Morning, Charlotte

"John better be homesick, or I swear to God, Paul, he can kiss his job goodbye." Sam barked as he keyed the lock.

The Mountain King charter bus business had run successfully for the past five years and Sam was not about to risk any loss over an irresponsible driver.

"What's he done this time?" Paul asked, sipping his cappuccino.

"I'll tell you what he hasn't done". Sam turned around briskly. "That drunkard hasn't brought back a whole, damn bus of mine. How the hell am I supposed to organize passenger pick up at the tarmac for that mountain camping trip? You know I don't like refunding money, Paul!"

"My bus is free, Sam, I could refuel again and pitch in for now" Paul offered hastily. He knew that if Sam had to refund any money, he would not only pay cut on John's wages but those of all the drivers who worked for him.

"You think you're up for it?" Sam asked. "You can concentrate for a few more hours. Not going to fall asleep behind the wheel or anything?"

"I'll be all right. Nothing an hour or so at home won't fix."

Sam reached inside his pocket and took out a ten dollar note, "Take this, eat something, I need you ready by eleven thirty," he said, scratching his grey head. "They arrive at one and you need to get to the airfield before then."

Sam was middle-aged with a short fuse and a protruding belly which had, since his fortieth birthday, rounded out into the solid barrel-shaped overhang so common in those with an over-enthusiastic love of beer. He owned a bus business in the sleepy town of Charlotte, supplying buses and drivers to the towns nearby as well. However, it was during winter, when Christmas drew near and the exclusive mountain camping trips were offered, that the charter business usually boomed.

"Ok, I'll do it, but don't expect me back soon, all right? I'm going to take a break up there," Paul said, gulping down the last of his drink.

"Fine, but if you see that drunk-ass, tell him I want my bus back. If I get my hands on him..."

"John could be on his way as we speak", Paul said feebly, "maybe he got bogged down at the top with that hell of snowfall last night". He rubbed his hands together, looking up at the sky and then at the empty snow-covered streets. "I heard they sent snow ploughs up the mountain early this morning". He put his hands back in his pockets. "Winter's come early this year, and worse. Do you think it's safe for them trips to be operating?".

"I don't care as long as they bring in money," Sam said, pushing the door open and running inside to turn off the alarm.

Once Paul saw Sam moving towards Reception, he entered. "So how many trips have you got booked this year?"

Sam looked up, "Only one this time. Oh, but don't you worry. I'll find some work for you. You're the only man I can trust, Paul, and I know you got a wife and kids...but John, he's won't be getting a damn thing anymore."

"Well, it's Christmas you know, lots of spending," Paul said with a worried look.

"You do this trip for me, and I'll double your Christmas bonus, scout's honor," Sam looked up from his desk and stuck his hand up in a salute gesture.

"Thanks, Sam, that means a lot. I'd better go now. I'll be back tomorrow morning to get this week's pay. The bonus I'll take a week before Christmas". He smiled and left. When the door shut behind him, the bell dinged overhead. "Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings," he exclaimed, tossing the coffee cup in the bin, and walked towards the parking lot.

Paul got into his car and raced back home. He knocked on the door twice. His wife, still in her nightgown, opened it, gave her husband a welcoming kiss and closed the door behind him. "You are an hour and a half late." She hugged him around the waist. "Take a shower and I'll have some tea ready."

He kissed her again, "Are the kids still asleep?" She nodded. "You look beautiful". He smiled. "I'll be back," and he ran upstairs to take a quick shower.

Paul snuck back into the kitchen. Helen was waiting for him. "The children have been asking for you since yesterday morning. Kevin has a soccer match this evening and he wants to go with you, and Kay wanted the whole family to go see that re-run of Cinderella."

He pulled out a chair and sat down. She played with her bottom lip. "You have to go out again, don't you?" she sighed, putting the tea tray down on the table. When Paul remained silent, she continued in a whisper. "The children would rather have you this season than presents, Paul. You've hardly spent a day with them." Paul still sat quietly. "Paul, say something."

Paul shifted uncomfortably on his chair. "John hasn't come back from the mountain and you know Sam. He was talking about cutting back wages; you know he doesn't like refunding his money!" He tried to meet her eyes but she was staring down at the mug in her hand. "He's going to give me a double bonus. Besides, he has given me a week off, from Christmas Eve till the second of January, all that time is for you and the kids! Helen, look at me." She looked up with teary eyes. "Don't tell me the extra money won't help. After this trip, I've got tomorrow off. We'll go to the movies and we'll have a family soccer day, the works!"

"Where are you going this time?" she sounded resigned.

