Chapter 57: Caution - Emergency Vehicle Access

Although I had minor trepidations about Jackie heading off to school in Edmonton in a few weeks, I certainly wasn’t worried about her and Carissa taking Kristina to town for her three month medical checkup. In fact I was out raking the native hay crop when Maria came riding her horse across the field at a full gallop and skidded to halt next to my tractor.

“You’re needed in town, right now,” she screamed at me. “Carissa and Jackie are both badly hurt! Someone hit them with a truck as they were crossing the street.”

“Both of them? What about the baby?”

“Kristina is okay. She’s with her grandmother at Lucille’s house now, but Mrs. Coulter is really upset, so Sandy wants you to drive her to town right away. That way you can both be there in case you’re needed.”

I didn’t bother unhooking the tractor from the side-delivery rake I was pulling, I just lifted it, then turned the tractor toward the ranch buildings. Then I cut directly across all the swaths in my way, not caring about the mess I’d make, I could straighten that up another day. Sandy was already tossing a few bags into my old car, because I’d installed seat belts in it and she could use those to fasten Toby’s car-seat in place.

“Wash up, and change your clothes, FAST!” she ordered after seeing how dusty and dirty I’d gotten in the field.

I think I had the fastest shower and change of clothes ever, then I raced out to the car to find Sandy and Toby all ready to leave. As we drove up the hill on the way into town, Sandy updated me on what she’d heard about what had happened. Carissa and Jackie had been crossing main street when they’d been struck by a hit-and-run driver who was driving a pickup truck with a full ‘bush guard’ front bumper. Jackie had been knocked down and might have been run over, while Carissa had been thrown several feet from the point of impact. Both were badly injured and had been rushed to the hospital, but that was all Sandy had heard about their condition. Wilma Coulter had been approaching the same intersection while pushing Kristina in her baby buggy, so she had seen the whole incident take place. Mrs. Coulter was insistent that she’d seen the driver of the truck and swore that it had been Jackie’s father. That had upset her so badly that she was in the hospital as well, being treated for shock and emotional trauma. Lucille was looking after Kristina for the time being, but Sandy said that when Lucille had called she’d sounded close to the breaking point.

None of that was news I wanted to hear.

We had just turned onto the county road at the end of our access road when I heard the roar of a loud motor through my open window and happened to glance in the rear view mirror. Accelerating towards us from further up the county road was a full sized pickup truck with a huge brush guard front bumper. Since we were in my car, that pickup truck with its big pipe bumper looked HUGE and in no time he was so close that I could see he resembled Sandy’s father, but more than that he looked stark, raving mad! I was accelerating, but he was within a few feet of my car and I could see from the way he was driving that he was planning to run us off the road. I suppose he’d recognised us by the car, since it was painted the same colours as Car 54 had been and my name had certainly been associated with those colours. I knew that we were in trouble, but I wasn’t about to give up.

“Sandy, fasten your seat belt and hang on. I’m sure that’s Jackie’s father behind us and it looks like he wants to run us down,” I barked.

Instead of reaching for her seat belt immediately, she leaned over, reached across me, grabbed my seat belt and clicked it into place even before she grabbed hers and locked it down.

“Toby is strapped into his seat and it’s strapped down tight,” she said quickly. “And, I looked back at the truck, that’s definitely my uncle Bill. He must want to kill us all.”

I heard her words, but she seemed to be speaking slowly and her words sounded distant. That meant my time compression phenomenon was back and everything seemed to slow, the same effect which had often hit me while I was on the track or at other times of danger. Only I wasn’t in a stock car race, competing for some silly little trophy this time, instead I was racing for a far bigger prize - my family’s lives.

“I know,” I managed to answer Sandy, then I blocked out all distractions.

