Page 51 of Code Violation

“Just come up the drive and over,” Levi yelled to Silas.

They were silent while Silas maneuvered the truck to where they were waiting. Pulling to a stop, Silas popped open the door and jumped out. Without saying anything, he strode over to take in the smoldering wreckage of Forrest’s truck.

“Don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine,” Forrest snarked. “Not dead yet.”

“What happened?” Silas asked, turning to face them. He still appeared more worried about the Ford than the humans.

“Forrest says the brakes failed,” Levi answered.

“They did not.” Silas spun back around as if he was going to crawl under the truck and check the lines that minute.

“There is no way the brakes failed,” Silas insisted, getting down on his hands and knees to peer underneath the chassis.

“At least wait to check shit until the fire department gets here and makes sure the truck isn’t going to explode or something,” Forrest said. The action movie images still played in his head.

Standing up again, Silas crossed his arms over his chest and frowned, clearly unhappy that his work was being called into question.

“It couldn’t have been a brake failure. Absolutely not.”

Silas was a quiet guy. Forrest didn’t know much about him, but he did know that Silas was proud of his skills as a mechanic. He was good and he didn’t fuck up. If that weren’t the case, Forrest wouldn’t have trusted him with his baby in the first place. Most of the work he did himself too. Apparently, he’d hired a guy once and it hadn’t worked out. The guy had been gone in less than six weeks.

“Listen, Forrest, I mess up and this town will shut me down. My business would be bankrupt in months, if not weeks. No way was it mechanical error.”

He and Silas stared at each other. Forrest had to admit that Silas had a point. He’d managed to keep his garage open regardless of the economics of a small town. If people complained about his work, he would be done.

“My bad,” Forrest conceded. “Do you think you can figure out what happened? Maybe it was a faulty part.”

“Damn right I can figure it out,” Silas responded, still a tad surly. “I just need a few minutes underneath.”

“Please, wait until we get the all clear,” Levi said again. “I can’t deal with anyone getting hurt.”

“Fine,” Silas agreed, sullenly glaring at the Ford.

The fire truck finally arrived and there was a flurry of activity, including one of the responders checking out both Forrest’s and Nero’s head wounds and shining bright lights in their eyes while they sat on the truck’s bumper.

“I always recommend a trip to the ER in these situations,” the guy informed them both. He looked familiar but Forrest didn’t think they knew each other.

“I’m fine,” Nero insisted. “I just have a bit of a headache.”

“Ditto,” added Forrest. “Not seeing double or anything.”

“Ultimately, it’s up to you two, but I’m still making a note on my book that I recommended you see a doctor,” the EMT said as he gathered up his gear and snapped shut the lid to his first aid kit.

“Over and out,” Forrest retorted. “Still not going.”

“Me neither.”

The responder shook his head. “Fine, get off my truck.”

“Some bedside manner you have,” Nero commented.

“I only play a doctor on TV,” the guy said dryly.

Nero squinted at his chest, presumably reading his name tag. “T. Prosser. Nice to meet you. Thanks for the Band-Aids.”

“Anytime—but not anytime again soon.”

Silas was almost finished loading the truck onto the flatbed. When he was done, he hopped into the driver’s seat, giving Forrest a salute and the international sign for I’ll call you before slowly driving back to the road and turning toward town. The fire engine departed as well, leaving the three of them standing in Levi’s semi-destroyed field.

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