Part III—Flying Cars

"SONNY, CHECK my phone," Ernie said, pointing to the device on the dash, which was charging.

Sonny did, punching in the code like the good friend he was. "Fuck," he muttered and twirled his finger. "One-eighty."

"Fuck," Ernie replied. "What's it say?"

"We'll need a ride outside of Barstow," Sonny read. "If you see a sheriff's vehicle charging with lights and sirens, pull off onto the side of the road and let it pass."

Ernie slow blinked. "Oh Lord," he muttered. "Yeah. Yeah. This is gonna be tricky." He didn't know exactly what Ace had planned, but given what they knew of the preacher's deputy brother, Ernie had a feeling the kittens in the RV were the only creatures with a prayer of staying safe. "Signal our friend and hold on," he muttered, and then, after making sure there wasn't a vehicle near the horizon—or one behind them, other than their friend in the RV—he yanked the emergency brake and then hit the gas while there was still momentum left from the one-eighty. Next to him, Sonny whooped, holding on to the dashboard, pure excitement etched on his peaked face.

"You're just like Ace now!" he crowed.

Ernie gave him a quick grin, pleased with the compliment. Ahead he saw the RV, with a very surprised Mr. Christiansen in the front. Hurriedly, Ernie rolled down his window and slowed down enough to shout, "Change of plan. Gotta go pick someone up."

"I'll follow you!" he said, and Ernie was about to say, "No, meet us later!" when he saw cars approaching ahead and behind. He nodded tersely and floored it and let their guest figure out how to do his own one-eighty. There was a sturdy shoulder on either side of the road. With any luck the Winnebago wouldn't bog down and end up stretched across the highway like a big barricade.

The ride toward Barstow continued in a tense silence until suddenly Sonny spoke up.

"Shit," he said.

"What?" Ernie's gift was working—it gave him a general sense of well-being and accomplishment, which meant that whatever was going to happen, his family would probably end up being safe. But it wasn't giving him any specifics, which it tended to do sometimes, particularly when… well, when Ace was involved. Perhaps it was because Ace tended to think on his feet. Sure, he could plan—and his plans could be detailed and specific and successful—but he could also pull a rabbit out of a hat if he needed to, and maybe that combination of intelligence, instinct, and volatility puzzled the forces of the universe on the whole. It was like karma decided "Yes, Aces are wild, and this particular Ace is too wild to track, so let's all just cross our fingers and hope, okay?" So far it had worked, mostly, for Ace and Sonny, and in fact it was probably the reason Ace had Sonny, because Sonny was volatile enough on his own to negate all the plans in the world. But Ace's ribs had only healed completely in the last month or so, and Ernie and the others were still raw from when Ace's decision to hold on to Sonny and hope for the best had nearly killed them both.

"If we're picking them up, that means your car's toast. And…." Sonny grunted. "Goddammit. Jai and Ace are too damned big to sit in the back seat."

Ernie grunted. "Well, maybe they'll ride with Mr. Christiansen and the cats," he said philosophically. It did seem like a particularly serendipitous placement of a large vehicle and two large men. Then, wistfully, "What do you suppose is going to happen to my car?" On the one hand, Ernie would love to get a big, dependable luxury SUV with the kind of air-conditioning system that would leave frost on his eyebrows in 120-degree heat, but on the other? Being dead was nice. Nobody official knew—or cared—about his skinny psychic ass, and he'd never had so much freedom or so much family in his life. He'd settle for the beater-mobiles (although Ace and Sonny always made sure they had at least some air-conditioning because they loved Ernie and they lived in the middle of the fucking desert.)

"I'm not sure," Sonny said in response to the question. "But I've got a 2015 Kia Sportage all ready for you. All it needs is a trip to the Maaco guys in Bakersfield. Maybe you can even pick a color this time."

Ernie smiled happily. "Aww—that's sweet. Thanks, Sonny."

"Well, sorry about the Impala," Sonny said soberly. "It was a good friend."

Ernie had never been particularly sentimental about automobiles, but he was always fascinated when Sonny showed his softer side. Everybody in their little group needed reminding that underneath the borderline personality and the potential for explosion, there beat the heart of a kid who was probably younger than Ernie and whom life had left far more damaged. Sonny had earned the right to anthropomorphize a beat-up Chevy Impala, because odds were good he'd never had a teddy bear or favorite Matchbox car, and every boy should have a teddy bear or favorite toy.

