Several heads began to nod.
Colton pointed at the flag. “We’re all citizens of this great country, and as long as we work together we will prevail.”
The sounds of panic and crying in the audience faded. People wiped away their tears. That was the American way. Grieve, and then get up and fight. These people were ready to do just that.
“Moving forward, I’m going to need your help protecting our town. I’m talking to all of you, residents and visitors alike. Last night each tourist became a citizen, too, and we need your help.”
John Palmer, a volunteer firefighter, stepped forward from the crowd. “I’ve got your back, Chief!” he shouted.
Within seconds, half of the gymnasium was offering their help and support.
Even Dale, the belligerent soldier he had disarmed the night before, was pumping his fist in the air and bellowing Ooh Rah. Colton couldn’t help but smile at that.
Don began clapping, and others soon joined in. But there was also another noise, a commotion coming from the side of the room. A sea of bodies parted to make way for two men rushing to the platform.
“Chief,” Jake said, gasping for air. “Chief, we need to talk to you.”
Looking back over the crowd, Colton said, “Can’t this wait?”
Jake stared back, eyes blazing with something he didn’t usually see in the burly police officer.
Fear.
“What is it?” Colton asked, keeping his voice low.
“I made contact with a senior airman out of Cheyenne Mountain,” Nathan explained. “He said there’s radiation heading our way in that storm. We have to get everyone to shelter.”
Colton’s heart hammered as he glanced back over the crowd.
“How long do we have?” he asked.
Nathan shook his head. “Not long. A little over two hours at this point.”
“Shit,” Colton said. He waved Gail over and relayed the news.
“We have a shelter here at the high school, another at the hospital, and a third back at town hall,” she said. “But what about people in the rural areas?”
“Jake, go get the bullhorn from the station and take your truck out to notify people they need to get indoors. They should put plastic sheets and tape over their windows, if they can, and get their livestock and pets under cover. They should protect their water wells, too. Tell them to stay put until we give them the word.”
Jake nodded. “I’m on it.”
The large officer kept his hand on his cowboy hat as he hurried away.
Colton stepped back up to the podium. The only good news he had to offer was that these people wouldn’t have far to go to reach the nearest shelter. He took a deep breath and spoke in a calm, deep voice.
“Everyone, you all need to listen to what I say next very carefully.”
He felt the stares of a thousand people like a physical onslaught, but Marcus Colton would not let that deter him. What these people needed was a leader, and he was the best they were going to get.
“There’s a storm heading our way, and it could produce radioactive rain,” Colton said. Then he explained the basic steps to secure their homes for the people who wanted to return to their families. Everyone else would take shelter in the well-stocked basement of the high school. People began moving right away, and he stepped away from the podium to give orders to his officers. He’d need all of them on the streets, directing people to the closest shelters. He asked Don to remain behind at the school, and he directed Mayor Andrews to head back to town hall with her staff.
Kelly and Risa rushed over to him, and Colton reached for their hands.
“Dad, was that little girl you were talking about, Melissa?” Risa asked, tears welling up in her eyes. “One of my friends said she was killed.”
Colton shared a stricken look with Kelly. They’d wanted to protect their little girl from the harsh truth—and, if he was honest, to protect themselves from the heartache of seeing her innocence fade. But by doing so, they’d ended up hurting her even more.
“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry...” Colton realized he didn’t have time to explain anything to Risa right now.
“Chief Colton,” said Nathan, limping over to them. “What about Raven?”
“What about him?”
Colton cursed when he remembered that he had sent Raven out to Prospect Mountain. They had left him up there without a vehicle, and he was likely deep in the woods, out of range of the bullhorn. Raven was a cunning son of a bitch and a former recon Marine, but that wouldn’t save him from radiation-laced rain.
Wet gravel crunched under Raven’s boots. He was in tracking mode, completely alert and aware of his surroundings. He had put every other concern out of his mind, including the guilt he felt for the North Korean attack.
The spectacular views up here helped, with the Rocky Mountains to the west and Lake Estes to the east. But the oncoming storm ruined the picture. It was rolling west across the horizon, and Estes Park looked to be directly in its path.
“Great,” Raven muttered. He was itching for a cigarette, but he pulled his Seattle Mariners hat and his poncho from his backpack instead. He threw them on and then jogged after his dog. The road twisted up the mountain, curving off onto private drives that he hadn’t even known existed. Many of the properties were blocked off by high fences with elaborate metal gates, but he could make out the enormous houses beyond.
So this is how rich people live, he mused.
Not everybody up here was rich, of course. For every mountaintop mansion, there were trailers and ramshackle cabins tucked onto parcels of heavily wooded land. He continued to climb, and soon he reached a black metal gate across the road. Pulling out the laminated map Colton had given him, he checked his location. The road beyond led to the aerial tramway on the other side of the mountain.
He was a tracker, but if he was going to find the killer, he was going to need to think like a cop. Melissa was seen getting off her bus near here before she vanished, and Bill Catcher’s place wasn’t far. It seemed likely that the killer had a base around here somewhere, but there were too many possibilities. He could be squatting in someone’s summer vacation home or holed up in a camper out of sight from the main road.
