Chapter 44: Before It Moves

Chapter 44: Before It Moves

The broken wheel had folded inward beneath the loaded trailer. Silas stopped beside the recovery transport and looked at the crates above it, wondering how much more movement the damaged corner could take.

Orrel was already crouching by the wheel. Dain brought him a lamp while the driver explained what had happened. Beyond them, marker posts followed the broad road around a bend. The maintained verge ended a few paces from the vehicles; brush grew thickly beyond it.

Silas had passed stretches like this on the way to Greybank. They had seemed less interesting through a window.

"Stay here until you’re called," Vennor told the students.

The escorts spread out while Orrel finished his inspection. He returned to the equipment with dust on one knee and selected a wheeled recovery dolly.

"We support the damaged corner on this," the mechanic said. "Then we free the hitch and tow the trailer out slowly. Nobody touches that connection until I’ve checked the load."

He pointed out the strained coupling between the trailer and its powered vehicle. Silas could see why he wanted it left alone.

Bram and Alden carried the wheel chocks. Mira passed Dain the dolly restraints, and Silas retrieved a retaining clip from the bottom of the equipment box. So far, he could do everything asked of him without lifting anything heavier than a tool.

Then an escort called, "Movement. North side."

Silas turned with the others.

A creature stood between two bushes, narrow head low beneath its shoulders. It was close enough for him to see its mouth open as it tasted the air. Another shape moved behind it.

"Stay with the vehicles," Vennor said.

One of the escorts advanced and fired. The report made Silas flinch. The leading creature jerked back into the brush, and the second followed.

He was still watching where they had gone when someone called from the other verge.

A third animal had come out on that side.

How many?

Silas tried to see past it. The stems and patches of shade revealed nothing he could trust.

Vennor reported their position through her communicator, then placed Alden on the protected side of the trailer to watch the gap between the vehicles. She sent Mira to keep the equipment route clear beside the recovery transport.

"Rooke, help Orrel," she said. "Come back here when he doesn’t need you."

He went at once. Having something specific to do was preferable to standing beside the road trying to count things that did not want to be seen.

Orrel checked the lifting support and began raising the damaged corner. Dain brought the dolly closer.

"Wait!" Bram called.

Dain stopped. Bram pointed beneath the cargo bed.

"That bottom crate’s moved off the stop. Look at the strap."

Silas followed his finger. One restraint was pulled tight while its neighbor sagged. The stack had begun to lean as the trailer lifted.

"Lower it," Orrel told Dain. "Slowly."

Bram fetched another strap. "We can take this around the row first."

"Show me," the mechanic said.

Bram explained where he wanted it. Orrel checked the arrangement, then had Alden help feed the restraint around the crates from the ground. Silas brought the unreachable end down to Bram with Remote Grasp.

"Got it," Bram said, pulling it through the buckle.

The strap tightened. Orrel inspected it himself, and Alden returned to his position near the cab.

A growl came from beyond the vehicle. Silas’s hold loosened before he remembered Bram already had the strap. He withdrew his Talent and wiped his damp palm on his trousers.

Dain and Bram got the dolly under the raised corner on the second attempt. Silas held a fastening clear until they secured it. This time the cargo stayed level. 𝑓𝑟ℯℴ𝓂

They were close to being able to leave. Silas kept glancing toward the coupling while Orrel checked the supports and tried the release pin.

It clicked and refused to rise.

Orrel tried a small adjustment, stopped, and leaned down to look.

"Latch is caught underneath."

"Side plate?" Dain asked.

Orrel nodded. "Leave the pin alone."

When the plate came off, Silas held the lamp toward the opening. A little lever sat crooked beneath the pin’s collar. There was hardly room for a tool beside it.

"How far does that need to move?" Silas asked.

Orrel looked up. "The latch?"

"Yes. The end underneath."

"Up and toward me. It’ll catch if you pull straight."

Silas crouched beside him. "Show me."

Orrel indicated the end with a probe. Silas found it with Remote Grasp and tested the resistance. It barely moved.

He could put more force through it. Then he noticed how close Orrel’s fingers were to the opening.

"Take your hand out first," Silas said.

The mechanic did. "Tell me when you’re ready."

Silas brought the lever upward, carefully, until it touched the collar.

"There," he said. "It’s caught again."

"Keep it there," Orrel said. "I’ll turn the pin back."

Another shot cracked nearby. Silas looked toward the sound, and metal tapped inside the housing.

Orrel stopped with his hand on the pin.

Silas turned back, his face hot. The mechanic waited until he had settled the latch into position again.

"Ready," Silas said.

The pin turned. Resistance vanished so abruptly that Silas nearly lifted too far. He caught the lever, held it clear, and waited for Orrel’s nod.

"Good," Orrel said. "Right there."

Silas braced an elbow on his knee. His weapon case pressed against his hip, within easy reach. He left it closed. Orrel needed the latch held steadily, and trying to watch the road at the same time had already cost him one mistake.

He could hear footsteps and short instructions from the escort. Each pause made him listen harder.

Please just stay over there.

Orrel called for everyone to keep clear of the gap between the vehicles. Dain checked the secondary restraint and raised a hand. Vennor stepped into view on their exposed side, her attention on the brush.

Something scraped hard against metal beyond the cab. Silas tightened his jaw and kept looking into the housing. The lamp lit the lever and the edge of Orrel’s thumb. He watched those until an escort shouted and the scraping stopped.

Orrel began lifting the pin.

For a moment it moved freely. Then it stuck again, halfway out.

Silas stared at it.

"Oh, come on."

"Burr on the edge," Orrel said. He shifted his grip. "Lower the latch a little while I turn. Too far and it’ll lock again."

"How little?" Silas asked.

"I’ll tell you," Orrel said. "Slowly."

Silas eased it down. The position was awkward to hold now, and he could feel his control beginning to tremble. He wanted Orrel to hurry. He wanted him to take as long as he needed to avoid jamming the damn thing again.

"A little more," the mechanic said.

The pin began to move.

From the other side of the vehicle, Vennor shouted, "Alden, hold your position!"

Silas almost turned. Orrel’s hand was still on the pin, and the latch would drop if he lost it now. He kept his eyes on the opening, unable to see what had reached Alden.

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