by Tara Gabor
Kyle closed the door behind them.
“Let me see if we can start her up again,” he said. He felt like he was working from memory, probably in shock from the accident, but he put the bus into first gear and turned the key. The engine bubbled to life and hummed, the heater began delivering warm air, and the men huddled nearby.
“I can’t thank you enough,” Kyle began. “I don’t know what I would have done if you had not stopped to help. Let me show my appreciation somehow.”
He put the bus in neutral, set the brake, and busied himself gathering dental supplies into four separate bags. The men moved closer to the heater and rubbed their hands.
“Please take these bags and let me drive you somewhere warm.”
“No need. Have a safe trip down the mountain,” David answered. The others made no comment.
“I can’t just leave you out here, after you helped me. I insist.” He held his arms out with the small plastic bags of dental supplies. The group of four men in front of him reminded him of something else, but he was having trouble identifying what it was.
“Let me drive you to a phone. I need to make a call myself.”
“No phone close by. No store. No gas station. Nothing for miles, back in town.”
“Right. The church has one, but they are probably closed up by now. The cafe might still be opened.”
David looked straight at Kyle. His expression was mild while he studied Kyle’s face.
“What cafe is that?”
“Oh, the little place where I had breakfast. Not sure I remember the name. I’m a bit shook up, but they should rename it, ‘The Great Appalachian Heist Cafe’ now.” Kyle spoke absently, remembering the morning. “They have a pay phone. I used it earlier. We could be there in a few minutes.”
“Not sure going back up the mountain is such a good idea. We’ve been hunting in the woods all day and we know the storm is getting bad. Best idea is for us is to be on our way. The young men have personal business to finish here. But I will take you up on a ride down to Lexington.” David passed a look at the other three men.
Jed started at his father’s words. His mouth flew open to protest, but his father’s look halted the words.
“Sure, sure, that’s the least I can do. I will appreciate the company actually, after all that has happened today.”
“Of course,” David said, making his voice soothing. “Let’s get going before we get snowed in.”
He ushered the other three men out the door. As Kyle arranged himself in the driver’s seat and checked his mirrors, David spoke softly to the rest of his gang.
“Look, it’s better this way. I’ll go to Lexington tonight. In the morning, Guy should go in one direction and you two best get back home to Momma. You need to go back and check in with Jasper. Like normal, got that? Like everything is just normal.”
He didn’t wait for their agreement. He stepped back into the bus and closed the door. Guy led the way back towards the cabin with the wood-burning stove and the women. Jed and James followed, dragging their feet until the bus pulled out onto the road and started down the mountain.
Chapter 13
David sat in the chair at the table behind Kyle. The bus was not warm, but the heater was churning out a thin stream of warm air, combating the cold wind swirling outside, and one of two people David worried about was heading away from anyone concerned about the morning’s robbery. David had not recognized Kyle right away. During the robbery, he had concentrated on the waitress and Jed, who pretended to have a firearm, not the customer sitting at the table. The man had not caused any trouble. They were in and out in a few minutes. Chances were good that this man had no more details about them then they had of him. David was just as happy not to give Kyle an opportunity to mention his accident and an encounter with four men on a lonely stretch of mountain road. David felt content that Kyle had not recognized them as the men from the robbery.
His comfort and optimism was short-lived, evaporating within a mile, just as the bus finished the next bend. A heavy accumulation of snow had gathered along a thin, high ridge, sticking to an old American chestnut tree, a hundred foot tall specimen weakened by chestnut blight and ready to surrender its ghost as so many other chestnut trees had during the original blight at the turn of the twentieth century. A thick, un-passable pile of wood covered the road, difficult for a man to climb let alone a bus to traverse.
Kyle stopped the bus feet away from the formidable obstacle glistening in the headlights. David’s comfortable posture gave way to stoic stiffness. David’s wish for a carefree getaway vanished with the life of the chestnut blocking their path, leaving him with a dilemma of dealing with a potential witness. David registered neither surprise nor dismay at this turn of fortune.
Kyle jumped up and left the bus to inspect the problem. David watched him through the window. Kyle marched from one end of the obstruction to the other, kicking the nearest huge piece of wood. The tree trunk did not budge. The bus was not going anywhere in this direction.
“We’ll have to head back up the mountain,” Kyle said as he climbed into the bus. “We cannot move that debris even if your friends were here to help.”
“I hate to hear that,” David answered; his voice was soft.
Kyle sat in the driver’s seat and prepared to turn the bus around.
“No need to worry. We can sleep in the bus if necessary. The University included a sleeping bag or two for just such an emergency as this. But I need a phone. My wife will be worried.”
“Short leash?”
“Short? No, well, she’s pregnant. Pregnant women worry more than usual, don’t they?”
“I reckon they do. My wife did.”
“You have children. So you know.” Kyle turned the key, the engine rumbled to life.
“I know we can’t go back to town.”
“It’s fine. The bus is running. I just need to find a way to turn us around. Then we can head back up the road. It is not dark yet. Hopefully we will find someone open. If nothing else, the nearest police station should be manned, don’t you think?”
