registered whose hands they were, she gasped, “The fire. They’re burning Jamie and Natalie. We have to put it out.”

“Done,” Patrice said. A moment later, the fire hydrant on the east end of South Street exploded. Water gushed into the sky and then seemed to bend in a graceful fountain toward the pile.

The flames went out with a hiss of steam. After thoroughly soaking the pile, the water seemed to bend again, and shot at the wizards like a high-powered fire hose. Screaming, they were knocked off their feet.

Meaghan finally noticed the other occupant of the vehicle.

John.

She gaped at him as he pulled her over the console and into the backseat. He produced a knife and cut the zip tie binding her hands.

“What . . . what are you doing here?” she finally managed to stammer.

“Saving you,” he said with a grin. He pulled her into a crushing hug. “I’m not so helpless as you think.”

“But the forge, the lock, only Terry can open it. Who let you out?”

John nodded in the direction of Patrice. He gave Meaghan a warning look and Meaghan realized he was afraid. “She is strong now. I . . .” He shook his head. “She is more than she appears.”

Patrice gunned the Hummer in the direction of the bonfire, not swerving. Wizards dove out of the way. She screeched to a halt in front of the now steaming pile and shouted, “John, you’re up.”

He reached behind the seat and pulled out a huge set of bolt cutters. “Come. Help me. I’ll get him, you get her.”

They climbed out of the truck and onto the pile. Grunting, his neck muscles straining, John cut through the heavy chains. Jamie slumped into his arms, and John threw him over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Meaghan pulled the now loose chains from Natalie and ripped the gag from her mouth.

Natalie clung to her, crying and shaking so hard she could barely stand. Meaghan half-dragged, half-carried her to the Hummer.

John placed Jamie in the front seat and climbed in the backseat with Meaghan and Natalie.

Patrice glanced over at Jamie and caressed his cheek with her fingers. He barely stirred. “Come on, big guy,” she said with a gentle smile. She leaned over him and fastened his seat belt. “Let’s get those nasty things out of your head.”

“Buckle up and hang on,” Patrice called over her shoulder to the backseat occupants. She jammed the Hummer into reverse, and screeched backward in an arc until she was facing city hall. She stepped on the gas and accelerated toward the front door.

The sun barely peeked over the horizon. The first rays of daylight highlighted the battered wreck of city hall. The turret where Meaghan’s office had been looked like an exploded firework. The roof was gone and twisted girders splayed out like the petals of an iron flower. Meaghan could see her desk, teetering on the edge of what remained of her office floor.

Next to it, where Jamie’s office had been, yawned a gaping hole. It might have been a trick of the morning sun, but the hole seemed to be glowing, pulsating with yellow light.

Two wizards stood on the walkway, not moving as the Hummer sped toward them. They looked smaller and thinner than the wizards on the square, like Caleb, the possessed kid who’d attacked Meaghan in June.

“Patrice, don’t hit—”

Before Meaghan could finish, Patrice nodded and the wizards were swept aside, gently, like autumn leaves in a light breeze.

Two larger wizards stood behind them, on the short flight of steps leading to the door, carrying semi-automatic rifles. With a savage laugh, Patrice drove up the stairs straight toward them. Before they could flee, she was on them. They both disappeared under the vehicle.

Meaghan and John exchanged a glance. He had gotten to know his daughter-in-law fairly well over the last couple of months and Meaghan could tell by the look on his face that he was as shocked as Meaghan by Patrice’s bloodthirsty demeanor.

She looked over at Natalie who sat huddled next to her, shaking with cold and fear. Natalie met her gaze, wide-eyed, and shook her head.

The Hummer crashed through the front entrance, the snowplow blade splintering the heavy oak doors and shattering the plate glass, then screeched to a halt in the lobby right in front of the security desk.

Patrice looked in the rearview mirror with a smile. “How we doing back there? Everybody okay?”

The three occupants of the backseat nodded, eyes wide, unable to speak.

“Great,” Patrice said. “John, would you grab that cardboard box in the back and see if you can find some clothes and shoes for Natalie? And there should be an old pair of Jamie’s running shoes in there, too. There’s a lot of broken glass on the floor.”

While John rummaged for the clothes, Meaghan remembered the second vehicle. “Where’s Russ? Was somebody following you?”

Patrice nodded. “That was Russ. In his food truck. It’s a little dinged up in the back from the police car, but once we moved that out of the way, it was fine.”

Meaghan glanced at John. The police car had been a lump of mangled steel. It would require some serious muscle and possibly a blow torch to untangle it from the truck and break it into small enough pieces to shove out of the way.

John raised his eyebrows and tilted his chin slightly toward Patrice.

“But it’s steel,” Meaghan whispered to John. “It’s impervious.”

Patrice sighed. “I know you have a lot of questions. Trust me, I do too. I don’t know how I’m doing this stuff. I just am, and until we get this mess cleaned up and get everybody home safe, I’m not going to worry about it. We can figure out what I am tomorrow.”

Natalie squeaked with fear.

Patrice turned in her seat. “Please don’t be scared. Whatever this is, whatever I
am
, I’m still me.”

With a slight tremor in his hands, John handed her a large pair of battered running shoes.

Her face lit up with a smile. “There they are. Good thing I grabbed them out of the minivan. I had a feeling we might need them.” She took the shoes and turned back toward Jamie. “Honey, give me a foot.”

He didn’t move.

Patrice snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Hey, Sleepy, wake up. We’re gonna go fight bad guys now.” She sighed, then slapped his face a few times. “James, wake up. Now.”

He groaned and opened his eyes. He blinked up at her a few times. “I’m sorry,” he said, “They made me. I’m . . . if you never forgive me, I understand.”

Patrice grimaced. “Don’t be a dope. I’m not that fragile.” She smiled and caressed his cheek again. “Baby, you’re a mess.” She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. “Don’t you worry about me. If you ever hit me again, I’ll kick your ass to the moon.”

He smiled back at her. “That seems fair.” He shut his eyes. “I’m so tired.” He opened his eyes. “Are the kids okay?”

“Fine. They’re at the Nackos family reunion down in Altoona. Gigi took the kids and the minivan and I took her truck.”

Jamie chuckled weakly. “Yeah, this looks something Gigi would drive.”

Natalie stared out the window, blankly. John handed Meaghan a wad of clothing from the box. She passed it to Natalie, who grasped it close, but didn’t try to get dressed.

“Where’s Russ?” Meagan asked again.

“Mopping up and freeing the witches,” Patrice said. She raised her eyebrows. “With
Emily
of all people. Didn’t see that one coming.” She looked around the truck. “Everybody ready to go? If you need to use the bathroom, now’s the time. The lavs on two and three probably aren’t working too well thanks to Bob the Un-Builder, here.” She patted Jamie’s shoulder. “C’mon, honey. Let’s go save the world.”