Читать книгу Hell's Roundabout - Benjamin Vance - Страница 4

The carnage was mind numbing. Parts of the car and passengers were spread over and into the large pines, and the smell was gut-wrenching; pine sap, bowel, blood and mechanical oil stench was everywhere. That’s because the parts of the car and what had been someone’s body or bodies were mutilated beyond belief. When one stood away and looked at the whole scene it seemed as if the car exploded horizontally, toward the tree-covered hillside. What kind of wreck or explosion had precipitated the tragedy was beyond Armond Lennox’s aptitude to comprehend. Possibilities ran through his mind; an improvised explosive device, semi-tractor explosion, hydrogen powered fuel cell eruption, propane blast; anything was possible in California.

Then he saw it; another bumper segment of a different color. After that, his eyes started picking out parts of two cars; engine parts, seat parts embedded in trees, polymer door panels wrapped around trunks and limbs. He called two volunteer Sheriff’s deputies over and gave them instructions to start building two piles of remains and two piles of car parts; had to tell one to put on his blue Nitrile gloves. Being from Texas, he thought the scene looked similar to the aftermath of an F5 tornado.

There wasn’t much snow left at his altitude and what little had come from the previous night’s storm was almost evaporated or melted already. Still, it was butt cold, but he was dressed warmly and felt relatively warm when he stopped to think on it. Actually, the reason he was shaking was due to the neural trauma of the unexplainable butchery initiated by whatever “Hell” led to the untimely death of the car’s occupants.

***

Born and raised in Lubbock; the great state of Texas had always been his home, even during his seven-year stint in the Marines. However, since his wife’s death from Lou Gehrig’s disease he’d essentially been lost, and “home” really didn’t mean much without her. It also didn’t help that his wife’s family of ingrate, inbred idiots blamed him for a disease that she’d probably inherited from them. They were unrelenting in their condemnation, so several years after the love of his life died, he quit his job as Sheriff in a thriving Texas town, sold everything he could sell, and moved him and his 11 year old son, Charley to California.

The small town of Bishop in Inyo County had everything he needed; a job, good people, natural beauty and a good trout stream to teach his son how to properly fly-fish. It also had a first-class hospital, a good airport and quality restaurants. The town always had its good side and then every summer its bad side caused mostly by tourists and bikers from Western California and Nevada. Since his arrival barely eight months earlier, he’d met many good people, including the Mayor, Simpson Maxwell who was really a farmer at heart, all the members of the Sheriff’s auxiliary force, the eight other permanent deputies and several members of the town council and of course many waitresses, store owners, teachers and residents whose pleas for assistance had been answered with a visit to homes or businesses. He hadn’t investigated a major automotive accident … until this … the butchery spread around him.

The elected Sheriff, Andy Shepard was a great guy, knew everybody and was loathe to get on the bad side of anyone. Therefore it was up to his deputies to enforce the law and from time to time get on the bad side of drunks, druggies, shoplifters, loiterers, speeders and possibly a homeless person or family passing through. Road accidents were not his cup of tea in any case. Certainly, the horror Army was presently standing among hadn’t happened in the Sheriff’s quiet town before ... had it?

When he finally regained control of his precocious vomiting reflex, we wandered over to where current Deputy-in-charge, Larry Englestein was gingerly kicking at part of a plastic car fender in a futile attempt to kick it over with the sharp toe of his Western boot. He did it that way so he wouldn’t have to get his face too close to whatever may have been lurking under it.

“Larry, you ever see anything like this? How many vehicles do you think blew up or came apart or whatever?”

“Hell, Army I’ve never seen anything like this! I’m gonna get Andy to send us a couple more guys to help out the Coroner. I’m sure glad it’s cold so this mess hopefully doesn’t start stinkin’ before we get it cleaned up. You wanna take guard tonight or do I give it to one of the other guys?”

“Yeah, I guess I can, if you give me time to get a baby sitter for Charley and get a little supper. I sure don’t want to drag him up here to see this mess. When are we going to open the roundabout again?”

“Well, I guess routing people around the entire area will have to continue to work for us ‘til we get a better handle on cleanin’ this mess up. The coroner’s guys’ve been here all morning and still haven’t found enough parts for a complete human. I’m gonna go down and talk to Les Gilbert and just see what he needs. Call your baby sitter, ‘cause I sure as shit don’t wanna sit out here tonight; this place gives me the creeps.” As he turned to go, “Thanks, Army, I owe you one.”

