Even if something unexpected did pop up, Mayor Buckley advised him to call the County Sheriff’s Department or the State Troopers for help. But that conversation was three weeks ago. Long before what had happened today.
Now the town was facing a sweeping power outage and most of the electronics in town had been fried. Communications were down, and so was his ability to call in backup.
The tuck of Gus’ shirt was off a bit thanks to the heft around his middle. He adjusted it, straightening the wrinkles out and tightening the fit under the belt.
The new diet wasn’t working very well, but he wasn’t quite ready to give up on it. Truth was, it wasn’t the diet’s fault, or the fault of old Doc Marino for insisting on it after the mandatory physical Mayor Buckley forced him to take prior to being sworn in as town sheriff.
The additional weight gain was due to the endless string of hot fudge sundaes and servings of hot cherry pie a la mode that seemed to find their way into his belly each night after work. Well, that and the fact his new mountain bike and helmet were still virgins and sitting in the corner of his office behind him.
His late-night bingeing wasn’t because he had a runaway sweet tooth or some kind of sugar craving. No, it was because of the new waitress in town. She was a real looker and he simply couldn’t help himself when his shift ended.
Gus’ feet seemed to have a mind of their own, taking him to Billy Jack’s Cafe and forcing him to go inside and sit at the front service counter. The draw to the middle stool was undeniable, and so was his attraction to the new, friendly waitress who worked that section each night.
So far their interactions had been sparse and limited to typical server-patron style banter. He wanted to ask her out, but the platinum blonde in her late forties, Allison Rainey, hadn’t given him any indication she was interested. But he was still hopeful, nonetheless.
Allison, like him, had a few miles on her, but her depth of spirit, beaming smile, and cheerful personality had already captured his heart. So had her perfect backside, catching his eye whenever she turned and walked away. He couldn’t help but stare and wonder what her curves would feel like in his hands.
He wasn’t sure if the spark he felt would ever lead anywhere, but maybe something might happen down the road. His plan was to remain patient and keep smiling at her. Eventually she might look past his obvious physical flaws and get to know the real him.
A knock came at the door. “Chief? We really need you out here,” said Daisy Clark, his deputy and former beauty queen of the Miss Sunflower Festival ten years prior. “Chief?”
“Be right out, Daisy,” Gus yelled after turning his neck to aim his voice out of the bathroom and at the office door.
He brought his attention back to the mirror. His sausage fingers were busy tacking on the newly-minted nameplate above the front pocket of his official uniform. Brown and tan weren’t exactly his colors, but he really didn’t have a say in the matter.
The placard’s reflection showed the letters in his last name backwards, much like his life felt at the moment. Everything he knew had been twisted around and intensified, just like the knot raging in his stomach. He knew the pain wasn’t going to disappear until he went out there and did what he needed to do.
He sucked in a full rush of air and let it out slowly through his lips. “It’s now or never. You’ve got this, old man.”
Gus figured if he nodded with confidence while making strong eye contact and listening to the citizens’ questions, he could fake it until his brain came up with some poignant words to offer his fellow Clearwater residents.
It wasn’t like he was completely inexperienced with small town politics or the basics of law enforcement, but this whole protect and serve mantra was going to be something new and challenging. Especially on a full-time basis.
In effect, the Mayor had drafted him into service, something Gus never saw coming. Maybe the term drafted wasn’t the right word to use—railroaded might be a better choice.
He rolled his eyes, knowing that when a master chef, like Mayor Seth Buckley, seasoned the guilt ever so perfectly, an honorable person had little chance to resist. Or say no.
His time on this Earth had taught him a great many things about people and their tendencies. He knew what was coming. No matter how well he handled this new job, or even the next ten minutes, many of the residents would always see him as the middle-aged town planner and not the new sheriff. Respect and trust were going to be hard-earned and he accepted that as he turned and headed for the office door.
Gus knew from all his readings that sometimes a turn of events is so profound that it actually changes a person’s DNA, almost like a cascading chain reaction at the cellular level, transforming a man into something else. The question was, what would that something be?
Usually the triggering event came in the form of some horrific personal tragedy, but maybe, just maybe, the crisis waiting for him outside would elevate him into a better man—a man filled with confidence and leadership skills. Not a loner who preferred a good book and a glass of wine, rather than the close proximity of the public and all their paranoia.
When his hand landed on the doorknob and his fingers began to turn it, he realized his future and that of the four hundred-plus residents in town were now on a high-speed collision course.
CHAPTER SIX
Stephanie King kept pace with Bunker’s steps as she watched her son run ahead to pick up a three-foot-long tree branch. Jeffrey started using it as a walking stick, acting like he’d done this hiking thing a million times before.
She brought her eyes to the tall man next to her, unable to keep from staring at the bandages on his neck. They stuck out like a ketchup stain on a white shirt, drawing her eyes every chance they got.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” she asked Bunker as her feet took her forward on the dirt path.
“Yeah, sure.”
