by Clayborn, JJ
“No!” James shouted, surprising himself. “Tell them to get out of there!”
“Fuck!” Scofield’s cry explained everything. “Chopper is quiet now too. Dead silence. What the hell is going on in those woods?”
Sheriff Long answered. “I don’t know, but I intend to find out. I’ll keep you all posted. In the meantime, set up roadblocks and quarantines. No one comes in or out of those woods.”
The sheriffs started to agree, but James interrupted. “I’m not sure how much good that will do, Sheriff. What we’re seeing right now is an affected area of approximately 300 square miles. The worst part is that this area is expanding. By my estimate it’s nearly doubled in size over the last 48 hours. If that continues, then Ashland, Waterford, and even Holly Springs will all be within the boundary of ….whatever this is.”
Sheriff Long nodded at James. “Still, I’m going to take what precautions we can.” He spoke into the phone. “Set up the quarantine and let me know the minute you have any trouble.” Sheriff Long hung up the phone and grabbed his cowboy hat. “Come on, James.”
Hutchinson followed behind him. “Where are we going?”
The old sheriff smiled as he climbed in the patrol car. “I’ve got a friend who owes me a favor, he runs the local gun shop. We’re going to get supplies.”
Sunday, November 16th
The door chimed as Sheriff Larry Long and Ranger James Hutchinson entered the shop. A tall muscular man of Asian descent looked up at them.
“Sheriff Long, it’s nice to see you round here. What can I do for you?” the store owner said.
The sheriff pointed at James, “Jamee, this is Forest Ranger James Hutchinson.” He turned to James and pointed at the store owner. “James, this is Jamee Chiu, an old buddy of mine from the Marine Corps.”
“Call me Hutch,” James said as he and Jamee shook hands.
The sheriff continued, addressing Jamee. “There’s something peculiar going on over in the forest and we need to put together a posse to go check it out. I’m hoping that we can lease some extra firepower from you for a while. I’ll reimburse you, of course.”
Jamee nodded, smiling. “Sure, whatever you need, Gunny.” Jamee walked over to the racks and began pointing out selections. “I’m got small bore rifles, an assortment of shotguns, and the handguns are over here in this counter.”
Sheriff Long looked around. “We’ll take them.”
“Take what?” Jamee asked, slightly confused.
“All of them,” Hutchinson explained. “We need everything you can spare.”
Larry leaned on the counter, closer to Jamee. “Do you have anything bigger? I know you’ve got a class 3 license… any automatics, grenades, anything like that?”
Jamee’s smile morphed into a frown. “What the hell is going on, Gunny? You wouldn’t be asking for that kind of firepower for regular posse runs.”
Hutchinson shook his head. “We have no idea.”
Sheriff Long elaborated for Jamee. “People keep disappearing. Then they come back acting weird, then they appear normal right before disappearing again. Most of Hutchinson’s Rangers are MIA. I’ve got two officers that this happened to, and right now we just lost contact with 9 patrol cars and a helicopter and we have no idea what’s going on.”
“The affected area is almost 300 square miles and growing,” Hutchinson added.
“We need to get boots on the ground and get a visual on what’s happening,” said Long.
Jamee stared at them for a moment; his expression deadpan. “You’re serious right now? You’re not joshing me?” His eyes squinted as he regarded them suspiciously.
“Dead serious,” Long and Hutchinson said in unison.
Jamee turned around without a word and began stacking all of the weapons on the counter. As fast as he could stack them, James was taking them out to the truck and putting them in the back. As he was loading the supplies Larry Long stepped outside to make a phone call.
“This is Sheriff Long over in Marshall County. I need to speak with Governor Smith right away.” He climbed into the cab of his truck to have a little more privacy. “No, it can’t wait. It’s an emergency. I don’t care what he’s doing; I need to talk to him.” Larry drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited on hold. He nodded to Hutchinson who made several trips back and forth with more guns and ammo. The phone clicked.
The governor got right to the point. “Sheriff Long, I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I heard that you had an emergency. What’s going on?”
“Governor, you need to declare a State of Emergency and mobilize the National Guard,” the Sheriff declared.
All pretense of casual conversation disappeared. “That’s a very serious demand, Sheriff. Why would I do that?”
“There’s a situation at the Holly Springs Forest,” Sheriff Long explained. “People have turned up missing, then they turn up, go missing again, we’re talking about almost a hundred people so far.”
The Governor was not convinced. “That’s very serious, but why would people missing in the woods be a job for the National Guard? Why not just call the Forest Service?”
“Sir, that’s what I’m trying to tell you – the Forest Rangers have already been affected. They’re missing too.”
“The rangers are missing?” The governor asked, a small measure of incredulity creeping into his voice. “All of them?”
Larry nodded to himself as he spoke. “All but one, yes. He’s here with me. We’ve got to act fast before it spreads and more people are affected. Major cities are in danger now.”
There was a pause. “Sheriff, before what spreads? What’s affecting these people? What are the cities in danger of? ”
Sheriff Long sighed. “We have no idea, sir. It’s some kind of mysterious fog.”
