The Boston Snowplough

by Sue Rabie

  ‘No,’ he said, staring at her in surprise as she turned and started walking purposefully down the passage. ‘Why?’ he called after her as he hurried to catch up.

  She was angry again, he could tell by the set of her shoulders.

  ‘May!’ he called after her, stopping her outside the office door.

  The door was ajar, the sound of the crackling radio coming from inside.

  ‘Why do you want to know?’ he asked again.

  ‘I want to know how Kyle found out who David was,’ she answered firmly.

  Malan shrugged. ‘What does it matter?’ he asked.

  ‘Because whoever told him knew how much damage they could cause by revealing that information.’

  ‘Constable Potgieter?’ Malan suggested, somewhat dubiously.

  ‘Hmmm,’ May agreed. ‘And where did Potgieter find out?’

  ‘Look, May,’ Malan said, ‘Du Plessis is an honourable man …’

  ‘I know that,’ May said, interrupting him, ‘but I need to ask him anyway …’

  ‘Don’t do anything silly,’ Malan said as she put her hand on the door to the office and began to open it. ‘There’s enough trouble here already.’

  ‘Really?’ asked a voice from behind Malan’s desk.

  They both stopped.

  The high-backed chair swivelled, and sitting in it was Alex Kyle.

  He was holding a gun with a silencer on it.

  He smiled, and pointed the weapon at them. ‘Actually, he was no trouble at all,’ he said, glancing behind them.

  May and Malan couldn’t help but follow his gaze.

  Standing behind the door, so they had been unable to see him when they had come in, was Jake.

  He too was smiling, because in his hand was Du Plessis’s wicked-looking Kershaw, and at his feet was the body of Johannes Du Plessis.

  There was a lot of blood beneath the body and on the knife that Jake held in his hand.

  ‘What the …?’ Malan began.

  But as he turned back to Kyle, Jake stepped forward and took him powerfully around the shoulders, and without even the slightest hesitation, he thrust the blade into Malan’s back, just beneath the left shoulder blade and between the ribs so that the blade slid unimpeded into his heart.

  Sixteen

  ❄

  David listened to the footsteps echo in the corridor as May and Malan made their way back to the main hall. He was upset and angry, hardly feeling the cold that only minutes before had been enough to halt his slide into self-pity.

  Damn it! What did she know!

  A journalist! He remembered how he had thought of them when his trial was still underway.

  Scavengers.

  He had made another mistake. He had trusted someone, had even begun to like her.

  He wanted to swear at her, he wanted to …

  But she hadn’t betrayed him. He had done that himself.

  She was one of the few people who had accepted him without question. Sure, she had different reasons for not asking – she knew it all already – but still, she had been good to him, like Anri and Mark, and now he had let them all down.

  ‘Bastard,’ he said to himself. ‘You bastard.’

  He felt ashamed as he realised what a foolish mistake he had made. She had been more right than she ever could have realised. He was doing this to himself, was creating a prison for himself from his guilt.

  He looked at the locked door and wondered if Du Plessis had managed to find out who Alex Kyle and Jake really were.

  What did they want?

  The bus. It had to be something to do with the bus.

  Jake had been the first to show it. He hadn’t wanted to leave the bus when David had first found them. He had resisted when David had made them come away with him, even though staying surely meant a slow and painful death.

  Alex Kyle had displayed the same reluctance to leave the bus when they had gone back to check whether those that had left the bus to look for help had circled back. In the end, he had shown little concern for the wellbeing of the lost passengers, had only wanted to get to the cargo beneath the bus.

  Were they after something in the hold?

  It had to be, but what was so important that they would risk their lives to get back to it?

  Risk their lives and other people’s.

  The thought echoed in David’s mind.

  Why would they shoot someone in cold blood? They wouldn’t have shot Mark out of spite, or simply because they were malicious, they had to have a motive.

  How would they benefit from Mark’s death?