Lucy, the baby sitter was willing because the little thing had a crush on Army and because she needed the money to buy makeup and a present for her current boy-friend. Army and Charley had supper at Lennie’s Restaurant and Army dropped Charley and Lucy off at his apartment on the way back to the accident site. When he arrived he spoke to Les Gilbert, the Coroner and got updated on all the horrific details to include a dog having been in one of the vehicles. Les just shook his head at the grisly details.

By the time Les and his crew left to deposit their findings in a cooler and a more secure place at the morgue, it was getting dark. It got dark early in the canyon country; the sun set at about 5:30 p.m. and usually there was a spectacular sunset in November. Army watched it introspectively, as he sipped coffee and made his first walk around the large perimeter of the incident site. His patrol SUV sat at the Eastern perimeter with its lights flashing and motor idling. It would idle all night to provide a warm refuge and spot of light in the otherwise black night of the canyon country. Although penetrated by an occasional set of car lights detouring at the flashing traffic barricades, there was no darker place than a canyon with scant stars, no moon and only dark, ominous pines for company.

By the time he climbed into his SUV and stretched out his six foot, two inch frame, night was totally upon him. He tested his spot light, flashlight and night vision monocular. They all worked well. He removed his insulated winter hat, smoothed back his unruly, brown hair, snuggled down in his seat with coffee nestled in the console and dimmed out his interior lights. All he could see then were the reflections of his emergency lights on the trees, rocks and wrecked reflective vehicle parts.

He let his mind wander to the innocent people and dog killed in the horrific split-second it took to blow the vehicles to kingdom come. One moment they were alive and full of life and the next … gone literally to pieces; not a genuinely kind way to go, but quick and probably painless. Overall, not so bad, he guessed. As his mind wandered through the idiosyncrasies and possibilities of his own life, he thought he noticed a dim green light deep among the trees on the hill.

It was there for just a second, but he watched the area more intently until his eyes started playing tricks on him. He thought he’d seen something about a hundred feet to the north of the previous glow. Then, there it was again for sure, very subtle, but greenish blue, without shadows. He turned on his spotlight and shattered his night vision, but found its brightness comforting somehow. He directed it at the light source, but couldn’t see anything except more carnage and trees. He searched the hillside thoroughly and saw no light or light source at all. He felt a tingle go up his spine.

He really didn’t want to, but he quenched the spotlight and gave his brown eyes time to develop more visual purple. He reflexively pushed the door lock button on his armrest. He waited … then he saw it again; the faintest column of blue green as it danced faintly and sensuously along the hillside and then disappeared. He thought of his night vision monocular, turned it on, shut off the emergency lights and removed the covers from the eyepiece and objective lenses of the monocular. Before he got it to his eye he saw the bright shimmering revealed on his shirt and pants. He could hardly believe his eye when he looked through the scope. There were columns of light, flashes of light, balls of light and subtler indescribable visions he couldn’t comprehend. What he saw was only the light of a limited spectrum, but his mind reeled at the source and the spectacle.

He willed the eyepiece from its place over his right eye and looked blankly at the bleak darkness before him with his left. It was unbelievable. He held the scope up again and used the palm of his hand as a movie screen to watch the machinations of infra-red light reflecting from the scope. He had a whim and turned on his siren for just a second, not in his wildest dreams believing it would make a difference, but in the deep recesses of his mind hoping it would scare away the boogie man. The lights didn’t stop.

Finally getting his wits together and rationalizing there could be some biologic or perhaps fundamental geologic reason for the lights, he turned on his spot and slowly swept the hillside one last time before he turned on the emergency lights again and exited the vehicle to inspect the hillside more closely. He notified the dispatcher, locked the doors electronically and made his way around and through the wreckage toward the area behind the trees using his big flashlight on left shoulder and right hand on pistol. He approached the area where he saw the lights and saw a faint green glow quickly pass in front of him. Then it came back like a will of the wisp, seemingly just to startle him.

He walked toward its last trajectory, then saw it coming from his right. He stood his ground, but as it passed over him he felt his pistol strangely pull forward. He tightened his grip and pushed it down into its black polymer holster only to find it was already locked tightly and would still take the light pressure of his index finger to release its full potential. He stood in place and let several slivers of greenish blue and bluish green light pass over and around him. Each time his pistol and belt moved ever so slightly. It finally dawned on him he was in some sort of magnetic field, but he decided to move past the line of light and go higher up the slope. However, he did not leave the light behind; it seemed to sense and follow him.

