The Book of Fate

60

Nico, maybe we should stop.

“There’s no need.”

But if you don’t rest—

“I’ve been resting for eight years, Edmund. This is the calling,” Nico said, sitting so far forward in the driver’s seat, his chest nuzzled the steering wheel of the giant flatbed. Just behind him in his seat was the balled-up army jacket he’d stolen from the Irish Pub. With Florida’s noon sun burning overhead, winter seemed long gone. He didn’t need the jacket. Or Edmund’s blood, which soaked the front of it.

You’re telling me you’re not tired?

Nico glanced over at Edmund’s lifeless body drooping in the seat next to him. His friend knew him all too well.

You’ve been driving nearly ten hours, Nico. It’s okay to take a break — in fact, it’s necessary, son. Especially if we plan on staying out of sight.

Nico knew what he was getting at. “So you still think—?”

Nico, I don’t care how cautious a driver you are — you take a forty-ton flatbed through the dainty streets of downtown Palm Beach, someone’s gonna bat an eye.

Staring at the wooden rosary beads swaying from the rearview, Nico knew Edmund was right. They’d been lucky so far, but if a cop pulled them over… if they were taken into custody… No, after all this, the cause was too great. And when they were this close… to Wes… to Boyle… to completing God’s will and delivering the redemption for his mother… No, this was no time for risk.

“Tell me what you think is best,” he said, looking to Edmund.

Hard as it is to say, we need to dump the truck and get something that’s a bit less noticeable in traffic.

“That’s fine, but how do we do that?”

How do we do anything, Nico? As the truck hit a divot in the road, Edmund’s head jerked up and back, crashing into the headrest and revealing the bubbling black and red gash across his neck. You look outside your window and search for the opportunity.

Following Edmund’s gaze through the front windshield, Nico searched the blacktop of highway, eventually spotting what his friend was staring at in the distance. The moment he saw it, a broad smile lifted his cheeks.

“You think we should—?”

Of course, we should, Nico. Heed the Book. Why else would God put them there?

Nodding to himself, Nico hit the brakes, and the truck rumbled and shuddered, eventually screeching to a stop right behind a maroon Pontiac on the shoulder of the highway. On the passenger side of the car, a woman with cropped black hair watched as her tank-topped boyfriend fought to change the flat tire on their car.

“You guys need some help?” Nico asked as he hopped out of the cab.

“You from Triple A?” the woman asked.

“No. It just looked like you needed an assist, so we thought we’d pitch in.”

“I actually think I’m done,” the boyfriend said, tightening the last lug nut.

“Wow, a real Good Samaritan,” the woman teased.

“Funny,” Nico replied, stepping into the woman’s personal space. “Though I much prefer the term guardian angel.”

The woman stepped back. But not nearly fast enough.