I was concentrating on racing a madman who might try anything, so I couldn’t afford to let my attention wander. If I could gain some distance on his truck he’d be partially blinded by dust kicked up by my tires as we raced down the dirt road, so stirring up dust became my primary goal. I was doing my best to aim for the softest, driest parts of the road, attempting to throw up as much dust as I could, but still drive as fast as possible. I couldn’t go any faster though. I was already going as fast as I dared, far faster than I’d ever travelled down that narrow road before. No matter how I tried however, I couldn’t seem to gain any distance on the truck on that section of dirt road. Soon we’d have to navigate the portion of road we called the big bend though, a wicked S-bend at the bottom of a long, steep grade where the road crossed a huge erosion gully. Those sharp curves with the narrow bridge in the middle of the S-bend was the one place on this road where I might have a chance to gain some distance. I knew that pickup trucks didn’t corner well at high speed, which meant he’d need to slow more than I would. On top of that I was certain he’d never intentionally thrown his truck into a four-wheel slide and I planned to show him I could do it with a normal car. If he wasn’t an exceptionally skilled driver in a highly modified truck I’d gain distance on those curves, which was bound to be some advantage further down the road. If I could just hold him off until we reached the better maintained road that ran past my family’s farm there would be no way in hell he’d ever catch me before I got to town and I knew I’d have help there.

I’d grown accustomed to how my car handled through years of driving it and although it wasn’t set up for racing, I knew just what to expect from that run-of-the-mill Ford sedan. The only non-stock items on that car were the tires, shocks, suspension and seat belts, which I’d beefed up because of my experience on the track, but that was all I’d done to modify it. Since the rest of the car was virtually stock, I’d certainly be driving that S-bend much slower than I would have done in Car 54. Still, I knew I’d be going faster than most people could and definitely faster than any pickup I’d ever seen. I glanced in the rearview mirror just before entering the first curve of the S-bend and saw that he’d already slowed slightly, that meant I’d already gained distance on him. That was all I needed to know. It meant I had a few seconds to brake, then swing a foot or two wide on the straight leading into the curve, that way I’d be in a better position to cut the corner as tight as possible. Once I was in the turn though I’d have to shave the inside of the corner extremely close in order to still have enough distance to regain control of the car before we crossed the bridge.

Just as I entered the first curve I cut the front wheels and tapped the brakes, just enough to throw the car into a flat skid. The instant I felt the wheels break free, I poured on the power. For a brief instant all four wheels were skidding, then I was in a powered slide and that was something I knew I could control. Even with the beefed up suspension the car leaned more than I felt comfortable with and it wanted to slide wide, but somehow I held her in place on the road’s dirt surface. However we must have been doing about forty miles an hour and still recovering from that slide as we hit the deck of that narrow bridge, but I had to concentrate on swinging to the other side of the roadway to set up for the next curve. I was off the bridge and just about to accelerate so I could throw the car into another four wheel slide for the next curve when I heard Sandy gasp.

“Ohmigod!” she shouted, then an instant later. “He’s going over!”

As suddenly as she spoke, she fell silent, then she gulped as if swallowing hard just as I powered into the curve, but I’d caught her words and wasn’t forcing the car into a slide.

“You can ease up, Chris, Uncle Bill didn’t make it,” she continued after a second. “Don’t you dare stop though. His truck is wrecked and down in the ravine, but he could still be dangerous. He always carries a rifle in his truck and he’s the kind of guy who would lay there waiting for you to come help him, then shoot you, even if he was taking his last breath.”

“But - what if he really is dying?” I asked as I slowed the car and glanced over my shoulder to see the dust rising from the accident.

“Don’t be a damn fool!” she shouted. “He just tried to kill us, so to hell with him. Let the cops check the wreck to see if he’s alive. It’s not your job. Let’s go to Uncle Tom’s house and use the phone to call them. After what Lucille said he did in town I’ll bet the cops are already looking for him though.”

I didn’t like the idea of leaving an accident, but I didn’t feel safe about going back either. As well as that I didn’t want to have an argument with Sandy, so I started to accelerate again, but planned to stop and call for help as soon as we could. We didn’t get as far as Uncle Tom’s though. We’d just come over a knoll on the lower end of the county road when we saw an RCMP car coming the other way. Immediately I pulled over to the side of the road to stop, then stepped out to flag down the cop car.

“Chris, have you heard anything about the problems in town?” Officer Davis asked as he pulled up and rolled down the window of the squad car. “We tried to call your house, but first the line was busy, then no one answered. We think Bill McAdam might be coming this way to try to...”

