Page 43
Story: South of Nowhere
Colter called, “Saw!”
Dorion, Starr and Tolifson backed off the ladder—and Buddy made his way to the improvised sandbag well Colter had created.
Colter said, “Do the honors. Keep it shallow.”
Buddy fired up the tool, which clattered to life instantly. It was old, but Colter could see it had been perfectly maintained and the chain was new. He gave the fire department credit, and guessed that while the police rarely saw much felonious action, the fire service was kept pretty busy, even in a quiet town like Hinowah.
The man dropped the blade into the water, sending up a fierce spray—and filling the area with the huge sound of grinding. The teeth were sharp and dug readily into the sheet metal of the Chevy’s roof. Buddy was careful to cut no deeper than three or four inches in depth.
The instant of the first slice, the water drained inside, but the bags were doing an adequate job of keeping the rest of the pond at bay.
Soon he’d cut a U and was working on the final edge. Colter gestured to the saw and Buddy let it idle then gave it to him, while the fireman himself gripped the impromptu hatch in his gloved hands. “Ready!”
Colter revved the saw and completed the final cut as the firefighter lifted away the metal rectangle and pitched it into the pond.
Shutting off the saw, Colter rested it on one of the sandbags and pulled his tactical flashlight out of a rear pocket and clicked it on.
He wondered: What’re we going to find?
Dropping to his knees, he was hit by the scent of body odor and gasoline. A fuel tank leak! Had the fumes combined with the lack of oxygen killed them? There was no sign of life.
Directly beneath him were the empty front seats. He aimed at the second row.
There reclined a woman in her late thirties and two children, a teen girl and a boy a few years younger.
None of them were moving.
Their eyes were closed.
Colter dropped into the space and set his flashlight on the dashboard, pointed toward the rear of the vehicle. He turned to the three occupants.
He gripped the woman’s collar and pulled her forward.
With a gasp she startled awake, and gazed at him groggily.
Her movement jostled the daughter and she too stirred.
Colter noted something on the floor. An empty bottle of over-the-counter decongestant, and he understood that the family had cleverly tried to minimize their oxygen use by “overdosing” themselves to sleep.
Smart.
Though it would be a hell of a job to get the three largely unresponsive passengers out of the flooding vehicle fast.
And where was the fourth person Louis Bell had reported seeing?
No time to consider that further. Just get them all out.
“Who…?” The woman’s eyes were unfocused, and her voice slurred.
“Let’s go,” Colter said and muscled the woman into a sitting position. “You’re going to be okay.”
“No…children…first…”
Colter didn’t object. He helped the daughter sit and then pulled her to the front seat and, careful to avoid cutting her on the jagged edges, lifted her up to Buddy.
The girl was more or less conscious but the boy, smaller framed, was still out. Colter wondered how many pills they’d each taken.
“My…” The woman frowned and lost her train of thought.
Dorion, Starr and Tolifson backed off the ladder—and Buddy made his way to the improvised sandbag well Colter had created.
Colter said, “Do the honors. Keep it shallow.”
Buddy fired up the tool, which clattered to life instantly. It was old, but Colter could see it had been perfectly maintained and the chain was new. He gave the fire department credit, and guessed that while the police rarely saw much felonious action, the fire service was kept pretty busy, even in a quiet town like Hinowah.
The man dropped the blade into the water, sending up a fierce spray—and filling the area with the huge sound of grinding. The teeth were sharp and dug readily into the sheet metal of the Chevy’s roof. Buddy was careful to cut no deeper than three or four inches in depth.
The instant of the first slice, the water drained inside, but the bags were doing an adequate job of keeping the rest of the pond at bay.
Soon he’d cut a U and was working on the final edge. Colter gestured to the saw and Buddy let it idle then gave it to him, while the fireman himself gripped the impromptu hatch in his gloved hands. “Ready!”
Colter revved the saw and completed the final cut as the firefighter lifted away the metal rectangle and pitched it into the pond.
Shutting off the saw, Colter rested it on one of the sandbags and pulled his tactical flashlight out of a rear pocket and clicked it on.
He wondered: What’re we going to find?
Dropping to his knees, he was hit by the scent of body odor and gasoline. A fuel tank leak! Had the fumes combined with the lack of oxygen killed them? There was no sign of life.
Directly beneath him were the empty front seats. He aimed at the second row.
There reclined a woman in her late thirties and two children, a teen girl and a boy a few years younger.
None of them were moving.
Their eyes were closed.
Colter dropped into the space and set his flashlight on the dashboard, pointed toward the rear of the vehicle. He turned to the three occupants.
He gripped the woman’s collar and pulled her forward.
With a gasp she startled awake, and gazed at him groggily.
Her movement jostled the daughter and she too stirred.
Colter noted something on the floor. An empty bottle of over-the-counter decongestant, and he understood that the family had cleverly tried to minimize their oxygen use by “overdosing” themselves to sleep.
Smart.
Though it would be a hell of a job to get the three largely unresponsive passengers out of the flooding vehicle fast.
And where was the fourth person Louis Bell had reported seeing?
No time to consider that further. Just get them all out.
“Who…?” The woman’s eyes were unfocused, and her voice slurred.
“Let’s go,” Colter said and muscled the woman into a sitting position. “You’re going to be okay.”
“No…children…first…”
Colter didn’t object. He helped the daughter sit and then pulled her to the front seat and, careful to avoid cutting her on the jagged edges, lifted her up to Buddy.
The girl was more or less conscious but the boy, smaller framed, was still out. Colter wondered how many pills they’d each taken.
“My…” The woman frowned and lost her train of thought.
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