"Snow Valley Lodge," he said, dragging his chair towards his wife. "I have to be at the airfield by one. It's only a few hours drive to the lodge and I'll stay there the night if you are worried. I'll be back before ten tomorrow morning".

"I've got a bad feeling about this, Paul. The weather's worsening, the roads are covered with sleet." She looked at him desperately. "Every time you do the lodge rounds I get this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach." HHH er voice broke in a soft whimper.

Paul took her hands in his own and spoke softly. "Helen, I've done these rounds many times, I know those roads like the back of my hand. There's no safer driver for these mountain trips than me, and you know that very well."

"Paul, the weather is unpredictable, it creates problems even for the most experienced drivers, and I just don't think it's..."

"I'll be very careful, I promise." He tried to reason. "I'll come back to you no matter what. Besides..." he said with a slight grin, "do you really want Sam to wait for John to drive all those people up that strip of road. He's worse than this weather."

"And dangerous..." she said shakily, smiling at her husband's attempt at a joke, "but time doesn't wait for one man's promise. Please don't go, just this time, don't go!" She squeezed his hands tightly, desperately.

He hugged her tight and kissed her forehead, "Stop worrying about me so much. I'll be all right."

She looked at the clock on the wall. "You've got a couple of hours before you leave, do you want anything?"

"Well, I haven't looked at my wife closely recently. Just want to spend some time together", he stood up and pulled her towards the stairs, slipping his hands from her back across her stomach and pulling her close to his body. "Shall we?" he whispered, gently kissing her neck.

* * *

Paul pulled up at the side of the tarmac and waited on the bus until he got bored. It was well after one o'clock in the afternoon. He got out and walked towards the small group of buildings affectionately named the termite terminal by the locals. "Excuse me," he called to a man standing guard, "when is the one o'clock flight arriving?"

"Which flight?" the man asked with a haughty laugh. Paul looked at him sourly; everyone in Charlotte knew only one flight arrived each hour if they were lucky. Finally, the man said, "It's running late"

Paul looked at his watch and then went back to his bus, wondering how long it was going to take.

Clare shifted uncomfortably on the chopper floor. "This is ridiculous" she mumbled under her breath and looked at the strangers huddled up in the compartment around her. She turned to a guy next to her. He didn't seem that deterred by the inconvenient transport. In fact, he was busy talking with a young woman seated beside him.

Clare looked out the small window framing the patch of land below, miles and miles of nothing but the white canvas of snow. In the middle of it, looking like a muddy bike track, sat the tiny tarmac of Charlotte-Hasting Domestic Airport.

She turned around and anchored her body to the floor. The chopper had begun descending. Oh God, you've got to be kidding me, she thought, looking around at the sorry losers whose faces seemed contorted in their smiles. I'm going to kill Henry! He's sent me to the middle of nowhere with a bunch of strangers I'd rather not be with.

"Socialise, Clare. Socialize..." She heard his mocking voice in her head.

"Socialise, my ass" she mumbled bitterly. Five days, five days, before she could go free. She sighed in defeat as the chopper touched solid ground. To her, it wasn't touching the ground; its door wasn't opening now to let her go free. In fact, it was sending her out into the biggest cage she'd ever seen. A remote, freezing, country cage. She took a deep breath and rose up to join the line of people filling out one by one. Grabbing her duffle bag, she slid in behind the hazel-eyed guy.

Once on the wet ground, Clare followed the group and hung around the outskirts. She turned to find the hazel-eyed guy next to her. "Quite a ride, huh?" she smiled at him. He cracked a hesitant smile and nodded.

"This way please", the co-pilot was saying to the group at large and, before Clare could try another ice-breaker, the guy was already marching with the group towards the waiting bus.

Paul approached the group of tourists, half of whom were excited, the other half ready to wet their pants in anxiety. He cracked his best smile. "Welcome to Charlotte, it's not much but it's our humble home". A few passengers gave him a forced smile.

"Excuse me". He nodded at the co-pilot, then quickly marched past the group, towards the pilot's door and yanked it open. "Hey Leo, I didn't expect you to fly a chopper. I thought a big white bird was scheduled to come".

"A real bird got into the engine," he said, chuckling. "Nah, just something with the engine ... had to fix it and, since the chopper was free..."

Leo jumped out and stood next to Paul, watching the strangers stuffing their bags in the luggage hull of Paul's bus. "So how are your wife and kids?"

"Doing fine. Money's a bit tight but isn't it always. How's the missus doing? Heard she's pregnant!" Paul asked as they shook hands.