  No, there would be no advantage in that.

  Unless they didn’t want him dead. Unless they only wanted him wounded.

  And then he knew.

  The helicopter.

  The first thing David had ordered Malan to do after he had stabilised Mark was contact the Emergency Medical Services, to request the evacuation of a patient.

  It was standard operating procedure.

  It suddenly dawned on him, and he stood up abruptly.

  They were planning to use the helicopter to make good their getaway with whatever was in the cargo bay of the bus. They would sacrifice Mark, and whoever else got in their way, and simply take off in the helicopter and never be seen again.

  He took two strides towards the door and grabbed the handle.

  It really was locked.

  David hadn’t believed it until now.

  ‘Du Plessis!’ he yelled.

  He thumped twice more on the door before he stopped to listen.

  Nothing.

  ‘Du Plessis,’ he yelled again. ‘Let me out!’

  Still nothing.

  He was about to thump on the wood for the third time when he heard the key turn in the lock.

  ‘Thank God,’ he said. ‘Listen,’ he went on, as the door swung open, ‘I know what they’re after …’

  ‘Really?’

  David stepped back.

  ‘You know what we’re after?’ Kyle asked, taking a step into the room and pointing a gun straight at David’s heart. ‘How fortunate …’ Kyle grinned.

  Behind him came Jake, and held in his grip, with a switchblade against her throat and a hand over her mouth so she couldn’t scream, was May.

  ❄

  David took a step away from the door.

  The stool he had been sitting on overturned as he backed up against it, the sound very loud in the room.

  David stopped moving backwards, but it didn’t stop Kyle advancing towards him until the barrel of the gun was touching him. David felt it push against the base of his throat, felt his pulse beat against the ice-cold metal.

  ‘Seeing as you know what we want, I won’t have to tell you where to go, and how to get us there.’

  David stared at him. He had been looking at May, at the fear in her eyes as she was forced into the room by Jake. There was blood on her cream jersey, a spray of it across her shoulder.

  Not hers, David thought. Someone else’s.

  ‘What have you done to Malan?’ he asked.

  Kyle smiled. He pushed harder with the gun, forcing David to stumble backwards over the stool.

  ‘Let’s just say he won’t be needing that evacuation helicopter,’ Kyle told him.

  ‘You son of a bitch …’ David whispered. ‘You’ve killed him …’

  Kyle laughed. ‘Yes,’ he said, and slammed the butt of the gun into David’s face.

  David tried to turn away, but the blow caught him high on the cheek where Jake had kicked the door of the horsebox against his face.

  David felt warm blood trickle down his cheek as he looked back at Kyle.

  ‘Just to make things clear,’ Kyle’s explained. ‘I need you. You’re the only one who can help me get what I want.’ He slowly walked around David, the gun remaining at David’s neck. ‘But that’s not going to stop me hurting someone else if I don’t get it.’ He pushed the gun’s silencer against David’s cheek so that he had no choice but to turn his
head away, towards May. ‘Do we have an understanding?’

  David understood perfectly. They wanted him to take them to the bus, and they were going to use May to ensure his co-operation.

  ‘Do. You. Understand?’ Kyle asked again.

  ‘Yes,’ David said, forcing the words out. ‘I understand.’

  Seventeen

  ❄

  They were shepherded into the passageway. Jake went first with May still in his grip as he checked the corridor was empty. David was next, the barrel of Kyle’s gun in the small of his back.

  ‘Keep going,’ Kyle hissed.

  David complied. He followed without looking back as Jake half pushed, half dragged May to the exit. The wind and snow swirled in as Jake opened the door.

  ‘Outside,’ Kyle instructed.

  It was freezing; the snow thick. He hunched his shoulders against the cold, then stumbled forward as the gun was forced into his ribs once more.

  ‘To the grader,’ Kyle ordered.

  The grader and the horsebox were parked in front of the club, and it was with difficulty that the four of them waded through the thick drifts towards its dark mass.

