“I know a place.”
Oh thank fuck.
Dane didn’t question him and folded the loose chain in his hand to avoid stepping on it as he followed Jag’s guidance, braving the roar and clatter that turned the world around them into a scene of chaos. Was this a tornado? He hadn’t seen any circular motion in the clouds, but fuck knew? The glasses didn’t help in this weather, increasingly blurring his vision, no matter how hard he tried to keep his head low.
While Dane watched the sky in anticipation of further problems, Jag’s gaze remained grounded as he walked down a narrowing path that ended with a wall of junk. But instead of attempting to climb it, Jag opened the door of a desolated car with a roof consumed by rust. Dane was about to protest that they wouldn’t find shelter in a place that already had small puddles on the floor, but instead of resting, Jag crawled over the front seats and opened the door on the other side as if this was just the start of a tunnel.
Dane didn’t question him, ready to ignore his instincts and follow Jag as long as he led them someplace stable and dry.
They emerged in a narrow pathway separating two ridges of junk, but as exposed as that made Dane feel, he ran after Jag, down a slope heading straight for an old truck tilted forward at a forty-five-degree angle because of the way its deflated back wheels rested on top of a wrecked car.
Jag approached the side of the long black box that made up most of the vehicle and tugged on a piece of string which, to Dane’s disbelief, pulled a rope ladder off the roof. Jag climbed all the way up at record-breaking speed, his back muscles flexing as if he were a wild cat caught up in the storm. But the moment of brainless admiration passed when Jag gestured for Dane to follow him. At this point, hesitating was pointless, so he pulled himself up the set of rungs, all the way to the drenched roof. The top of his head reached the top of the truck in time to see Jag pulling up a large wooden hatch.
“Go in,” Jag said and gestured at the opening in the roof. The edges of the hole had been covered with scraps of fabric, but Dane would have rolled over rusty metal at this point, just to escape the elements.
Jag shouted something, but Dane could barely hear him and slid in, landing on the truck’s floor with both feet. The impact suggested a height he wasn’t used to jumping from, but as he rolled over the sloped floor, the brief pain in his feet stopped. Only as he looked up at Jag hanging high up to close the hatch behind them did he realize that he could have climbed down yet another rope ladder.
It no longer mattered though.
They were both whole, and as soon as the hatch was shut, water stopped drizzling to the bare floor of the truck. It was pitch black in here, and the heavy rain drummed against the steel walls, making them vibrate, but despite the somewhat stale scent, the truck was a secure and dry shelter.
“Stay put,” Jag said as his steps echoed in the warm air.
Moments later, soft white light illuminated their surroundings, rendering Dane speechless. He’d expected a bare interior, maybe some trash left behind by the truck’s former owner, but dozens of shiny trinkets hung from the ceiling in the glow of a rectangular flashlight. Some had beads and feathers attached, while others contained pieces from computer motherboards and broken CDs.
At the bottom of the sloping floor, several blankets and pillows created a nest, and next to it was a box filled with candy, which enticed Dane as if he were no longer a thinking human, but an animal excited by the prospect of warmth and a full belly.
“I have a small radiator here, but the battery won’t last long,” Jag said, his face twisting in deep thought.
Dane frowned, suddenly aware of how wet and cold he was. “What about spare clothes?” he asked, already peeling off his trainers.
Jag nodded and carefully slid down to the ‘nest’. “I have lots of spare sweaters and such things here.” He grabbed a large black trash bag filled to the brim with clothes and spilled its contents to the floor. “I… I’m sorry about all this discomfort. I will build an even bigger house for us,” he promised in a passionate whisper.
Dane stalled. “You are literally keeping me by force. My family must be worried sick. And you’re afraid I care about the shack collapsing?”
Jag clenched his fists with a scowl and kicked the metal wall. “Yes! I caught you, and I’m keeping you, so better forget your family!” The cruel words resonated in the half-empty truck. “There’s predators and there’s prey in life, so get used to it, unless you want to fight me.” Jag squinted, as if he were preparing for Dane’s attack.