“Mum will be happy to see me in the shop again. All right, let me get some tools and I’ll meet you back at the garage?” JC was just going to walk. It was a nice day and he wasn’t going to be of much use moving the tour bus. He knew absolutely nothing about mechanics and it was entirely too large to push the mile or so that they had to go. About to leave Judas to the job of figuring out the logistics, JC felt a cold chill wriggle up his spine.

All you need to do is touch the hood. The voice was as insistent as ever. No. It was worse, not a whisper but an outright command. JC actually felt his head pulse with the words and he pressed both of his hands against his temples.

“JC?” A chorus of voices, all concerned, followed.

He brushed them off, gently. Especially Peter. Pushing through the gathered men, he came to stand up on the back bumper of another car and, leaning over, he pressed his palms against the hood.

There was a spark and an eruption of black smoke from the tailpipe. The colour had completely drained from JC’s tanned cheeks so he was little more than bone white. He stumbled getting down from the bumper.

“Try it now.”