He’d seriously been considering using horses, as patrolling the vastness of the rugged county was tough. The only ATVs working in the area were those donated by Hank Strickland, and Dan didn’t like using them because it made him feel indebted.
“How long have they been here?”
“Um, less than twenty-four hours? They weren’t here yesterday, that’s for sure.”
He sighed. “Let’s get this scene cleaned up. Set up an east and west roadblock. No one gets in. Especially the Stricklands.”
Johnson nodded, and took charge, taking the deputies with him back up the steep rocky incline.
Dan groaned.
He brought a hand up to his face, unable to believe this was happening. He was tired. Exhausted. He’d barely had five hours’ sleep a night since this had begun. He was struggling to keep his head above water. While local police and the sheriff’s department were doing their best to maintain law and order, the situation hadn’t improved.
There were reports of numerous break-ins.
A few families were tied up while their goods were stolen.
Three had been shot dead. No leads.
They’d had two town hall meetings so far to discuss safety, but beyond putting more officers out to patrol the streets, there wasn’t a hell of a lot that could be done.
Timing was crucial. Communication, everything.
In the past, people had cell phones, cameras.
This gave them leads even if they arrived late.
Now they had nothing but visual descriptions and he had a feeling that some of the thefts were being done by outsiders. He was meant to have a meeting later that day to discuss enforcing a curfew and setting up roadblocks. He’d been putting it off, trying to avoid it simply because he knew folks around here didn’t take too kindly to being told what to do, and it would mean taking officers away from other areas.
But they were running out of options.
At the rate they were going, desperation would soon take over.
With no more supply deliveries, what perishable food was in the stores had already been consumed or gone rotten. He assumed the grocery owners throughout Alderpoint, Garberville and Eureka would come together, but instead, he found himself at odds with them. There were no rules on what governed an event like this. They couldn’t force them to hand over products, especially when there was so very little information on the event. So far the emergency broadcast was telling people to shelter in place and wait for further instructions. All well and good saying that, but they didn’t have to deal with troublemakers and argumentative locals.
It had been that way for eleven days and he didn’t expect it to change.
“Sheriff! We have a problem,” Johnson bellowed down from the ridge.
“What is it?” he yelled.
“Hank Strickland.”
“Shoot me now!” he said, running a hand over his stubbled jaw and hurrying. Could this day get any worse? He hadn’t made it halfway up the rocky slope, elbowing his way through thick trees, when he heard his angry voice.
“Those are my boys. I want to see them.”
“I’m sorry, sir, we have strict orders.”
“Fuck your orders. Get out of the way!”
A commotion arose, and as Dan bulldozed out of the tree line, he began hollering. “It’s all right, Johnson, it’s all right, let them through.” He didn’t want it to go down this way, to have him see his kin like this, but getting in his way would only end badly.
Deputies stepped off to one side and Hank and several of his family members drove their ATVs up onto the bridge over to where his men had pulled up the three badly decomposed bodies. Dan could feel his chest tighten as he made his way over. They hadn’t even had a chance to cover them.
There was silence.
Hank dropped to both knees and placed his hands slowly around Luke’s face, or what was left of it. His throat had been slit from ear to ear. Edgar and Jared had been shot. Decomposition had taken hold and the smell was horrendous. He’d seen enough dead people to know that these three had been killed a while ago.
“My boys, my boys,” Hank said over and over again in a hushed voice. Hank lifted his face to the sky and muttered something as if he was having a conversation with God or maybe Bruce? He didn’t catch it but he saw the anger in his eyes. Dan shifted awkwardly from one foot to the next, waiting for the explosion, the eruption of anger, but it never came. He wasn’t sure if that was more terrifying. Hank stood up, and looked up toward the foothills of the mountain, nodding slowly. Dan glanced at some of his kin he’d brought with him: Derek, Seth, Donnie, Cheyanne, and Helen. It was just a fraction of his family. They all looked equally somber but not shocked.
Hank took a deep breath. His gaze bounced between Dan and his sons, and then with a jerk of the thumb, he told them to load the bodies into the back of the ATV trailer. He was about to walk away when Dan stopped him.
“Hank, you can’t move them.”
“I’m burying them,” he said.
“But we need to do an autopsy, an investigation.”
“No, you don’t.”
“This is a crime scene.”
“You and I know what this is…” He glared at him. “And you aren’t going to do a damn thing about it.”
“And you are?” There was a beat. “Remember what I said, Hank.”
“I heard you. But I’m still taking my boys.” He motioned to his kin and they stepped forward without any hesitation to carry them out.
“Don’t do this, Hank.”
He wasn’t referring to removing the bodies but what would come next.
Hank’s features twisted. “This is on you. I told you to deal with them. I gave you a chance. I tried to do it the right way.
