Chapter 4

The mechanic circled the Canyon warily. Feeling was only just starting to return to his hands, yet the girl had been untouched by the discharge.

Another oddity presented itself to him as he was crossing in front of the midnight blue truck. In the grill, just under the GMC insignia, a midnight blue light raced back and forth.

He finished circumnavigating the truck and grabbed a pair of thick welding gloves from a nearby workbench. He pulled one on, and pulled on the door handle.

The door didn't open.

Next, he grabbed a jimmy bar, and inserted it between the window and the seal. He pushed it all the way down. Then he began to pull up, wiggling it around until he felt it catch on the lock mechanism.

Giving a gentle tug, he expected it to pop the lock open. It didn't budge. He pulled harder. Still nothing.

Putting all his strength behind his next tug, he suddenly found himself sitting on his back side on the floor, the bar –the end broken cleanly off – was still in his hands.

Throwing the broken bar down in disgust, the mechanic got to his feet.

Walking to a nearby wall, he selected a good sized crowbar.

Turning back toward the truck, he saw that the driver side door was standing open.

He was nearly to the door, when it closed with a resounding thud.

"What the hell!"

The mechanic could have sworn he heard a faint chuckling coming from the truck. "Who's in there?" he said in alarm. "You might as well come out now!"

Closing the distance to the truck, the mechanic looked through both the front and back windows. He could see that both the front and back seats were empty. Extremely uneasy by what that implied, the mechanic jammed the crowbar into the gap between the driver side door and the back door.

Putting his full weight behind the crowbar, he pushed with all his might, attempting to pry the door opened.

All the effort gained him were bruised knuckles when the crowbar finally slipped out of the gap and banged his gloved hands against the side of the truck. Picking the crowbar up from the floor, he found it had been bent. But the truck remained unscathed despite the blow the crowbar had made to the door as it fell.

K.A.I.S.Y. snapped a few pictures of the mechanic's astonished face to share with Michaela later.

Carefully, almost delicately, the mechanic set the mangled crowbar on the workbench. Then he stalked back to the wall he'd taken the bar from.

This time, he chose the largest sledge hammer he could find.

The hood stood opened when he turned back this time. Just like with the door, it slammed shut as soon as he approached.

"I'll teach a damned truck to toy with me!" he muttered angrily under his breath.

Taking the hammer firmly by the end of the handle with his left hand, he loosely gripped the handle near the head with his right.

Swinging at the driver window for all he was worth, the mechanic wasn't prepared for what happened next.

He expected the sledge to go through the window with the sound of shattered glass. Instead, the sledge bounced harmlessly off the window, to land not so harmlessly on unfinished projects on the workbench. Pieces and parts flew in all directions, and his arm was almost wrenched from its socket.

The sound of laughter echoed back from the garage walls.

"What kind of pickup are you?" the mechanic asked in alarm.