Jonas staggered back under the weight of the replacement axle. The wood was massive, cracked in several places, clearly patched together in a hurry. He let it drop into the dust with a cloud of splinters.
"Damn thing weighs a ton," he panted. "And it's warped. This won't hold."
"It'll hold till Martissant," grumbled the bearded man. His hand absentmindedly tapped the handle of his axe. "Otherwise… we'll find a nice hole to die in."
Dylan crouched near the shattered wheel. His fingers traced the fractures, the torn-out bolts. Not an expert, but he understood the logic of broken things.
"We need to lift the back," he said to Maggie.
She nodded briskly and moved into position, hands set firmly on the sun-worn wood.
One… two… three…
They pulled. The cart groaned. Dylan's muscles bulged beneath his sweaty skin.
"Elisa! The block!"
