Ambush. Part 17

Everyone on board began chanting Steven's name.

"Steven, Steven, Steven!"

I turned and smiled at the group, and then swiveled to look ahead. We were not going to make it. Hundreds of pine trees were dropping out of the clouds and raining down on the road in front of us. It looked like the whole forest had ripped free from the ground and was now descending on us. We were nowhere near safety, and we were being ambushed.

I screamed so that others would know they should too. Steven kept his hands on the wheel and closed his eyes. Trees bombarded the bus, slamming through windows and pounding the top like a group of angry gorillas. The bus flew up and down as it bounced over trees in the road. Rocks pelted the sides and top of the bus, cracking and splitting all of the windows. Steven ducked as a ma.s.sive tree trunk flew sideways into the front window, blowing the gla.s.s back and over all of us. I opened my eyes and could see the rocky field just off to the side.

"Pull in!" I screamed.

Steven turned the wheel slightly, and the bus jumped off the road and careened into the rocky field. The rocky ground grabbed the bus tires and slowed it down within a few hundred feet. Everyone flew toward me and then snapped back. I lost my grip on the rail and ended up in a ball on the steps in front of the door.

Most students got as close to the floor as they could, with their arms and backpacks over their heads. Trees and rocks continued to fall from above. I looked up at Steven. He still had his hands on the wheel and was staring forward, mumbling something incoherent.

I was wondering how much longer it would be until the roof of the bus was broken and we all died, when the large hits and thumps finally began to slow.

"It's stopping!" someone yelled.

I didn't know if that was true, so I kept cowering on the bus steps. I couldn't hear anything but the sound of students crying and whimpering. I figured there were no more trees above us that could fall or push stones.

Steven reached down, and I took his hand. I stood up and looked back at the rest of the bus. I saw Kate close to where she had been at the beginning. Her eyes locked with mine. She not only looked upset, but she looked out for blood-my blood.

The roof of the bus was beat down so low I could barely stand up. There wasn't a single window still intact, and three trees had worked themselves completely into the s.p.a.ce. The bus was blanketed with trees that were hanging off the roof and covering many of the windows. n.o.body was seriously hurt, but I could tell most of the kids would be emotionally scarred for years.

We all waited in the bus for help. It came pretty quickly as cars coming up the highway had been stopped by trees on the road and the people had spotted the bus in the rocky field.

We were all looked over and checked by EMTs. Those kids who were sc.r.a.ped or bruised got bandages and ointments, while people like me just got ignored.

I tried to get to Kate to talk to her, but she was being cared for by some tall, good-looking paramedic wearing a bandana.

n.o.body besides me and Kate had any real explanation for what had happened. A landslide seemed like the most logical explanation-not real logical, but the most. The landscape was littered with pine trees. They were all over the road and had covered the bus like a woody Snuggie.

It took a while to clear enough trees off the pavement so that cars could move up and down the road, but eventually students began to be transported to their houses or places of safety. I was wondering how I would get back to the manor when a strong hand from behind patted me on the shoulder.

I turned around to find Sheriff Pax.

"Beck," he said sternly.

"Sheriff," I replied.

Sheriff Pax looked around at all the trees and destruction. "What a scene," he said. "So peculiar."

"Yeah," I said lamely.

"Guess who gets to drive you home?" he asked.

I moaned.

"What's the matter?" Sheriff Pax asked. "It'll give us some time to talk about this."

I moaned again.

"Oh, and we'll be taking the Figgins's girl as well," he added. "I have a few questions for her also."

I moaned for the third time as Sheriff Pax led me to his car. Kate was already in the backseat waiting. She didn't even look up as I slid in next to her.

Something in my life needed to change.

Chapter 22.

The Fool on the Hill Riding in cars with adults can be painful and uncomfortable. I should know because I have been on a lot of uncomfortable car rides before. The one with Sheriff Pax and Kate, however, ranks among the top most uncomfortable moments of my whole life. Kate wasn't talking, but I could tell she was very close to just blurting out everything about me-dragons and all-and how horrible I was. I give credit to her, however; she didn't say a word about it no matter how much Sheriff Pax questioned her. Since Kate wasn't going to spill anything, he went after me, hoping that I might say something that would motivate Kate to speak up.

Adding to the overall feeling of worry was the fact that we were now driving back up the same road we had just been attacked on. I kept looking out the window, praying the forest was done with the ambush.

"Now, you two are close," the sheriff said, sounding like an adult being forced to speak about an awkward subject.

