“From the impact with the road?” she asked.
“I don’t think so, unless they were all dive-bombing the asphalt for some reason.”
“Maybe their radar got all messed up,” Jeffrey said. “My science lab game taught me that birds have a compass inside of them. It lets them find their way back home when they go on really long trips.”
“Yes, I think you’re right. I do remember reading something about birds using the Earth’s magnetic field for navigation,” Bunker said, nodding slowly. “When the EMP went off, it must have disrupted the magnetic lines in the area.”
“That’s a chilling thought,” Stephanie said, looking around the area. “What now?”
“We find our way around the carcasses and keep going.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sheriff Gus Apollo moved aside to let Mayor Buckley take center position in front of the crowd. Daisy moved a step back as the reception area quieted down to less than a whisper.
“Status report?” the Mayor asked in a raspy, authoritative voice.
“We’ve got some miners trapped, plus an overdue school bus.”
“Any reports of damage? Fires? Looting?”
“So far, all quiet. People are behaving. I think the worst is behind us in that respect.”
“Let’s hope you’re right,” the Mayor said with a hint of cynicism in his voice.
“Is there a problem I should know about, sir?”
The Mayor put a firm hand on Gus’s shoulder, turning and leading him away from the eavesdropping crowd.
Daisy joined them by taking position across from Gus, with her back to his office door.
The volume of Buckley’s voice dropped in half when he asked, “Do we have any Geiger counters?”
“Geiger counters? Are you serious?” Gus fired back.
“Deadly serious. We both know there’s only a handful of things that can knock out the power and the electronics across a wide area. And each of those things takes us down a very dark path. Literally.”
Gus glanced at Daisy and shot her a look of bewilderment, then brought his focus back to the Mayor. “If we have any, I haven’t seen them. But then again, I haven’t exactly had a chance to inventory our equipment and supplies since I took over this position. With that said, I can’t imagine something like that would just be lying around here somewhere. It’s not like they’re needed very often. If ever.”
The Mayor hesitated before he spoke again, looking like he was searching for just the right words. “Well, you were the town planner at one point in time. And a successful architect before that. Am I right?”
“Yes sir, on both counts. But what’s my job history got to do with Geiger counters?”
“I’m guessing that somewhere along the way you’ve designed a bomb shelter or two. Assuming I’m correct, which I usually am, then maybe one of your clients might have what we need. Correct me if I’m wrong, but wouldn’t the first thing you’d need to stock in a fallout shelter be a radiation detector?”
Before Gus could answer, one of the female residents shouted from behind them, “Excuse me, Mr. Mayor. I’m pretty sure my neighbor has a bomb shelter. It was a while ago, but I remember all the equipment in his yard, digging up everything. That conspiracy nut is always working on something.”
Buckley appeared shocked that someone overheard their guarded conversation. He brought his head around and so did Gus, both men looking to identify the woman who just interrupted their conversation.
“Which neighbor was it, Mrs. Rainey?” the Mayor asked.
“Frank Tuttle. His place is opposite mine at the end of Old Mill Road.”
“That’s across the old Henley Bridge, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, we’re the only two homes out there,” she answered. “Oh, and by the way, when are you planning to fix up the bridge? A bunch of the support beams are starting to rot. It’s the only way in or out, so if it falls, we’ll be stranded out there.”
“Yes, Ms. Rainey. I’m well aware. Let me assure you the town council is working on it. But I don’t have a repair date for you as yet. We’re facing a bit of a funding problem at the moment.”
Daisy cleared her throat. “Tuttle’s a bit trigger-happy, Mayor, but I’ve managed to build a good rapport with him over the years. I should probably be the one to go out there and see if he’ll let me rummage through his stuff. He’s not going to like it, but I’m sure I can smooth it over.”
While the Mayor and Daisy continued their conversation, Gus ran through the facts he’d just learned about some of the residents standing in his office.
He needed to begin memorizing information about every resident, even those who rarely came into town. Otherwise, he’d never become an effective small-town Sheriff.
The old redheaded woman’s name was Martha Rainey. The same last name as the new waitress in town. Her mother? If he was right, that’s where Allison might be staying.
Assuming he was correct, then the old woman’s grandson was Allison’s boy. A boy who was missing while on a school outing.
A tingle washed over Gus when he realized that the boy would be his way into Allison’s good graces, as long as her son came home in one piece. Then she’d have to notice him and possibly show some interest.
He ran the idea through his head one more time and came up with the same answer. A slight grin found its way to his lips—maybe this Sheriff gig wasn’t all bad.
The Mayor, Daisy, and Gus turned away from the crowd once again, huddling a little closer this time.
Gus made sure to keep his voice low when he spoke. “Assuming Daisy is able to find a Geiger counter at Tuttle’s place, then I’d suggest we take readings every hour over the next few days just to be sure radiation doesn’t find its way here.”
“Excellent idea,” the Mayor said.
“I’ll head over there now,” Daisy said, turning to walk away.
Gus stopped her with an arm grab. “Take the mountain bike in my office. God knows I’m never gonna use it.”
“Are you sure, Chief?” she asked.
“Positive. Someone might as well get some use out of it.”