"I'm sure it'll die a good death," Ernie said in comfort, and Sonny nodded happily. Ernie had once had a conversation with George—and then George's friend Amal—in which they'd realized they were the only people in their little group really conversant with pop culture in any capacity. George and Amal knew about Star Trek and Star Wars and sitcoms and such. It was too bad, Ernie thought now. He felt like Sonny deserved to know about Klingons, and how they lived their life by a code, because sometimes he thought Sonny would be more comfortable as a Klingon than as an auto mechanic making his living in the desert.

At that moment, Ernie saw lights in his rearview. He didn't hear the siren yet, but the cop's SUV had already passed Christiansen, Ernie assumed, because he was flying . Ernie waited until the car was a good fifteen lengths behind him before slowing and moving to the road shoulder, allowing the vehicle to soar right by.

"Why'd we do that?" Sonny asked. "He could've passed."

Ernie grunted. "Because if I'm right, I've kept my license plate out of the camera range. I have a feeling that's a good thing. Now text Ace and say we saw his boy."

" I'm his boy," Sonny growled. "We just saw an asshole who's gonna get his payback."

"Sure," Ernie told him. "But say it so it can't be held against you in a court of law."

Sonny chuckled. "That I can do."

Ernie kept going—slower than the SUV but still going seventy. He was not surprised when the phone buzzed and Sonny read aloud, "Don't work to catch up with him. Maybe stop and get a soda if you pass a gas station."

Ernie grunted. "Where in the hell does he think we're going to find a gas station?"

Sonny chuckled. "We'll just slow down and leave it at that."

Ernie shook his head and drove on.

"THEY ARE on their way," Jai said decisively, and Ace grunted.

"Did you tell them to hold back?"

"Da."

"Did you tell them to avoid the cop car like the plague?"

"Da."

"Did you tell them to—"

"Neither of these men are stupid," Jai told him gently. "Have faith."

"I am going to do a very dangerous thing," Ace told him. "I am not excited about myself as it is, but this—my potential to hurt somebody just standing by is huge , and if it's somebody I care about…. Who are you calling?"

"Burton," Jai said.

" Burton ?" Ace's hands grew clammy on the wheel. "We were supposed to keep him out of this!"

"Ernie thinks he's on a helicopter, headed this way. Oh, hold—"

Ace suppressed the urge to scream, which meant that he was not okay with all the things he'd done today, which made what they were doing now even more important.

"Lee," Jai said succinctly, which was like code that meant "I am not talking to the military lieutenant, I am talking to our friend."

"What's doing?" Burton said tersely over the speaker. "Jason and I are following Sonny and Ernie in a helicopter , mind you, and watching a big RV follow them in turn. I don't know what the deal is, but Ernie had one of his feelings about a cold fish—"

Oh. That. "He said it'd be fine," Ace said. "Cotton's on his way home. Can Jason hear us?"

"Yes, Ace, because otherwise you wouldn't be hearing me over a Black Hawk's rotor wash. What's up?"

"Nothing. Go away," Ace said, feeling proud of himself.

"Ace is going to kill a man who needs killing," Jai said, and Ace scowled, but he didn't take his eyes off the road. "He would like to not kill anybody else. We need a clear shot."

"You're fired," Ace said succinctly.

Jai gave him a brilliant, disturbing smile. "I will work for free," he said. "George makes very good money, and I am practically a kept man."

"Bad man?" Burton said uncertainly from the phone, and Ace pictured the blood pooling from the brachial artery, the pictures of naked children whimpering on the bed, the atrocities he wished he could scourge from his brain after two seconds of sick comprehension.

The flabby white nakedness of a man who counseled children.

"A very bad man," Ace said darkly, hoping he could manage to not vomit. "I…. Don't make me tell you what I've seen," he finished at last, his voice bleak.

"What do you need from us?" Jason Constance said, and Ace had a fleeting thought for sound systems and their genius.

"We are just south of Barstow," Ace said, "heading east toward Vegas. I'm not seeing a lot of cars out here. There should be a police vehicle traveling with lights and siren, going about a hundred miles per hour, maybe about twenty miles from us. That's our bad guy. I'm turning Ernie's car into a missile and T-boning him from across the road at a steep angle. Do I have an opening to do that, or do I have to find another way?"

There was a silence while Burton and Jason digested that, and then Ace heard Jason Constance on the radio while Burton barked orders at him .

"Step on it, Ace. We're setting up roadblocks five miles north of you and twenty miles south. You've got about two miles before you need to pull off and set up or he'll blow right by you. Jason and I will be your exfil—"

"Ernie's on his way," Ace said. "Make sure you let him and the guy behind him through."