“I’ve heard about Carissa and Jackie, but if you’re looking for Bill McAdam, he’s in a wreck about a half-mile up the road,” I said sharply, interrupting him. “He came up behind us and tried to run us off the road, but he tried to go too fast around the curve. When the truck skidded, it flipped over and into the ravine on the S-bend right by the bridge. Sandy says he’s a nutcase who always carries a rifle in his pickup though, so I didn’t dare go back to find out if he’s okay or not.”

“Can you turn around and show me where the accident happened?”

“Accident hell, the bastard intentionally tried to kill us, but he might have killed himself instead. I can turn around, but I’m not going close to the son-of-a-bitch, not unless I know he’s dead, or else in your handcuffs and stripped naked as a jay-bird. If you want I’ll point out where his truck is from the top of the hill above the ravine, but that’s it. I’m not going any closer until I know it’s safe.”

“That’s all I want, Chris. Constable McDougall and I will handle the situation from there.”

So I hopped back in the car and did a police turn, backing up rapidly, then turning the wheel so the rear end swung to the left. As the front end of the car whipped around to the right, I spun the steering wheel to use car’s momentum to complete the turn and slapped the gearshift into drive, then hit the accelerator. The car spun to face the opposite direction and in only seconds we were moving down the road again, but now facing back the way we’d come only moments before.

“Dammit, why did you do that fancy turn crap?” Sandy complained. “Did you have to show off?”

“Sorry! I was in a hurry and that’s the fastest way to turn around. Besides, I guess I’m still annoyed that anyone could do what that S-O-B did,” I growled. “Actually, I hope the bastard is dead.”

“Huh, so do I, even though he’s my uncle. Don’t you dare repeat that to anyone outside the family though, not what you said and not what I said.”

“Oh come on now, I know that much,” I grumbled quietly, my anger slowly defusing as I crested the hill overlooking the S-bend and the ravine, then pulled over and skidded to a stop.

The pickup was completely upside down and jammed crosswise in the ravine, but I could only say that because we could just barely see all four tires and the underbody of the truck. I wasn’t about to go close enough to see anything more, not until I knew that bastard was no danger to me or anyone else.

The RCMP car pulled up beside us and the constable on our side of the car rolled down her window.

“Chris, did you say you thought he was armed?” Officer Davis asked, calling across his partner.

“Yes Officer Davis,” Sandy called back. “He always has a rifle behind the seat in his truck. He’s been in trouble for that before, but that doesn’t stop him. He thinks the laws are for other people, not him.”

“Thank you, Sandy. I’ll take that as a warning,” he nodded to her, then looked directly into my eyes. “Chris, I’d appreciate it if you’d back up as soon as possible, at least until you’re out of rifle range. We’ll take it from here and I’ll catch up with you to get your statement later. Actually right now, you’re both needed in town more than here, so get your butt in gear, but please drive safely!”

“Thanks Don,” I nodded, then restarted the car and quickly backed up the hill before I turned and headed for town again.

“Oh my, I feel like I was run over by a steam roller,” Sandy said a moment later as she slumped in her seat.

“That’s because you’re going through an adrenaline dump, but I’m going through it too,” I snorted. “I was worried until I saw how he was driving, then I just became angry. I was still extremely alarmed though, so I’m feeling the same effects your are.”

“I was scared back there, but I’m very thankful that you used to drive a stock car. I couldn’t have driven like that,” she sighed. “I don’t get it though, Toby slept through the whole thing. I expected him to start crying when he was being thrown from side to side, but he never even seemed to notice.”

“Maybe he just likes riding in a car,” I mumbled.

Both of us fell silent then and we drove the rest of the way to town without speaking. We went straight to Lucille and Jerry’s, where Lucille met us at the door, holding Kristina in one arm and Jenny in the other. Both of the babies were crying and Lucille looked as if she’d been crying too. Since Sandy was holding Toby, I reached out and took Kristina, who opened her eyes and saw who it was, then snuggled close and stopped crying in seconds. Almost instantly Jenny settled down as well.

“Thank God!” Lucille whispered emphatically. “Kristina hasn’t stopped crying since she was brought here and I think Jenny was crying in sympathy.”

