Eight
Troll Valley road ran thirty miles between two major
interstates and sported three small towns along its path, Orange City, Rex
Hogan’s current destination, to the north, Cyprus Ridge to the south, and
Brighton Hollow tucked between them. The only economy the three
communities boasted consisted of farming sufficient to keep its sparse
population alive and the minimal tourist trade of travelers avoiding the
beaten paths for quaint towns and scenic routes. Brighton County was
nothing but quaint and rustic. The east to west interstates on either
side of the county had isolated the rural community as effectively as
stone walls.
On an entirely personal level, Rex had no objections
to his isolation, no more than he objected to the radio being out. He
drove along the highway meandering its way through dense forest with one
arm hanging out the window and the tape deck beating out one of his
favorite New Age pieces. He had no particular desire to reach his
destination any time soon. A full moon shown through the tree canopies
hanging over the road, casting a pale glow on the blacktop beyond the
reach of his headlights.
Regardless of the peaceful interlude, he goosed the
accelerator when he noticed his speed dropping below fifty. Orange City
and Cyprus Junction lay fifteen miles in opposite directions from Brighton
Hollow. It would take roughly an hour to reach Orange City, backtrack
along the county roads to Cyprus Junction, then return to Brighton Hollow,
and only God knew how long to hunt down and deal with his fellow deputies,
Dick Jenkins, a competent, but difficult self-styled white supremacist in
Orange City, and Orville Jackson in Cyprus Junction, the resentful, but
capable black Leon had hired to neutralize the political damage Jenkins
had inflicted on the department. If the static died down enough to allow
a call to the state capitol, Doc Kaufman would have official visitors
pulling into Brighton Hollow before dawn to investigate the organic
content of Connie's meteorite, and he wanted to be on hand when that
happened.
It was then that green fire flared in the sky
overhead.
"Holy shit!"
Rex slammed on the brakes and slid to a stop. He
stuck his head out the window in time to watch the green bolide streak by.
His guts turned to ice. More green light flickered
through the trees, pale at first, but from far overhead, thunder growled
and then boomed.
Rex reached down to shut off the headlights, then
climbed from the car to survey the ominous night sky. Dozens, and then
hundreds of meteors glaring green and white streaked on steep, parallel
trajectories to the earth.
A vehicle rounded a curve
behind him, it's bright
lights blinding Rex and sending him leaping into the ditch to avoid being
struck. Distracted by the maelstrom overhead, the driver struck his
patrol car a glancing blow. The station wagon bounced off and nosed into
the ditch on the opposite side of the road, tires locked and screaming. A
woman behind the wheel and a child of about ten clutched one another and
shrieked with resonant terror.
Rex ran to the car thinking one of the two had
incurred injury. Seeing the ominous silhouette of a man outlined in
glimmering green light only intensified their terror. Even so, they all
looked quickly back to the intensifying spectacle in the night sky. Rex
could hear the meteors striking ground nearby, at least a few of them. A
small patch of horizon visible to the east absolutely glared in brilliant
emerald light, evidence that the phenomenon extended to the horizon, if
not well beyond.
When the driver of the station wagon realized the
significance of the uniform and the patrol car, she climbed from her car
and stood at his side with the child wrapped tight in her arms. Overhead,
the meteor shower began to abate.
The woman stuttered badly for a moment, then cried,
"What's happening!" She cringed as a fireball passed overhead in a
crackling roar, then glanced at Rex's gouged and dented car to assess the
extent of her second of two crises.
Rex had a hard time taking his eyes off the night
sky. "Ma'am, don't worry about the cars."
"But what happened!" The green meteors still
streaked overhead, but fewer than at the height of the incredible shower.
"I'm sorry!" she cried. "Please, I've got to get home! My children
will be so frightened!"
"Give me a moment." Rex returned to the car. He
pulled to the side of the road to avoid another accident should further
traffic come tearing through. Leaving the engine idling, he wrote out a
note on the back of a blank traffic violation form.
Deputy Richard Jenkins,
Keep cool. We’ll get to you with an update as
soon as we can.
Rex
He then returned to the station
wagon and handed the note to the woman. "Run this to the clerk at the Country Mart, the
all-night gas station at the highway and Main Street intersection."
She quickly scanned and pocketed the note. "Dick
Jenkins. He's an awful man."
"See if your car will start."
The station wagon popped to life. She backed onto
the highway and continued on her way, fishtailing the vehicle down the
highway toward Orange City.
Rex paused to scan the dark face of the trees and
sniffed the night air for evidence of fire. It was too wet to worry about
a fire, he decided. He hurried to the car fearing the dark for the first
time since childhood. The wheel scrapped against the bent fender on the
way back to town. He drove at fifty regardless, wishing now he could do
seventy.
The streets of Brighton Hollow were deserted except
for a few groups of the most courageous pointing to the occasional meteor
still streaking through the night sky. The rest of the town had
apparently taken refuge in their basements. Given a convenient basement
at the height of the storm, he would have been more than happy to join
them. Now, he was on auto pilot, trying to carry on a semblance of
routine. At least those sensible enough to be cowering in their basements
would make his job easier.
The interference on the radio intensified. So badly
isolated, he drove to Leon's residence feeling like a child headed for the
central authority in his life for instructions on how to react to the
crisis, and what to do about it. He had been trained to deal with every
natural disaster imaginable. Against the unknown, he was defenseless.