"The guy behind him?" Burton asked in surprise.

"Yeah, we were supposed to meet him about something. I don't know, Lee, I've been a little busy!"

"What's the guy behind him driving?" Burton asked suspiciously.

Ace had been aware of the text streams, even if he'd had his hands on the wheel, so to speak. "A Winnebago with two kittens. I mean, the kittens are on the inside." He paused. "Sonny said they're cute."

There was silence on the other end. "And Ernie cleared this Winnebago?" Burton asked, sounding dubious and surprised and a little bit scared all at the same time.

"Da," Jai said. "We are supposed to meet with the man inside. Ernie says he needs sanctuary."

Ace hadn't heard this. "Sanctuary?" he asked.

He could actually feel Jai's shrug rocking the little car. "I suggested he use the hookups for the house that is mostly finished," Jai said.

"Guys," Burton said, sounding shocked. "This guy is bad news. He could be a professional killer , do you understand?"

Ace grunted. "Does that mean he'll take jobs us amateurs won't?" he asked. "Because I gotta tell you, I would win a whole lotta races if it meant I could not have to live today all over again."

"Last time I checked," Jai said, "some of us were professionals. Did I get that wrong?"

"Did you not get paid?" Ace asked, because he was pretty sure Jai had made good money as an enforcer.

Jai shrugged. "Da, but there was no choice of targets." His next smile showed teeth again. "I like choices. They make life interesting."

"You two can shut up now," Burton grumbled.

"Please," Jason added. "And get ready to pull over. You've got a mile left. We'll spot you and tell you when."

Ace's stomach tightened, and he noted the area Burton and Jason indicated, ahead and off the road. He gunned the motor, pulled a one-eighty on the shoulder, and threw the car into neutral, pausing as the dust settled.

"Think we could put it on a jack, brick the gas pedal, and kick it over?" he asked.

"Da," Jai said. "I will jack the back end, but you need to position it better while I search for a brick."

Ace nodded tersely and set about drawing a perfect vector in his mind that would take the vehicle down the road and into the oncoming SUV's left quarter.

"He's going about a hundred," Ace said. "Think he'll see it coming?"

"Listen," Jai told him, "if this should fail, we have launched Ernie's shitty car into the desert and cleared the way for Burton to shoot a man from a helicopter and fly away. This way is better—no bullet, no Burton—but if we fail, we are not a one-man squad."

"I really wanted to do this by myself," Ace admitted fractiously. "A decision like this—"

"But," Jai said, as though Ace had meant to stop there, "a decision like this should not be made by one person. It should not be made by a thousand people either," he said, thinking about it. "There is no good way to make a decision like this. These were bad men, hurting children who could not fight back. They had power, and they were using it to continue doing bad things. And anybody who went up against them…." He shrugged. "It is a sign of faith that Burton trusts us to only do this to the very worst of men. This vector looks good. I lied. I shall jack up the vehicle, but you find a brick. We should hurry."

They barely made it. First they wiped the thing down with the bleach wipes and gathered the offending disguise and the dead man's phone and the fake registration that Burton had made for Ernie in case he ever got pulled over. The rest of the car was fairly clean. Ace found his "brick"—more like a boulder—to put on the gas pedal just as Jai got the back end of the car jacked. The changing kit came with a wedge for the front wheel, and Ace thanked all the gods for that, because otherwise he would have had to look for two boulders, and they would have missed their window.

First, Ace grabbed a bungee cord from the back and fixed the steering wheel to the seat. Unsatisfied, he broke off the windshield wipers and jammed them through the opening in the steering wheel and against the steering column and the windshield. If it wouldn't have left a festival of DNA, he would have used his own belt, because it was imperative the damned thing continue in a straight line.

Once Jai had the car jacked up, Ace turned it on again, using his core and touching the floor with his still-gloved fingertips as he leaned in and pressed the ignition button. He had to brace the steering wheel with one hand as he shifted the vehicle from Neutral to Drive, making sure he neither changed the direction nor accidentally put the damned thing in reverse. Then, just as they could barely make out the lights of the SUV over the horizon, Ace dropped the boulder on the gas pedal, watching as the RPMs shot to the red zone from the weight. He stepped back and shut the door carefully, then put one foot on the wedge before pulling out his phone.

"Burton, you nearby?"

