Livewire

Chapter 20

Kyle's head was pounding as if someone was using his brain to play timpani. It was a headache which sat right behind his eyes. The lights of oncoming cars intensified the throbbing. Only pulling his eyes out of their sockets would offer the sweet relief he needed. Why did he drink so much? Hector was a bad influence.

Trudie sat silent beside him in Emilio's pickup. He was grateful for the quiet but he knew she was sitting there feeling smug. She didn't have to say it. Her face said I told you so. Another wave of pain shot through his eyes and died away once the car lights had passed. He winced each time it happened. For the hundredth time on the drive so far, he sighed and groaned. Why did he do it last night? Right before the one night he needed to be sober and fresh.

They left the freeway and headed into the mountains. Thankfully the roads were empty, giving his eyes a break from the repeated batterting. Now he had to concentrate hard on the narrow, winding roads. His reaction would be delayed so he took it steady. Once they reached the off road track that led to the warehouse he was crawling along. The truck rolled so smoothly over the humps and bumps that it felt more like a cruise across the bay.

He pulled to a stop next to the rest of the parked vehicles. With a tight grip on the wheel he sucked in several long, deep breaths with his mouth formed into a small 'O'.

Trudie held up a half-drunk bottle of water. "You'd better finish this off."

He nodded and took the bottle. It was an effort to unscrew the lid and hold it up to his lips but the cool wetness was a blessing. Each swig restored a little bit of his life force. He gasped once he had taken the last swig.

"Better? Shall we go in then?"

He breathed deep again. "Yeah, give us a second." His speech was laboured. He rested his fingers against his eyes and controlled his breathing. "Ok. Let's do this."

Every sound seemed enhanced to his sensitive ears. The slam of the pickup doors, the chirp of crickets, the hum of the warehouse lights. He blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the glare of the bulbs hanging from the roof in the domed pendants.

The flat bed lorry was parked up in front of the big double doors, obscuring their view of the rest of the warehouse. The others were gathered at the back of the lorry, already wearing their overalls. An unmarked, black van was next to the lorry and beside it two suzuki dirt bikes. He approved of the choice. These would be able to keep up with the train, no problem. The crew were huddled around a wooden crate. Their heads turned when Kye and Trudie approached the group. César stood bolt upright with his hands behind his back. He nodded to Kyle.

On the crate were the guns and walkie talkies. The two lengths of chain were coiled up next to the crate, with a screw shackle at each end. Leon held a ruggedised laptop under one arm and a small metal box with two antennas in his hand.

He nodded, mentally checking off all the equipment. It was all there apart from one glaring omission. Sickness welled in the pit of his stomach.

"Where's the crane?" He began panting. It was all pointless without the crane. "Where's the fucking crane?"

César held up his hand. "Calm down. It was not practical to bring a crane all the way out to the warehouse. I have secured one in Veracruz,at a construction site. You will have to collect it on your way and return it after."

He put a palm on his head. "Ok. Sorry, I'm just nervous."

"Naturally. A healthy amount of nerves is a good thing. You would be foolish not to be worried."

He nodded. "Leon, do you have everything you need to stop the train?"

Leon held up the little box. "It's all in-cab signalling."