“On it, boss,” she said, heading through the door and disappearing to the right. A few seconds later, she reappeared with an unstrapped helmet on her head, pushing his bike by the handlebars. She made her way through the buzzing crowd and out of the Sheriff’s office.
Gus needed to cover one more topic with the Mayor while he had the man’s attention. “Other than electricity, the next biggest problem is going to be transportation. Whatever just happened took out the vehicles, so it looks like we’re on foot for the foreseeable future.”
“What we need are more bicycles,” the Mayor added while rubbing his chin with two fingers.
“Ye Old Bike Shop on E Street has loads of them, sir.”
“That’s all well and good, but what we need are riders. Like my grandson, Rusty. He’s a freak on that racing bike of his, and I doubt there’s anyone faster. You should see his thighs now. They’re like tree trunks.”
“Is he still planning on trying out for the Olympics?”
“Yeah, but he's a long shot to make it. If nothing else, at least it gives him a goal to shoot for. And we all know how important that is for a young person. But he’s very reliable and can gather radiation readings from multiple places in town. I’m sure he’s gonna want to help.”
“Thank you, Mayor. We’re going to need all the help we can get. We'll probably need him to ferry communications from place to place, too.”
“Comms . . . right,” the Mayor said, nodding slowly. His eyes were thin and pinched, indicating he was deep in thought about something. “He’s got a few friends he trains with, too. I’ll see if Rusty can get some of them to help around town.”
Gus snickered, not realizing he did it loud enough for anyone else to hear.
“Something funny, Sheriff?”
He wanted to keep his amusement to himself, but couldn’t now. Not unless he wanted to
offend his boss. Gus cleared his throat and stammered a bit before his mind found the words he wanted to say.
“It’s funny how the tables can turn almost instantly. A few days ago, no one would’ve seen this coming, after all the complaints about the bicyclers clogging up the streets in town. Kinda poetic, don’t you think? Now they may end up being our lifeline for communications.”
The Mayor squinted a bit. “Yes, yes, it is. But history has proven time and again that desperation can yield a change in mindset. That’s how a society evolves. Why should this situation be any different?”
“Roger that, sir. Everyone’s gonna need to change their entire way of thinking now. At least until this crisis is over. Whatever this turns out to be,” Gus said, keeping the rest of his thoughts about the power outage to himself.
“Agreed,” the Mayor answered.
Gus was almost positive an EMP caused the grid and electronics failures, but wasn’t sure if it was the right time or place to bring it up, even after the Mayor had hinted at the very same cause a few minutes ago. He decided to move on to another topic.
“What about the riding stables?” Gus asked in a leading manner. “Bicycles are great for young people who are in shape, but what about for the rest of us? Altitude and steep hills are not something we old dogs can handle anymore.”
The Mayor nodded, obviously understanding what he was hinting at. “Excellent idea. We go old school. Franklin’s not going to like it, but we’ll need to commandeer some of his horses. I doubt his tourist season is gonna continue now, with what’s happening outside.”
“Exactly what I was thinking, sir.”
The Mayor nodded once, then slapped Gus on the back in a friendly manner. “I knew you’d find your sea legs and grow into this job, Gus. Only a matter of time. All you needed was a little incentive to grab the bull by the horns and run with it.”
Gus couldn’t hold back a smile when his heart filled with a swell of pride. The Mayor was right. The badge was starting to feel like it may have found a home on his chest. For now, anyway.
He was on a good roll, but he knew it was going to take more than a couple of clever ideas to solidify him as a respected sheriff. But it was a good start.
Emboldened by his momentum, Gus decided to throw out another idea. “We should probably think about activating the reserve unit, assuming we can track the team down. I’m not sure if they’re back yet from their annual fishing trip to Canada. I think they were supposed to arrive today.”
“Excellent idea. However, if you can’t find them, I authorize you to start deputizing the men you need. The time to act is now.”
“Absolutely. As soon as I can, I’ll send search and rescue teams out for the missing school bus and to help King with the miners.”
“Just make sure you’re very clear with the new men that this is a temporary assignment, nothing more. The town budget can’t afford to carry any more full-time salaries.”
“I’ll get right on it, sir. Is there anything else?”
The Mayor nodded. “Where are we on the backup generators?”
“The one for this building is toast. I tried to get it started earlier, but I think the electric start is out. Something tells me the rest of its electronics are fried as well. Just like what we’re seeing all across town with nearly everything.”
“Nearly?”
“The town hall’s genny is still working, albeit barely. Someone forgot to change the fuel and it degraded. I had the mechanic, Burt Lowenstein, take a quick look at it for us. He said he replaced the fuel and was able to get it started. It’s not running great and needs a complete overhaul, but Burt won’t do it unless he gets paid for his time. Oh, and he wants overtime.”
“That sounds about right,” Buckley said in a sarcastic voice. “Am I correct to assume it doesn’t have any electronics in it?”
“I really don’t know, sir. But it may not have mattered. With all the copper thefts a few years back, the town had secured it inside a metal cage to protect it. That cage might have shielded it from whatever took out the rest of our electronics.”
“Just dumb luck. But we’ll take it.”
