exertion when the last box was loaded. Big Ed gave a warning whistle, indicating that the German trucks were within a mile of the town. LeRoi disappeared in the darkened building one last time. He emerged after a couple of minutes, climbed into the cab, and gunned the truck’s engines as he sped out onto the darkened highway.
The two-lane road was a tortuous, twisting ribbon that followed the contours of the mountainside as it slowly climbed above the placid Saar. In the dark, with no lights, it was sometimes difficult to determine where the road actually lay beneath the snow. LeRoi did not let up on his speed and he barely kept the skidding, careening vehicle on track. Several times the truck actually scraped against the railings built to prevent vehicles from hurtling down the steep mountainside. The road dropped and curved into a pass between two peaks that turned into a straightaway with a half-mile visibility. LeRoi could see the lights of a small roadblock in the distance. He did not decrease his speed, but kept barreling down the highway with the accelerator pushed to the floor.
As the truck neared the roadblock, they saw lights being waved back and forth by the men staffing the checkpoint, but LeRoi ignored the signal and veered partially off the road in order to knock down the shelter upon which the telephone line was connected. There were shouts and curses as the German soldiers leapt out of the way. One fired two shots at point-blank range. None of the occupants was hit but two windows were shattered and flying glass was everywhere. The truck slammed into the post that served as support for the wooden pole that swung down and blocked passage. The post snapped and flew off to the right, and then the truck hit the wooden shelter and splintered the whole front of it. As it collapsed, the truck continued down the highway. More shots were fired by the Germans, but the bullets went astray.
The ride was rough and bumpy as the truck sped around a sharp curve that led out of the pass and down along the side of the mountain. By now, the snow had stopped falling and the sky appeared to be lighter. For the first time, they could see, high above them, the glow from the lights of Saint Die in the surrounding darkness. Each time the truck hit a bump in the road, everything in it was momentarily airborne. Professor, who was occupying the front passenger seat, had one foot braced against the dashboard. He looked across at LeRoi and saw him smiling. “What are you smiling about?” he asked as he cleaned his glasses. “We nearly got our asses shot off back there! And I can’t figure out how you’re planning to get to the ridge.”
“You remember that old logging road that was a couple of valleys south of Saint Die? If I can find it, it’s got to end up somewhere near Saint-Germain. How you doing back there, Big Ed?” LeRoi called over his shoulder.
“He’ll make it,” Slick answered. “It ain’t deep, but it’s a long gash. He can’t talk right now ’cause he’s biting down on leather. I poured some schnapps on it and gon’ pour some more as soon you stop bumpin’ around.”
“You gon’ have to wait a minute. I want to get off this roadway first,” LeRoi answered. He drove on for several more miles, then took the first large dirt road leading off into the trees. The road curved around the mountain and began to climb sharply. LeRoi followed it until it forked. He killed the engine and said, “We got to scout from here on. I don’t want to drive into no German patrols. The ridge can’t be but three, four miles from here.”
“I’ll stay here with Big Ed, if you don’t mind,” Slick offered.
LeRoi got out of the truck and walked around to the back. He pulled the canvas back and saw that the metal box was open. “You want to bury the gold now and split it between the four of us? Or do you want to wait and share it with the whole platoon?”
Slick sputtered, “How you get four? They’s only three
The two-lane road was a tortuous, twisting ribbon that followed the contours of the mountainside as it slowly climbed above the placid Saar. In the dark, with no lights, it was sometimes difficult to determine where the road actually lay beneath the snow. LeRoi did not let up on his speed and he barely kept the skidding, careening vehicle on track. Several times the truck actually scraped against the railings built to prevent vehicles from hurtling down the steep mountainside. The road dropped and curved into a pass between two peaks that turned into a straightaway with a half-mile visibility. LeRoi could see the lights of a small roadblock in the distance. He did not decrease his speed, but kept barreling down the highway with the accelerator pushed to the floor.
As the truck neared the roadblock, they saw lights being waved back and forth by the men staffing the checkpoint, but LeRoi ignored the signal and veered partially off the road in order to knock down the shelter upon which the telephone line was connected. There were shouts and curses as the German soldiers leapt out of the way. One fired two shots at point-blank range. None of the occupants was hit but two windows were shattered and flying glass was everywhere. The truck slammed into the post that served as support for the wooden pole that swung down and blocked passage. The post snapped and flew off to the right, and then the truck hit the wooden shelter and splintered the whole front of it. As it collapsed, the truck continued down the highway. More shots were fired by the Germans, but the bullets went astray.
The ride was rough and bumpy as the truck sped around a sharp curve that led out of the pass and down along the side of the mountain. By now, the snow had stopped falling and the sky appeared to be lighter. For the first time, they could see, high above them, the glow from the lights of Saint Die in the surrounding darkness. Each time the truck hit a bump in the road, everything in it was momentarily airborne. Professor, who was occupying the front passenger seat, had one foot braced against the dashboard. He looked across at LeRoi and saw him smiling. “What are you smiling about?” he asked as he cleaned his glasses. “We nearly got our asses shot off back there! And I can’t figure out how you’re planning to get to the ridge.”
“You remember that old logging road that was a couple of valleys south of Saint Die? If I can find it, it’s got to end up somewhere near Saint-Germain. How you doing back there, Big Ed?” LeRoi called over his shoulder.
“He’ll make it,” Slick answered. “It ain’t deep, but it’s a long gash. He can’t talk right now ’cause he’s biting down on leather. I poured some schnapps on it and gon’ pour some more as soon you stop bumpin’ around.”
“You gon’ have to wait a minute. I want to get off this roadway first,” LeRoi answered. He drove on for several more miles, then took the first large dirt road leading off into the trees. The road curved around the mountain and began to climb sharply. LeRoi followed it until it forked. He killed the engine and said, “We got to scout from here on. I don’t want to drive into no German patrols. The ridge can’t be but three, four miles from here.”
“I’ll stay here with Big Ed, if you don’t mind,” Slick offered.
LeRoi got out of the truck and walked around to the back. He pulled the canvas back and saw that the metal box was open. “You want to bury the gold now and split it between the four of us? Or do you want to wait and share it with the whole platoon?”
Slick sputtered, “How you get four? They’s only three
Similar Books
