24 Declassified: 03 - Trojan Horse by Marc Cerasini Page B

Caulder nodded. “It’s better.”
    “So you’re telling me you ain’t gonna need that nasty snow no more, not even when you get back to the city? Back to that world and all its evil influences?”
    The younger woman shook her head. “I’ve been off the drugs nine months now, free and clear. Thanks to you and the Reverend, I found me a better way. I’m not gonna backslide...”
    Rita Taft’s grin lit up her round face. “God bless you girl. Keep it up and next year you can take over
    my job!”
    Laney’s brown eyes opened wide. “I could never—”
    “You said the same thing six months ago when the Reverend made you a camp counselor. Now you’re the kids’ favorite.”
    “I sure do love ’em.”
    A cloud of dust appeared above the trees at the end of the camp. A moment later the church van arrived to take the kids home. Laney glanced at the bus nervously, hesitant to leave.
    Rita cleared her throat. “You have your cell phone. Don’t forget to call me when you get back to Compton,” she said. “And don’t fret. You’ll only be gone a few days. I’ll see you here next Tuesday when you come up with a fresh batch of kids.”
    Laney stooped and kissed the old woman on the cheek. “Take care, Miss Taft, and make sure to remind Tyrell to recharge your battery or you’re gonna get stuck again.”
    Rita jerked the chair forward playfully. “Go home, girl.”
    Laney bounded off the porch and down to the bus—really a large van with four rows for passengers. Already the kids were climbing inside choosing seats. She circled around to the passenger door and climbed aboard. Thelma Layton, a mother of five with cocoa skin and short black curls, greeted her with a wide grin from behind the steering wheel. “Girl, you are gonna regret going back to that city. Hell has got to be cooler than Compton.”
    “Shhh,” hissed Laney. “Watch your language in front of the kids.”
    Thelma threw her head back and laughed. “Those kids don’t scare me, and they ain’t listening anyway. I do watch my mouth in front of Miss Taft, however. Once I used the F word and she whacked me in the shins with that damn chair of hers.”
    Laney shot her friend a shocked look. “You’re lucky she didn’t have Tyrell wash out your mouth with soap.”
    Thelma offered Laney a sly smile. “I don’t worry about Tyrell nor the Reverend either. They’re both too old to catch up with me.”
    Thelma checked the passengers through the rearview mirror.
    “Okay, everyone, buckle up,” she called loudly over the laughter and cries of the children. A moment later she started the engine, kicked up the air conditioner. The bus circled the camp one last time, then climbed back up the hill toward the highway.
    The wooden gate was closed. Thelma braked and the dust cloud they’d kicked up washed over the bus. “I told Tyrell to leave that gate open. Where was he going, anyway?”
    “The Wal-Mart in Verdugo City. Miss Taft needed some stuff,” Laney replied. “Don’t worry. I’ll open the gate.”
    Shepoppedthe door andhoppedout,ran to the wooden gate and dragged it open. A few yards beyond the entrance, the concrete ribbon of highway began.
    “Get in!” Thelma called.
    Laney shook her head. “I don’t want to leave the gate open. Go through and wait for me on the highway.”
    Thelma waved and moved the vehicle forward. Over the rumble of the van’s engine, Laney thought she heard another sound—a roar like an airplane.
    Just as the church van rolled onto the highway, the muted, unidentified noise Laney heard before was suddenly a deafening roar. Racing full-throttle, a crimson sports car squealed around the corner, rushing toward the packed van for a head-on collision. Tires squealed and the vehicle fishtailed as Thelma tried to get out of the way of the oncoming hot rod. Her quick maneuver avoided a total smash-up, and the two vehicles struck with a glancing blow.
    Laney heard the sound of tearing metal, saw sparks. Shards of