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You’re the only one who made it. Impressive. Sergeant Leonard’s expression darkened. But for how long?
“You go to hell!” Jericho screeched at the empty seat.
“Who’s he talking to?” Babe whispered.
Everyone was looking at him. Lupe was looking at him. He wanted to tell her to run as far away from him as she could get. He wanted her to hold him close and promise everything would be all right. Jericho’s fingers twitched. Make a fist, he thought. He was too afraid.
“Jericho, what’s the matter with you?” Ling.
“Why you keep calling him Jericho?” Doc demanded.
“It’s his middle name,” Lupe said.
Jericho’s heart beat strangely. What’s the matter what’s the matter what’s the matter with me?
“There’s more coming!” Alma yelled, panicked.
“Jericho. Please,” Ling said.
With a growl, Jericho pushed himself out of the seat, bending it slightly as he did. “Open the door, Doc,” he said.
“Don’t go out there,” Lupe begged. Jericho looked at the dead gathering in the road like a flock of predator birds. He imagined them coming for her and the rest of the Haymakers.
“Doc. Open the door or I’ll tear it off,” Jericho said.
Doc opened the door.
Jericho helped Ling down. The two of them stood in front of the bus, facing the dead of Beckettsville. “We could still fix the engine and run,” he said.
“We have to eliminate the threat,” she said.
“What if it doesn’t work?”
“We can’t think about that.” Ling reached out. Jericho accepted her hand. “Now!” Ling said. She squeezed Jericho’s hand tightly, thinking only of destroying every last ghost in Beckettsville. She could feel the first inklings of their gifts coming together, signals seeking each other. Out of the corner of her eye, Ling saw Will Fitzgerald up on the hill, barely a glimmer, his eyes wide and his mouth open, his splayed hand reaching toward the two Diviners as their bodies jerked with the strength of their joining. Ling and Jericho weaponized their power, sending it toward the line of dead in the road. The dead shut their eyes. They smiled, as if welcoming the destruction. And then their atoms blasted apart, knocking Jericho and Ling backward.
Ling grimaced as she hit the ground. The usual high that accompanied a “kill” was absent, and in its place was nausea and the taste of blood in the back of her mouth. The storm clouds had cleared. Ash swirled in the air like gray snow.
Behind them, the bus roared to life. “Get on this bus now!” Doc shouted.
The bus doors flew open and Alma rushed to Ling’s side, helping her up, half carrying her onto the bus. “Jericho! Get her crutches!”
Jericho staggered to his feet. Across the street, Sergeant Leonard stood with his hands in his pockets, his expression grim. That’s how they get you, kid. It’s a slippery slope.
Jericho grabbed Ling’s crutches and limped onto the bus.
“I don’t know what you did, but it feels like this baby’s running on pure electricity,” Doc said appreciatively. He gunned the motor and swung into reverse and finally they were speeding away from the town of Beckettsville. In their seats, the girls clutched one another, eyes wide.
Jericho stared at his shaking hands. And then Lupe was beside him, her hands covering his till they quieted.
“I’m guessing you’re some of those Diviners they’re looking for,” Doc said at last.
Ling nodded.
“Well, I’ll be.… You’re that same Diviner after all?” Babe said.
“Are you going to turn us in?” Ling asked.
“Nobody here will do that. Am I right?” Alma looked around the bus for confirmation and got it in nods and amens.