“Wait,” the governor said sternly. “You mean to tell me that you want to me dispatch the National Guard and declare an emergency because of some magic fog that’s eating people up and making them crazy?”
“Well, it does sound crazy when you put it like that, but yes. That’s exactly what I’m asking,” Larry confirmed.
“Sheriff, I’ve got a state-wide budget crisis, a civil rights protest in Jackson, a labor dispute with unions, and about 37 other things to worry about right now. Magic Fog is not even on my list, let alone worrisome enough to mobilize the National Guard. Call me with real problems, Sheriff.”
Larry shouted into the phone before he could stop himself. “This is a real problem, asshole!”
“If you find something solid that I can go on, like an actual cause of the problem that doesn’t involve magic fog, we can talk. Until then, I’ve got more important things to do.” There was a pause. “And Sheriff, if you ever call me an asshole again, I’ll have your badge.”
The click of the call echoed in Larry’s ears. He threw his phone on the seat of the truck and slammed the door shut, heading back into the shop.
The door chimed as Larry entered and James and Jamee looked up at him, the question written on their faces.
“The governor’s not going to help. It’s up to us to find out what’s going on,” Sheriff Long explained.
The door chimed again. A woman in her mid-thirties of medium height entered the store. She looked around in confusion for a moment before Sheriff Long barked at her.
“Store’s closed today. You should come back later,” he said dismissively.
She had turned to leave, but Jamee called out to her. “Mary, hang on a minute.” Jamee ignored the sheriff’s look and explained. “Gentlemen, Mary Wood is a columnist for the Daily Star – the newspaper.”
The change of expression on the Sheriff’s face was immediate. He turned around with a smile and removed his hat, extending his hand. “My apologies, ma’am. I thought you were just a regular customer. I’m Sheriff Long…” he started to say.
She cut him off with a look. “I know who you are, Sheriff.” She shook his hand. “I’ve written about your department before.”
Hutchinson also shook her hand. “Why are you here in the gun shop?” James asked.
Mary cocked her cock and shot him a silly grin, as though the answer should be obvious. “I’m a reporter. Sometimes my job takes me into rough parts of town. I like to go prepared.”
“So you just carry it for looks?” Sheriff Long asked.
Jamee answered on her behalf. “No, Mary is a certified Pro Marksman. She’s a damned good shot. She could probably outshoot half of your department.”
Larry nodded with raised eyebrows. “Okay, Mary, how would you like access to an exclusive story?”
“What’s the catch?” Mary asked with squinted eyes.
“The catch is that you need to publish an article to your paper’s website, today – right now,” Larry explained. Sheriff Long filled her in on the details of what’s been happening as she wrote notes.
“And you want me to publish that story?” Mary asked. “You’re giving me the exclusive?”
“More than that,” Larry said. “I want you to publish a call to action. We need some extra hunters to come down and join us. We’re planning an excursion into the woods…” Sheriff Long was a little annoyed when Mary started texting, but he continued. “They need to meet us a Chiu’s Tactical in two hours. Can you post that?”
Mary smiled and laughed. “Hon,” she waived her phone in her hand. “I just did. It went live as you were talking.”
The next two hours was a flurry of activity. The Deputies from the station came down and joined Long and Hutchinson at Chiu’s Tactical. A slow, steady stream of volunteers began to show up. Many had their own weapons already loaded and ready. Those who wanted to help but were unarmed were loaned weapons by Chiu.
At the end of the two hour mark there were 30 deputies and 50 armed volunteers in the posse. They gathered everyone together in a big circle around the truck. Ranger Hutchinson and Sheriff Long climbed up into the bed so that they could shout to the crowd. The tension was palpable. Everyone was on edge, but none of the volunteers knew exactly what to expect. The deputies only had a slightly better idea.
“Thanks for coming everyone,” the sheriff shouted to the crowd. They stopped milling about and turned to face him. “I’m going to be honest with you …this is the strangest shit I’ve ever seen.” He shook his head. “Not even in the military or during all my time as sheriff. I have absolutely no idea what we are going to run into.”
Hutchinson stepped in. “What we do know is that dozens of people are now missing. There’s a thick fog that covers the area. The fog is coming from a meteor impact site.”
On cue, Jamee Chiu brought out several boxes of gas masks and began distributing them to everyone.
James continued. “I think this might be caused by some kind of biological agent, maybe a virus…”
“A space virus?” someone in the crowd asked.
James shrugged. “Basically. It’s the most logical hypothesis. We just need to get close enough to get a sample. Once we have that, we can figure out how to fight it.”
“So, if it’s just a space virus, why all of the guns?” another volunteer asked.
The sheriff answered. “In case we’re wrong. We really don’t know what’s going on. Hutch thinks it’s a virus, but he’s only guessing. It could be something else entirely.” He took his hat off and wiped his brow with the back of his hand, put his hat back on and continued. “We do know that when we’ve lost contact with the patrols we sent it was immediate. We don’t know if there’s radiation or an EM field, or something causing interference with the radios. We just have no idea.”
“Well, we’re going to find out!” Someone from the crowd shouted, followed by a chorus of “yeah!”
