“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.”