Down Jersey Drive-Shaft_Welcome to Dieselpunk by William J. Jackson

Author:William J. Jackson [Jackson, William J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781981162550
Amazon: 1981162550
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2018-03-13T00:00:00+00:00

"È cosa testarda!" The wrench reverberates along the concrete floor before scraping to a stop at the wheel of a tool chest. Crank rolls her head, cracking her neck. She looks up to the blinding yellow lights along the ceiling, bends backwards. Stressful times are making even the fine art of auto body mechanics a pain in her you-know-what. So much for relaxation. "You stripped the bolts?"

"Don't start with me, Crank." Larry's mood isn't much better.

"Well who did then?"

"Who cares? We got precious little time to whine, doll. We'll get 'em off so you can shove whatever you please into your pretty little car." He skips over to swipe the wrench and give the bolts some manly persuasion. "Just needs a man's touch. Firm. Sound. In the right spot."

Bang. He connects and knocks one out, then another. In between turns Larry can hear the mashing brakes sound of Crank's grinding teeth. Bang. Bang. Done.

He lets loose the arrogant smirk. "There ya go, sugar. Uncle Larry always comes through."

The wrench is ripped from his hand. "Thank you, brutto anatra. I can't do anything without a man, right? Now install the HVAR launcher, and you better not strip the bolts or blow us up!"

"Hey, hey! Don't go gettin' sore on me cuz all the wrong guys want ya but the right one don't. An' anatra's a compliment, right? Right? Crank?"

Frederica is gone, fists propelling her ahead, moving past the stairwell on to, somewhere, but she's sidetracked.

"Crank."

Benny. His baritone growl titillates as much as frustrates. Her shoulders hunch. Her protector, so wonderful and so terrifying. She wants to sock him and surrender to him and shoot him and lick his face and...

"Yes?" She deadpans as best she can. Benny is at the top of the stairs, a bulky shadow of tension.

"Got a telephone call. From the Chief. Think we oughtta talk about it since we have the rank and all."

"Talk to Corporal Wilkes. I'm busy and mad at you for almost killing a--nevermind."

"Wilkes isn't actually in ST. Technically. He can be told next. But right now, I need you."

Dio mio! Why did he have to say 'need'? She forgets a breath. "I have a lot to do with my baby, so--"

"Now, Mechanic." The order is given, blunt, talking down. Benny returns to the office.

Pitter-patter breaths twirl into serpentine puffs. Now? Now! I've got your ‘now’, you brute!

Crank kicks every step with her shiny black stompers. She gets into the office and gives the door a solid slam shut. Benny has his back to her, leaning over the desk. Crank sucks in a round of air, loads it into the chamber...

"Listen, vecchio, maybe you think rank is gonna make you like every other man, all sassy and big time. But no!" She's waving her index finger at his oblivious back, going all out. "I didn't drag you from your house to here so you could talk down to me! And what you did to Johnathan is--!"

"Unforgivable?" He turns to face her. The weight of shadows and the day blot out his face.

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