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Days Of Perdition: Voodoo Plague Book 6 Page 6
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Katie opened the rear driver’s side door and had to shift some more supplies so she could search for the jack. She didn’t see one, but kept looking. After several minutes she forced open a large, plastic panel and there was a sturdy scissor jack clamped securely in place. She’d had to put the phone down to pry open panels and when she snatched it up to talk to Steve she could hear him shouting her name even before she lifted the handset to her ear.
“I’m here,” She said. “What’s wrong?”
“You’ve got two Jeeps coming up behind you. At least two occupants in each one, but the tops are up so I can’t get a good look or see if there’s any more people in them.”
“How close?” Katie raised her head to look up at the crest where she’d spent the night, afraid she would see the front end of a vehicle nosing over and starting down the fire road toward where she was stuck.
“They’re making the climb you made before you stopped for the night. That has slowed them a little, but if they keep coming you’ve got maybe twenty minutes before they can see you.”
“Shit! OK, stay on the phone. I’m going to see what I can do with the jack.”
Katie tossed the phone on the front seat and reached for the jack, pausing when she realized she needed to plug the handset into the charger so it didn’t die while she was working. The last thing she wanted was to be completely alone out here.
Satellite phone batteries charging, she yanked the jack out of the clips holding it in place and dashed to the narrow space between the rear tire and the edge of the wash. Shoving the heavy tool through ahead of her, she crawled through on her belly, looking at the truck’s suspension. Settling for the left side bracket where the shocks were bolted on, she squirmed the jack around on the ground until she felt it was stable.
Unfolding the crank she turned it, the threaded rod pulling half the scissor towards her, which pushed the top closer to the bottom of the bracket. Cranking as fast as she could, the handle stopped moving when the top of the jack met the resistance of the weight of the truck. Cursing, Katie shifted herself around so she could exert more force. The crank began turning again, but slower than she would have liked.
The foot of the jack began to compress into the dirt, but only sank in a couple of inches before the truck began to move. Suppressing a cry of excitement, Katie turned the rod as hard as she could, willing the mechanism to move faster. Not watching the rod, she was surprised when it suddenly came to a stop, her hand slipping off. She had reached the limit of the jack.
Looking at what she’d accomplished, Katie cursed. The jack had been designed to lift a truck sitting on pavement just high enough to change a flat tire. A tire much shorter than the big off-road tires John had put on the Ford. She had succeeded in lifting the left rear side of the truck no more than four inches, and as far as she could tell the bumper was still firmly embedded in the ground.
Scrabbling backwards, she stood up and grabbed the phone. “I’ve raised it as far as it will go, but the bumper didn’t move,” she said into the phone. “Where are the Jeeps?”
“Five minutes from the crest on the far side,” he said.
“Goddamn it, what do I do?” She asked, not really expecting an answer so much as voicing her frustration.
“Do you have a tool kit?”
“What? Why?”
“A tool kit? Do you have one?” He asked again.
“Hold on,” Katie pulled the charging cord out of the phone so she could stay connected with Steve as she went to the back of the truck.
Climbing up the side of the wash she then stepped up onto the tailgate and frantically threw supplies out of her way. John was someone who was rarely caught unprepared, especially if he’d had an opportunity to plan for something. Two heavy canvas bags were stashed at the front of the bed, and the first one she unzipped was full of greasy tools.
“Yes, there are tools. Why?” She couldn’t help looking up at the crest to make sure she hadn’t already been spotted.
“Get back under the truck. The bumper shouldn’t have more than four bolts holding it to the frame. If you can undo them, you’re free!” Steve was excited and speaking fast. “Just be careful. There’s going to be a lot of pressure on the bumper and you don’t know which way it will go when you release it.”
Katie was already moving, shoving the phone into her pocket and lifting the bag with both hands, dropping it over the side of the truck. Jumping down she crawled back under the truck, dragging the bag with her. It only took a moment for her to find the bolts Steve was talking about, and he was right about there only being four of them.
Digging through the tool bag she started trying sockets until finding one that was the right size, then spent another few precious minutes finding the right ratchet to match. She had to pause and think about which way would loosen, finally falling back on the helpful rhyme of ‘righty tighty, lefty loosey’.
Ratchet set properly, she grabbed the steel handle and pulled with all her strength, sweat popping out from the exertion, but the bolt didn’t budge. She stopped for a moment and took a couple of deep breaths, then tried again without any better luck. Wanting to scream in frustration she forced herself to calm down and fished the phone out of her pocket.
“I can’t move them. They’re too tight!” She said.
“Is there a breaker bar in the tool bag? It’s going to have a connection on the end like the ratchet, but it will be long and heavy. If not that, then a long pipe that can slip over the ratchet so you’ve got more leverage.”
Katie set the phone down and frantically dug through the duffel, coming up with a two foot long iron pipe that slipped over the ratchet’s handle. She wrapped her hands around the end of the pipe, took a deep breath and pulled as hard as she could. With a squeal of metal on metal the bolt gave a little. She rotated the ratchet handle a couple of clicks and pulled again, the bolt turning more, its resistance finally ending.
