Repairman Jack [02]-Legacies

As she rummaged, she glanced back the way she had come—still looking for that damn gray sedan—and noticed three men huddled around the door of a shiny red sports car parked on Julio's block about fifty feet from where she stood. A motley crew—a pierced-up white guy, a black, and a Hispanic—the two darker ones were shielding the white from view as he shoved a thin flat piece of metal into the car's window slot and worked it up and down.

Alicia didn't know much about cars but had no doubt these three were up to no good: looking to steal either the radio or the air bag, or maybe the whole car. She glanced around to see if anyone was coming, but at the moment the sidewalk was deserted.

Maybe it would be safer to wait for a cab farther down the street. She'd call 911 on her cell phone once she was safely on her way.

But as she turned to slip away, she spotted Jack leaving Julio's. He was ambling in her direction, but if he'd noticed her, he gave no sign. His eyes were fixed on the men trying to break into the car. Alicia noticed a change in his gait as he approached them… he was moving like a cat now.

He's not really going to get involved in this, is he? she thought. He's smarter than that, I hope.

But sure enough, Jack sidled up to the three men and stood before the two shielders, hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels as if watching them change a tire.

She thought she heard him say, "Hey, guys, whatcha doin'?"

Curiosity got the better of Alicia's common sense. Fascinated, she edged closer for a better look.

The black guy—he had a fade haircut and looked like he worked out a lot—looked at Jack as if he couldn't believe somebody was stupid enough to ask him that.

"What's it look like we're doin'?" He pointed to the white guy. "Our friend here locked himself out of his car and we're helpin' him out, okay? That all right wichoo?"

"Can I watch?" Jack said. His posture was loose and slouched; his voice sounded high and nerdy.

"No. Move on."

"Why not?"

"Because like I'm gettin' my period and I'm real cranky, and you hangin' aroun' is disturbin' our concentration. So just haul your nosy white ass on outta here."

"But I've never seen anybody use a Slim Jim before," Jack said. "I mean, it's really convenient that one of you happened to have one. You know, so you could help him out and all. I didn't think they were legal."

Christ, Alicia thought as she saw the three car thieves freeze. Is he out of his mind?

"Hey, yo," said the white guy, straightening and taking a step toward Jack. He wore a studded black leather jacket and ultra-short blond hair. He sported rings in both ears, his upper lip, and his right eyebrow. "You some sorta fuckin' cop or somethin'?"

"Who me?" Jack said, smiling timidly. "Oh, no! Not me. I'm no cop. But that just happens to be my friend Julio's car. And none of you guys is Julio. So why don't you find yourselves another car to boost."

Now it was the Hispanic's turn. He whipped the Slim Jim out of the window well and waved it in Jack's face.

"Ay, you crazy, meng? This is my man's car, and we're helping him. Now you get outta here 'fore I shove this down your t'roat and pull your asshole outta your mouth!"

They all seemed to think that was pretty funny. As they laughed and low-fived each other, Alicia noticed Jack's left hand ease from his pocket.

Don't do it, she wanted to shout. It's three against one. You haven't got a chance.

But as she watched Jack, she wondered about that. She sensed something primal and electric radiating from him. He'd been so laid back, so low-key in her office and back at the bar a moment ago, but now… now he was a different man. He seemed to vibrate with intensity, with fire, as if his daily existence was merely a series of interludes he had to endure until he was allowed a moment like this.

"And after he's finished," the white guy said, taking the metal piece from the Hispanic and holding it under Jack's nose, "I'm gonna come in the back door and yank out your tonsils!"

Tension coiled through the air, tightening. Alicia had heard that people who survived lightning strikes spoke of a strange, hair-raising—literally—sensation just before the strike. Alicia felt that now, as if the air molecules were ionizing and polarizing in anticipation…

"You have such nice blue eyes," Jack said over the new burst of laughter. "Can I have one?"

Before anyone could react or reply, Jack's hand darted up to the white's face. The move was so fast, so unexpected, that Alicia couldn't follow it. All she knew was that one second Jack's hand was darting through the air, and an instant later the white guy was staggering back, screaming.

He dropped the Slim Jim and clawed at his face, almost knocking over his black buddy as he turned in a wild circle.

Alicia gasped and backed away as she caught a glimpse of bright crimson flowing down his left cheek before his hands covered it.

Christ in heaven, what did he do?