David shook his head. Hank leaned over and spoke into his ear. “This here’s an older model, but she’s dependable. One of the best they ever made. You got a throttle and a brake, here and here.” He pointed them out, twisting and squeezing each in turn. “It’s like a bike. You turn the handlebars to steer, and when you do, watch out ‘cause she’ll want to go over. Just follow my lead.” He straddled the long black seat, and started the engine with a yank on the cord. “Didn’t have electric start when this baby was made!”

The engine coughed and roared to life, sputtering for a few moments until Hank pushed in the choke located in the center of the console. “She’ll hold both of us,” he shouted. “Stay put, I got to get some things from the Jeep!”

He returned a moment later with a couple of flashlights, neck warmers and two firearms. He handed one of the guns to David. It felt heavy and smelled of oil.

“What is it?”

“That there is a genuine .357 Magnum revolver. It’ll blow a hole right through a brick wall. Be careful, it’s loaded.”

David felt as if he were holding a rattler. What do I know about guns?

Christ, you’ve seen Dirty Harry, now stop whining and get moving!

He nodded at Hank and took one of the neck warmers. It was made of thick, fuzzy wool.

“My wife made that,” Hank shouted. “It’ll itch the hell out of your face, but you’ll be glad you got it when we get crankin’!”

David slipped it down over his head. It fit nicely, covering his face up to his eyes. When he pulled his hat down, only a thin slit of flesh was exposed. He looked over at the machine, where Hank was sitting, nursing the controls.

“Okay,” he said, voice muffled by the thick wool. “Let’s go.” He didn’t know if the man heard him, but he climbed on behind.

“Hold on,” Hank yelled, turning back to him. “It’s gonna be a hell of a rough ride!”

As the throttle revved and the heavy track caught the new snow, he thought he heard something above the noise of the wind—a thin, high-pitched scream.

Then they were moving, and he forgot about everything but the ride.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Jessica was in the bad place.