scrumptious.”
“I was thinking the same thing myself. Maybe we should ... uh-oh!” Hannah stopped speaking abruptly as brake lights began to flash on the roadway ahead. “Holy ... !”
“Cow!” Michelle supplied, finishing the phrase with a much more socially acceptable word than the one that Hannah had been about to utter. “What’s going on up there?”
“I don’t know, but it looks like trouble. And we’re not sticking around to find out!” That said, Hannah reacted almost instantaneously as she wrenched the wheel, pumped the brakes, steered out of a skid, and managed to fishtail onto the curvy access road that led to the Winnetka County rest stop.
Hannah barreled past a speed limit sign that warned motorists to slow to fifteen miles an hour. She knew she was going much faster than that, but she didn’t take her eyes off the road to check as she muscled her truck around the icy curves. When she reached the straightaway that ran past the rest stop, she skidded on a patch of ice and came very close to crashing into the faded Minnesota state map with the red YOU ARE HEREarrow pointing to Lake Eden. Still going well over the posted speed limit, her truck whizzed past the metal picnic table and barely missed wiping out on the corner of the concrete block restrooms.
They were deep in the pine forest now and the ice and snow lay in patches on the road. Hannah, the taller of the two sisters, felt her hair graze the top of the truck. For the first time in her life, she was grateful for the masses of curly red hair that cushioned her head. She was seriously wondering how much more swerving and skidding her truck could take before it shook apart, when they hit a pile of snow that slowed them, and the cookie truck came to rest scant inches from the massive trunk of a magnificent Norway pine.
“We made it,” Hannah said in a shaky voice, stating the obvious.
“We did. I really don’t know how you managed to get us here in one piece.”
“Neither do I.” Hannah realized that she’d been holding her breath and she took a deep gulp of air. And then, because she felt decidedly lightheaded, she lowered the window for a breath of fresh cold air.
Michelle did the same and then she turned to give her sister an unsteady smile. “That could have been bad, but you turned off just in time, and we ...” Michelle stopped short and leaned closer to the open window. She listened for a moment, and then she frowned. “What’s
“More trouble,” Hannah answered, listening to sounds of metal striking metal with considerable force. “It’s a good thing we got off the highway when we did. It sounds like a really bad accident.”
“More than one accident. It’s a chain reaction. They’re still crashing over there and it must be a massive pileup. Do you think we should go back and try to help?”
“Yes, but first we need to call the sheriff’s station. Do you have your cell phone?”
“Right here.” Michelle pulled it out of her pocket. “What do you want me to say?”
“Tell them it’s a multi-vehicle accident and to come out here right away. There are bound to be injuries, so they should put in a call for ambulances. Tell the dispatcher to alert Doc Knight at the hospital so he can set up to receive the accident victims.”
“Got it,” Michelle said, pressing numbers on her phone.
“I’m going to try to get turned around and drive up there.”
“Okay. It’s ringing now. I’ll tell the dispatcher what’s happening.”
As Michelle began to relay the information to the sheriff’s station, Hannah turned the truck around. This took several minutes as the road was narrow, and they couldn’t be of much help if they wound up stuck in the ditch. Her window was still down and she realized that the squeal of brakes and loud crashes had stopped. With the exception of a car horn that had stuck, the night was eerily silent. And then, just as she was about to pull out onto the access road that paralleled the highway, sirens wailed in the distance. Help was coming, and from the sounds of the breaking glass and impacts they’d heard only seconds before, it wasn’t a moment too soon.
Hannah and Michelle traveled forward on the access road, grateful that they weren’t in the path of the approaching emergency vehicles. They spotted three squad cars, two ambulances, and the Lake Eden fire truck. All had sirens wailing and lights flashing as they approached the accident scene.
“It’s bad,” Michelle said, as they got close enough to see the twisted wreckage.
“I know. Look up there on the left about fifty feet ahead. There’s a bus upside down in the ditch. And there’s so much wreckage spread out on the road, I don’t think the emergency vehicles can get to it.”
“You’re right. They’ll have to hike in and it’s a ways. Let’s get as close as we can on the access road and walk in through the ditch. I took a class in first aid and maybe I can do something to help. At least we can try to get the bus doors open so the passengers can get out.”
Hannah drove forward until she was adjacent to the overturned bus. Then both sisters got out of Hannah’s cookie truck and hurried down the steep, tree-lined bank.
“Careful,” Hannah warned. “It could be muddy at the bottom of the ditch.”
Michelle reached the bottom first and turned back. “It’s still frozen. It must be because it doesn’t get any sun with all these trees.”
The snow was deep at the bottom of the ditch and the two sisters waded through it with some difficulty. Then they started up the steep bank on the other side and made their way toward the overturned bus.
“I don’t hear anything,” Michelle said as they got closer to the bus. “Maybe everyone inside is okay and they’re just waiting for someone to come and help them get out.”
“It looks like a charter bus,” Michelle commented as they got closer. “There aren’t any regular busses painted gold. I wish I could read what it says on the side, but the letters are upside down and backwards.”
“It’s the band bus.”
“What band?”
“The Cinnamon Roll Six.”
“How do you know that?”
“It says Cinnamon Roll Six on the side.”
Michelle was silent for a moment, trying to make out the letters. “You could be right. Can you actually read it, or are you just guessing?”
“I can read it. I taught myself to read backwards and upside down when you and Andrea were kids and I was helping you with your homework.”
“But why did you have to learn to read upside down and backwards?”
“It was easier than getting up and walking around to read over your shoulders.” Hannah reached out to grab Michelle’s arm. “Careful of that pine branch. The bus snapped it off and it’s sticking up like a spear.”
Another twenty feet and they had arrived at the back of the bus. It was wedged between two trees and it had obviously rammed into a third, even larger tree. From the wide swath the bus had cut through the spirea and gooseberry bushes, it had obviously rolled over and slid on its top to the place where it was now lodged.
“We can’t get in the passenger door,” Michelle said, walking around the bus. “It’s blocked by those tree branches. Don’t most charter busses have an escape hatch cut into the top?”
“Yes, but the top of the bus is now the bottom, and it’s buried in several feet of snow. We’ll have to get in through the back door. Come on, Michelle. Let’s go.”
Both sisters headed around the bus, lifting pine branches as they went. When they arrived at the rear, Hannah attempted to open the door. “I can’t get it open,” she reported, stepping back with a disappointed sigh. “The handle won’t budge.”
“It must be locked from the inside.”
“You’re right. Let’s see if anybody inside can hear us.”
“Hello?” Michelle called out. “Are you okay in there?”
They waited a moment or two, but there was no answer. Hannah stepped closer and yelled as loudly as she could. “We need someone to open the back door. Can anyone get there to unlock it?”
The only sounds they heard were the distant sirens of emergency vehicles speeding to the accident site, and the wind whistling through the pines. Inside the locked bus, all was ominously silent.