  ‘Get her into the box,’ Kyle instructed Jake. He almost had to shout, bending forward for Jake to hear.

  David saw his chance. He half turned to strike out, but Kyle was waiting for him. The gun was slammed against the side of his head, this time hard enough to send David to his knees. He crashed against the side of the grader, snow cascading around him.

  ‘That was stupid,’ Kyle growled, as David leant against the huge blade, trying to hold back the pain.

  He felt the barrel of the gun slide under his chin.

  ‘Next time that happens I’m going to tell Jake to use the knife,’ Kyle said, the menace in his voice unmistakeable.

  David clenched his teeth. It was no use fighting, the man was too strong, too familiar with violence.

  He nodded.

  ‘All right then,’ Kyle said, forcing David to his feet, the gun digging into his neck. ‘Now,’ he continued. ‘You’re going to drive out to the bus. You’re not going to stop. You’re not going to leave the road. You’re not going to try anything smart.’ The gun twisted against his skin. ‘Understand?’

  David was barely able to nod.

  ‘And if I think you’re breaking any of the rules I’m going to give the signal to Jake. He’s very good with the knife. He doesn’t kill straight away. He likes to cut first and then watch. You get me?’

  David got him.

  ‘Get in,’ Kyle ordered. ‘Start it up.’

  With that he was shoved towards the driver’s seat, Kyle right behind him and the gun hard in his side.

  ‘Drive,’ Kyle instructed, wedging himself in the cab’s open doorway.

  The gun was in David’s face as he reached for the keys. His hands were shaking, from the cold or from the adrenaline, he didn’t know which. The dried blood that still coated his hands froze and stuck instantly to the icy metal as he turned the key and pressed the starter.

  This time the engine coughed into life at the very first attempt. He glanced up at Kyle who smiled at him sardonically. David knew they were going to die. He knew that Kyle was going to kill them as soon as David got him to the bus and its cargo. He almost stopped it then and there. What the hell … Let him do it, he thought, let him do it now.

  And then he thought of May. He knew what they would do to her, remembered what Kyle had promised Jake would do with the switchblade if he tried anything. The image woke him from his despair. He couldn’t leave her, couldn’t leave Mark and the others to their fate either. If David gave up, Kyle would only use someone else to do his dirty work, and more people would get hurt, more people would die. He had to come up with a plan.

  He made himself put the grader into gear and release the clutch.

  The grader lurched forward and they circled around the front of the club before turning down towards the main road. Kyle pointed him up the hill towards the murky shape of the farmers’ exchange in the distance.

  He began thinking clearly now, his mind focusing.

  When would Kyle do it?

  When they got to the bus or before?

  How would he do it? A bullet to the back of the head?

  No … He would want to save ammunition, so it would be something else.

  The switchblade?

  Yes, Jake would do it … do both of them, and he would take his time. He would kill David first, get him out the way because he was dangerous, and then he would take his time with May. He would take her into the bus first, would have his way with her before he slit her throat. And why not? He would have all the time in the world and no witnesses.

  Witnesses …

  Now his mind was working furiously.

  He knew Kyle and Jake would have to head back to Boston after they had retrieved whatever it was they were looking for, after they had killed May and himself. It would be easy for them to follow the trail home to the club. They would head back there because that’s where Mark was, that’s where the EMS helicopter would land.

  But Mark would be dead by the time it came. Not because of his injury, not because Thembi and Phiwe couldn’t save him, but because Kyle and Jake would kill him first, would kill everybody in the club. They had already killed Malan – it was his blood that he had seen on May’s jersey. Had they killed Du Plessis too?

  If they had, then the only person left to stand against them was Potgieter …

  But what about Phiwe? What about Mr Mollard and the others? How would Kyle get rid of all those people?

  Shoot them? Slit their throats?

  No, but there were other ways, God, a dozen other ways.

