MARCUS DIDN’T SLOW DOWN AS HE HIT THE RAMP LEADING UP FROM THE GARAGE AND BURST THROUGH THE MECHANICAL ARM BLOCKING HIS WAY TO THE STREET. Officers inside the small security booth ran out but could do little to stop him. Ackerman followed close behind his bumper in their grandfather’s borrowed truck.
On the drive from the hospital, Marcus had seen a large vacant lot a few blocks away. His plan was simple. Get the bomb to a place where it hopefully wouldn’t hurt anyone. The problem was that, if his father had come to the same conclusions as the SWAT team’s bomb expert, then there were two other trucks loaded with explosives that could also go off at any moment.
He pressed the gas pedal all the way to the floor as he called Maggie and yelled out his plan. She screamed back something about him being out of his mind, but his attention was on the road as he swerved in and out of traffic.
The turn into the lot was blocked off with a chain-link fence, but he simply closed his eyes and slammed into the obstruction at full speed. It buckled and clanged off the front of the van, metal scraping and glass cracking.
The van bounced and jostled over the weeds and uneven terrain of the lot. He aimed for the center of the open space and skidded to a halt.
Marcus was about to step out and go back with Ackerman in the truck to retrieve the next explosive-filled vehicle when he heard a whirring and pumping sound emanating from the machinery in the back of the van.
His eyes went wide, and his aching and malnourished muscles nearly froze up.
Ackerman pulled the truck up beside the van’s driver door, and Marcus didn’t even bother to get into the cab with his brother. He simply vaulted over the side and into the truck bed, pounding on the rear glass and screaming, “Drive!”
The truck peeled away, and Marcus quickly dialed Maggie. As soon as the call connected, he yelled, “Get out of there now!”
The words had barely left his mouth when the van exploded into a brilliant ball of flame. The heat wave rushed over his body, licking at his exposed skin and scorching his hair. The pressure pounded inside his skull, and flaming debris struck the sides of the truck. The air was like hellfire, filled with the smells of a million molecules of different substances combusting at once.
Ackerman kept the truck barreling forward until Marcus felt the intensity of the heat recede. His relief at being alive was short-lived as he realized that the two other bombs had just gone off directly beneath Maggie’s feet.