Ray shrugged. “It might, but what are they really going to do for us?”
I gestured toward the van. “That.”
The driver got out of the car and Marcy reached in the window and honked the horn. “We’re ready to go,” she called. She’d been negotiating with Teddy since he’d arrived. He was supposed to be the tall guide’s nephew, but he appeared to be older—considerably older. We walked toward the van. Marcy came around the front. “James is driving and I’m riding shotgun. Anyone complains, I don’t give two hoots. I have to make a quick phone call before we head out so I can wire Teddy here some money for his beautiful van.” She nodded toward Teddy, who with his long, grizzly beard had a ZZ Top vibe going.
Tyler made a show of inspecting the vehicle as Marcy borrowed a cell phone from the shorter guide to make the call. “Will it make it eighteen hundred miles?” he asked Teddy, skepticism in his voice.
“Sure ’nough,” Teddy said as he spit on the ground in front of us. “This here van is sound. My twin brother, Glenn, is a mechanic.” He patted the hood. “She’s been rebuilt more than ten times. Won’t be no issue for you.”
Ten times? I hoped Marcy wasn’t paying him much.
“Last rebuilt when?” my brother asked.
“Oh, about seven years ago,” Teddy answered. “But that ain’t no problem. He tinkers with it a lot.”
Before my brother could tell him off, I held up my hand. “Thank you for bringing it over so quickly. I’m sure it’ll get us home just fine. If it doesn’t, we’ll cope.” I turned to Tyler. “And here I didn’t think anything could trump the bright yellow Hummer you bought for us. Looks like you and Teddy have similar taste in vehicles, and I’m sure Glenn did a great job on the most recent rebuild.”
“That Hummer was built to withstand a war. This thing smells like it burns oil and gas every time the tires spin,” Tyler countered, irritated with me. “And that many rebuilds means its engine has parts from fifty different vehicles. It’ll be a miracle if we can limp back home in this piece of sh—”
“Done.” Marcy clapped her hands as she gave the cell phone back to Shorty and turned to the vehicle owner. “Teddy, the money is in your account. You can go check if you don’t trust me. We’ll take it from here.”
“Oh, I know you’re good for it, Red,” he said, tossing the keys to James, who was heading for the driver’s side. “Just like my uncle’s boat, feel free to bring it back anytime.” He winked and grinned at his own joke. I think we’d underestimated ol’ Teddy. Wrapping my head around how he was the taller guide’s nephew was too much trouble, so I turned and piled into the back with everyone else.
“How much did you pay for this thing?” Tyler grumbled as he climbed in behind me.
“Don’t ask,” Marcy said from the front. “It’s better for everyone that way.”
James revved it up, and it did the opposite of purr. It sounded more like a junkyard dog scrabbling for his next meal in a bunch of tin cans. Rourke and I were in the last row and I immediately lay down, sprawling out on his lap. It was a twenty-seven-hour drive in human time. But James would break the speed limit by a good fifty miles an hour and Marcy would make sure no cop stopped us.
I flew off Rourke’s lap, my body hitting the seat in front of me, before the van skidded to a stop. James’s outraged bellow followed one second later, and we were all instantly wide awake.
I scrambled back onto my seat, Rourke leaning down to assist me. “What is it, Irish?” Rourke called. He made sure I was fine and then maneuvered himself toward the van’s side door. “Did you hit something? Or is something out there?”
“I didn’t hit anything,” James said. “The van just died. On its own. It was all I could do to get us to the side of the road. A small tree took pity on us and stopped us.”
“Did the van die because it’s a complete piece of shit or was it something supernatural?” Tyler asked, getting out of his seat to look out the window.
“I have no idea,” James said, peering over the steering wheel into the darkness. “It just died.”
“I don’t feel any spells,” Marcy said. “But that doesn’t mean much. I didn’t on the plane either.”
“Where are we?” I asked. I’d been asleep the entire time up until this point.
Marcy turned around. “We crossed into Georgia about an hour ago. We’re on some small country road. Too many cops for me to keep spelling the highways. Since James insists on going over a hundred miles an hour, it’s made it difficult. It’s a miracle this rattletrap can even maintain that speed. It’s possible we just blew out the engine.”
We’d all discovered quickly that this van shook at high speeds. “Wouldn’t there be smoke or noise if the engine blew?” I said. “I didn’t hear anything, but I was asleep.”
“Jess is right,” Nick said. “I was awake and I didn’t hear anything. The van just stopped working.”
That meant trouble.
Ray had opted to fly an hour in, muttering about smells and gator vans, so he was somewhere out there.
The boys piled out of the van.
“Marcy, do you have your cell phone on you still?” I asked as I went to sit closer to her.
“Yep. I’ve been checking it religiously, but all’s been quiet in Juanita-Land. I’ve been secretly hoping she would send me little flashes to help us, but there’s no dire message blinking on the screen.” She pulled it out to double-check. “Nope, nothing there.”