Mammon by J. B. Thomas Page B

had begun in earnest. Soon it would flood the back garden and flush pools of fresh water over the pavers.
    Usually, she liked the rain.
    But today, it meant sitting inside for cups of tea and talking. Making plans, mostly. Before all this weirdness started, she would have looked forward to a Saturday afternoon with Dad and Mum: watching movies, eating fish and chips, snuggling up in a blanket against a sudden cold snap. But today felt laced with a sense of uncertainty, as if tomorrow would bring great change.
    What would that change be?
    * * *
    JOE SQUINTED, LIFTING his hand to shield against the fierce glare from the road. Something had happened. A telltale thud; the sound of an engine idling in mid air. It could only be one thing. He walked towards the glare. A shape came into view: a rider, lying on the tarmac. Joe shook his head.The wet must’ve gotten to this poor bastard.He kneeled over the rider, pulled the viser up. ‘You okay, dude?’
    He caught his breath as a pair of deep green eyes gazed up at him. Velvet skin and rich, moist lips. Strands of brilliant red hair poking through the side of her helmet.
    â€˜Whoa.’ Joe gulped. ‘Sorry. I thought you were a guy.’ He glanced back at her right leg, bent at a painful angle. ‘I’m gonna help you to the kerb, okay?’
    She nodded. ‘Thank you.’ Her voice was a warm, husky whisper. He ached to hear more.‘What’s your name?’ He slid his hands under the woman’s shoulders and began to drag her to the kerb.
    * * *
    GRACE MADE HER way across the living room and pressed herself against the window, wiping away the fog, straining to make out the movement in the distance. At the sound of squealing tyres she’d almost tripped down the last two steps in her rush. Now she saw the source: a rider, lying on the far verge; Joe bent over her. A downed motorbike.
    To the right, the hill’s abrupt descent and treacherous curves had caught speeding drivers before. It was easy to see what had happened.
    * * *
    THE RIDER LOOKED up at Joe with a grateful smile. ‘My name is Serena.’
    She was beautiful. Joe smiled. ‘Well, Serena, you’ll need to see a doctor. Your leg . . .’
    â€˜Can you take me?’
    â€˜I can come with you in the ambulance.’ His eyes focused on those delectable lips.
    She gasped. ‘No!’
    â€˜What’s wrong?’
    She blushed. ‘It sounds silly, but . . .’
    â€˜Tell me,’ Joe whispered, stroking her hand.
    â€˜I don’t like paramedics or ambulances. My sister was killed in a car accident, and –’
    Joe squeezed her palm. ‘Okay. Don’t worry. I’ll take you.’ He stood up and turned towards the road to pick up her bike.
    In the distance, Mammon stroked his chin. ‘She’s doing very well.’
    Andras nodded. ‘She just has to get him away from here, and we’ll be on our way, Master.’
    * * *
    AT HOME, GRACE watched Joe help the rider to the kerb.
    Her father appeared at her shoulder, phone still in hand. He peered out the window. ‘What’s going on?’ His jaw dropped. ‘That’s not Joe out there, is it?’
    â€˜Yeah,’ Grace said.
    â€˜Damn it!’ Dad lunged past and pushed the wire door open. ‘I told him!’
    A low, rumbling roar approached, accompanied by twin beams of light. The truck bore heavily down the hill, gathering speed as it descended. The driver, whose head had lolled more than once on this journey, rubbed his eyes and yawned. Not too far now .
    Grace pushed through the door and stood next to her father. ‘What’s wrong, Dad?’
    â€˜Joseph!’ Dad roared, waving his arm. ‘Get over here, now!’ Cursing, he headed towards the kerb, shooting tense looks around the neighbourhood.
    Joe squinted at his father. ‘What?’ His voice barely carried in the intensifying downpour. A fresh boom of thunder sounded.