“What’s the deal with those bandages? At first I thought you cut yourself shaving, but that’s not likely. Not on both sides of your neck, unless you really suck at it. So I’m guessing it’s some kind of skin condition. Or maybe you had recent surgery or something along those lines. Am I close?”
“Sort of,” Bunker said, never taking his eyes from the road ahead. His face was stiff and focused, but the sudden redness in his cheeks told her that the question resonated with him.
Her voice stammered a bit. “Hey, I don’t want to butt in and all that, but I’m kind of curious. I think it would help if we got to know each other a bit more. Don’t you think?”
“Normally, yes. But some things are a little too painful to share with just anybody. You know how people are. They talk. They gossip. They pass judgment. Then the rumors start, taking on a life of their own. Long before anybody ever gets a chance to know the person they’re gossiping about.”
“I get it. People have been judging me all my life,” she said, putting her hands under her ample breasts and pushing them up. “Especially when you’re born with these. I can’t help it that I’m prettier than most women. I mean, come on, really? Trashing someone just because they have a nice figure. God, I hate people who judge.”
She waited for a reaction from him, but none came. “But I know what you mean, Bunker. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“Well, that’s not what I meant exactly. I don’t mind you asking, but right now doesn’t feel like the right time to me. We need to focus on getting back to town.”
“Understood, loud and clear. We all have our secrets.”
“Yes, we do, and I appreciate you respecting my privacy. For now, let me just say that these bandages are connected to the man I used to be. A past I’m trying to forget.”
“Yeah, I hear ya. My past isn’t something I want to remember, either. Well, my recent past, that is.”
“Everyone has baggage these days.”
“Me more than most. My entire life seems like a string of bad decisions. Except for Jeffrey, of course.”
She smiled, feeling a connection starting to form with the ruggedly handsome man. “It does,” she said, lowering her voice so Jeffrey wouldn’t hear. “Sounds like you and I are not all that different. Nothing on this planet is ever easy, especially after a seriously nasty divorce from the town slut. And when I say slut, I mean a total man-whore. But sometimes a girl just has to rise above all the drama and change everything, including her address. That’s why Jeffrey and I were on our way to Denver—to go live with my mother and her four brothers. My family has a big ranch up there. Jeffrey thinks we were just going for a visit, so please don’t say anything.”
“I won’t. But he’s a smart boy. He would have figured it out soon enough.”
“Yeah, he would have. But I wanted to get a little distance from my ex first.”
“I can appreciate that.”
“Like you, I got to that point where I decided to leave everything behind and get as far away from Clearwater as possible, but still not leave the state. You know, shared custody rules and all.”
“I didn’t realize that’s why you needed to be in Denver. I’m sorry. I never should’ve made you turn around and head back to your past. But there’s really not much of a choice at the moment.”
“It’s not a huge deal, really. It was my decision for us to tag along with you, remember?”
He nodded.
She continued, “I probably need to grow a pair anyway. Besides, it’s not like everybody in town hates me. Just some of the people who consider themselves better than everyone else. Like my ex and his family of mouth-breathers.”
“Yeah, I know the type. Thinking they are above the law and the rules don’t apply to them.”
“Exactly. But you know what? After everything that’s been said and done through this whole mess, the thing that probably pisses them all off the most is that I didn’t give back his name. I mean, it’s not like King is a famous name or anything. But it’s way better than my maiden name, Radiwanski. Nobody could ever say it right. Or God forbid, spell it.”
“I can see why you stayed with King. That’s a mouthful.”
A minute later, they rounded the corner and found Jeffrey waiting for them a short distance away. He was bobbing on his heels with an anxious look on his face.
“Do you have to go potty?” she asked her son.
“No, Mom. Look!” he said, pointing to his left.
After a few more steps, Stephanie could see her son standing next to a long stretch of pavement. Her chest filled with excitement. “Oh, the highway! It’s about time.”
“Probably isn’t far now,” Bunker said, stopping and putting his duffel bag on the ground after they made it to the hardtop. “We should probably take a break and rest for a minute. Can you turn around so I can get the bottles from your pack?”
Jeffrey grabbed her hand and tugged at it repeatedly.
She looked down at him. “What?”
Jeffrey whirled and aimed his arm down the two-lane highway. “Look, Mom!”
She brought her eyes up while Bunker continued to dig inside her backpack. It took a second for her vision to focus a few hundred yards down the road. But when she did, her mouth dropped open.
“What is that?” she asked, seeing something scattered across the roadway. Everywhere she looked, there were small black mounds.
“They’re birds, Mom. Dead birds. Lots of them. I ran back here to tell you.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Now folks, I need you all to please remain calm. I can’t answer all of you at once,” Sheriff Gus Apollo said to the two dozen citizens crowding in and around the reception desk.
Some of them he knew; others were strangers who did not visit town very often. Regardless, his heart was pounding under the pressure of a platoon of eyes burning a hole into his face.
Officer Daisy Clark was standing next to him, blowing her whistle in short, powerful bursts. She may have been short in stature, but she could fire that whistle like a champ.
