As the zip ties went over his wrists, a familiar face appeared in the crowd, it was the movement he spotted, fast, heading forward. Alicia. But she wasn’t alone. Spreading like wildfire among the locals, it wasn’t the Stricklands, nor was it his family, it was hundreds of armed Native Americans.
He wasn’t the only one who witnessed it. As the soldier finished placing the zip ties on his wrists, he lifted his eyes and saw the threat.
Captain Evans was oblivious. He was so focused on the four of them and bellowing over that megaphone that he couldn’t hear or see what was happening — better put, what had happened.
He’d made a grave error of judgment.
In his rush to make a grand spectacle and pander to the masses, he had created an environment that was too large for fifty men to control. Inviting too many out to witness their deaths had created a problem for him and an opportunity for others. Native Americans were able to move seemingly unnoticed, able to take out his twenty men without raising an alarm.
A smile formed on Colby’s face and the captain caught it.
“What are you smiling at?” He turned to his guys who were readying their rifles. “Wipe that smile off his face now. Prepare to fire!”
Evans’ eyes were locked on Colby, waiting, just waiting to see him drop.
He didn’t but Evans’ men did. When none of them fired, Evans turned to bark at his men only to find them on the ground, dead, stabbed in the back of the skull. A slew of Native Americans came out, rifles aimed, among them Dakota.
The expression on Evans was priceless.
“But. How? No. This… can’t be. I…”
He turned, backed up, only to bump into another member of a tribe.
Everywhere they turned was another one. They were surrounded.
There was nowhere to go. Evans’s hand reached for his gun but he stopped short when he felt a blade pressed to the side of his throat.
Alicia hurried up onto the platform and began slicing the restraints off each of them.
Kane bounded around his legs as he made his way down.
Colby tossed the restraints on the ground.
“What took you so long?” Colby asked in jest as he rubbed his wrists, his eyes fixed on Evans.
“Ah you know, the roads are clogged with traffic,” Dakota said, in his usual sarcastic way. He watched Paco step down and embrace a few of his people.
“The tribe has grown.”
“Oh, this isn’t all of us.”
“So Elsu managed to convince the elders?”
“No.” He nudged his chin toward Alicia. “She did.”
Alicia was still on the platform, slicing the zip ties off Dan.
Colby nodded, his eyes drifting to the fallen soldiers. Some might have said the tribes had shown violence, drifted from their peaceful ways, but that wasn’t it at all. They hadn’t fired one shot. They could have but innocent people would have been caught up in the middle of it. This was as much a message to the people as it was to the militia.
“And the other soldiers?”
“Gone.”
“The Stricklands?”
“We didn’t see them.”
Colby snorted. Just as expected.
Some feuds would always remain. Not everyone would change.
He nudged his chin toward the captain and lieutenant.
“And what about them?”
“They’ll go with us. To make atonement for the one they killed.”
Dakota and Colby approached the captain who looked beside himself with fear. Gone was the hard exterior that came with being surrounded by yes-men. Colby could only imagine what was going through his mind. “Colby. Come on now. We were just doing what you or anyone would have. We’ll leave. We won’t come back.”
Colby got close to his face. “No, you won’t.”
He didn’t need to spell it out for them. Both of them knew what that meant but before they were dragged away by the tribes to suffer a death worse than he could imagine, Colby placed a hand on Dakota. “Wait a moment. He has one thing left to do.” Colby picked up the megaphone. “Like I told you. The people deserve to know the truth. Tell them the truth and I will tell the tribes to go easy on you.”
His eyes bulged with fear.
Evans swallowed hard.
Colby brought the megaphone up to his lips.
He cleared his throat and uttered his final words to the crowd.
Epilogue
Eureka
Two Weeks Later
Newly elected Sheriff Steve Johnson opened the door on the two-story house with all the enthusiasm of a real estate agent. Kane was the first in, bounding down the hallway into the kitchen where he began sniffing the tile flooring. The abode was modern, upscale, one of the nicest homes to be found in the neighborhood of Green Park.
“Four bedrooms, a sunroom at the rear, solar panels on the roof for off-the-grid living, and all within a hop, skip, and jump of the department.”
He marched into the living room and pulled wide the drapes to let the bright morning sunshine in. He opened two windows. A light breeze blew in. Johnson beamed with delight and had every reason to — after the events that unfolded at Fort Humboldt, Dan Wilder stepped down from his position as sheriff. He felt that his ties with the Stricklands and his lack of transparency had damaged whatever trust he had with the community. He’d offered to continue to help as and where he could, but only as a volunteer. This of course had opened up a position that needed to be filled and one that Johnson was more than capable of tackling.
“So what do you think? If you want it, it’s yours,” Johnson said.
Upon learning about Colby’s background in law enforcement and hearing what he’d done to try and stop the militia, he felt he would make a good addition to the department and had offered him a position. Colby had turned it down, wishing to remain neutral, but that didn’t stop Johnson from trying to persuade him.
“I’ll think about it.”
“So does that mean yes?”
Colby smiled. “I’ll think about it.”
Johnson nodded. “All right. Well, if you decide to take it, here’s