  Whatever it was they would not expect it, would be at his mercy.

  And the helicopter would be theirs.

  The thought of what Kyle and Jake would do to May and Mark and the people back at the club made him set his jaw in determination.

  He glanced around.

  In the time it had taken him to clearly understand what would happen once he had complied with Jake’s wishes, they had driven halfway up the main road. He had to get Kyle and Jake as far away from the club as possible, as far away from Boston as he could.

  Into the country, he thought, out into the snow where they wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone.

  Think, damn it, he said to himself. Think.

  He tried to come up with something as he circled the deserted tractor that was now just a mere hump in the snow.

  The single working headlight barely lit up the smooth wide strip of road that he had cleared only a few hours earlier on his way collect supplies with Phiwe. It illuminated the farmers’ exchange for a few seconds, and then they were out of the village and plunging into the darkest night David could remember.

  The darkness would help, he thought to himself, but if he was going to do something he would have to do it quickly. He didn’t know what time it was, but he sensed he had little time left till dawn. He and Mark had arrived with the second load of passengers in the early evening. They had spent a good part of that night settling everyone into the club before he and Phiwe had gone off to collect the supplies for the people out at Elandskrans and the antibiotics for the boy. His heart sank. In the confusion he had forgotten about them – Anri and Miriam and Michelle MacFarlane. He couldn’t let Kyle and Jake get to them as well.

  And the people out at Elandskrans? They were safe at least, he thought, out of harm’s way. But how long would they last without the supplies he had promised?

  They topped the rise that led out of the valley and started out into the pitch-black of the farmlands.

  It was difficult to see in the poor light provided by the single headlamp, and the last time he had cleared this road with the plough had been earlier that afternoon. At least another ten centimetres of snow had fallen since then. The way was obscured, the fencing on either side of the road almost obliterated by drifting snow. The occasional telephone pole was all that w
as left to mark his course. He began to worry that he would soon lose his way. If he did, Kyle would think he had done it on purpose, would think David was trying to lead them astray intentionally, was trying to set a trap.

  How was he going to convince them otherwise, he wondered, but as it was he didn’t have to.

  A few seconds later the gun was jabbed in his side, and he was ordered to stop.

  David slowed the grader and then brought it to a shuddering halt.

  ‘Get down,’ Kyle yelled at David over the throaty idle of the engine and the whine of the wind as it whistled around the cab.

  David got down, Kyle watching him carefully.

  Kyle banged on the horsebox door. ‘We’re changing,’ Kyle shouted out to Jake, unscrewing the gun’s silencer.

  The horsebox door opened and Jake climbed out.

  ‘Your turn,’ Kyle told him. ‘I’m freezing.’

  Jake nodded and left the horsebox. David watched Kyle as he pocketed the silencer. He supposed he wouldn’t need it out here.

  Kyle tucked the gun into the waistband of his trousers. Then he looked into the night sky doubtfully. ‘It’s starting to get light,’ he said. ‘Let’s get going.’

  David hadn’t noticed before, but he saw it was true. The darkness wasn’t as deep, the light from the headlamp not as stark against the snow ahead.

  ‘We on the right road?’ Jake asked Kyle.

  Kyle looked at David. ‘We’d better be,’ he said. ‘Or someone will pay …’

  He left the threat hanging as he climbed into the horsebox and slammed the door.

  Jake gave David a shove back towards the cab. ‘Let’s get going again, pal,’ he ordered. ‘It’s cold out here.’

  David was careful as he climbed back into the cab. Jake had the knife in his side and he could feel the sharp tip of it through his jacket and shirt.

  ‘Go,’ Jake said, settling himself in much the same position as Kyle had taken up.

  David drove carefully so as not to get bogged down. They must have had three feet of snow by now, he thought. Would anyone be able to survive in that?

  They would be at the crossroads soon, the irrigation canal was looming ahead.

  And then it came to him …

  A way out …