"We see your Deputy Scumbag" came the reply. Burton and Jason had obviously been talking to Ernie while Jai and Ace had gotten busy. "He's coming fast, Ace. Get 'er done."

Ace glanced at Jai, who nodded, and then they both stared at the car while Ace's brain was doing the same thing it did when he drove fast. Vectors, acceleration, deceleration, margin for error, the time it would take to dump the car, the time it would take for the wheels to catch, the time—

" Now ! " he shouted, kicking the wedge out from in front of the tire. Behind him, Jai hit the back end of the vehicle with all of his weight, toppling it off the jack even as they both jumped out of the way.

The car took off, peeling out a little as the wheels caught, and kicked gravel back to where Jai had been standing. The car got traction and the fixes on the steering wheel held, and Ace watched its shallow vector as it continued almost like it was using the oncoming lane, but shallower, shallower, shallower….

The SUV tried to swerve at the last moment, but by then the car was too close and traveling too fast, the engine whining in protest at the merciless boulder on the gas.

The collision was brutal and spectacular, Ernie's sedan ramming the driver's door at the corner panel and then flipping over the hood of the SUV, spiraling out into the desert while the SUV collapsed on itself and its driver, the airbag cushioning the blow but not nearly enough.

The SUV swerved off the road, rolling again and again on the shoulder, coming to rest on a pile of tumbleweeds as the momentum of the collision finally waned.

Ace and Jai stared at the destruction in absolute awe, listening to the sudden silence as bits and pieces of both vehicles clattered to the ground after sailing as far as a hundred yards away.

"Holleee chit…." Ace breathed, his blood up with exhilaration watching a thing like that.

"You are a good friend," Jai said, his face alight with unholy glee. "Only the best of men would give me such a thing. I shall treasure this always."

Ace let out a horrified yelp of laughter, and then to both their surprise, they watched as the SUV caught fire.

"No…," Ace said, transfixed as the flames began to lick from the undercarriage to the door.

"Da!" Jai responded in absolute delight.

"All them shows say this shit never happens."

"Quick," Jai said. "Give me the evidence. The phone, the hat—give me."

Ace did, and Jai dashed as close to the pending inferno as he could reasonably get, weighted the hat down with a rock, and hurled it like a bolo through the shattered passenger window before dropping the well-bleached phone on the shoulder of the highway and hauling ass back to the other side of the road.

The explosion happened just as he arrived and turned around to look, the concussion knocking them both on their asses. They scrambled up, panting, and Ace managed a coherent thought in the middle of the whoosh of the holocaust.

"Good thinking," Ace said. "My DNA and shit should be toast, right?"

"Da. And this way they will find the phone and investigate. We shall cross our fingers. Police are slow, but many are not terrible. It would be good if things like this happened less often."

"I am saying," Ace grumbled, and then he swiped his hands through his sweaty hair and turned back the way the deputy's SUV had come. "See anything?" he asked hopefully as they both looked toward the horizon.

"Nyet," Jai said, but neither of them minded much. They continued striding away from the conflagration, and they were about two football-field lengths away when they heard popping noises and other explosions.

"Shit!" Ace muttered, turning toward the vehicle. He saw several more explosions, and he and Jai started to jog. They'd both forgotten about the lockbox of weapons that were often carried in the back of a cop shop, and damn if they weren't lucky those things hadn't gone up when they were closer.

They were continuing their jog, both of them grimacing when more munitions went off, when Ace's pocket rang.

"Can we let in rescue vehicles yet?" Burton asked.

"The shit in the back's still going off like the Fourth of July," Ace told him. "Give it another fifteen minutes. No reason to kill anyone besides the scumbag and the car."

Burton grunted. "Ace?"

"Yeah?"

"I would have loved to help more on this one."

"We were trying to keep you guys out of trouble," Ace complained. "You're real assassins. We're just vigilante bullshit."

Burton grunted. "They were bad men," he said at last. "You did a public service."

"Kids with chlamydia," Ace said bluntly. "These fuckers died too goddamned fast."

Far behind them now a burst of ammunition went off, distance reducing the sound to popcorn, and Ace brightened.

"But on the plus side, Jai and I did get to see an explosion," he said. "Wait until I tell Sonny that sometimes shit does go boom!"

Far off he heard the whap-whap-whap of the chopper blades, and Burton said, "Well shit—you're right. Keep walking, guys. As soon as the roadblocks ease up, your ride'll be on its way. Great explosion, though."

"Right? And Jai threw my disguise into the thick of it before it went. As long as Ernie gets through first, I think we might be okay."