"Yeah, running her last miles; the baby is due in two weeks," Leo answered gleefully. "So, where's John? I was told he would be coming"

"He sure was supposed to. Sam's so pissed. He hasn't returned from his last assignment." Paul said, looking back and forth from the strangers to his friend. "I had to fill in".

"Don't tell me ... Sam's worried about the damn bus". Leo laughed.

Brandon stuffed his bag into the luggage compartment and took a step back, waiting to get on the bus, his gaze skipping to the driver, Paul Reeves. Paul's eyes landed on Brandon, who smiled faintly and quickly looked over at the bus, reading its name in awe. Wild Thing, had a good ring to it he had to admit. This is going to be quite a week, Brandon thought. He needed a release, the prospect of nothing but unspoiled nature surrounding him for days was a refreshing thought. He hated people but this lot didn't seem to bother him as much, they were too preoccupied to pay him much attention.

The previous week had seriously been a drag and he was looking forward to the coming days with an earnestness he'd never felt before. He heaved his satchel higher and took a step towards the bus.

"Excuse me!" came a soft whisper from behind him, and he was certain that there had been a gentle tap on his shoulder. He turned to face a young brunette, her blue eyes imploring him. "Could I ask you for a little help? I can't seem to get my duffle to fit".

Clare smiled innocently. Of course, she was perfectly capable of hauling her own bag but why pass up a chance of getting help? "Please!" she added, fighting an urge to bat her eyes at him. She didn't want to overdo the cuteness.

Brandon stooped down and easily brought up the bag and stuffed it into the compartment, then stood back up without waiting for gratitude. He pulled up his satchel again and entered the bus.

Clare stood dazed. That was the second time in one day the same guy had dismissed her so easily. She narrowed her eyes in a flash of anger. How dare he? Well, if he wants to play hard to get. She looked up to the window and watched his figure move deeper into the vehicle. She jerked her head back to the door, smiled innocently as she passed the driver, and entered the bus. Most of the front seats were already occupied. She scanned the back half of the bus and walked deeper.

She was nearing the seat where Brandon had settled himself. He looked up, his eyes almost quizzical. She knew a trick or two too. Both seats on the opposite side of the aisle were free. She slid in gracefully, not taking any notice of him until she'd settled.

She turned suddenly with purpose. "By the way, thanks for helping me out."

He nodded once again and turned his attention to his satchel. He dug deep and brought out a sketch pad and charcoal. Her eyes narrowed. He hadn't yet spoken a word, and the reason had to be that he couldn't speak. He was looking intently out the window, his hand-eye coordination so smooth Clare was mesmerized. The poor, dumb guy had quite a talent. He sketched the dark hulk of the chopper against the snow so accurately in such a short time that Clare felt the urge to speak to him again. Just then a human plunked himself on the free seat next to her. She looked up startled and saw a face beaming down at her.

"Mind if I sit here?" he asked.

She remembered him from the airport café. His friend was the one who had tried in vain to woo the waitress. She scanned the bus. There were still many more seats free. Well, if he chose to sit next to her...

She smiled. "Sure."

Leo's assistant had emptied the chopper of its passengers and luggage, before heading over to where Paul and Leo were still talking. "Yo, boss, we're done here."

Paul nodded, "I've got to run. I'll see you around. Better not be late, with Sam on the warpath." He hugged his friend. "Fly safe".

"Drive safe!"

Paul checked that the baggage compartment was properly locked before he entered the bus and greeted his passengers once more. "My name's Paul Reeves, I'll be your driver," he said, looking around at them. "If anyone has any queries, toilets you need, etcetera. Ask me now, else we're set to go." Paul looked around and was met with silence. "Okay". He slid into the driver's seat.

He glanced at the strangers in the rear-view mirror before keying the ignition. The whole bus shuddered into action. Before going to head office, Paul planned a stopover at the petrol station to fuel up for the dreadfully long drive to the Snow Valley Lodge, a newly refurbished collection of old cabins near the summit of the mountains. It was designed at the request of the public, asking for a sanctuary where they would be able to experience the clean, crisp air of pure winter, snow and all.

From the gas station, Paul turned onto the main street and pulled up at the bus terminal. He turned to the passengers. "I just have to run inside and get the list with your names, we have to keep a record of our passengers." He jogged lazily toward the building and tried the door. It was locked but Sam has left an envelope wedged under the handle:

You left the list back here. I had to go to Hasting to sort out our new bus service. Don't know when I'll be back so take the list with you and bring it in next time. There have been a few cancellations so take note of who's there and who's not. 

Sam