After he’d gone about 50 yards through some young pines and entered a small grassy park among the older pine grove, he noticed he was without green ghost lights. He turned around, looked back down the hill and was treated to the most beautiful light spectacle he’d ever seen. There were even rare flashes of some red shades. The slivers, ghosts, lines, and bundles of colored light danced and pirouetted sensuously; seeming for his eyes only. They covered an area he estimated to be about six hundred feet along the side of the hill and were over a hundred feet thick from top to bottom of the slope. Some of the colored spires reached beyond the old tree tops and into the night sky toward the few beckoning stars.

Once he’d passed the lights, turned and looked down to admire the spectacle, he thought to safely release the white-knuckled grasp on his pistol. In fact he’d been unconsciously increasing the downward pressure on his pistol as he walked uphill, so when he tentatively removed his blood-starved hand, his pistol and holster pivoted rearward toward the mountain side like a compass needle. He then decided not to remain on the hill and began a calm, deliberate and entertained retreat.

About half way down through the wonderland of lights, another of his senses took over; he heard a rock clatter among the small pines and quickly flashed his light in the direction of the sound. Two big eyes and a damp black nose peered back at him and then turned to amble quietly away sporting a big striped tail and a very flat, striped body. He absent mindedly smiled and said, “Good evening Mr. Badger, I hope you’re enjoying the light show as much as I am.” Rather than reassuring, the sound of his own voice startled him and he hurried to get back to the safety of the SUV.

When he returned to his vehicle he moved it so he could watch the lights through the windshield, rather than from the driver’s side window. He dimmed the emergency lights, locked the doors again and slowly sipped his coffee while watching the muted light show through the stand of large pines; periodically checking in with Marlene, the current night dispatcher, and current link to reality.

Throughout the long night he would turn on his spotlight and sweep the hillside to make sure no one was stealing body parts and to check on Mr. Badger. He saw no humans or more badgers, and the light show slowed and then basically evaporated about 2:00 a.m. However, from time to time before sunrise he thought he caught a glimpse of green, or perhaps it was just his residual imagination or anticipation working overtime.

Two Sheriff’s vehicles arrived about 6:00 a.m. with their retinue of deputies, coffee cups and doughnuts. Larry parked close and wandered over with another younger deputy to say good morning and ask how things went during the night. Soon after they arrived, the Coroner’s van rolled in and the folks began laying out their body bags and gurneys to collect more parts. Army could tell no one was in a hurry to start the gruesome task again, but with the dim light of morning, not a lot could be seen or differentiated among the mess anyway. He was just glad the temperature dipped to freezing during the night so things could be retrieved without the smells associated with summer accident remains. He powered down the electric window as Larry walked up.

With a genuine smile Larry said, “Hey Brave heart; have any trouble last night?”

“Naw; just a nice light show on the hillside. You should’a’ been here, it was spectacular and kept me entertained almost all night.”

“Yeah, I stopped to shoot the shit with Marlene and she told me you said there were lights on the hillside. People have been seeing ‘em for years, but there’s a lot of superstition tied in with them so most people just stay away or don’t talk about ‘em much. I think the legends really stem from the Paiute Indians. They say evil spirits live in the hillside so people try to pay the lights no mind.”

“All I found was a badger. You should have seen the lights Larry; every color and combination of green, blue and red. I checked it out through the night vision scope thinking it was maybe some kids playing around, but they were twice as bright through the scope. There must be every wave of light in the electromagnetic spectrum. Has anyone ever done a survey up here to see what causes the lights?”

Larry looked at him like he’d bitten the head off a rat, “What the hell for? There’s a lot more to do around here than chase lights.”

“Like what; eating doughnuts and fishing in Anderson’s trout pond?”

“Like talking to Marlene for instance or takin’ her out to eat or to a movie sometime. Why don’t you show some interest in some of the beautiful women around here. That waitress over at Louise’s Restaurant is really pretty and smart and about your age, and I saw her hittin’ on you that time.”

Armond responded, “I’m still too raw Larry, and trying to raise a kid who’s turning 12. Speaking of kids I’d better get home and rescue him from Lucy. You need the SUV today? I can have Marlene run me home and give me a shower while she’s there if you like.”