He forced himself to see the world as a two-dimensional canvas again, summoning up his force recon training. So far he had found nothing. No sign of the blue F-150, or a camp. Without any other clues, he was at a loss.
No way in hell am I going back to Colton empty-handed, he thought.
He raised his crossbow and whistled at Creek. They turned and made their way back down the road toward Bill Catcher’s place. Thunder boomed in the distance, and lightning flashed in the black fortress of clouds.
A yellow mist seemed to lead the mass of clouds as they rolled over the mountains. It reminded him of a dust storm in Iraq, but the odd part of this storm was the black swell in the meat of the clouds.
Raven stopped to listen as something that sounded like a bullhorn squawked in the distance. The noise continued for another minute, but it was so faint he couldn’t make out any of the words.
He started walking again, and then fell into a jog with Creek by his side. They ran for nearly twenty minutes, keeping low and quiet along the side of the road. Raven put every worry out of his mind and focused on the hunt. His first stop was Bill Catcher’s place to search for clues that Colton’s people might have missed.
The distant clap of thunder followed them as they ran down the road leading to Bill’s house. Raven crouched by the fence and scanned the area. There was no movement other than a few loose chickens.
Creek sat on his haunches, waiting for orders. Raven gave a low whistle, and the dog took off running into the woods framing the property. He trusted the Akita to leave the poultry alone; the dog had more self-discipline than most people he knew, including himself.
Raven shouldered his crossbow and ran across the front yard. When he got to the porch, he took a deep breath and kicked open the door.
He hurried back outside, checking the sky. Sheets of rain were coming down on the mountains now. If he wanted to stay dry, he’d have to wait the storm out here.
Raven continued to the field behind the house where Jake and Nathan had discovered Bill’s body. Creek was sniffing the ground under a tree, exploring the remains of a bonfire. Overhead, a severed rope hung from a thick branch, swinging in the wind. Creek moved on to another, smaller tree nearby. The dog sat beneath it and looked at Raven expectantly.
“What? What did you find, boy?”
Raven checked his six and then walked over. Creek pawed at something on the ground, and Raven knelt to check it out. A square of paper, grimy at the edges, was half-hidden in the tall grass.
Setting his crossbow on the ground, Raven knelt and picked the paper up. It was a crude drawing, partly obscured by a tear near the top. Raven glanced around and noticed a hunting knife sticking out of the hanging tree; the killer could have used it to pin the paper beside the dead man, but the wind must have ripped it away.
He returned his attention to the drawing. Two male stick figures stood in the center, and he could clearly make out their long, dagger-like teeth. More figures lay at their feet, their prone bodies riddled with arrows. A wavy line curved around them, and he realized it was supposed to be a stream or river.
Goose flesh rose across his arms and legs when he realized what the scene meant.
This chase wasn’t just a killer. He was acting out a story from Raven’s childhood, a story that had haunted him for years.
The Water Cannibals had come to Estes Park.
-16-
Charlize Montgomery stood at the top of a grassy hill, gripping the handle of her son’s toy truck. Ty sat inside, holding onto the steering wheel, his eyes glued to the slope that probably looked like a mountain to him.
“Go, go, go!” he shouted.
Smiling, Charlize growled to mimic the sound of an engine. Ty slapped the side of the steering wheel with delight.
That was her signal to get moving.
She pushed, and the plastic wheels rolled over the fresh-cut grass toward the playground below. Charlize kept a strong grip on the handle and sped up. The other kids were playing and laughing. Some were climbing on equipment, others were running and throwing a football. All things Ty would likely never do, but for a few moments he was having more fun than all of the other kids combined.
“Faster, Mom!” he yelled.
The truck jerked up and down over the lumpy ground, but Charlize kept up their speed. Whenever Ty spun the wheel to the right or left, Charlize turned the car in that direction. She continued growling to imitate the sound of a motor. Overhead, a jet echoed the noise, roaring across the heavens. She searched the sky out of habit to see if she could identify the aircraft.
They were almost to the bottom of the hill when a flash of blinding light bloomed over the Denver skyline. Charlize nearly lost her grip on the handle at the sight of a fireball climbing into the air. She dug her heels into the grass to stop their descent and fell on her butt.
The truck fishtailed, and Ty screamed. She had to let go to shield her eyes from the light. A wave of blistering heat pressed her body to the ground as Ty continued screaming, his voice rising into a high, eerie wail like a klaxon.
“Ma’am, can you open your eyes?”
The voice was unfamiliar, and it sounded both far away and close at the same time.
Charlize forced her burned eyelids open, squinting at several blurred figures standing above her.
“Where…where am I?” she asked. The words came out as a whisper.
“You’re safe, Senator,” said the voice. It was familiar. Richard? No, Big Al! Her fingers quested over the blanket covering her body, and they found the huge, warm hand of her bodyguard.
“Where’s Clint?” she asked. Charlize had a vague memory of asking the question before, but she couldn’t remember the answer. She struggled to sit up. She had to find her chief of staff. They had to get that bill filed before the next session of Congress, and she needed him to set up a meeting with the agriculture board.
