least I’ve got some smokes.
He lit up two more and passed one to Charlie, who sucked in a deep breath of smoke, none of which seemed to come back out.
The sheriff and Doc had moved back a step, deep in a whispered conversation. Fred leaned in close to Charlie so no one else could hear.
“So what do you think, old man? Is this old bus gonna get us up through the woods?”
Charlie shrugged. “It’s gonna have to. I don’t see we’ve got any other options. And we’ll find out soon enough.”
He pointed out the window. The tree line was only a couple of hundred yards away and they were closing fast.
* * *
“What the hell is that?” Charlie said. Fred had been looking up at the dark silhouette of the hill, and it was only when he lowered his gaze to check the tree line itself that he saw what Charlie meant. The bus headlights picked out a small truck lying on its side, wheels still spinning. Smoke belched from the grate, and something pale waved from a broken window—a bloodstained arm, waving for help.
Somebody’s alive in there.
Charlie had obviously seen the same thing. He brought the bus to a shuddering stop, hitting the brakes so hard that some of the passengers were thrown from their seats, bringing yells and curses echoing down the bus.
Fred was too busy to bother with that. Surprising even himself, he leapt out as soon as Charlie opened the door. He made straight for the burning truck. He heard more shouts from behind him, but didn’t stop. Twin shadows danced ahead of him, thrown long by the bus headlights, darkening his destination so that he didn’t spot the holes in the truck until he was almost on top of it.
Big holes, like the sort made by big guns.
The pale arm kept waving, and as he closed in he heard someone shouting, a young girl by the sound of it.
“Help me, please.”
He circled round to the far side of the truck, hoping to get easier access from the front end, but there was only a tangle of mangled hood and a windshield that wasn’t quite busted enough for it to be kicked in. He had to climb up and open the passenger door from above. A girl hung awkwardly in her seat belt. Fred looked at her mop of blonde hair, and his heart lurched.
Not again. I won’t lose another one.
Looking down he saw two bodies below the girl—an older couple, most probably her parents. The older woman had a broken neck, while the man’s cause of death was all too apparent. He had a penny-size bullet hole in his forehead from which blood still dripped.
What happened here?
The girl moaned, and turned to look up. She looked Fred in the eye and when she spoke, blood bubbled at her lips.
“Help me, please.”
“Just hold on,” Fred said. “We’ll have you out of there in no time.”
It proved to be harder than he would have hoped. He tried to get her out of the belt, but her whole weight was on it, pulling at the buckle and stopping it from disengaging. No matter from which direction he tugged, he couldn’t get her free.
“I need some help here,” he shouted, and at the same moment felt a hand on his shoulder. The sheriff climbed up alongside him. The big man looked down into the truck and sucked air through his teeth.
“Somebody’s going to pay for this night,” he muttered, then turned to Fred.
“Get down inside,” he said. “You should be able to squeeze down to get under her and lift her weight off the belt.”
Fred started to drop himself, feet first, through the window. The girl moaned, then yelped in pain as he squeezed past her. His feet landed on something soft.
I’m standing on her mother.
He pushed the thought away and forced his attention on to the job at hand.
It took some contortions by Fred and some heavy lifting from the sheriff, but they managed to get the girl out of the truck, and Fred was more than happy to climb out after her. He didn’t look down, even when his footing gave way and slid from under him. He grabbed the lip of the window and hauled himself up,
He lit up two more and passed one to Charlie, who sucked in a deep breath of smoke, none of which seemed to come back out.
The sheriff and Doc had moved back a step, deep in a whispered conversation. Fred leaned in close to Charlie so no one else could hear.
“So what do you think, old man? Is this old bus gonna get us up through the woods?”
Charlie shrugged. “It’s gonna have to. I don’t see we’ve got any other options. And we’ll find out soon enough.”
He pointed out the window. The tree line was only a couple of hundred yards away and they were closing fast.
* * *
“What the hell is that?” Charlie said. Fred had been looking up at the dark silhouette of the hill, and it was only when he lowered his gaze to check the tree line itself that he saw what Charlie meant. The bus headlights picked out a small truck lying on its side, wheels still spinning. Smoke belched from the grate, and something pale waved from a broken window—a bloodstained arm, waving for help.
Somebody’s alive in there.
Charlie had obviously seen the same thing. He brought the bus to a shuddering stop, hitting the brakes so hard that some of the passengers were thrown from their seats, bringing yells and curses echoing down the bus.
Fred was too busy to bother with that. Surprising even himself, he leapt out as soon as Charlie opened the door. He made straight for the burning truck. He heard more shouts from behind him, but didn’t stop. Twin shadows danced ahead of him, thrown long by the bus headlights, darkening his destination so that he didn’t spot the holes in the truck until he was almost on top of it.
Big holes, like the sort made by big guns.
The pale arm kept waving, and as he closed in he heard someone shouting, a young girl by the sound of it.
“Help me, please.”
He circled round to the far side of the truck, hoping to get easier access from the front end, but there was only a tangle of mangled hood and a windshield that wasn’t quite busted enough for it to be kicked in. He had to climb up and open the passenger door from above. A girl hung awkwardly in her seat belt. Fred looked at her mop of blonde hair, and his heart lurched.
Not again. I won’t lose another one.
Looking down he saw two bodies below the girl—an older couple, most probably her parents. The older woman had a broken neck, while the man’s cause of death was all too apparent. He had a penny-size bullet hole in his forehead from which blood still dripped.
What happened here?
The girl moaned, and turned to look up. She looked Fred in the eye and when she spoke, blood bubbled at her lips.
“Help me, please.”
“Just hold on,” Fred said. “We’ll have you out of there in no time.”
It proved to be harder than he would have hoped. He tried to get her out of the belt, but her whole weight was on it, pulling at the buckle and stopping it from disengaging. No matter from which direction he tugged, he couldn’t get her free.
“I need some help here,” he shouted, and at the same moment felt a hand on his shoulder. The sheriff climbed up alongside him. The big man looked down into the truck and sucked air through his teeth.
“Somebody’s going to pay for this night,” he muttered, then turned to Fred.
“Get down inside,” he said. “You should be able to squeeze down to get under her and lift her weight off the belt.”
Fred started to drop himself, feet first, through the window. The girl moaned, then yelped in pain as he squeezed past her. His feet landed on something soft.
I’m standing on her mother.
He pushed the thought away and forced his attention on to the job at hand.
It took some contortions by Fred and some heavy lifting from the sheriff, but they managed to get the girl out of the truck, and Fred was more than happy to climb out after her. He didn’t look down, even when his footing gave way and slid from under him. He grabbed the lip of the window and hauled himself up,
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