It was the sight of her precious Camaro sitting there that took her breath away. Battered, glass shattered, the roof torn apart, it was still a sight for her eyes. Smiling, she traced a hand along the battered frame, regretting her foolishness that’d led to this.
"I don't understand," Bunny said as she turned back to face Marco. "How is it here?"
"I went and got it," he said.
Bunny understood instantly. "You took Peyton and brought it back. But how? And how did you even know it was mine?"
"I saw the crash. I tried to help you then, but you ran so damn fast, I had to circle around to catch up with you," he told her as he walked down the other side of the car, leaning on the broken roof.
She shook her head in amazement. "But, I don't get it. How did you do this?"
"Well," Marco shrugged. "There's certain advantages to being dead. Flipping a car over, for instance, or pushing it 12 blocks. Not something a normal human could’ve done easily."
"If you could do all that, what the hell did you need Peyton for?" she asked.
"Somebody had to steer," he said with a smile.
Bunny couldn't help but laugh. As much as she wanted to – and knew she should be – afraid of what he’d done, seeing her pride and joy again melted that all away. Still, there remained a question.
"Why did you do this?" she asked him.
He looked honestly surprised. "What? You planning to walk to Washington Park?"
"If I had to, yeah," she admitted. "Are you suggesting I can drive it, in this condition?"
"Don't know yet for sure," he explained to her. "The glass is a problem if you let too many of them get around you. Suspension seems to be pretty torn up. Otherwise, she doesn't seem to be in too bad of shape. Of course, that's only because they knew how to build things to last back then."
"So, what, you plan on fixing it?" Bunny found herself more than a little surprised.
"I can fix the suspension. That's not a problem. If the engine and transmission aren't too badly damaged, I can at least make it work till you get to the military camp. No promises past that, and none till I get in and see how bad off she is," he replied.
Bunny shook her head in amazement. "I'll give you a hand then."
"You think you can?" Marco smirked as he asked it.
"Haven't paid a mechanic for anything in 4 years now," she shot back with a smirk of her own.
Marco made an impressed face, or at least, she thought that's what it was. "Well, then, I'll try not to slow you down any."
"Yeah, yeah," she snarked. "Don't go getting on my bad side now, smartass."
He waved that off. "Seems you were worried about being on mine earlier."
"I try to stay in the good graces of people who could eat me," she told him.
"Forget that. Stay in the good graces of people who work for a classic car rebuild outfit," he said.
Bunny stopped, the humor fading from her face. "What? Seriously?"
Marco nodded. Bunny shook her head, trying to get her head around that one. It only took her a minute to figure out she couldn't. There was no grasping the pure impossibility of it.
"Do you believe in God, Marco?" she asked.
He stood there for a minute, rolling that one over. "I'm not sure anymore. Two days ago, absolutely. Now, well..." he gestured to his face.
"Think about it, though. I mean, how improbable is it that I would crash a classic car then get rescued by a dead guy who just happened to work at a classic car place, two blocks from the clinic I end up in. I mean, seriously, doesn't that just scream ‘impossible’ to you?" she asked.
Marco shrugged. "I'm dead and looking to fix your car. I think we need to redefine impossible a bit."
"Maybe so, but it's just too much of a coincidence," she argued.
"Maybe you’re just really lucky,” he offered.
Bunny gave a short, derisive laugh. "Yeah; me and Luck, not on speaking terms. Me and his bastard step-brother, Bad, we've been sleeping together."
"Preaching to the choir there," Marco told her.
Bunny sighed. "I'm just not sure what to make of it."
"Don't make anything of it. Or if you just must, be thankful and pass me a socket wrench," he replied with another shrug. "Either way, if you wrestle with it too much, your head will pop."
"Probably," she relented.
"Come on," he urged. "Help me with the hood."
Bunny gave in and pushed the oddity out of her mind. For now, it felt good to focus on something familiar. Letting everything else drift away, she allowed herself to fall into the simplicity of working on the car, the joy of doing something normal. She’d needed it, without realizing it.
Sadly, for Bunny, other people had realized a need they thought they should have, and it would prove the undoing of them all.
Chapter Nine
IT ONLY TOOK a couple hours to realize the Camaro's engine was in good running order. It wasn't great, and needed more help than they could give it, but it would run. The transmission was scuffed, but like the motor, would hold. The real issue was the suspension and the broken glass.
Fortunately, Marco had a plan to deal with the first problem, the second being beyond either of their abilities. Grabbing a duffel bag, he'd headed for the shop nearby, promising to be back shortly. In the meantime, Bunny shared some breakfast with Rosa, thankful to be enjoying a meal.
Peyton showed up shortly after Marco returned, even offering to help, much to everyone's surprise. With the three of them working, it went quickly, the rear tended to