Larry smiled and pushed on Army’s shoulder good heartedly, “You jackass, you better stay away from Marlene, she’s mine … I hope ... someday. No dates and no showers; you hear me? No, we don’t need the SUV today. You can take it home and take Charley to school and get some sleep. Call me when you get up and I’ll tell you what else we’ve found in this mess. I’m gonna get the fire department up here and wash this place down after we’re through today. Like I said, it gives me the creeps.”

Armond took the short way home to their two bedroom apartment and found Lucy still asleep on the couch, the television on and Charley in the bathroom. He knocked lightly on the door to let Charley know he was home and went to his bedroom to remove his deputy’s gear. When he came out, Charley was out of the bathroom, gave him a big hug and asked if he got scared at the accident site, obviously wanting to know more. Of course it was an accident site and young boys wanted to know all about that stuff, until they were in the middle of it. Before he answered any questions he had to have some coffee and breakfast. He started on the eggs and remembered Lucy on the couch. He told Charley to wake her up, and damned if she didn’t go walking into the bathroom in panties and an undershirt.

She was a cute little nymph, but it pissed him off and he yelled at her through the door, “Lucy you wear clothes around this house, you hear. You run around in your undies again and I’ll tell your mom about it.”

He heard her faintly mumble something from the bathroom. She came out in a few minutes dressed the same way, but hurried into the living room to retrieve her other clothes. She soon came into the kitchen seemingly proud of herself, but dressed in appropriate winter clothes.

Army asked, “Hi sweetie, you want some breakfast?”

Lucy said, “Sorry Mr. Lennox, that’s just the way I sleep, mostly. I thought I’d be up sooner, but the sun comes up late now, so … .”

He smiled at her and asked, “What do you want for breakfast; eggs, bacon, toast … what?”

Charley came into the kitchen to ask for eggs and he and Lucy greeted each other with small talk about school and other kids and the upcoming Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks. Army scrambled six eggs and many bacon strips in the skillet and wondered about the lights on the hill, in the canyon.

After dropping off Charley at school he stopped by the office to speak to Beth, a day-duty dispatcher, to see if Larry had called in about anything specific. She said the deputies retrieved two license plates; one from New York and one from California and the numbers would be on Larry’s desk. He stuck his head into the Sheriff’s office to say hello, but Andy wasn’t in yet so he inspected Larry’s desk for the license plate numbers. He found them beside a small stack of message notes from Marlene and sat down at a computer console to determine who the unfortunate owners were.

The California license plate was registered to a Ford Mustang owned by Mr. Art Davis of Sacramento, California and was current. The New York License plate was registered to a Toyota Prius owned by a Mrs. Lois Peterson of Star Lake, New York. Registration stickers were currently attached to the windshields in New York so until someone found the windshield from the Prius it was impossible to determine validity. Still not able to get the canyon lights out of his mind, he bid Beth good morning and headed for home and the apartment’s peace and quiet, to get some sleep.

After he showered and put on the pajama bottoms his late wife gave him for Christmas many years earlier, he lay down to dream about her, but when he closed his eyes all he could see were the flashing canyon lights. He knew he would never get to sleep wondering about the lights, especially if that infernal ringing kept up. Finally, his foggy brain realized with chagrin the ringing was his alarm and it was 3:00 p.m.; time to get up and start a new shift at 5:00 p.m. if he was needed. Before he got dressed he called the dispatcher and asked her to radio Larry and ask him to call when it was convenient.

About 10 minutes later his cell rattled; it was Larry. After courtesies, Larry briefed him on what else had been found with regard to the vehicles and the people who died in them. The deputies, helpers and the coroner’s office had determined there were at least two people involved, and one did have a dog in the car at the time of the accident. A stainless steel Rabies vaccination tag had been found, issued in St. Lawrence County, New York. Two license plates had been found, the New York plate charred but readable.

Army told him about the owners and that he’d left the names and addresses on Larry’s desk. Larry asked if Army could follow up since someone would have to get the Sheriff all the pertinent data before close of business so Andy could contact next of kin. Larry had to wait at the site for the fire department to wash the site down so the road could be reopened before 6:00 p.m., but he told Army to take the night off. Such was the most current and superficial data regarding the remains of two humans, one unfortunate dog and two well built vehicles, all somehow turned into unorganized matter which appeared to have been run through a tree limb shredder.