In The Company of Deceit

Chapter 7 - Dangerous Distractions

Art blinked furiously, accelerating down the dark highway. All the trips he'd made to Levan without incident and this time, right when he and Junie were grinding away in her bed getting it on beyond belief, her mother barges in all outrage and moral ranting.

Junie had run crying from the room and when Art tried to leave, mother blocked the door, making her own demands if he didn't want to be reported to his bus company. The demand was without option and Art performed as commanded.

He spun the wheel as the bus lurched into a sharp bend in the highway, his mind revolting against the concession he made to Junie's mother. He would rather have been castrated, he groaned inwardly. Now, every pit stop in Levan from this trip on was going to be his personal hell if he wanted to keep his job. He had to put in for a transfer... he just had to.

The violent heave of the bus had Kate grabbing for the seat beside her and she heard the alarmed cries from some of the others. The driver was wrestling with the large wheel, trying to control the swerving vehicle. The wheels slipped off the pavement and skidded on the dirt shoulder, peppering the metal frame with gravel before lurching back onto the road, only to twist sideways again and with a squeal of rubber, crossed the lanes to the other side.

The bump lifted her from the seat and she banged her head on the window glass as the vehicle landed hard, tilting up on two wheels and hanging poised before slowly dropping over onto its side. Bodies fell from one side to the other and there were screams and shouts mixed with cries of pain as the big vehicle slammed against the ground raising a choking dust that blossomed in through several broken windows.

Kate could hear the driver's panicked voice calling out, and as she managed to crawl upright she could see, in the flickering cab lights, the others in various stages of struggle. The bus had landed with the rear doors up, and opened, no thanks to their driver. Virginia dragged herself up from between the seats and hugging her laptop to her chest, used one hand to try pulling herself up through the opening.

With a loud grunt and a clumsy move, the snorer from behind Kate's seat fell forward and pushed the woman up through the doorway with both hands on her backside, following with a series of grunts and groans.

Incongruously, she thought that it was the only time she had seen him not clutching his case. Kate looked back to where he was sitting and saw it had popped open and was lying on its side. Her mind did a double take as she was sure she saw bundles of bills before the man dropped back and smothered the bag with his body, locking it again. No wonder, she thought.

They traded hostile glances and then he scrambled up onto the seat and out through the door.

"Thanks for being a gentleman." She said with irritation.

Forward, where there was a tangle of bodies, she saw Mickey lifting one of the elderly women off the floor between the seats, her limp body betraying her condition. The other woman, it looked like Belinda, was holding a small pillow to her head and sobbing as she watched.

Kate looked around and spotted the luggage piece still in the rack where she had placed it; Belinda seemed to have actually forgotten it for a moment. She made her way forward, climbing over the seats, now in the dark as the bus lights died. Reaching the row where Belinda was frantically waving at Mickey to be careful and trying to get the Mexican who was yelling to lend a hand, Kate slipped down to the wall and lifted out the bag, setting it on the window beneath her feet.

What was she doing? Here they all were in a crisis situation and she was using it to satisfy her perverse curiosity. Curiosity won and she managed to undo a strap far enough to peek inside. Even in the dark she knew what she was feeling inside the bag and she quickly refastened it and heaved it up to where Belinda was trying to balance.

"Your bag is safe, Belinda. I'll see it gets outside for you." Belinda looked stricken and Kate figured it wasn't over her daughter's condition. You might have read too many fictional mysteries, Semple, but your instincts in this case were correct.

There was another burst of panicky Spanish from near the front and some yelling by the driver. Benjamin offered Kate his hand and pulled her up through the open doors, letting her step up on his knee to gain access to the opening. She scrambled across the side of the bus, pushing the bag ahead of her, and dropped to the ground, jarring an ankle. Benjamin followed and then waited on the bus to help haul Belinda then the semi-conscious Muriel through the doorway.

It was apparent right away that something serious was wrong with Muriel, but even so, Belinda was making sure that the piece of luggage was out where Kate said it would be. Benjamin had to struggle to get her out and then sat back with her limp form in his lap while Mickey clambered up to the outside.

The buses headlights probed aimlessly down the shoulder of the highway, picking out tufts of straw grass and bits of rock, gradually fading into the night. Dust swirled in the beams and a few insects made jerky trips through their dull glow. Mickey and Benjamin lowered Belinda to the ground and then, along with some help from Virginia, lowered Muriel to the ground where she was laid out on the grassy slope beside the road.

At the front of the bus the driver was prying up one of the windows and pulling one of the Mexicans out then the two of them dragged the second man out and put him on the ground.

"¿Me puedo ayudar por favor?"

"I'm afraid your friend is dead." The driver said, his voice trailing off with a hoarse scraping, thoughts of his coveted transfer quickly turning to certain dismissal.

"¿Que?"

"Muerto."

The man fell back on the grassy slope and stared at his friend's body, his face falling as if melting.

"Lo siento." The driver felt sick. Anger and stupid drinking had certainly solved any problem he might have had with Junie's mother; he'd be lucky to drive a nail in this state after this was finished.

Kate was on her cell phone calling 911 and trying to tell the operator where they were. The driver came down and told her a more definitive location and she passed it on.

"Is anybody down here hurt badly?" He asked, rubbing a distraught hand through his hair.

"My daughter!" Belinda cried. "She's bleeding!"

"Is everyone out of the bus?" He asked, not wanting to acknowledge another injury that was clearly caused by his own carelessness. There was a quick head count, and except for Del Darrigo, they were all together on the grassy slope.

"Where is the other man?" The driver fretted, scrambling up to the highway and staring off in both directions.

"See him?" Somebody called.

"No! You sure he's out of the bus?"

"I saw him get out." Kate called. "Maybe he's behind the bus somewhere." She turned her attention to Muriel, applying a handful of tissues from Belinda's purse to the bleeding wound on her head.

The driver dashed back down the slope and around the overturned bus, calling and swearing as he tripped and fell over bushes and rocks. Twenty minutes passed and Del Darrigo didn't turn up, but the highway patrol did, roof lights flashing and sirens blaring noisily. Ten minutes after them came the paramedics with the same showy routine. Lights were set up on the highway around the crash site and the passengers were brought to the edge of the road and seated in a line facing back down the hill.

The paramedics were treating Muriel and strapping her to a stretcher that they then dragged like a sled back up to their truck. Jose Ramos was pronounced dead and loaded into the same vehicle as Muriel, which then sped back the way it came, the lights and siren back in action. Carlos Hateris watched it leave with a fearful desolation.

Art had contacted the bus company via the police communications system and after getting a strip a mile wide taken off his body, they arranged for a van to get to the site and transport the passengers to Salt Lake and put them up in a hotel for the night until the police had finished all the necessary paperwork and given them their release.

It was another hour, cramped, sore and angry, before they were loaded into a large passenger van and given coffee from a thermos and candy bars for nourishment. Art remained with the police and when they had secured the crash site and put up all the necessary warning markers, he rode with them in their cruiser.