Johnis’s feet slid on the flat concrete as he spun through his turn. Then he was pelting for her, arms pumping like batons.

The Chevy chirped like a bird, and Silvie jumped.

“Mount it!” Johnis cried. “Inside, get inside!”

Silvie jerked the lever that operated the door, flung the contraption wide, and piled in. The car had unlocked on its own?

Ray rushed from the station, bearing what appeared to be a long stick. A shotgun. If the weapon in his arm was responsible for the shattering glass, they were in trouble. Her knives were worthless in such a tiny space!

She nearly dove back out, but Johnis was there, jerking his door open. “He won’t harm the Chevy!” he screamed. “You can’t put a scratch on the car, can you, Ray?”

The shopkeeper used the shotgun again. Twin blasts of fire belched into the air, chased by a thundering volley. But he’d held the weapon high.

“Don’t touch it!” he roared. “I’ll fill your backsides so full of lead you won’t be able to stand straight.”

Johnis dove in and slammed the door shut. He fumbled with a small metal object, searched for the hole that Ray had pointed out earlier as being the ignition.

“I ran into some trouble,” he panted.

“Really? And it doesn’t look to be over.”

“He won’t hurt the car.”

“He’s coming . . .”

The man was storming toward them, shotgun cradled in his arm.

“He’s coming, Johnis!”

Johnis wasn’t having luck with the key, so he pulled it back and pushed at several small buttons on a black knob attached to the device’s metal portion.

The car suddenly chirped again and the locks clacked shut.

Johnis looked at her, unable to hide his smirk. “Fantastic . . .”

A hand slammed on his window. “Out!” the tattooed man thundered. “Get out before I blast this door open!”

“He can’t! He won’t!” Johnis ignored the man and went back to work on the key, this time with more deliberate concentration.

Ray was cursing bitterly, but Johnis was right; he couldn’t risk damaging the car. They were safe in this cocoon—for the moment. But they would face even greater danger when an overzealous Johnis got the contraption moving.

“This doesn’t look good, Johnis!”

“He’s a stubborn thug!”

“What were you thinking?”

The man stood outside the car, voice muted, message clear.

“You’re dead meat! You can either get out now, and I might send you off with a good kick in the behind. Or you can make me go back in for the other set of keys, but if I do that, I’m going to take it out on you. You hear me?” He slammed his palm against the window to drive his point home.

Silvie felt like a small child cowering under a monster. “He’s got another set of keys?”