"Sealed," George announced. He glanced up at them, offered a flat little smile, then turned and hurried to the back of the truck. Vincent followed, but he shook his head and gestured for Jennifer to stay back.
Not that she needed to see what George was doing. She knew what the inside of the truck looked like, essentially a mobile mechanics shop combined with a high-tech lab. Sophie and Su-Ma and George had gone hog-wild with designing it and configuring it for Internet hook-up and triple-strength power sources so he could run several diagnostic devices at the same time. There was even a small bomb-proof box built into the floor of the truck, with electric and manual release levers, so it could be dropped and left behind, if necessary. Jennifer shuddered, remembering that detail. What was wrong with them, that they had such fun fitting out the truck for George, without remembering that he wouldn't be "playing" with it, but doing serious work?
"Door to door service," Su-Ma called, her voice threading through the trees. Now Jennifer realized what an effective sound barrier those trees made. She didn't hear any of the traffic from the highway or from the drive-thru window of the Taco Bell.
She turned around and saw the dimly outlined shape of Su-Ma trudging down the gravel path. Mist seemed to almost glow, as if her silvery coat of fine hair caught and amplified the light that spilled through from the parking lot. Despite the white of his coat dominating, Puck seemed like a dark shadow in comparison, walking on Su-Ma's other side. Then the three of them stepped into the spill of light from the two sets of headlights, and Jennifer had to laugh.