Dempster Road

Chapter 3

"Jesus! What was that?"

Stella grabbed the mic. "Hello? Please identify. Is that you, Edgar? Over." The static grew louder and then there was silence. "Edgar, is that you? Barney? Sheriff Blackwell?" Stella looked stricken, and she leaned on the mic button pleading for a response. Stan came forward and took it from her. "Barney. Barney answer please." He paused and then changed channels. "Barney, come in, over."

The mic squawked and Barney's voice came over, impatiently. "Sheriff Blackwell here. What the hell kind of professional--"

Stan cut him off. "Barney, we got a strange transmission that must be from Edgar. Somethin's very wrong. All we get is static and strange gurgling sounds. Should I head out and see what's wrong?"

"Is he still out at that damn bridge?"

"We don't know! I told you what we heard, what should I do?"

"You keep trying to reach him, I'll head over there now. This other car thing can wait 'till mornin'."

The uncommon fear in his deputy's voice made his own concern rise and a few minutes later he was headed back down the highway at top speed to the cut-off to the River Road and Stroud's Bridge.

****

Ted Shafton sped down the dark highway, his mind churning angrily over the woman's reluctance after such a promising start. He thought she had started out being pretty good, but it wasn't long before she frankly began to scare him. The sudden change of attitude, the totally off-the-wall remarks, and the almost physical change in her appearance; all of it added up to one strange lady.

He figured the little he managed was more than compensated for in the money he threw at her, along with the price of the meal and the booze. Some lessons are tough, he thought. His cell phone rang, and he flipped it open, answering with a snap.

"You upset about something, Shafton?" Ted recognized his manager's voice and apologized as he slowed and edged the car onto the shoulder. "Just startled me. Hang on while I stop the car."

He listened to an update in his instructions, staring at the headlight track ahead of his car as it vanished in the night. Another car tore past, its lights joining with his and then dwindling to a mere hint before disappearing altogether.

Ted spoke for another minute or two and then hung up, easing the car back onto the black highway. Even the high beams did little to penetrate the inky night that could easily have been the end of the world. He gave a bitter laugh and leaned forward, concentrating hard.

The road took a shallow bend to the right, and as he came around the curve the sudden appearance of a car startled him and he yelped, jamming on the brakes and fighting the wheel as the car skidded off onto the shoulder. He lurched painfully, groaning when the seat belt slammed tight against his chest.

The car ahead was at a steep angle, but all wheels were still hanging on the shoulder. Ted managed to extricate himself from his car, and began walking slowly toward the other vehicle. In the pitch black all he could make out through the driver's window was a lumpy shape, no definition.

He bent closer, leaning from side to side, straining to see inside. The lump moved, and he realized it was a person, the figure was facing away and huddled, with arms wrapped about knees. Ted knocked on the glass then took hold of the door handle. He opened the door and reached out his hand, touching the figure.

"Hey," he said. "You all right? Are you hurt?" The figure turned around and faced him, and Ted felt his heart leap. "What the-! Oh, my--!"

****

Barney braked to a slow halt, his searchlight playing over the road leading to the entrance of the bridge, finding nothing untoward. The drive had been a wild one down the highway and over the new pavement of Dempster Road, and then on to the transition of the eroded River Road.

Edgar had apparently been on the south side when he last spoke over the radio, and since there was no sign of him here now, that meant driving through the covered bridge to the other side. For no particular reason, Barney hesitated. The quiet was deafening. He shone the light into the bridge and strained to sort out the shadows.

He keyed his mic and called the station. "Stella? Any word from Edgar?"

"Nothing, Sheriff. Not a sound. Nothing after that- that other noise. Where are you?"

"I'm at the south end of the bridge, and I don't see anything. I'm gonna drive to the other end and see if I can spot Edgar's car."

"Stay on the air please?" Her voice gave away the real fright she felt.

"Is Stan there?"

"Yes, he's right here. You want him?"

"Nope, just organizing my facts. I'll keep the mic open, Stella."

He took a deep breath and clamped his mouth shut. Having a live voice handy made everything seem a little more comfortable. His frustration with Edgar earlier didn't translate to his own behaviour; that was different. He eased the car forward, his hand held spotlight poking a brilliant hole in the darkness inside.

Damp air stuck to his cheek and he wanted to roll the window up, but then he would have to bring the light in, and he sure wasn't doing that, so he rolled slowly into the covered bridge listening to the clatter of the wooden floor giving to the weight of the car.

The old wooden structure creaked and groaned, and Barney scoured the sides and roof with his light, revealing ancient nests and signs of rot in the beams, a splash of colourful graffiti but so far nothing else.

Stella's voice gave him a brief start, and he assured her that he was still there and moving through the bridge. Halfway through, the headlights picked out the north opening and the gravel road beyond, but no sign of Edgar or his car.

Barney steered through the opening and stopped about twenty feet off the bridge. He checked his mirrors then drew his gun and stepped out of the car, spotlight now back on the roof and a flashlight in his hand, its powerful beam sending a yellow shaft through the surrounding trees.

He moved to the side of the road and saw tire marks, and a little further where the shoulder was all scraped, and when he shone his light down the embankment to the river he gasped. The light bar of a patrol car was just visible below the surface of the swirling black river water.

Barney aimed the flashlight at the water and slid down the bank, holding his gun over his head and trying to keep from continuing right into the river. The water was shallow for about four feet from the shore, and then it dropped off abruptly. That was where Edgar's car had settled.

Barney couldn't see inside the car from the shore, and he was definitely not going to go into the water. He was positive that any hope for Edgar, if he was in the car, was long gone. Scrabbling back up to the road, he grabbed the mic and related the situation to a shaken Stella, ordering her to contact the towing service, and to tell Stan to round up a couple of the locals and get them out there to help.

Barney sat in the car with the door open, his sopping feet unnoticed.

****

Floodlights cast gloomy halos over the bustling scene on the riverbank. A disgusted tow truck operator had arrived without boots, and reluctantly waded into the water to fasten his line to the submerged vehicle. A blanket was held by one of the townsmen while he changed into some  dry clothes.

A woman reporter from the local newspaper called suggestive taunts to him as he struggled out of his wet outfit, her camera flashing in the night, drawing loud and profane threats.

The men from town had tramped up and down the roadside for a few hundred yards poking at bushes and examining litter while the salvage operation took place, coming up blank. Barney and Stan stood by with strained patience waiting for the driver to finish changing, and get started hauling the patrol car out of the river.