William Meikle - The Hole

“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, taking in huge gasps of air that tasted as sweet as a hit of sugar. He helped the sheriff take the girl’s weight and they were in the process of lowering her to the ground when a shout came from behind them.

“Get back in the bus, please. Turn around and go back to town.”

Fred had heard that tone already, back at the barricade. He knew what he was going to see even before he turned.

A row of men in hazard suits walked out of the forest. They were spaced ten yards apart and the line stretched off into the dark for as far as Fred could see. All carried automatic rifles, and the nearest had his weapon pointed straight at them.

“This girl needs hospital treatment,” the sheriff said.

“Get back in the bus, please. Turn around and go back to town.”

“Change the record,” Big Bill said. “Can’t you see she needs help…”

His pleadings were cut short by a short burst of automatic fire. Dirt and pebbles flew from the ground at their feet.

“Get back in the bus, please. Turn around and go back to town.”

Even then Bill looked like he was going to make a stand, until the girl in their arms moaned, coughed and expelled a mouthful of blood.

“Maybe Doc…” Fred said, trying not to stare at the man holding the weapon on them.

Big Bill spat at his feet.

“Maybe,” he said. The sheriff took the girl’s weight, lifted her in his arms and without another word turned back to the bus. Fred had one last try.

“We just want to get to safety,” he said.

“Get back in the bus, please. Turn around and…”

Fred raised a hand and turned away.

“I know… go back to town. Do us a favor, would you? Come and look for us in the morning… if there’s any of us left.”

He followed the sheriff back to the bus.

Bill and Fred carried the girl onto the bus and laid her out on the floor beside Charlie. Passengers stood and gathered round until Bill moved them away. Janet pushed her way through.

“Give Doc some space,” he said. “This girl needs treatment, and she needs it now.”

As ever, the sheriff’s tone was enough to get them all back into their seats, but there was a new buzz of conversation around her as Janet knelt at the stricken girl’s side.

“Where does it hurt?” she asked.

The girl tried to speak. Fresh blood bubbled at her lips and Janet was kept busy for the next few minutes trying to assess the damage. The girl was in distress at first, but calmed somewhat as the tranquilizer that Janet administered started to take effect.

The girl only spoke once, just as she was going under the influence of the drug, and it didn’t make much sense to Janet.

“Watch out for the bears.”

Then she went under, her breathing finally slowing and heart rate coming down enough that Janet felt safe in doing a full examination. At first she was worried the girl might have internal injuries, but the blood in her mouth proved to be from where she’d bitten into her tongue. She also had deep bruises from where the seat belt had grabbed at her shoulder and a graze on her knee that had taken the skin off almost to the bone. But Janet was finally able to sit back on her heels and look up at Bill.

“She’ll live,” she said.

“Well, for the same time as the rest of us anyway,” Bill replied, grimly. “Although I ain’t too sure it’s going to be for long.”

Janet knew that Charlie had turned the bus around and driven away from the woods, but after that she’d been busy with the girl.

“Where are we headed?”

Bill looked tired and worn.

“We’re thinking maybe The Roadside . It’s on the far edge of town from the collapses, at least the ones we’ve seen so far. It’s either that or just stop where we are and wait it out, but folks will need toilet trips, and water, and…”

She put a hand on his arm.

“The Roadside sounds like a good plan to be getting on with. Once we get there we can regroup, come up with a strategy. It’s only a couple of hours until morning.”