Jack Manifold Novels & Stories

I muttered to myself, "Just what we needed." I went around the car and popped open the trunk, pulling out the jack and wrench we would need to jack up the car and remove the damaged tire. After those came the spare, and I got to work, while Ethan stood on the grassy verge next to the road, watching me intently.

Her backpack was between her feet. Jack got in behind the wheel, shifted into drive, and moved the car up the driveway a lot faster than necessary. He locked the doors, and something told her that her reflexes were not going to be fast enough to unlock her door and get out before he could relock it—if she tried to get away from him. Did she want to get away from him?

Jennie reached out to grab the bank card and flight tickets in the glove box, which proved her decisiveness. But right at that moment, a car’s honks resounded. Jackson had brought more than 30 men with him, but Javier merely snickered without feeling worried in the slightest. Javier got out of his car and took his mechanical jack out of the trunk. “What the f*ck? Why the h*ll are you bringing that out? Do you think I’ve come here to ask you to repair my car, you f*cker?” Jackson brought his men forward as he rushed and cursed, while Javier held the jack that was close to 20 pounds in his hand and closed the trunk.

Jack gaped at the anxious werewolf before directing his gaze to the truck and said, "I am okay but this truck isn't okay!" Everyone waited patiently for Jack to explain his point. Jack saw the werewolves and said gravely, "The brake of this truck isn't functioning properly. There's some issue with it! I could have run into an accident because of the brake!" One werewolf said, "What?! The brake isn't working and we are planning to drive this faulty truck?" Blowing out a sigh, he went to Jack and patted his back, "Thanks buddy! It's dangerous to drive this truck!"

The base sinks slightly into the wet ground, tilting the whole frame at a bad angle. Not good. I grab a broken piece of wood from the roadside, shove it under the jack to stabilize it, then pull on the breaker bar again. The wrench slips, and my elbow slams into the metal rim hard enough to split skin. "Fucking hell." "You're hopeless," Carlton says, leaning against the car now with his arms crossed like he's watching a tragic comedy. "Just admit it. You have no idea what you're doing." I drop the bar into the mud, kick a spray of gravel out of sheer frustration, then wipe rain and blood from my knuckles.

Jack assured. His nostrils flared. He ended the mind link and tried to start the car again. But the key was missing. It only meant that Alicia had taken it with her. He opened the glove compartment and found a pair of pliers. He decided to try to hotwire the car by connecting the two wires. He was about to do that when he felt a cold breeze coming from outside. He looked up and saw dark clouds gathering in the evening sky. There was a rumble of thunder from a distance. He realised that it was going to rain.

If I pushed it, I could make it in forty minutes. I tossed the rock and yanked the spare and jack out of the trunk. Ten years on the road—I could swap a tire in five minutes. Jay Zander, just wait. I'll show you what digging your own grave really means. *** I ditched my jacket, rolled my sleeves, and got to work. Jack up the car. Crack the lug nuts. Yank the tire. Slam on the spare. Clean. Fast. No wasted motion. Sweat stung my eyes. I didn't blink it away. Every second mattered.

Jack exclaimed as he was trying to calculate the measurement of the ladder of the truck. "It will be really good I think." He said while nodding his head. Jack walk his way to the drivers seat and hold to try to open it but he can't. It was locked and it doesn't have a key. He tried to peek inside to look on the drivers seat if there is a key inserted but he didn't see any. "Now that is a problem." He said while going down from the truck. He was thinking of any other way to let the truck start. He walk around to look for something that he can use to smash the window of the truck. He saw an axe not far away from those trucks. He reach for it and carry it.

“Is it right here? No—wait. Maybe a bit more to the left?” I stayed quiet, watching him struggle as he moved the jack again. A metallic scrape echoed as it slipped. Fred cursed under his breath. “Damn thing won’t stay put.” Another slip. Then— Footsteps. Quick and deliberate. Warren was back. He didn’t say anything at first. He just marched straight over, his jaw tight, eyes flashing. Without warning, he snatched the jack out of Fred’s hands. “For God’s sake,” Warren growled. “You couldn’t even find the support point. Were you trying to snap the damn undercarriage?”

I said plainly, stating the faults caused by the race. “Okay, Sir!” The mechanic replied. He signalled his co-worker. The co-worker nodded and ran towards the other route. He returned shortly, sitting behind the wheel of a tow truck. I watched as the mechanic attached the winch to the car’s axle. He gave the driver a thumb up as a signal to start driving. “So, ready to celebrate? 156th win so far.” Jasper said enthusiastically. Hm! I slid my hand to my pocket and got a pack of cigarettes. I took out a stick and discarded the rest in my pocket. I lit it with a lighter.