Jerking the pipe out of the way she used the ratchet to quickly remove the bolt and let it drop to the ground. Repeating the process she removed the next one, then realized how much time she was using and snatched the phone out of the dirt.
“Two bolts done. Where are the Jeeps?” She asked.
“They’re on top of the mountain, about a minute from the edge on your side. Keep working. They can’t come down that trail fast. They’re going to see you, but you’ve got time if you work fast.”
Dropping the phone again Katie attacked the remaining two bolts. When the fourth one broke free she caught her breath as the bumper shifted and the back of the truck dropped several inches. Hoping that was all that would happen, she carefully began turning the last bolt, squirming away from the bumper as it came free. The truck dropped another inch then stopped, the bumper crushed under the rear edge of the bed. She quickly lowered the scissor jack and yanked it out of the way.
There was a bundle of electrical wires running into the bumper, but she didn’t have time to worry about it. Scrambling from underneath the truck she tossed the phone into the cab, dropped the tools into the duffel and swung it up into the bed of the truck. Moments later she had the bed cover rolled back into place and slammed the tailgate.
Katie dashed to the open door, pausing before climbing in and looking up at the trail crest, several hundred feet above her. No vehicles were visible, but she was sure she could see two figures standing at the edge. Ignoring them, she climbed into the driver’s seat, closed the door and securely belted herself in. The first time John had taken her off-road she’d thought he was joking when he told her to keep her seatbelt on. Until the going got rough and her head hit the ceiling, then she wished she had listened to him.
Stepping on the gas the truck started rolling. There was the protest of crunching metal from the rear, then more noise as the wiring held and began dragging the bumper. It didn’t take long for it to snag on a rock, the wires ripping free and dragging on the ground as Katie bounced across the floor of the canyon.
10
Katie pushed on, the trail climbing successive ridgelines as she moved north. It was rough going, deep ruts and large rocks constantly challenging her driving skills and the truck’s capabilities. Keeping a wary eye on the gas gauge she wasn’t happy with how much fuel was being burned to cover such a short distance. Cresting another ridge, she stopped and leaving the engine idling stepped out to relieve herself. She made sure to move under a large pine tree with thick boughs so Steve couldn’t watch on the satellite.
Business attended to, Katie called Steve as she stepped to the back of the truck and looked to the south. The view was breathtaking, forested hills with canyons carved between them dropping away to the valley where Phoenix sat. By now she was a couple of thousand feet above the valley floor, and could look down on the thick haze of smoke that hung over the city.
“Where are the guys in the Jeeps?” She asked when Steve picked up.
“Just cresting the ridge to your south,” he answered. “They’re moving a little slower than you. Hard to tell on satellite, but I think one of the Jeeps isn’t really set up for any serious off-road travel and the driver is having to take it really easy.”
Finally some good news.
“How much farther do I have?” Katie asked, digging a fresh bottle of water out of the back of the truck.
“The computer shows forty one miles, but it’s just drawing a line and not taking into account the terrain. You’ve probably got close to fifty actual miles to go. At your pace you won’t be there before dark.”
Katie didn’t like hearing that answer. Not with two vehicles only a few miles behind her. The last thing she wanted to do was stop for the night and let them catch up. She also didn’t like the idea of traveling at night. The road was difficult enough to navigate with the sun shining brightly and it would be three times harder with only the truck’s lights. Deciding she’d better cover as much ground as she could while it was daylight, Katie told Steve she’d call him later and resumed her trek.
The north side of the ridge she had stopped on was the steepest descent she had ever driven, the heavy truck constantly threatening to start slipping sideways. She had no idea just how steep it really was, but was glad for the seatbelt that kept her from sliding forward off the seat. The angle had been sharp, but it was only fifteen minutes before the trail bottomed out into a shallow canyon.
Crossing the level terrain, Katie brought the truck to a stop when she came to the edge of a small stream. The water was no more than thirty feet across, but it was running swiftly and she couldn’t tell how deep it was. Living in the desert it was an almost daily occurrence during monsoon season that someone would try and drive across a flooded wash and wind up stranded and on the news being winched up from the roof of their flooded vehicle by a helicopter.
It was so common, in fact, that Arizona had passed what was called the “stupid motorist” law. If you drove into a flooded wash and had to be rescued, you would have to reimburse the cost of your rescue. Katie knew it wouldn’t take much depth in the fast moving current to push the truck downstream and was hesitant to risk the crossing.
Climbing down, she walked to the edge of the water, but still couldn’t gauge its depth. She briefly considered wading out to test it, but dismissed the idea. The streambed would be full of round, slippery rocks and it wouldn’t take much for her feet to be washed out from under her. Katie stared at the stream for almost a minute, trying to think what John would do.
With a smile at the thought of her husband she ran to the back of the truck and dug out a length of sturdy rope. Securing one end of it to the truck’s front bumper, she wrapped the other around her waist and carefully stepped into the stream.