“Umm, I should go to the hospital, shouldn’t I?” I frowned, knowing I couldn’t take Kristina with me.

“Don’t bother, Chris. Neither of the girls made it,” Lucille broke into tears again. “Not only that, but Corinna and Mrs. Coulter were almost inconsolable, so they’ve both been sedated. Aunt Liz, Aunt Alice and Jennifer Dolens are there, so if anything is needed they can take care of it. If you really feel you have to go somewhere and do something, then go down to Frank’s garage. He’s been trying to organize people to hunt for Bill McAdam and his sons. You could probably help with that if you have to get involved.”

“Frank can call off the search for old man McAdam,” I stated flatly. “By now that jackass is either in police custody, or in a body bag. I imagine Franks knows that though, because I think the police are going to need the tow truck to find out if McAdam is alive or not.”

“What do you mean?”

“Uncle Bill tried to run us off the road. He missed us and ended up in that big gully at the bottom of the big hill, the one on the county road going up to the ranch, where the road zig-zags,” Sandy reached out and touched my arm with one hand. “Chris drove through the curve just like he was on the track and in Car 54. Uncle Bill was chasing us, but was going too fast to keep his truck on the road. He didn’t make the corner so he skidded off the road, then his truck flipped over and landed upside down. I think he was probably crushed, because the cab of the truck was flattened when it hit the bottom of the wash.”

“That’s enough, Sandy,” I growled. “We should give Officer Davis a full report before we say anything more to anyone. He might not want us to tell other people everything.”

“He was trying to catch you - following your car - in a pickup truck - and on a dirt road? The man had to be crazy as a friggin’ loon to even try that!” Lucille stared at me, then shook her head. “Sorry, I guess we knew that already, especially after all the other crap he’s done.”

“Are you implying he did more than we’ve heard about?”

“Well, his wife was killed in Calgary, shot at point blank range and they think he did it. Their next door neighbours called the police because the dog was constantly howling for a couple days. They found Mrs. McAdam when they entered the house and they think she must have been dead for at least two or three days. On top of that Mark and Luke were attacked sometime yesterday afternoon. Clarence found them early this morning when he went out to the job site. He managed to get them into his truck and rushed them to the hospital in Innisfail. Charlie Engels is looking for Matt and John too, but they don’t seem to be on the job. The backhoe and the cat are there, shot all to hell, but the last I’d heard he hadn’t found the guys.”

“Holy cow!” Sandy stared at Lucille. “That’s almost the whole family. Are Jess and Jean okay? Has anyone talked to them?”

“They’re fine,” Lucille grasped Sandy’s hand. “They’ve been camping out with young Tom, working on the fences somewhere out on the lease land. Uncle Willard called them on the CB and they’re headed back to the farm now. Actually by this time they may be on the way here.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” Sandy sighed at that, but then so did I.

We remained at Lucille’s so Don Davis could find us to take our statements, but we soon learned that there wouldn’t be any problem for me over the incident on our road. According to the RCMP investigation, Bill McAdam’s truck had definitely been behind our car when we entered the curve and Officer Davis had photographic evidence of the tire tracks to prove it. McAdam had simply lost control and skidded across the road into the ravine. The truck had entered the ravine nose first, but that big front bumper had dug in part way down the bank, then the truck had flipped end for end, landing upside down. When the bumper dug in it had instantly stopped the truck’s forward motion, then since McAdam wasn’t wearing a seat belt, he was thrown into the steering wheel. We learned later that the coroner at his inquest said his head smashed into the windshield and the steering wheel post smashed through his sternum, rupturing his heart. Both injuries caused massive trauma and either one would probably have killed him almost instantly. I didn’t feel the least bit of sympathy for the bastard, in fact I felt he got off easily. Maybe I’m a vindictive S-O-B, but I almost wish he’d have lasted longer, especially if you considered all the pain and trauma he had caused others.

Sandy and I were still at Lucille’s when word came through that Matt and John had been found and that they were badly injured, but alive. They’d both been shot, Matt in the chest and John in the abdomen, then they’d been rolled into one of the trenches on the site where they’d been working. The wounds were so serious that Charlie and one of the local doctors had loaded them into Charlie’s plane to fly them to the University Hospital in Edmonton. An hour later we were told that the other two boys were being flown to Edmonton as well, so although we didn’t know any specifics, we knew they were all in extremely serious condition.

