"Lover At Last" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ward, J.R.)

The engine kicked back on, and the din reintensified. All good news. The trouble was, if the bastardтАЩd gone out once, it was going to go out again.

Qhuinn shoved his hand into his jacket. As he snagged his cell phone, he thought of everyone they were both leaving behindтАФand he passed the thing to the Brother.

If there was a hierarchy in the reach-out-and-touch order, Z was at the top of the list. He had a shellan and a daughterтАФand if anyone was going to make a call, it was him.

тАЬWhatтАЩs this for?тАЭ Zsadist said darkly.

тАЬYou can figure it out.тАЭ

тАЬAnd you can leaveтАФтАЭ

тАЬNot leavingтАФgotta fly this deathtrap until we hit something.тАЭ

There was some further arguing at that point, but he wasnтАЩt moving from the driverтАЩs seat, and as strong as the Brother was under normal circumstances, Z wasnтАЩt in any condition to muscle around so much as a loaf of bread. And the convo didnтАЩt last long. After the talk dried up, Z disappeared, no doubt ducking back into the rear so he could make that last contact with those he loved.

Smart move.

Left to his own devices, Qhuinn closed his eyes and threw a prayer up to anyone who might hear the thing. And then he pictured BlayтАЩs faceтАФ

тАЬHere.тАЭ

He flipped open his lids. His cell phone was right in front of his face, held in place by ZтАЩs sturdy grip. And the GPS map was up and rolling, the little blinking arrow showing him exactly where they were.

тАЬAnother three miles,тАЭ the Brother yelled over the roaring noise. тАЬThatтАЩs all we needтАФтАЭ

There was a boom and a fizzleтАФand then another round of that god-awful quiet. Cursing, Qhuinn focused hard on the little screen all the while hoping things would restart on their own. More north, obviouslyтАФbut farther east. A lot farther. His guesstimate had been good, but hardly spot-on.

Without the phone? TheyтАЩd be fucked.

Well, that and the whole no-engine thing.

Checking the precise location, he made some calculations in his head, and steered them to the right, trying to get that pointed indicator on the map heading exactly to their mountain. Then it was time to try to jump-start the engine again.

They were losing altitude. Not in that movie-spiral way, where there was a close-up on the altimeter and the thing was spinning fast as you wished the propeller was. But slowly, inexorably they were drifting downтАжand if they lost enough forward momentum, which was what that unreliable sewing machine under the hood was supposed to provide, they were going to drop out of the sky like a stone.

Working the ignition over and over again, he muttered, тАЬCome on, come on, come onтАж.тАЭ

It was hard to keep the nose up with only one handтАФand just as he was going to have to devote all of his attention to fighting with the steering wheel, ZтАЩs arm shot forward, kicked his hand out of the way, and took over trying to restart the engine.

For a split second, Qhuinn had an absurdly clear snapshot of the slave band peeking out from the cuff of the BrotherтАЩs leather jacketтАФand then it was all business.

God, his shoulders were on fire from pulling back on the wheel shaft.

And to think he was dying to hear that racket from theтАФ

All at once, the engine coughed back to life, and the change in their altitude was immediate. The instant those spark plugs and pistons started roaring again, the numbers began going up.

Keeping the throttle fully engaged, he checked the fuel gauge. On E. Maybe they were just out of gas, and it wasnтАЩt a mechanical issue?