"Not anymore," I said. "Kate's going to the prom with Wyatt."

I could see the sheriff's face in the rearview mirror. He looked like a man that wanted to talk about almost anything else.

"Well, you were close," he clarified.

"Were," Kate emphasized.

"What do you think just happened?" the sheriff asked. "Did those trees just fall from the sky?"

I stayed silent so that Kate could answer. Even in moments of trial I was quite the gentleman.

"Beck?" Sheriff Pax asked.

"No," I said. "Trees don't just fall from the sky. It was a landslide."

"Landslides involve sliding mud and soil."

"Not all landslides are created equal," I pointed out.

"This was not a landslide," Sheriff Pax said, bothered by my insolence. "People could have died. Another bus was ruined."

"That wasn't my fault," I argued.

"I'm not so sure," he said.

"Kate, what do you think of all this?"

"I think we're lucky to be alive," she said solemnly.

"She's always really positive," I added.

"I'm trying to do my job, Beck," Sheriff Pax begged. "I can't decide if I should arrest you."

"For what?" I said. "For helping Steven stop that bus?"

"Kate," he pleaded. "Do you remember the time the dragons attacked?"

"Yes," Kate said. "Everyone does."

"That's not true," Sheriff Pax insisted. "I barely remember it and, according to Beck, I helped you all escape. n.o.body seems to remember any solid details. Not only are there no details in Kingsplot, but it seems as though those outsiders who reported on it now believe it never happened. There were videos that are gone, pictures that have faded, and n.o.body seems to care."

"You do," Kate said quietly.

"I do," Sheriff Pax said pa.s.sionately. "But I have to write things down just to be able to remember them the next day. It's taken me months of daily reminders to convince myself that if something happens that involves plants, Beck might be to blame."

"Well, that's rude," I said.

"I want to help this town," Sheriff Pax said. "Help me help you."

I laughed, thinking his last words sounded really cheesy.

"Why do the plants attack?" he asked.

"I don't know, they just do," I said. "I can't explain it."

"Are there more dragons?"

"Dragons aren't real," I told him.

"Is something about to happen?"

"Yes," I replied. "You're about to drop us off at our houses."

"Did you know that not many months ago a woman on the other side of the mountains was practicing the organ in a church when the roof was ripped off and the entire place was set on fire?"

I kept silent, knowing all too well about the incident he was referring to and wondering if he had forgotten he was involved.

"I was the one covering that case," he continued. "I have a file on it that shows pictures of the burnt church, and there's a statement from the woman that says she saw a dragon rip the roof off."

"Wow," I replied. I was really commenting on how well his mind had done at forgetting.

"I don't remember that at all," he said. "In fact, while reading the file, I thought it was a joke or a prank. But then on the bottom of the file on a Post-it note was the word Beck."

"There's a musician by that name," I told him. "Maybe you were referring to him."

"I don't think so."

We reached the gate to the Pillage manor, and Sheriff Pax pa.s.sed it up.

"I think I'll drop Miss Figgins off first if you don't mind, Beck."

"Not at all," I said.

When we reached Kate's house, she got out, thanked the sheriff for the ride, and then walked briskly to her house. We watched her open the front door and disappear inside.

Sheriff Pax turned the car around and drove back toward the manor.

"Beck, I need your help," he said.

"You've mentioned that," I replied. "But I'm not sure what you want. I'm just a kid. You're the sheriff."

"Is something bad about to happen?"

"Yes," I said again. "Millie and Thomas are going to be mad that I'm home again."

"Always a joke," the sheriff complained.

"I see you remember that," I pointed out.

"Your father isn't doing well," he said seriously, changing the subject.

"How do you know?"

"I went to visit him yesterday," he said. "They have him in solitary confinement. He seemed out of sorts and hostile."

"He probably just hates policemen," I said. "A lot of people do. You should probably leave him alone."

"I don't plan to leave anyone alone until I figure out what is happening here," the sheriff said. "Do you understand?"

"I know I'm just a kid," I said, "but I understand. You need to understand this, though; my father isn't well, and you've no right to bother him."

"He said you had betrayed him," Sheriff Pax said. He threw that bit of information out as if it were a secret he had been holding for the right moment.

"He did not," I argued.

"He did," the sheriff said. "He said he had you come to get him out and then you turned on him and told them he was crazy."

"I never did that!"

"He said you stole something from him."

I kept quiet, wondering just how much my father had told him.

"But when I pressed him, he said you took his rock," the sheriff said, disjointed. "He's not in the best frame of mind."