“Yes, of course,” David nodded.
“Your family must be worried about you as well,” Kyle continued. “We will report this road blockage. In the morning, the snow will melt and a crew will be out here to clear the path and I will be happy to take you down the mountain. You don’t have to worry.”
“No, I won’t worry,” David said, and he raised his arm, hitting Kyle in the back of the head with the arm for the portable X-ray machine. Kyle slumped from the chair onto the floor. David left him in an awkward position, facedown, arms askew, but taking the keys to the bus with him.
The air was bitter cold, near freezing. Flakes of snow swirled softly around his head, but melted on his arms and the ground. David took the handkerchief from his back pocket and wrapped it around his mouth and ears, just as he had earlier in the day during the robbery. Four hundred yards up the deserted road David began his call again, one long, low whistle followed by three shorter, higher whistles. He jogged a few yards and repeated the call, again and again. He heard the return call and waited, cupping his hands around his mouth to blow on them.
He did not like the twist of events. The dentist seemed like a square enough individual, but he posed a problem for David and his family. The man was sure to talk the first chance he had. That put the four of them, David, his sons, and Guy, in the vicinity of the holdup. It wouldn’t take police long to find Rose and her house of harlots. David could not put trust in their discretion. It would have been far better had they never laid eyes on the dentist fella. For all the trouble he had gone through today, holding up the restaurant, watching the boys squander money on young whores, then helping a potential witness out of a jam, David only had cold hands and empty pockets to show for it. Life was not dealing fair with him, and his thoughts were dark and mean-spirited when he caught sight of three shapes moving down the mountain in the dimming daylight.
Chapter 14
&n
bsp; Kyle’s eyes slowly opened, and he gasped to find the floor so close to his face, his left arm uncomfortably pinned beneath his body, and the back of his head throbbing from a blow he knew must have occurred. He blinked several times. Where was his passenger? Kyle couldn’t hear anyone. He slowly raised himself into a sitting position, leaning against the driver’s seat, the back of his head resting on the edge of the cushion. He reconstructed his situation, recalling the obstacles blocking the road. He had wanted to turn the bus around and head back up the mountain, find a phone and safe haven for the night. He had said as much to his passenger, the bus started up, then wham, he was hit from behind. He could not explain it. He had only offered to carry the man down the mountain, and then when that proved impossible, he offered the only logical course of action. What had so alarmed his passenger that he hit Kyle unconscious?
Kyle lowered his head back further on the cushion and closed his eyes. He would like to rest here, wait for someone to come and offer assistance. His eyes opened again. Who could he expect out here in the cold on a lonely mountain road? He had better take care of himself.
Kyle slowly climbed to a standing position. He felt the back of his head. Finding no blood, he decided he was more or less healthy and capable of driving the bus. He looked around, just in case his passenger was injured as well and there was another explanation for what had happened. He was alone in the dental lab. Apparently, his erstwhile rider had attacked him and then fled.
Kyle sat back in the driver’s seat, but when he reached for the keys, he found they were not in the ignition. He searched the floor space and the dashboard, checked his pockets, but it occurred to him that the keys had left the bus along with his unnamed attacker.
Kyle’s choices seemed to be dwindling. He could remain in the bus, out of the cold, and wait for help or morning, whichever arrived first, or he could brave the elements and be proactive. Perhaps there was a reasonable explanation, perhaps he was hit by accident, and the man left to find assistance, intending to return. Accident seemed unlikely. Since the keys had gone with him, Kyle could assume the man did intend to return, but he could not trust the head blow was anything other than a sneak attack.
Staying in the bus until whatever happened was not appealing. Kyle rummaged through the small storage area beneath the tabletop, the area where he knew he would find the sleeping bags. He also found two blankets, a small pillow, a pair of gloves and a wool facemask. Pleased with the find, Kyle put on the gloves, finding them a good fit, but the gloves hindered putting the face covering on. Kyle took the gloves off, dropping them on the bench seat, in order to pull on the facemask. He flung one of the blankets around his shoulders before putting the gloves back on.
Kyle opened the door and stepped out, insulated from the cold air by the found clothing. He walked to the front of the bus, looking over the debris blocking the road one more time. There was nothing for it; the Chestnut limbs blocking the road were massive, movable only by a road crew, and he was in for a long walk. His stomach growled, letting him know dinnertime had come and gone, images of breakfast, his last hot meal hours ago, flitted across his inner eye. His stomach growled again.
Breakfast was lukewarm, what with the robbery.
Kyle knelt down to check the ties on his sneakers before starting his long walk, grateful itinerant dentists were not required to wear dress shoes. He was ready to stand up when he heard approaching voices, muffled but lifted on the cold evening air. Kyle peeked over the hood of the bus. The sun hung low in the west, and the light was subdued, but sufficient for Kyle to make out the group of four heading his way. Seeing the foursome, Kyle realized who they were.
The Great Appalachian Cafe Heist gang!