Gus put his hand on Daisy’s arm, lightly persuading her to remove the whistle from her mouth. She dropped her arm, then looked at him.
“That’s not helping, Daisy.”
She nodded. “Sorry, Sheriff. I got a little caught up in the moment.”
“It’s understandable. Just let me handle it from here.”
“You need to send out a search party, Gus,” one of the younger men wearing a military style crew cut said. “My twin daughters are out there.”
“They should’ve been back by now,” a redheaded woman said as tears streamed down her face. “Something terrible must have happened. You need to do something, Sheriff.”
Gus nodded, making eye contact with several of the citizens. “Yes, we will. But first we all need to take a minute and catch our breath. There’s no reason to jump to conclusions here. They may have been running late and stopped somewhere to rest or use the bathroom. There’s no reason to think the worst. We don’t know anything at this point.”
“Exactly. We don’t know anything and neither do you,” an unidentified male voice said from the back.
“Why are you just standing there?” the older woman added, slapping her hand on the countertop. “My grandson is probably scared to death right now.”
“Look everyone, this is the first I’ve heard of the missing kids. You gotta give me a minute here.”
“What about the miners trapped in the shaft?” a slender man with curly blonde hair said. “We can’t leave my men down there. The backup batteries won’t last forever.”
Gus recognized him. It was William King, son of silver tycoon Henry King. Their family owned the Silver King Mine and had done so for three generations. Rumor had it he and his wife, Stephanie, had just concluded their contentious divorce.
“We’ll get to them, Bill. But we need to prioritize.”
“Yeah, the Sheriff’s right. Our kids come first, Bill,” the man with the flattop said.
“That’s not how I see it, Stan,” King said, shaking his finger at the square-jawed kid in his mid-twenties. “They have families, too.”
“Ah, that’s a bunch of bull. You just don’t want to take the chance that your silver goes missing,” Stan said with a bite to his words.
“You got it all wrong. This isn’t about money,” King fired back, his face flushing.
“Oh yes, it is. That’s all your family cares about. Trust me, my wife told me all about your underhanded dealings after she quit your compliance division.”
Gus wasn’t sure how to calm the escalating tensions in the room, including his own. Everyone was stressed, and he couldn’t blame them.
He looked at Daisy, and she back at him. Her eyes told him she was anxiously waiting for orders. “We’ll figure this out, Daisy. One step at a time.”
“We need the Mayor on this. Where is he?” the grandmother in the front row said, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She looked around. So did Gus. But there was no sign of Mayor Buckley.
Gus kept his cool, even though the 60-year-old’s lack of faith in his ability was obvious and not helping his confidence. “I’m sure he’ll be here any minute. Now, can any of you tell me where they were headed?”
“They went on a hike to spot birds for their nature class. Somewhere down by Clayton’s Ravine, I think. Not far from the old Gypsum mine on County Road C,” one of the other parents in the back said.
“Who’s driving?” Gus asked. “Does anyone know?”
“Richard Wilhelm,” the man with the short-cropped hair said.
“Wait, isn’t he the biology teacher?”
“Yeah, that’s the point. With all the recent budget cuts, he’s pulling double duty. He’s all by himself with our kids.”
“What happened to Joe Kassel?”
“They let him go a couple of weeks ago. Wilhel
m was the only one left with a commercial license, so the principal kinda volunteered him for the job.”
“Yeah, and he’s no spring chicken, either,” the redheaded woman added. “He’s older than me.”
“Martha’s right. I heard he’s got some kind of heart condition,” another man yelled from the back of the room.
Gus brought his head around but couldn’t identify who made the last comment.
“My God, what if he keeled over or something? Our kids might be stranded and all alone somewhere!” Martha added.
“I told the principal she never should’ve fired the only real bus driver we had. Especially now that we’re stuck with the year-round school sessions. But she never listens to what any of us have to say,” Stan with the short-cropped haircut said to the redheaded woman. “This is all her fault. That penny-pinching bitch!”
“Easy now, everyone. What did I say about overreacting?” Gus snapped, holding up his hands like a preacher.
“If you had kids out there, Sheriff, you’d be doing something by now,” a different woman’s voice said from the right.
* * *
Bunker stopped running and stood next to Stephanie and her son on the highway. As far as he could see, the road ahead was covered with dead birds. It looked like the pavement had a bad case of chickenpox—though the pox was black instead of red.
“Crows?” Stephanie asked.
“No, these are much bigger. Ravens, I think,” he said, bending down on one knee to get a closer look at one of the carcasses. He reached out with his hand, planning to grab the bird by its feet and turn it over.
“Wait! Don’t touch it!” Stephanie snapped. “It’s probably got some kind of horrible disease.”
Bunker realized she was right and pulled his hand back in a lurch. He took a few seconds to study more of the birds with his eyes. It looked like each of their necks had been mangled, just like the raven in front of him. “I think their necks are broken.”
Bunker (A Post-Apocalyptic Techno Thriller Book 1) Page 4