The water was shockingly cold when it seeped into her leather boots, but she gritted her teeth and pushed on. Five feet from the edge the water was just over the tops of her boots. The push of the current was strong and Katie was having a hard time maintaining her footing, but she pushed on. At the halfway mark the water was to the bottom of her knees and every step she took she was forced further downstream. She started to go back, but realized the water could still be deeper before the far edge.
Pushing on, Katie moved slowly and deliberately, careful to stay balanced and not let her weight suddenly shift and send her plunging into the stream. She walked until she was five feet from the far shore, the depth of the water having receded back to the tops of her boots. Satisfied with her exploration, she slowly turned and began making her way back to the truck.
Wading out of the stream she quickly untied the rope and threw it back into the truck without taking the time to coil it. Shivering from the time she’d had her feet and lower legs in the icy water she stood next to the Ford and compared its clearance to where the deepest water had reached to the bottom of her knees. The lowest part of the truck’s body was level with the middle of her knees. Nothing other than the tires would be in the stream for the water to push on.
Feeling more confident, Katie climbed back into the cab and shifted into drive. Switching to four wheel low, she let the truck idle forward into the water. It moved easily, the current pushing against the wheels and splashing water into the air where it created a small rainbow. Approaching the middle of the crossing, the truck began slipping sideways from the force of the water against the tires, but Katie steered against the current and gave the engine more gas.
The tires slipped some, the truck shifting sideways more, but Katie kept the momentum on and moments later drove onto dry land. Stopping long enough to shift back into four wheel high, she continued on and was soon climbing the next ridge. She reached the top, crossed the crest and descended into the next canyon without any further drama.
The trail was just starting to rise for the next climb when the sat phone rang on the seat next to her. Stopping before leaving the canyon floor, Katie answered the phone; afraid Steve was calling with another warning.
“One of the Jeeps didn’t make it across the stream,” he said. “Current took it a hundred yards down the canyon and it’s wedged against a boulder. Don’t think you need to worry about them anymore. They can’t all fit in one Jeep.”
“That is good news,” Katie breathed a sigh of relief. “Is the Jeep that made it across still following?”
“No, he’s stopped. Looks like families in each Jeep. Right now there’s adults and a couple of kids on foot.”
This caught Katie by surprise. She hadn’t even considered any possibility other than the Jeeps were loaded down with men who were best avoided.
“What are they doing now?” She asked after a moment.
“Just standing there looking at the wrecked Jeep.”
“Will they be able to get it out?” She asked.
“Wouldn’t do them any good. It’s nose down and the whole engine is under water. No way with today’s electronics that thing will ever run again without a long visit to a repair shop.” Steve answered.
Katie thanked him for the update and ended the call. Stepping on the gas she started up the incline for the next ridge, the tallest so far, but only went a few feet before stopping. She sat thinking for a moment, then with a sigh put the truck in reverse and backed up until she came to a wide enough spot in the trail to turn around. A minute later the phone rang again.
“What are you doing?” Steve asked, sounding irritated that she had reversed course.
“I can’t leave them out here.” Katie answered. “Not if they’ve got kids with them. They’re stranded and there will probably be more people along that might not have the best of intentions.”
“Are you crazy? Just because they have kids with them doesn’t mean they won’t shoot you and take your truck. Turn around and keep going and let them worry about themselves.”
Katie knew that Steve was most likely right. She also knew that John would probably give her the same advice. But she had to live with herself and if she drove away and didn’t at least try to help these people, the idea of leaving children stranded in the wilderness would haunt he
r. Telling Steve her mind was made up she ended the call.
11
The Jeeps had been carrying two families, one with parents and three children, the other parents and two children. Katie had experienced some tense moments as she approached them. The people had heard her coming well before she got there and the two fathers had hidden their wives and kids behind a jumble of large boulders. One of them had stayed nearby while the other stood waiting for her, blocking the trail.
He was armed with a semi-automatic assault rifle, and as she approached him Katie scrutinized how he was handling the weapon. The muzzle was in front of him, pointed at the ground as she came to a stop fifty yards from where he stood. Taking a deep breath, Katie shifted into park and opened her door, careful to stay behind it as she stepped down from the cab. When the man made no threatening move she moved out into the open, seeing him visibly relax and let the muzzle drop a few inches when he realized she was a woman.
“Not a fighter,” she said to herself, knowing anyone with any degree of combat experience would never relax just because it was a woman that stepped out of the truck.
“I came back to help you,” Katie shouted, still staying close enough to dive into the truck if need be. She had her own rifle ready to go if she had to defend herself. After a few moments he glanced over his shoulder then began walking towards her.
She knew there wasn’t anyone else in the area. Steve had been keeping an eye on them while she drove, and it was just the two men with their wives and children. The man approached slowly, eyes focused on Katie. He wasn’t expecting problems and never bothered to check the surrounding area. She was mildly surprised he’d made it this far.
“How did you know we had a problem?” He had stopped ten yards in front of the truck.
“I was watching from the top of the next ridge,” Katie lied. She wasn’t ready to advertise the advantage she had with Steve keeping an eye on her from above. “Was anyone hurt?”