Page 10 of Longest Ride

“Tell them to save some of the calls for us,” said Virge. “We’re coming as fast as we can.”

“Won’t be too fuckin fast,” said Travis. “Gonna be impossible to get a fuckin tow if we go in the ditch, so take it easy.” He looked at us and was thinking hard. “Who’s turn is it to drive?”

“Mine,” I said.

“Be careful, son. Keep your headlights on.”

“Copy that.”

Sheriff’s Office. Coyote Creek.

Molly took calls one after the other and wrote down the locations of the accidents. She’d give them to Billy in the order they came in, but it would be hours before Billy and Ted got around to all of them. She wished Travis and the boys would get back. This early snowstorm was turning into a nightmare.

A few minutes later, Billy called in from highway two south of Ethridge and Molly read him the next one from the list.

“This sounds like a bad one, Billy. A two-vehicle collision and there is a fatality. I already sent Doctor Olsen to the scene.”

“Where is it, Molly?”

“Between the Ethridge turn-off and Cut Bank.”

“Okay. Doc Olsen is coming from the opposite way, and he might get there first. I’ll call and tell him I’m on my way. Ted’s right behind me with the tow truck. Anything from Travis?”

“I’ll try him again and let you know.”

“Thanks. I’ll call in as soon as I’m done this one.”

Billy told Ted where they were headed, and let Ted go first. Billy drove the Bronco and followed the big tow truck. Ted plowed through the piles of snow, clearing the drifts, and making it possible for Billy to get through with the squad.

When they got to the accident scene twenty minutes later, cars and pickups were parked on both sides of the crash, and nobody could get past the wreckage. Both vehicles had skidded into the middle of the two lanes and the highway was blocked.

Hard to see anything. The wind was ferocious and the snow turning to ice pellets was hard and biting on their faces.

The victim on the road had been thrown through the windshield and was covered in a blanket of snow. It was impossible to tell if he was suffering from rigor, or frozen solid.

Billy checked the dead guy’s vehicle. “He seems to be the only person from the Hyundai, Ted. Check the pickup and see how many are hurt.”

Ted opened the door of the other vehicle and took stock. Came back and told Billy.

“Driver is hurt pretty bad,” hollered Ted over the noise of the wind. “He’s stuck behind the air bag. His wife or passenger ain’t moving at all. We’d better wait for Doc Olsen or the paramedics. We can’t move those people.”

Border Crossing. Alberta/Montana Line.

The lineup to cross the border was about half a mile long. From where I was sitting in the line, I couldn’t even see the customs booths.

We crept along about two miles an hour for the next half hour before we got near the office, but as soon as we were close enough, Dad waved us out of the line and over to the building. He was going to speed things up and get us through that way.

Me and Virge sat in the Jeep and waited for Dad to talk toMark, the customs guy we knew. When he came out of the office he stuck his head in my window and said, “Pull into the semi and RV lane, Harlan. Mark is going to shoot us through.”

“Fantastic.”

“There’s a big pile up on the I-15 north of Sweetgrass and the highway is blocked waiting on the sheriff. Guess that would be me. My county and I’ve got to get down there to see if I can sort it out.”

“How bad is it?” asked Virge.

“Don’t know until we get there, son.”

Wearing a heavy parka, the boss ran out of the building, raised the gate and shoved us through the booth used for the tractor-trailers.

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