That left us with a major conundrum since we felt that a family representative should be with them. The only surviving members of the whole McAdam family were Sandy, Jess and Jean. Only Sandy was nursing Toby and now had Kristina to care for as well, while Jess and Jean were not yet eighteen so they couldn’t make any legal decisions. That meant the job fell on my shoulders simply because I was legally married into the family. However, I still had a ranch to run and a staggering amount of work to do at that time of year. I called a meeting of the Crawford-Bender family at that point, which was easy because all of us were in town. We decided that as soon as he was back in town, I’d hire Charlie Engels and fly to Edmonton, along with Mom, Jess and Jean, while Beth would look after the house for Mom. Meanwhile Tom would go to Mile High Ranch to help Juan, Conseula and Maria. That really stretched our workforce thin, especially since Wil was spending a lot of time supporting Corinna, but it would work for a few days.

Mom, Jess, Jean and I flew out early the next morning and rented a car at the airport to drive to the hospital. Of course the red tape had to be satisfied before we could get any information about the McAdams. When we arrived at the hospital’s registration desk, I actually had to show the nurse my marriage license before we were told anything. At that time both Mark and John were conscious and in recovery, but still in a drug induced stupor, but Matt and Luke were in the operating room for a second time. I was the only one allowed to speak to a doctor at that time, I don’t know why and I didn’t ask, but at least I was given the information we all wanted to know. Then I had to convince the hospital that Mom, Jess and Jean were related to the boys, but Mom had to prove she had been Jackie’s ‘foster mother’ before they were allowed to see the boys.

Mark had been struck in the chest and lower abdomen by two bullets, so he’d already had an operation to repair internal damages, but the operation included a peritoneal lavage, and some minor reconstructive surgery on his right hip joint. He’d have to undergo further reconstructive surgery, however at the moment he was considered to be stable, but under mild anaesthesia.

John had also been hit by two bullets and grazed by a third, but all of his wounds were in the fatty or muscular tissue of the lower abdomen. The slugs had all passed through soft tissue, but didn’t seem to have entered or affected the peritoneum, however he was being closely monitored just in case. At the moment he was considered stable and would probably be able to speak to us within hours. Even then only one of us would be allowed in his room at any time and then only for a short period.

Matt had only been shot once, but the bullet had passed within a millimetre of his heart, then had shattered a vertebrae in his spine. While he seemed to be in relatively stable condition, he would likely have major complications because of the spinal injury. However, since he was in surgery at the moment the doctor was unwilling to give me any further information at that time.

Luke had been shot in the right shoulder and in the upper left cheek, just in front of his ear. The shoulder wound had only been a puncture, passing through nothing but soft tissue, so it was minor. The second bullet had done far more damage, passing into his cheek, through his inner ear, then out through the skull again, but removing a small piece of his skull above and behind his left ear. His injuries were consider to be the most serious of the four brothers at that time because his inner ear had been damaged and there might be brain damage. Since it involved brain surgery, his present operation was extremely complex, so I was told that all we could do was wait, hope and pray for the best.

Since we couldn’t get in to see any of the guys for a while, we had some lunch, and rented a room at the closest motel, a suite for Mom and the girls, and a single room right across the hall for me. After that I returned to the hospital while Mom took the girls out to do some shopping, but all I could do was sit and wait. After about three hours of sitting on my butt, worrying about what was going to happen to everyone, I was finally able to get in to see Mark and John.

John seemed fully conscious, while Mark seemed only semi-aware of the situation, Actually John was furious about what his father had done and ranted about that until I told him that Bill McAdam had died in an accident while trying to run Sandy and me off the road. Unfortunately neither of them had known that Jackie and Carissa had been killed, but they’d suspected that had been their old man’s intention. In fact he had stood over John and Matt after they’d both been shot and rolled into a ditch, raving that he was going to kill their whole family and all of my family as well. Both John and Mark were relieved that he hadn’t survived the rollover, but both of them seemed to feel guilty that they’d brought trouble to my family. I had a hard time convincing them that they had no reason to feel any blame, instead all of the blame should rest squarely on the shoulders of their father.