“Couldn’t agree more, sir. Dumb luck is better than no luck at all.”
“That much is true. Something tells me this is going to get a lot worse before it gets better.”
CHAPTER NINE
Bunker felt a soft tug on his left elbow. And, like the other four yanks on his shirt in the past few minutes, it meant the inquisitive kid had yet another question.
“Mr. Bunker, does your grandmother live in Denver, too? Is that why you were on the train like us?”
Stephanie snapped at her son, “I think that’s enough questions for a while, Jeffrey. Let the man be.”
Bunker flashed a quick hand signal at her, wanting to stop her from dressing down her son any more. “Nah, it’s all good. I know he’s just curious. I would be, too, given the circumstances.”
Her frown evaporated and was replaced with a casual smile. “You should see him at home. He never stops. After a while, I find myself just tuning him out. I know that sounds horrible, but it’s better than yelling at him to be quiet all the time.”
“I understand. I’m the last person to judge anyone, on anything. Especially on how to raise kids,” he said, pausing for a few moments. “People have been judging me my whole life, so I refuse to go there. We all know kids are going to be kids and ask a ton of questions. That’s how they learn. I figure it’s best to just roll with it and not get impatient or short with them. I don’t care for most people on this rock, but for whatever reason, I always seem to get along great with kids. And cats, too, as crazy as that sounds.”
She took in a sudden breath and held it, looking as though he’d just shocked her for some reason. A few heartbeats later, she let it go and gave him a head nod.
Bunker sent a thin grin at Stephanie, then turned his attention to Jeffrey, who was still hovering at his side and looking up with his clear blue eyes. He felt like a giant next to the boy. “I wasn’t going anywhere in particular. I just bought a monthly ticket and thought I would take a journey to see where I ended up.”
“You mean like a walkabout? You know, from the movie Crocodile Dundee.”
Bunker laughed. “Sure, a walkabout. But on a train.”
“But why? I don’t understand.”
“That’s a good question, Champ. Like most everything else in life, it’s complicated. When you’re older, you’ll know what that phrase means. For now, let me say this . . . sometimes a man just needs to make changes and the best way to do that is to go somewhere he’s never been before. For me, that was a one-way ticket heading north. That’s when I met you and your mom,” he said, winking at the kid.
Jeffrey opened his mouth and looked like he was about to respond, but didn’t. Instead, his feet stopped and his face froze.
Bunker stopped walking as well, wondering what was wrong.
Stephanie must have realized that something was afoot because she swung her head around and discontinued her trek alongside her son.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she asked.
Jeffrey turned his head a few degrees to the left. “Listen. Do you hear that?”
Bunker turned his ear and held his breath for a few seconds, but he didn’t hear anything. He wasn’t surprised since his hearing wasn’t the best. Putting in all those road miles on his last job had taken a percentage of his hearing away. Mostly on his left side—15%, according to the physician’s assistant at the walk-in clinic in South LA.
Jeffrey’s face lit up with intensity. “I hear crying. From a kid, I think.”
Bunker flashed a look at Stephanie, hoping to glean a response from her. But she only shrugged.
Jeffrey spoke again. “I think it’s a girl but I’m not totally sure. But she sounds really scared. She keeps saying help me, help me over and over again.”
Bunker’s heart tightened when he heard those words. He knelt down on one knee. “Which
way? Show me.”
Jeffrey pointed at a thick bank of oak trees. They were covered with a crop of starter growth around the bases of their trunks. “Over there. We need to help her!”
Bunker stood up. “We will, but you need to stay here with your mom until I see what’s going on.”
Stephanie swooped in and wrapped her arms around her son.
Jeffrey’s eyes grew large. “Why do we have to stay here, Mom? Why can’t we go help?”
“Because it might be a trap, honey. We need to let Mr. Bunker check it out for us. Just to be safe.”
Bunker gave her a tight look with his eyes, then took off running in the direction Jeffrey had indicated. When he made it to the edge of the pavement, a loose crush of dirt found the soles of his shoes.
But that wasn’t all: the cries for help had finally landed on his ears. However, there wasn’t just one desperate plea coming from the forest. There were several. All of them kids by the sound of it.
An eight-foot-wide section of the foliage to the left of the trees looked like it had been plowed through by something heavy. Some of the stalks were broken near their midpoint and leaning forward, plus he could make out two equally spaced depressions running with the destruction path. The grooves in the dirt contained a familiar pattern: tire tracks.
There weren’t any skid marks on the pavement, so it didn’t appear the driver had a chance to apply the brakes. If Bunker was right, it meant the vehicle veered off the road and probably did so at high speed.
Given the depth and width of the tracks, he figured it was a heavy truck or possibly a cargo van. Something large enough to lay down a wide trail in the dirt.
Bunker continued his sprint until he entered thick underbrush. His feet slowed when he was forced to use his hands to separate and deflect the taller stalks of bushes so they wouldn’t keep smashing into his chest and face.
The volume and quantity of the cries increased proportionately with each step. He couldn’t tell how many kids were calling out for help, but there were many.
When the thick undergrowth finally gave way to a clearing, he stopped running and found himself standing in front of an oddly shaped boulder.
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