42

It was the strong chemical smell which drew Vicki out of the fog of unconsciousness. She opened her eyes to find she was pinned beneath the hulking dead body of the large man she had shot minutes earlier. The bus was lying partially on its side with Vicki pressed against the window beneath her. Her lower body was crushed beneath the weight of the body, which was leaking blood and fluids on to her jeans.

Twisting her head to one side, she felt a searing pain rip down the left side of her upper body. She tried to shift the man away from her, but was unable to move her right arm.

A glance to the side revealed the steel-handled blade was still embedded in her arm only deeper than before. Using her left arm she tried gripping the headrest to pull her lower body free. It was useless; his weight too much for her one limb to carry. She sobbed in pain and rage, then gripped the seat and tried again. Her legs shifted a little, and Vicki whimpered.

That was when she realised that someone was staring at her. The elderly man who had been sitting in the opposite seat was now standing over her. There was a strange expression on his face - a mixture of fascination and contempt.

‘Please … I can’t move,’ she said.

‘I doubt your struggle will do much good. You hideous little cunt!’ He then spat on her. ‘I’d cut your throat right now, like I’ve done to silence my injured colleagues, but not you - I’d much prefer you suffered and screamed. It’s such a beautiful and pure sound. Language is a mongrel tongue, corrupted by every civilisation, but our screams remain pure and honest.’

As he spoke, the elderly man began to pour fluid from a brown medicine bottle all over the surrounding seats. Vicki closed her eyes, and heard the scratch of a wooden match as the scent of sulphur filled the air. She opened her stinging eyes to see the nearby seats covered in bright, dancing flames.

As the man struggled down through the mangled bus, he laughed, and called back to her. ‘When the fat man lying across your legs begins to burn, his body will melt into yours and you’ll be fused with him forever. I think Wendell would have liked that idea. They say burning is the worst way to die you know,’ he said gleefully. ‘I’d love to stay and watch, but I have dark business to do, and promises to keep.’

Vicki closed her eyes, and let the steady crackling sounds of the fire taking hold fill her head. A hot drip of molten plastic hissed angrily by her ear, close enough to scorch her shoulder. Without opening her eyes, she silently brushed the melted disc off her blistered skin.

A strange veil descended over her mind as she accepted her fate. She had embarked on the mission for Laurie, to find her killer, and punish them. In that respect, her work was done. It was okay the journey was now over.

As she slipped further out of consciousness, and into some black void, Vicki hoped to encounter Laurie. More than that, she hoped to reach out in the gloom, and possibly find her father. In her mind, the sound of the flames taking hold became the comforting sound of the ocean; her surroundings blurred into the scorching sand, in which Vicki felt herself buried in the hot sand … sinking deeper and deeper.

Somewhere in the confines of the bus, she sensed a presence.

‘Vicki, I’m here for you. It’s okay,’ the voice said softly.

I know, Vicki thought, you’re in the darkness here with me.

‘You need to help me,’ the distant voice said, ‘I need you to open your eyes.’

Vicki wanted to stay in the warm, safe abyss, but her eyes opened to find Leighton looking at her, his face soot covered, skin bleeding, and eyes concerned. She realised he had somehow, extinguished the fire and dragged the heavy man off her legs.

‘Hey there,’ he patiently urged. ‘I need you to reach up to me. Can you do that?’

‘We were right,’ she said softly.

‘I know.’ Leighton nodded. ‘But, you need help Vicki, so you must reach for me, okay? Do you think you can do that?’

Vicki slowly raised her left arm towards the retired detective, who gripped her wrist, and drew her safely towards him.

Once she was out of the confinement of the seat, Vicki could see for herself the carnage surrounding her. More than a dozen bodies were as she had been – crushed or pinned against the windows on the driver’s side. A couple of them who had been wearing seatbelts remained strapped into their seats. Almost all of them had their throats cut.

‘Come on,’ Leighton said, as he slipped a supportive arm around her waist. ‘This way.’

He guided her towards the burst skylight on the ceiling he had stepped through, but struck by a sudden thought, Vicki reached back to where the large man lay, and yanked the cluster of collected rings off his neck.

By the time Leighton had half-dragged and half-carried Vicki back up to the dusty road, she was struggling to remain conscious. Her shirt was nothing more than a slick vertical puddle, which seemed to be wicking away her blood. Leighton had hoped to drive Vicki directly to the nearest hospital then hand himself in, but when they reached the road, they discovered the police car was gone.

‘Shit!’ Leighton kicked at the ground.

‘The last one escaped,’ Vicki slurred, without fully opening her eyes. ‘He started the fire on the bus.’

‘It’s okay,’ Leighton said. ‘The road is a dead end, and the police will be here soon.’

Wincing against his own pain, Leighton helped Vicki to sit on the dusty roadside. He then sat beside her, with one supportive arm around her shoulder. Vicki tapped weakly at his leg, and he looked at her. She still had her eyes closed, but she began to speak.

‘You came through, Leighton - you saved me.’

‘No, miss,’ he said softly. ‘I think it’s the other way around. But, just you rest.’

It was at that moment the orange jeep swerved towards them. It screeched to stop, and a wild haired man stumbled out of it.

‘Are you, Jones?’ he called across to Leighton, who nodded cautiously.

‘Where’s the bus?’

‘What?’

‘They took my wife! Where’s the damned bus? I’ve been scanning the police channels. You said it was here!’

‘The bus is down there.’ Leighton nodded to the ravine. ‘But, there’s no woman on it.’

Mike Bernal grasped his skull, pacing backwards and forwards in desperation.

‘Listen,’ Leighton said calmly. ‘Somebody from the bus got away. They took the car I was using. Maybe they took her.’

‘Fuck!’ Mike kicked at the dusty jeep.

‘This road doesn’t go anywhere, other than to a couple of farm buildings. They can only be a few minutes ahead of us.’

‘Okay.’ Mike nodde with renewed hope, and started back towards the jeep.

‘She’ll have a better chance of surviving, if we come with you,’ Leighton said, as he helped Vicki to her feet. ‘I think I can help.’

43

Janey had only just started on her journey along the dusty track, when she saw the approaching police car, and felt the sudden deluge of hot tears drench her face. She turned around and ran back towards the house, waving wildly with one arm while covering her breasts with the other. The car pulled up in front of the farmhouse and screeched to a stop.

As the dust settled around the hot vehicle, a small, elderly looking detective got out of the car and glanced all around, before walking sternly towards the woman. The strange expression on his face, suggested he was both surprised and bemused by Janey’s appearance.

‘Thank god you’re here,’ she blurted, tears of relief already washing over her grazed face, ‘My name is Janey Burnal, and I was abducted. There was this bus, like a Greyhound, I was drugged and taken here, and-’