I was only able to spend one night in Edmonton, then I had to hurry back home, because Tom had been injured when he was squeezed against a fence by one of my bulls. For some reason that bull had been overly friendly even as a yearling and had often rubbed up against anyone who cared for him. He was a little rougher with Tom though, actually bruising him badly, so Tom had to be taken in to see the doctor for a checkup to be certain that he didn’t have cracked ribs. Unfortunately that was going to leave our family in an even tougher situation, because it meant Tom was unable to do any heavy work for a week or two.

I didn’t fly home though, instead I drove back in a year old station wagon that had never left the sales lot, probably because it was an extremely ugly colour. Actually it was something I called ‘shit-brindle’ brown - which is slightly uglier than ‘baby diaper’ brown. And I’ll admit I used that colour as a club to drive the price of that car down so low I’m not sure the dealer made a buck on the ugly looking thing. I was honest though, I told him, the first chance I had I was going to have it repainted and that was going to cost me money - money which I was deducting from the amount I was willing to pay him. However, I had decided that Sandy needed a new car since she was going to be looking after two kids now and when I called him, even Frank Dolens told me I should buy the car at the price I’d negotiated. When I got behind the wheel to drive home, that car had only had forty-two kilometres on the odometer and I’d probably put on twenty of those while I was testing it out. I will admit that thing cruised down the highway like a limousine and I could pass almost anything on the road except a gas station, but I visited a couple of those on the trip back to the ranch.

I arrived home to find a madhouse in the town of Mountview. Unfortunately the news vultures from all over western Canada had decided that four deaths and four shootings in one fell swoop was big news. as a result it was only a few hours before our little town was inundated by those scavengers. Any members of our family were accosted the moment they tried to walk down the street, but John Coulter, Sandy and I were the main targets of their attempts to pry into the tragedy. I grew extremely tired of having a news camera shoved in my face whenever I went to town, but I tried to ignore those prying scandalmongers. However, when one of the morons tried to force his way into Lucille’s house and drove Sandy to tears, I bowled the asshole back out through the door while Lucille called the cops. By the time the RCMP arrived Jerry and I were standing on Lucille and Jerry’s front lawn surrounded by five of the damned idiots. Two of the imbecilic cameramen and a reporter were arrested right then and there. I was so angry that I went to see Cyrus, who filed a lawsuit against the three reporters and two cameramen, as well as the news agencies they worked for, suing them all for breaking and entry, invasion of privacy and common assault. It was no surprise that the five blockheads were rushed out of town or that the news agencies quickly offered us an out-of-court cash settlement. Cyrus accepted on our behalf, but we insisted that the money was to be anonymously donated to the local hospital, which defeated the news agencies’ attempt to use that donation as a way to get ‘a toe in the door’ and get an interview.

However after word of what had happened to us was spread around by the local rumour mill, the people of the town of Mountview decided enough was enough and got into the act. Cameramen were ‘accidentally’ bumped or jostled and if they ‘happened’ to drop their cameras, the cameras were ‘unfortunately’ stepped on, kicked flying or tripped over. One cameraman was ‘accidentally’ knocked down, then his huge camera just happened to get bumped and skidded out into traffic - right in front of the wheels of a passing truck. Any parked cars with a logo from a news agency on the door or a press pass in the window seemed to ‘spontaneously’ develop flat tires and their windshields were often mysteriously covered in mud or plastered with rotten eggs. Surprisingly no one seemed to witness those acts of vandalism. One obnoxious individual left his car door open when he chased John Coulter into the hospital, but he was blocked at the entrance by the hospital matron. When he returned to his car he discovered that an irate skunk had somehow found its way inside and had taken possession of the front seat. Of course the skunk took offence to his attempts to evict it - with predictable results. Several ‘luckier’ members of the press found themselves surrounded by crowds of people, all waving notepads in one hand and pencils in the other, with each person asking a variety of inane questions. Thankfully even multiple deaths are only newsworthy for a few days, so within a week our little town was back to relative normality.