Leon's car sat in the drive, the big house lit from
top to bottom. Nobody answered the doorbell. He let himself in and found
Vivian Kingsley sitting on the living room couch looking pale and dazed.
A twenty-two caliber revolver dangled from her right hand.
"Vivian?"
She looked up, startled. She came to life in an
instant, leaping to her feet and pointing somewhere toward the back of the
house. "They're in the woods! He's chasing her! Rex, she got my gun and
she shot at him! She almost killed him!"
He could smell the odor of cordite on the hand gun.
Despair stabbed at him. Leon had finally pushed Caitlin too far. He had
known it would happen sooner or later.
He fought to put his priorities in order. "Were
either of them hurt?"
"No, but he'll kill her if he catches her!"
Rex thought it a possibility the meteor shower had
put that life and death conflict on hold for the night. He turned back to
the front door, sorting through his options. They amounted to zilch. He
could do nothing until Leon showed up and issued whatever orders came to
mind. Without their radios, they were both as potent as stud bulls
without testicles. "I'll stay in touch with Doc Kaufman," he called over
his shoulder. "If you need to get word to me, leave it with Doc."
"I don't have the keys to the car,” she called after
him. “Leon took the spares."
Rex had a spare. He took it off his key ring and
tossed it to her.
"Rex, I shouldn't! I'm so afraid!"
"If you have to use the car, use it."
"What are you going to do?" she asked softly, as if
asking for secret information.
Caught between Caitlin's desperation and Leon's
dangerous anger, he had done nothing in the past. He'd have to do
something now. Aside from his personal involvement, it was his job.
"I'll think of something," he said. "It's gone too far his time."
She doubted him. He could see it in her eyes. There
had been other times he should have intervened and hadn't. He turned away
aching with guilt. He drove to Doc's house, tapped at the front door, and
let himself in.
The living room was dark. He checked on Connie and
found her sleeping soundly. Doc sat at the desk in his small den,
clutching an empty glass with an unopened bottle parked nearby. The old
man had been an alcoholic at one time. By his own decree, alcohol was
forbidden to him.
"Doc?"
Doc looked up and focused on him. "My son. I think
I'm having a bad dream. I don't seem to be able to wake up."
Rex took the glass from his hand and set it aside.
"That won't help."
"I had that figured out years ago, young man.”
"Did you see the fireworks?"
Doc expression was haunted. "How could I not have
seen? Only the blind and the deaf missed it."
"There's going to be hell to pay."
Doc chuckled grimly. "I quite imagine that half my
patients have died of heart failure. I'm only being mildly sarcastic, you
understand."
Rex understood perfectly well. The communications
black-out was going to make it all the worse to cope.
"I have no way to help," Doc said. "I'm getting too
damned old to be of use to anyone."
Rex shook his head. "I'm half your age and just as
damned helpless. I'm thinking it's a damn good thing I didn't take that
job in Pittsburgh after all."
"My God." Doc's eyes widened in horror. "Imagine
what it must be like in the cities."
"I got my hands full trying to figure out what to do
with Brighton Hollow. Leon and Caitlin picked a fine time to go at each
other's throats. Vivian tells me that Caitlin tried to shoot him. He's
chasing her out in the hills in the middle of the night, Doc."
Doc eyed his glass of whiskey.
"I suppose it’s gotta be a temptation,” Rex
confessed.
"Except I’m curious. I want to see what comes of all
this. It's the end of the world, you know."
Rex went rigid with tension. He needed Doc's level
head. "It isn't that bad. I haven't seen a bit of damage..."
Doc reprimanded him with a cold look.
Rex knew what he was thinking. "That thing in the
shell? You'd have to be crazy to assume there's going to be one in every
goddamn one of those meteors."
"The one was an impossibility," Doc said softly.
"The one was not a natural occurrence. Neither are the multitudes."
Panic tore at Rex. Doc had been the only father he
had ever known. He had become dependent upon his professionalism and
coldly calculated perspective of life. At times, he didn't think himself
capable of an accurate, independent assessment of his own. Dare he write
off Doc's gloom as the ramblings of an old and frightened man? "You don't
know that for sure," he said cautiously.
Doc gave him a wane smile. "Of course not."
"Then what the hell are we going to do?"
"We?" This time, Doc's chuckle contained a note of
genuine amusement. "I'm going to sit here for the rest of the night and
wait to see what happens. You, however, are going back out and do what you
can to help and keep an eye on things for me. Observe, and by daybreak,
maybe we'll have some inkling of what needs to be done."
Rex pursed his lips, reluctant to bring up the more
familiar crisis. "I can't handle Leon by myself."
"Deal with Leon later," Doc said.
"What if he hurts Caitlin?"
"What is your priority?"
The meteor shower and whatever impact it was going to
have on the county was his priority. If Leon had hurt Caitlin, he would
have to wait until communications were restored and then call state
authorities to report the crime.
He gave Doc an appreciative nod for advice that had
proven level-headed after all and turned away.
"If you find one of those meteors, keep your
distance."
Rex paused in the doorway to hear him out.
"The meteors that impact with the soil will be
intact," Doc said. "If there's something alive in them, I’m thinking they
will survive unharmed.”
Rex rushed from the house telling himself that Doc's
paranoia was reaching too far. It wasn't anything he could afford to
waste his time thinking about, not now, hopefully not ever.
