Free Creatures of the Storm by Brad Munson Page A

Sheriff. Only one set, and I have ‘em.”
    “And you’ve had them …?”
    “All day. Since Monday, in fact. Maybe
there’s another red ATV in town after all. Tourists or visitors.
Somebody who came over the ridge to raise hell.”
    He stared at her. And stared. And stared.
Then he shook his head and turned away. “Frankly,” he said,
sounding truly disgusted, “I don’t have time to deal with this
right now. I’ll be back when the storm breaks. You all stay in town
‘till then, won’t you?” He stopped and looked over his shoulder,
straight at Michael Steinberg. “Won’t you?”
    Steinberg smirked one more time and added a
shrug. “Where would I go?” he said. “After all, I work here, don’t
I?” he gave a sidelong glance at Lucy. She felt her stomach flop
like a dying fish.
    The Sheriff was already halfway to the door
before Lucy realized he was leaving. She quick-stepped to follow
him, moving as fast she could without actually breaking into a run.
Damned if she was going to run after him like some eager
schoolgirl.
    She caught up with the sheriff inside the
entrance. The sky outside had darkened even more as the hidden sun
began to set. The rain was thick and dull as molten pewter, coming
down harder than ever. Everything, including the palms and the
succulents, even the carefully cultivated California poppies,
looked ancient and lifeless in the dying light.
    “Sheriff Peck?”
    He turned on her with an expression that
clearly said he had already taken about as much as he could stand.
“What?”
    “You have a town meeting tonight,
correct?”
    He did everything but tap his foot with
impatience. “Yes. So?”
    “I want you to urge everybody who shows up to
leave town for a while. Immediately. At least until the storm
breaks.”
    That stopped him. He shook his head as if to
clear his ears. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
    “I know tonight’s meeting is about the little
girls who are missing, but look, we have data here that indicates
it’s going to continue to rain like this for at least the next two
days, maybe longer.”
    He set his jaw. “Not a chance.”
    “No, it’s not a chance, Sheriff, it’s a fact.
There’s no way this town’s drainage or emergency personnel can
handle what’s going to happen. What’s already happening. You know
that.”
    “When exactly did you become an expert on
what my people can and can’t handle?”
    “Your people, Sheriff?”
    “The people of this town are my people,
yes.”
    They stared at each other for a long moment,
sizing each other up, but Lucy wouldn’t let it go. “You don’t have
to call it an evacuation if you don’t want to. Just tell people it
might be safer if they–”
    “Oh, for …” He rubbed his eyes for a moment,
clearly trying to control himself. “It’s only been raining for
three hours, Dr. Armbruster. And you’re telling me I’m supposed to
tell the whole town to up and go? And based on what, again? On the
word of a scientist that nobody’s ever heard of, who I met this
afternoon? I don’t think so.”
    “It’s not about me, Sheriff. It’s about the
facts. I can show you.”
    “I have to go,” he said, and fit his
flat-brimmed hat back on his crew cut. “Let’s talk tomorrow, if
there’s a reason to.” He pulled open the glass door and almost
threw himself out.
    “Sheriff, come on!”
    “Tomorrow!” he bellowed over his shoulder,
and disappeared into the billowing darkness. Ten steps from the
building, he faded into the mist like a bad dream.
    Lucy stood in front of the glass doors for a
long time, staring into the slate gray storm as the last of the
daylight dissolved. Finally she turned around and faced the
desk.
    They were waiting for her. Looking at her.
She didn’t have a single clue what to say.
    She spread her hands. “Go home if you want.
Stay if you want. It’s safer here on high ground no matter what
happens. There are cots and bedding in storage, but…you know that.
Of course you know