“Don’t try to move,” a woman’s voice said. “You were severely injured.”
Her vision finally cleared enough to make out the faces of the people looking down on her. Albert was wrapped in so much medical gauze that he looked like a mummy, but he was smiling at her. Not his usual megawatt grin, but a smile nonetheless. The other two people were strangers. A man and a woman, both of them wearing scrubs and lab coats.
“Where am I?” Charlize repeated. “And who are you?”
The woman answered. “You’re aboard the USS John C. Stennis,” she explained. “I’m Dr. Huppert. This is Dr. Rodriguez.”
“Where’s Clint?” she asked.
Albert’s smile faded away. “He didn’t make it, ma’am.”
Charlize took in a long breath and winced. “No,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry,” Albert said. “They did everything they could for him, but he was just too badly burned.”
Charlize pushed the grief aside for later. For now, she had to focus. But her body hurt so badly, and stars moved across her vision. She felt like she was going to be sick.
“Where are we?” she managed to say.
“Three hundred miles east of Maryland, sailing south to avoid fallout,” Huppert said.
“My son, he’s in Colorado. I have to get to him.” She palmed the bed and attempted to sit up again, but she was immediately hit by a wave of agonizing pain.
Huppert raised a hand. “Ma’am, you’re not going anywhere. You have first degree burns on over fifty percent of your body, second degree burns on your face, and third degree burns to your right hand. You’re also being treated for radiation sickness. You’re lucky you were evacuated when you were, or you might not have made it.”
“I have to get to Ty. He can’t run from the fire.” In her mind, she was back in her nightmare as the hellish flames of nuclear blast swept toward her son. She struggled against the hands now holding her down. Why didn’t they understand? She had to get to her baby.
“Calm down, Senator,” Huppert said. “I’m going to sedate you now for your own safety.”
“My baby,” Charlize mumbled. “I have to…”
A heavy numbness began to spread through her body. She fought to hold her eyes open for a few minutes longer before giving in to the darkness.
Colton felt like a bus driver as he drove through downtown. The Jeep was packed full. Mayor Gail sat in the passenger seat beside him, while his wife and daughter huddled in the back seat with Nathan. Tom Feagen had gallantly volunteered to ride back in the cargo area, but he seemed to be regretting the decision now.
Risa was crying, and Kelly was stroking her hair in an attempt to calm their daughter.
“It’s okay, Risa,” Colton said, wishing he could pull over and hold his baby girl. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
His words felt like a lie. The town he was sworn to protect was falling into chaos. Citizens ran toward the shelter at town hall. An old man fell, but no one stopped to help. People were yelling and trying to wave his vehicle down. To the west, the storm was growing.
“This is madness,” Feagen said.
“We’ll be okay,” Colton said, trying to sound as though he believed his own words. “The shelters are well stocked. They can take care of the whole town for a few days.”
“And if we have to stay longer than that?” Feagen asked.
“We make do,” Gail said.
Colton caught her gaze in the rear review mirror. The mayor was handling this surprisingly well. They’d clashed often, but he was beginning to think that she might actually be a capable leader.
“Okay fine, but what about when we come out? What if everything is poisoned?” Feagen asked.
Colton tried to remember the FEMA certification he’d done several years ago, but he couldn’t recall the specifics for dealing with the
aftermath of a nuclear event. Honestly, he’d thought the scenario was so far-fetched that he hadn’t given it enough attention.
“That’s a possibility, but we will figure it out,” he said. “Everything outside will need to be scrubbed down, and we’re going to have to clear the soil before we can plant anything in the spring.”
Suddenly, Gail screamed. Colton whipped his head around to find her pointing at the storefronts that lined the main street. Somebody had thrown a rock through the window of her art gallery. The plate glass window lay in shards across the sidewalk.
“I’m sorry, Gail,” he said, returning his focus to the road just as a woman darted in front of him. He slammed on his brakes, and the tires skidded to a stop, the bumper just a foot away from her. She gave him the bird and then continued after the mob of people running for town hall through Bond Park.
Colton took in a long breath and said, “Is everyone okay?”
Kelly nodded and put her arms around Risa. Slamming on the brakes seemed to have shocked their daughter so much that she’d stopped crying. Colton drove around the throng of citizens toward the rear of town hall. The back door to the station opened as soon as he pulled up to it, and Detective Lindsey Plymouth rushed out to meet them.
As everyone got out of the Jeep, Colton prepared for more bad news.
“We’re headed to the shelter,” Gail said, casting a backward glance at her store. She took off with Feagen, leaving Colton with his family and Nathan.
Lindsey brushed a lock of red hair away from her face as she approached the Jeep. “We have a situation at the grocery store, Chief. People are trying to stock up on food before the storm, and apparently things are out of control.”
“Who do we have stationed there?”
“Just Nelson,” she said. “We’re spread pretty thin.”
Colton thought of the rookie officer with a wife and a newborn at home. Then he looked at his own family.
“I need to go check this out, Kelly,” Colton said. “Make sure everyone gets to the shelter safely, Lindsey.”
Trackers (Book 1) Page 18