Their identity seemed obvious. How had he missed it? The ringleader had helped after the crash, even calling in the rest of the gang whose combined muscle had freed the bus. They weren’t all bad, then.
Now, he wondered, what did they want of him?
Kyle remained crouched at the front of the bus, hidden unless someone came all the way around. The voices remained muffled and unintelligible, though they sounded animated. Kyle could make out separate voices, but the words were unclear, until they were uncomfortably close.
Chapter 15
David did not feel the cold in spite of his light jacket, thin socks, and bare hands. Resentment coursed through his veins, warming him from within. Life played its tricks, he felt, refusing him success. He had been forced to resort to robbery, taking from people he did not resent, or even know, but who had more money than he. Still, the robberies had resulted in meager gain, and now some college-boy dentist could call the law, giving descriptions of their faces and their last known whereabouts, which could lead to the floozies.
“The ladies won’t say nothin’ for sure,” Jed assured his father.
“Those harlots will tell all they know for a warm look from any man who talks nice to ‘em. We need to make sure preppie dentist don’t make it back up the mountain till we have time to get. By God, I hope you boys didn’t use your rightful names with them whores.”
A protest began in James’ throat at his father’s continuing harsh characterization of the girls, but stalled when Guy punched his ribs.
“I told ‘em we were all in my band, excepting you were our manager. Women like musicians,” Guy boasted. He had told Ruth he was the singer and songwriter of the band, including James and Jed as band members. He described the large venues the band usually played in Louisville, Lexington, even Cincinnati and Dayton. The more Ruth listened the more Guy spun his tale, recounting a fiction about touring the mountaintop for local banjo players for inspiration, even singing a few bars from a song he created for her, improvising softly in her ear.
He wished he had mentioned his story to Jed and James so they could have embellished, but he assumed they were too shy to talk much to the women anyway.
“Think they bought that lame story? Where your instruments at, then?”
“I thought of that. I told her we didn’t haul our fine instruments around with us, we jammed on borrowed stuff.”
They were nearing the bus, and David motioned his arm downward, signaling to walk and speak softly. Kyle remained hidden at the front of the vehicle, now able to make out the last few sentences.
“You helped this fella, pa. Might he agree to forget a-seeing us if we give him his money back?” James asked, seeing no conflict of conscience. They had helped him when he was in trouble. Why not expect the same from him?
“Can’t trust no preppie college-learned dentist from town to help out briars like us. He’ll spill his guts to the first lawman he sees as fast as those tarts up the hill.” David spoke out of conviction, and Kyle recognized the bitterness in his voice.
The group stopped a few steps from the door. David paused to think.
“Want us to tie him up good?” Jed asked. “We can put a gag in his mouth. Eventually he’ll get found, but we can get long gone.”
“We can push him over the side of the mountain. It’ll look like he got stranded by the landslide and fell trying to work it out. Being from the city, it’ll look natural enough,” Guy suggested, unaware his voice carried easily to where Kyle hid out of their sight.
David reached for the door handle and thought of his younger son, James.
“Maybe we can tie him up. The law knows about the holdup by now. We just need time to scatter,” David said over his shoulder, avoiding James’ eyes.
Eliminating the dentist would prevent descriptions of them being relayed to the police, though a dead body could send the police canvassing everyone on the mountainside. Their situation was grave. He would do whatever he needed to do to secure his family’s safety, even killing a man. Right now he did not see a clear advantage to it. They were robbers. They had not threatened anyone, let alone harm anyone. If they could just get away and leave a cold trail, the cops would soon go on to more important business. Killing would escalate their importance in the eyes of the law and traumatize J
ames, who was a gentle soul as his mother often affirmed. James avoided wringing a chicken’s neck for their dinner, never went hunting with his brother or other men, ate sparingly of meat, preferring fish and lots of vegetables from the garden. He was the sensitive son, and he looked up to both his older brother and his father who felt the admiration as both a weight and an inspiration.
“You boys look for rope or something suitable to tie this fella up with. We’ll warm up inside and than make our leave.”
David opened the door, expecting to find Kyle still unconscious at the foot of the driver’s seat.
Kyle had heard enough. To head back up the mountain would require going past the bus. That way was too risky. He doubted he could outrun them. He looked behind him in the growing gloom, past the fallen debris blocking the road. He would have to head down the mountain. There was no town for five miles, a village where evening brought closed doors and peaceful sleep. He thought he remembered passing a building, a neighborhood store. He would have to head for that and hope the store remained open or was equipped with an outside pay phone.
Kyle turned, still hunched down, and softly took a step and then another. He heard David’s loud cry and a racket when the other men scampered into the bus.
“He knows I’m gone,” Kyle thought, a rush of panic chilled him.
He picked up his pace. He cleared the fallen chestnut and headed for the cover of foliage. He feared the steep drop, but the other side of the road afforded no chance of concealment. He stepped gingerly, hugging the road.
Behind him, the men poured out of the bus, scattering in every direction looking for him. Kyle took several steps down the mountain grade where a large oak offered a chance at hiding him. He ducked behind the wide tree trunk, making himself low to the ground.