“If I hear that word change one more time, I’m going to…” Colby trailed off, looking out the window as they drove past several officers trying to break up a fight between two people.
Just because they all lived together and were involved in the rebuilding, it didn’t mean people had abandoned their old ways of arguing. Domestics had gone up since the event. Husbands and wives were constantly in each other’s faces. He had to wonder if outsiders didn’t destroy them, maybe the residents would.
Locals were drinking more. That was one thing about the event that had changed. Beer, moonshine, spirits were being consumed faster than they could make it. While the liquor stores were empty, it hadn’t stopped folks from making their own concoctions. More drinking meant more people filled up with liquid courage. It certainly made the weekly meetings fun. It was even more fun when they came together once a month to discuss the needs of the city as a whole.
Johnson had stopped letting in anyone who smelled of alcohol.
It didn’t take much to get folks riled up. Many stopped attending. Many left for FEMA camps, thinking it would be better. From what they’d learned through the grapevine, it wasn’t. Tight restrictions, laws, FEMA had their own rules. Here they were fairly relaxed within reason.
That was the one big problem with Johnson’s ideas for rebuilding.
He was banking on people agreeing with him, toeing the line, helping out and following. People were creatures of habit. Once they became comfortable and less reliant upon one another, the less they felt inclined to help. Besides, for all the good people in the community there would always be a few bad apples, ones who didn’t like the situation or their lot in life. They didn’t think about how they could improve the situation through their own means, instead, they looked for ways to blame others and bring down the system.
Of course there was the other challenge.
What would happen if they brought in too many?
Would people begin to fight over who was in leadership? It happened all the time before the event. Religion against religion, country against country, politician against politician. People loved to pick sides, build someone up and tear another down. It was humanity’s flaw.
And it was one of the reasons why Colby had considered leaving.
He hadn’t shared it with anyone except Alicia but it was eating away at the back of his mind especially after paying his respects to Skye and his father. There really was no reason to stay. What they had here in Eureka was working but for how much longer?
Chapter Four
Sheriff Steve Johnson stared at the twisted bodies of his correctional officers. Parish, Hernández and Rodrigo had been stripped of their uniforms and positioned in a way as to humiliate them and send a message to whoever found them. They stank to high heaven indicating someone had gone one step further and pissed on them. Johnson rose from a crouched position and shook his head before stepping into the empty bus.
He didn’t ask how it was possible, he knew from the flattened tires.
Sending them south was a high risk but he had been following protocol, following up on paperwork that Dan was meant to have dealt with but hadn’t. Now that day-to-day tasks were being handled, the council felt it was important to address the jail situation.
The transfer was meant to have occurred months before the power grid went down. It was the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation’s answer to the pandemic. A feeble and controversial step that would see thousands of inmates released back onto the streets and others transferred to larger state prisons to handle overcrowding. For Eureka, it was a matter of protecting their resources. For him, it was just one more thing on his to-do list to check off. He needed more officers on the streets, not looking after scum, the throwaways of society.
He let out a heavy sigh.
A resident of Benbow had stumbled across the scene and reported it.
He figured by now the inmates were miles away. At one time they would have called State Police, gotten eyes in the sky, alerted media and spent hours, days, even weeks tracking them down, but not now. He only hoped they weren’t at large in the county. Those thirty were some of the most dangerous men in Humboldt. They were ruthless. Unforgiving.
He didn’t need the additional headache of tracking them down.
“You want us to put out a search crew, sheriff?” Deputy Graham asked. He was a young officer, only two years with the department, a little wet behind the ears. This whole event had been like a baptism by fire.
“No. We’ll alert those in the county to be on the lookout but there’s not much else we can do,” he said as he climbed down out of the bus. Outside, four more deputies stood by a truck, chewing the fat.
Graham looked disturbed. “You think the Stricklands did this? Alby was on that bus. You heard what Hank said about him.”
“That’s not what concerns me.”
“What is it, sheriff?”
Johnson stared at the bodies, lost in thought. “Well, there were only a few people who knew about the transfer. Myself, the council, and the correctional officers.”
“You think someone helped them escape?”
“After the arrest of that correctional officer, anything is possible.”
That had been a disgrace. It had tarnished the good name of Humboldt County. They prided themselves on having honest officers. They were held to a higher standard. Expected to uphold the law and abide by it. When it came out that one of their own had been smuggling drugs into the correctional facility, the media had a field day with it. How could it happen? More specifically, how had the sheriff let it happen? He’d always wondered if someone else was involved.
The correctional officer that was arrested swore that he worked alone. Johnson didn’t
