James Chase - The World in My Pocket

‘Take it dead slow,’ Kitson said to Bleck, ‘and keep in bottom gear. You’ll have to use your lights. Whatever you do, keep going. If you stop, you won’t get enough grip to start again.’

‘Okay, okay,’ Bleck said irritably. ‘You don’t have to tell me how to drive. You handle your crate. I’ll handle mine.’

‘Let me get up to the top before you follow,’ Kitson said. ‘I may have to have a second shot at it, and I don’t want you in my way if I have to back down.’

‘Okay. Don’t talk so much,’ Bleck snarled. ‘Get on with it!’

Kitson shrugged and went to the Buick and got in.

With his headlights on, he put the gear lever to ‘Low’ and then, with a steady pressure on the gas pedal he sent the car up the slope.

He had a lot of power to help him, but the caravan, although empty, was still heavy and it acted as a drag. Every now and then the car’s rear wheels spun, throwing stones and loose gravel to right and left.

Ginny was sitting forward, staring ahead, warning Kitson of any big stones before he saw them himself. They were moving slower now, and Kitson, gripping the wheel, was muttering to himself, squeezing down on the gas pedal, feeling the car juddering.

Any second now, he thought, we’ll stop and then we’re sunk.

He swung sharply to the right, easing the direct drag, then to the left, tacking in the narrow space that needed all his skill to keep the Buick from leaving the road.

The speed picked up.

The water in the radiator began to boil and the inside of the car was unbearably hot. The headlights picked out the smoother surface of the road just ahead.

‘You’ve nearly done it!’ Ginny cried excitedly. ‘Only another few yards.’

Kitson had kept a little power in reserve for just this moment. He now pushed the gas pedal to the floor. The rear wheels spun, the back of the car moved to the right, then the tires bit, and the car and the caravan lurched onto the made-up surface of the road and immediately began to gain speed.

Kitson pulled up.

‘We’ve done it!’ he exclaimed, grinning. ‘Phew! I thought it was going to lick us!’

‘Well done, Alex!’ Ginny said. ‘That was a fine piece of driving.’

He grinned at her, set the parking brake and got out of the car.

Bleck was starting his run up. He hadn’t the horsepower that Kitson had had to help him, but neither was he pulling a heavy caravan.

‘He’s taking it too fast,’ Kitson said and began to run down the hill towards the approaching headlights of the truck.

Bleck was rushing the hill, his foot flat on the gas pedal, leaving himself nothing in reserve for an emergency.

The truck bounced and banged over the uneven surface, throwing Gypo, sitting beside Bleck, heavily against the side of the truck.

‘Take it easy,’ Gypo gasped. ‘You’re going too fast!’

‘Shut up!’ Bleck shouted. ‘I’m handling this!’

Gypo saw a big stone appear in the headlights of the truck.

‘Look out!’ he bawled.

Bleck missed seeing the stone and the off-side front wheel of the truck hit it and the truck wrenched to the left. Before Bleck could control the truck, it was sideways on to the hill and the engine had stalled.

Alarmed at the angle the truck was leaning, Gypo yelled, ‘It’s going over!’ and he tried to open the truck door, but the angle was so sharp and the door so solid, he couldn’t open it.

‘Stay still, you fool!’ Bleck shouted. ‘You’ll have us over!’

Kitson came running up.

He too was alarmed at the angle of the truck, and he jumped on the running board, adding his weight to the already lifting wheels.

‘Start her up and back slowly,’ he said to Bleck.

‘If I move her, she’ll go over,’ Bleck snarled, sweat on his face.

‘There’s no other way. Take it dead slow with a full right lock.’

With an unsteady hand, Bleck thumbed the starter, then, as the engine came alive, he engaged gear.

‘Let the clutch in gently,’ Kitson said. ‘Don’t jerk it. Start pulling her around as soon as she begins to move.’

Cursing under his breath, Bleck began to let the clutch in. As the truck began to move, he turned the steering wheel. For one horrible moment he felt the off-side wheels lift clear of the ground and he was sure the truck was going to turn over, but Kitson’s weight just balanced it and slowly the truck came around and once more faced towards the steep hill.

As Bleck tried to get into a forward gear, the truck started to run backwards and he had to slam on his foot brake.

The engine stalled.

‘Okay,’ Kitson said, contempt in his voice. ‘Come on out. Let me have her.’

Muttering, Bleck got out. He was glad to give up the wheel.

Kitson looked at the angle the truck was now at and he shook his head.

‘Get some rocks. We’ll have to pack the back wheels,’ he said and, going to the side of the road, he caught hold of a large rock and half dragged it, half carried it to the truck and dumped it down into the soft soil behind one of the rear wheels.

Bleck came staggering over with another rock and fixed the other wheel.

Kitson got into the cab of the truck and started the engine.

Leaning out of the window, he said, ‘You and Gypo get ready to block the wheels if I stall. I may have to jump her all the way up. The tires won’t bite on this.’

‘Get on with it!’ Bleck snarled, furious with himself for bogging the truck down.

Kitson got the engine running fast, then he released the handbrake, letting the truck settle back on the rocks.

‘Here we go!’ he shouted and gently let in the clutch.

The truck moved forward, skidded with its rear wheels spinning, throwing dirt and stones back at Bleck and Gypo. Half blinded, they turned their backs, shielding their faces.

Kitson tried to hold the truck straight, gunning the engine, but the strain was too much, the engine stalled and he had just time to slam on his brakes, having gained a couple of yards.

Even with the brakes on, the truck began to slide back and Kitson yelled to Bleck to block the wheels. He lost a yard before Bleck and Gypo got rocks against the wheels.

The next time he tried, the other two stood clear and he gained a good four yards before the engine stalled, and Bleck and Gypo rushed up and dumped rocks under the wheels before the truck lost ground.

This went on for a good half hour. Kitson jumping the truck forward while Bleck and Gypo blocked the wheels. Finally, they were within fifty yards of the Buick, but all three men were so exhausted by their efforts, Bleck called a halt.

‘Let the sonofabitch cool off,’ he said, leaning against the side of the truck and panting.

Kitson got out of the truck.

‘Not far to go now,’ he said as Ginny came running down to join them. ‘Once off this, she’ll be okay.’

‘You’re doing fine,’ Ginny said to him.

He grinned happily at her.

‘The tough driver,’ Bleck sneered. ‘The boy wonder, with a way with cars.’

Ginny looked at him.

‘That’s something you can’t claim, is it?’ she said.

Bleck sneered at her.

‘Okay, stick up for him,’ he said. ‘You’re the only one.’

He walked away to the edge of the road, where he sat on a rock and lit a cigarette.

There was a long wait, then when Kitson had decided the engine was cool enough, he called to Bleck and got into the truck. Ten minutes later the truck was standing beside the Buick.

‘I can tow her now,’ Kitson said. ‘Better get her under cover again.’

He drove the truck into the caravan and Bleck and Gypo got in.

Shutting the back of the caravan, Kitson went to the Buick and slid under the steering wheel.

Ginny said, ‘You were fine. If it hadn’t been for you, we’d never have made it.’