“Thirty seconds,” Artemis said, counting down to midnight. The leather seats creaked under Lorelei’s white-knuckled grip. Hal’s gaze stayed fixed on the junkyard. Beside me, Grim was holding both of Sadie’s hands in his own, as if he had to stop her jumping out of the SUV right then. I gripped the haft of Dad’s axe; the blade was balanced between my feet.
“Here we go,” Artemis said, and turned to look south.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Addamsville was quiet. Bach could have gotten held up. Or he could have lied to us.
Then a plume of fire erupted far on the south side of town. It spread up and out, tongues of flame licking at the dark sky, roaring in challenge.
The first plume died, but a flickering light appeared overthe south side. Another plume, then a third, down by the Goldmine. Bach must have been setting trees on fire. My hand tingled. My fingers ached.
“Zora!” Artemis yanked on my jacket. The front doors of the junkyard had burst open and Tad Thompson came sprinting out, his eyes two glowing red embers, his lips curled back from his teeth. He didn’t bother with any of the cars in the lot; he was running fast enough to meet the speed limit, anyway.
“Go, go, go!” I yelled.
We spilled out of the car and ran for the main building. Lorelei’s keys got us in. Inside was an auto parts shop—aisles of wiper blades, seat covers, and detailing supplies. A long front desk housed a register, lines of file folders along the back wall, and a large sign that said, WERESERVE THERIGHT TODENYYOUSERVICE. Beside the sign was a door with a plaque that read, OFFICE—EMPLOYEESONLY.
Lorelei, Sadie, Grim, and Mads made for the desk to search for the impound records. Hal, Artemis, and I went for the junkyard.
Past the desk was a hallway that led outside. The scrapyard could have fit the high school football field inside its fences. Rows and rows of cars covered huge dirt lots. To the south, old tractors lined up next to three-tiered racks of cars with wheels stripped off and engines picked apart. To the north,rows of cars stood gutted and left to rust, motionless yet strangely animate, like sleeping animals. Before us, a pile of multicolored scrap metal loomed, underneath a floodlight at the center of the junkyard. No ghosts.
“He must have moved the Chevelle,” I said as we hurried toward the Toyota, the Ford, and the Honda at the fence. We stopped several feet away, at the edge of two long, thick ruts gouged into the dirt. They were the width of tire tracks, but there were no treads visible in them.
The bastard had dragged my car.
We followed the tracks to the scrap mountain. Walls of metal surrounded an empty clearing; the floodlights burned away every shadow. The Chevelle sat in the dead center of it all, alone.
I huddled behind a truck with Artemis and Hal on either side.
“You both saw Ludwig run out of here, right?”
“Could we havemissedhim?” Hal asked.
“All right. If I catch on fire, just kill me. I don’t care how, but make it fast.”
“I’ll throw a bar of soap at you,” Artemis said.
“Fuck off.”
I hopped out from behind the truck and jogged to the Chevelle. Ludwig must have known this was an obvious trap, but how could I resist it? It was the Chevelle. It was Mom. Myskin crawled as I neared it. I was banking on the hope that Ludwig still thought I’d be useful to him. The car wasn’t even turned on, but I could already hear the purr of the engine, the big old panther pleased that I’d found it.
I popped the door. Nothing happened. Sank into the driver’s seat. Everything was quiet. Cranked the ignition. The Chevelle roared to life, its headlights flooding Hal and Artemis’s hiding spot. Sweet relief.
I picked up Artemis and Hal and drove around to the back of the shop, where Mads was standing at the gate, fighting with a mass of keys on a key ring. “It’s going to take me a minute to find the right one,” she said. Behind her, a thick chain held the gate shut.
“I could try breaking the chain with the axe,” Hal suggested.
“Not doubting your physical strength here, Hallybear,” Mads replied through gritted teeth as yet another key failed. “I just don’t think the laws of physics are going to be on your side.”
“Try the gold one,” Artemis said quietly. “That’s a key for a Master Lock.”
The key worked; Mads said, “Oh, nice eye, Arty,” and Artemis’s face lit up. Mads yanked the chain off and Artemis helped her push the gate open wide enough for the Chevelle to drive through. Gate closed; chain wrapped; lock back in place. Mads ran back inside to return the keys to Lorelei, who would put them back in the lockbox held shut with a six-digitcode: Buster’s birthday. The two of them returned with Sadie and Grim not far behind. Grim carried a thick file folder under one arm; Sadie was practically vibrating with excitement as she hopped past me.
“We’re going to need a shovel,” she said.
“What? Why?”
“Because Buster’s office was full ofdirt!” She cackled and threw herself into Mads’s SUV after Grim.
“We weren’t here to screw over Buster!” I hissed as I climbed into the Chevelle with Artemis. She was still smiling, just as jazzed as Sadie. “I hate everyone in this family.”