“The gas masks you were provided will filter for many known chemical, biological, radiological, and nuclear contaminants. It’s no guarantee that it will work, but it’s better than nothing,” Hutchinson explained.
Sheriff Long broke down the mission. “Hutchinson and I will lead the caravan. All traffic in and out of the forest has stopped. The convoy drive two cars wide into the woods. We’ll stop within one mile of the target site and proceed in on foot.”
Chiu produced several bags of radios and began passing them out.
Larry provided instructions. “Everyone get into teams of two, deputies partner with a civilian. One radio per team. When we arrive on site we will spread out and use the radios to check in. If you see anything at all, report it,” Larry instructed. “Radios on channel 8. Maintain a radio blackout during the drive out unless it’s an emergency – no idle chatter. Put your gas masks on as soon as we get to the forest.”
Sheriff Long and Hutchinson jumped out of the truck and the crowd dispersed in pairs. Larry found Mary and pulled her aside. “I promised you the exclusive story, and you’ll get it. But I really need you to stay here.”
Mary scoffed. “Because I’m a woman?”
Larry shook his head furiously. “Not at all. It’s because you’re important – probably the most important person here. You have direct access to the media. If we’re wrong about what’s out there…”
Mary nodded. “You want me to be able to push the story… and I can’t do that if I’m dead.”
Sheriff Long grasped her shoulder reassuringly. “Exactly. I’ll radio back as soon as we learn of something.” Larry nodded to his car with his head and spoke to James. “Let’s go.”
The caravan formed up over the course of several minutes. Larry and James were in the Sheriff’s pickup in the front, and a caravan of about 50 vehicles stretched behind them. A pair of police cruisers took up the last two positions and signaled to the lead car that everyone was in position.
After crossing into the forest Larry slowed the truck and slipped on his gas mask while James did the same. A few minutes later the convoy was driving along, approaching the boundary where the other cars had disappeared. Thin tendrils of blue-white fog lapped at the ground on both sides of the road. Hutchinson gripped the door of the truck as they approached the invisible marker. He wasn’t aware he had been tensing up until he relaxed after they passed the marker without incident.
Larry turned to James and gave a half-smile. “To be honest, that went better than I expected,” he said, his voice muffled somewhat by the gas mask.
As the convoy pressed deeper into the forest the fog thickened. Only the reflective markers in the center of the road helped Larry find his way. James kept running his hands along his arms, absentmindedly trying to calm himself.
Larry parked the truck and the others began to pull up around him. It took several minutes for the whole team to arrive. Larry communicated the instructions with hand signals. He hoped that everyone understood the gestures. He knew his deputies would, but he wasn’t so sure about the hunters – they seemed to have their own individual signals.
He pointed to himself and held up his index finger, then to James and held up his index finger. Then he moved them both together and stood beside James. “Stay Together,” he hoped they understood.
He made more gestures. “Look around. Watch Each other. Stay Close. Radio in if you see something.” He knew the officers and any veterans in the posse would understand.
Everyone seemed to nod in agreement. That would have to do. Larry instructed half of the group to go one way, and the other half to the other side. They would slowly stretch out into a line, not moving further away than line of sight of another pair – he hoped.
James nodded to Larry as they readied their rifles and moved out, the rest of the posse spreading out on both sides of them. The fog grew thicker the closer they got to the impact site. After just a few moments the visibility was so bad that they could only see the closest member of the posse.
James and Larry inched forward, the dark outline of the cliff edge approaching. The two men stood on the precipice of the cliff and looked down into the valley below. A tense quiet hung over the woods. For a moment, nothing happened. The fog over the central part of the valley thinned somewhat
and a faint blue light could be seen glowing eerily from the crater below. James and Larry exchanged bewildered looks just before the radios squealed and then fell quiet. James heard it before Larry and James ducked, looking around wildly. Shouting broke out all along the line, quickly followed by the sounds of gunfire.
Sunday, November 16th
James and Larry crouched down, back to back, and readied their rifles. The peppered sound of automatic rifle fire echoed through the canyon. Shouts filled the air. The smell of gunpowder assaulted their noses as the thick fog obscured their vision.
“What’s happening? What are they shooting at?” James shouted, pointing his rifle in the direction he thought the gunfire was coming from.
“No idea!” Larry said, pointing his rifle in the other direction. “This damn fog is impossible!”
Shouting and gunfire filled the air. Several screams pierced the staccato rhythm.
“What are we doing, Sheriff?” James asked.
“Do you have eyes on anyone?” Larry asked, trying to see through the fog.
“No, no one,” James said, quickly scanning the woods for even the smallest trace of the others.
A loud crack off to the side startled them. In unison they both swung their rifles towards the sound, only to see a blurry shape running towards them. After a moment they could make out that the shape was Jamee Chiu. With a sigh of relief they lowered their weapons.
Before either of them could say anything, another shape - thinner, and strange looking - dropped from the trees behind Chiu. James and Larry both raised their rifles, but the thing grabbed Jamee from behind. He cried out, his arms outstretched pleadingly, but with surprising force and speed he was dragged backward, out of view. An empty void persisted in the fog where he had stood just a moment before.
