So he would head into the town of Garrett, a much shorter trek. And then he would find his way to the harbor. Derek would be heading there now in the boat he’d rented. Once they had rendezvoused, they’d head back to shore.
He just hoped Derek would be on time. He had to—
What the hell?
There was an explosion. One of the Arrivals taking aim at the fire truck must have hit a gas tank. A battery-powered Arrival didn’t have one, but the truck would have a substantial tank tucked into its undercarriage.
“Fuck me,” Kyle whispered.
The fire truck was on fire.
Fifteen
When Chief Joe Bridgeman had finished filling in the coast guard about the possibility that a man named Clyde Travers had fallen off the ferry en route to Garrett Island, he started walking back toward his specially outfitted Arrival.
He was about to ask Sherlock to open the door when his phone, barely back in his pocket for a minute, rang again.
“Yup?” he said, taking the call while walking.
“Chief?” It was Ronny Dyson, who was on the dispatch desk that morning.
“Yeah, it’s me, Ronny.” Joe sighed. Ronny had dialed the chief, the chief had answered, but Ronny still had to ask if it was him.
“Where are you?” Ronny asked.
“Ferry dock.”
“Right, that guy that didn’t get off?”
“What’s up, Ronny?”
“There’s some crazy shit going down at that Arrival event at the community center.”
Joe stopped walking. “What kind of shit?”
“Well, kinda everything. Some lady’s leg got cut off and now they’re saying—”
“Wait! What lady? Whose leg got cut off?”
“Uh, I’m not sure. She was showing how the car worked and the door slammed shut on it or something.”
“Was it Sandra?”
“Who?”
“Sandra Montrose!”
“That the lady you’ve been seein’?”
Christ, it was hard to keep a secret on the island.
“Was it her, Ronny?”
“Don’t think so. Sounded like someone important. I mean, not that she isn’t, but it was someone who’d come over for the day, the head of the company, I think, and—”
“Never mind,” Joe said. He’d put Ronny, who was, as they say, untroubled by intelligence, on dispatch because Joe believed he could do less damage there than being out on the street. Now, he wasn’t so sure. “Tell me the rest of it.”
“So you know Duff McLaughlin?”
“Yeah, I know Duff. Works for the fire department.”
“That’s right. Well, they say he’s dead.”
“Jesus Christ,” Joe said. “What happened?”
“He got hit.”
“Hit?”
“Yeah.”
“Hit by what?”
It was like pulling fucking teeth.
“One of the little funny cars. Rammed him, right up against the fire engine.”
“How the fuck did that happen?”
“Not sure. But now Truck Five is on fire.”
“The fire engine is on fire?”
“Right. That’s what you call ironic, right?”
“Who’s out there?” Joe asked.
“Okay, so Alice and Rick were on their way but they ran into a problem. And from what I hear, the ambulance can’t get near the scene.”
“Why the hell is that?”
“’Cause they’re surrounded.”
“Ronny, I swear, just spell it out for me. Who’s surrounding them?”
“The cars.” Ronny paused. “What I’m hearing is, the cars are kinda losing it. Goin’ all whackadoo. They’re not going to get a very good rating in Consumer Reports after this.”
“I’m on my way,” the chief said, ending the call and slipping the phone back into his pocket. “Sherlock, open!”
While he waited for the car’s door to retract, he entered another number on his phone. “Come on, come on,” he said. “Answer the fucking phone, Sandra.”
After the fifth ring, his call was directed to voice mail. “Sandra, it’s Joe. Call me! I just heard things have gone crazy at the center! I’m heading your way. Let me know you’re okay!”
He ended the call and then looked at the car, dumbfounded. The door had not opened.
“Uh, Sherlock, open up.”
The chief’s Arrival did not respond.
“Come on! Open up!” He slapped his palm on the glass three times. “Let’s go! Wakey wakey!”
He heard the nearly inaudible whirring noise of the Arrival’s electric engine powering up.
“That’s promising,” Joe said. “Now would you kindly open the fucking door?”
The Arrival’s wheels began to turn.
“What the hell?” Joe said, taking a step back so that the rear tire wouldn’t run over his foot.
The Arrival picked up the pace, made a graceful half circle, and pulled onto the road that led back to the town of Garrett.
“Where the hell are you going?” Joe shouted at the car. “Get your ass back here!”
The Arrival paid no heed. It continued on down the road and disappeared behind a copse of trees as it went around a curve.
Joe stood there with his mouth hanging open. He glanced around, looking for an alternative set of wheels, seeing nothing but a rusting bicycle leaning up against the ferry master’s shed.
He got out his phone again and waited for Ronny to pick up.
“Hello?”
“Ronny, it’s me.”
“That you, Chief?”
“Yes!”
“I’m gettin’ a lot of calls and really need to keep the line clear.”
“I need you to get someone to pick me up here at the ferry.”
“Yeah, well, not sure how I would go about that.”
“Why?”
“Okay, I guess, when we were talking before, I forgot to mention something. You know when I said Alice and Rick were on their way to the community center?”
“Yeah?”
“So, their cars just kind of went off without them. Like they had minds of their own. Can you believe it?”
Joe started grinding his teeth together. “There must be a regular car on the fucking island somewhere.”
“Only that one that’s in the shop,” Ronny said. “So I don’t know how—”
Joe ended the call and stole the bike.
Sixteen
Now that Gracie had run off with her phone, as well as her purse and everything in it, Sandra had no immediate way to call Katie and Archie to let them know, if they didn’t already, that something was very, very wrong.
It hadn’t taken her long to surmise that if all the Arrivals at the event had gone nuts, then every Arrival on the island might have lost its mind, too. Which meant her kids could be in jeopardy. She was only slightly comforted by the fact that she had left Katie in charge, and that she and Archie were, in all likelihood, perfectly safe at home.
Still...
She had to warn them to stay off the streets until the Arrivals were brought back under control. Katie and Archie were her number one priority.
“Not again,” she said to herself. “I’m not losing anyone else.”
The fire truck down by the road was in flames and its crew had run into the woods for cover, unable to do anything, at least for now, for their coworker pinned to the side of the truck. Sandra could tell, even at a distance, that the man was beyond saving.
Things were no better with the ambulance. One paramedic had run into the woods, and the other was trapped inside the vehicle. She had the window down and was yelling at the Arrivals surrounding the vehicle as if they were a pack of dogs.