‘That’s what I was afraid you were thinking.’
‘Don’t worry, Lee, I’ll drive the bus for this one.’
‘We’re talking crash-and-burn here, aren’t we?’
‘Got it in one, Lee. Got it in one.’
Carswell laughed with disbelief when he heard Sam’s plan.
The bus stood facing the entrance of the gorge where the remaining Bluebeard forces had taken refuge. On the bus Carswell, Zita, Lee, Jud and Sam were holding a council of war.
Every so often Sam would glance out at the line of soldiers and Liminals who stood at the entrance of the gorge, ready to try and prevent any breakout. Not that their chances would be over-favourable now. They were running low on ammunition. Many of the soldiers were wounded; all were exhausted. As Zita observed, this was the Last Chance Saloon. A flurry of snowflakes dimmed the line. If it fell any heavier, visibility would be reduced to virtually nil.
Meanwhile, Carswell was still making the most of his dry, humourless laugh.
‘Mr Baker, you mean to say,’ he said, ‘that you intend getting onto that bus and driving it alone into the narrowest part of the pass, where you will then set it alight?’
‘I am, Carswell.’
‘What then?’
‘Then either the Bluebeards roast in there or they make use of what, after all, is a temporal fire exit back into the dim and distant past.’
‘No, Mr Baker. I mean what do you do then?’
‘I run back here as fast as these two legs can carry me.’
‘Your optimism is astonishing. From where I’m standing your plan is nothing less than a suicide mission.’
‘It’s a chance I’m going to have to take.’
‘Oh, I see… Playing the little people’s champion again, are we?’
‘Carswell—’
‘If you’re not killed by the fire, those barbarians are going to rip you limb from limb.’
Sam acknowledged the statement with a grim shrug. ‘You’re welcome to ride shotgun with me, Carswell.’
‘Ah, no. I’m going to decline. I think I’ve done more than enough for the little people. It’s time for me to leave now and enjoy the fruits of my labours.’
Lee said, ‘Sam, I’ll drive.’
‘No, Lee. This is my idea. If anyone’s going to stick their neck out it’s—’
‘No, Sam. I know how to handle the bus. You don’t. You’ve got to let me drive.’
Sam considered for a moment. ‘Okay. Thanks, Lee. I appreciate it… Wait, Lee.’
Lee had opened the doorway to the timbered driver’s compartment.
‘You’re not going alone,’ Sam told him. ‘Those devils will probably rush the bus the moment you enter the gorge. I’ll ride up front with a couple of rifles.’
‘Those will be pretty cumbersome,’ Carswell said. ‘You’d best take these.’ He handed Sam a pair of automatics, then gave one of his characteristic dry smiles. ‘Happy Christmas, Sam.’
‘They’re loaded?’
‘They are. Eight rounds apiece. Also I’ve used Glazier Safety Slugs. Basically they explode inside the target’s body. One slug can bring down a charging bull.’
‘Thanks, Carswell, I appreciate… Wait. Where are you going?’
‘Oh, Mr Baker, I’ve been here more than long enough, and now I have some more fish to fry. Good luck and goodbye.’ With that he climbed down from the bus, pulled his collar up against the falling snow and walked steadily away in the direction of Casterton.
Jud sighed. ‘It was too much to expect him to await the outcome of this, I expect.’
‘We don’t need him anymore,’ Sam said briskly. ‘Right, let’s finish this once and for all. Jud, what’re you doing?’
‘You’ll need someone to chuck a grenade or two.’
‘Maybe, but not you, Jud.’
‘But – ’
‘But nothing. When that bus starts to burn we’re going to have to run like hell. How are you going to run with that injured leg?’
‘But you still need more people to ride shotgun. Those Bluebeards are going to be swarming aboard like rats the first chance they get.’
‘He’s right.’ The voice came from behind Sam and he turned.
‘Ryan?’
Ryan Keith stood with his double-barrelled shotgun over one arm. ‘I want to help.’
Sam looked Ryan up and down. All signs of the chubby kid who had played the Oliver Hardy role were long gone now. He looked calm, cool, collected.
Sam gave a nod. ‘Lee drives. Ryan and I are going to repel boarders. Okay, let’s do it.’
Zita and Thomas Hather also offered to ride along. Sam firmly refused their offers.
Deep down he knew why. Carswell was probably right, damn him. This might well turn out to be a suicide mission after all.
Sam intended taking the bus that, to all intents and purposes, was now nothing more than a huge firebomb on wheels into the narrowest part of the gorge.
Somehow they had to get clear of the thing as it began to burn, then run back to their own lines at the mouth of the gorge.
And that would be with some mightily pissed-off Bluebeards hard on their heels.
‘Ryan, are you okay?’
Ryan nodded and took up his position at the right-hand side of the bus. He pulled the hammers back on the shotgun. Behind him, wedged the full length and width of the bus’s deck, were the barrels of wood alcohol. Sprinkled liberally over those were 50 or so grenades.
Quite a nice little firework cocktail it all makes, Sam told himself as he pushed the automatics into his belt.
‘See you in ten minutes,’ he said to Zita, touching her cheek.
‘Make it five, you big lummox.’ She tried to force a smile, but only managed to make her lips twitch.
‘God go with you, Sam,’ Hather said and shook his hand. Sam nodded. Behind him, Lee fired the bus’s big diesel motor into life.
Quickly he climbed onto the bus and slapped the driver’s timbered compartment twice. Move it on out.
The engine bellowed and they were moving forward through the line of soldiers, and then between the cliff walls of the gorge itself.
Sam was aware of Zita, Hather, Rolle, Jud and the rest watching them go. He didn’t look back now.
Ahead the gorge was nothing more than a narrow channel cut by a million years of rainwater. Snow covered the ground.
Here there were only a few bushes and saplings. But deeper into the gorge he knew it became thickly wooded.
Sam had told Lee to drive as far as he could before the trees stopped the bus. In theory the Bluebeards would be penned there in front of him in the couple of hundred yards or so of gorge that remained.
What would happen then God alone knew.
‘Take it nice and steady,’ he shouted to Lee as the bus flattened saplings. ‘I think we’ve got company.’
‘Dear Lord, help them,’ Thomas said under his breath.
‘I’ll second that,’ Zita said. She put her arm around him. The man was trembling like a frightened child.
She watched as the bus disappeared into the swirling blizzard. Now all she could hear was the growl of the motor.
She stared into the snow, willing her vision to penetrate that wall of white. But she could see nothing.
Seconds later the sound of gunshots reached her.
A dozen or so Bluebeards ran at the bus and began hurling rocks.
One glanced off Sam’s shoulder as he hung onto the window frame.
Behind him he heard the deep thuds of Ryan’s shotgun.
Two of the attackers fell back onto the snow.
Now Sam drew one of the automatics from his belt as a giant of a man armed with a spear ran in front of the bus.