Free Darkly The Thunder by William W. Johnstone

RIGHT.
    Gordie walked into the big room that housed the waiting area, up to the circular desk that housed dispatch. He looked at Mack. The old deputy was scared, but holding on.
    â€œMack, go to our tach frequency and advise all units to start setting evacuation routes and procedures. Alert civil defense. Notify the school and the fire department. Get the principal up here to the office right now.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    Dark, evil chuckling filled the big room. DO YOU LIKE SURPRISES, BURRO-BRAIN?
    Gordie looked around him and waited.
    LET’S BOOGIE, BABIES!
    A series of explosions rocked the town, followed by booming laughter. All the phone lines lit up. When the callers were calmed – as best the deputies could – units were dispatched to the various scenes of destruction. Gordie rubbed his face with his hands when all units reported back by radio.
    â€œA grain elevator blew up just south of town. An eighteen-wheeler loaded with food was blown off the state road north of town. Here in town, to the east, Adamson’s little store no longer exists. West of here, William’s service station exploded. Deputies and firemen are looking through the debris now, for survivors. And bodies,” he added.
    AS THE DAYS GROW LONGER,
    THE STORMS GROW STRONGER.
    The wild laughter that followed the children’s rhyme gradually faded.
    â€œShowing us that it can do just about anything it wants to do,” Watts said.
    â€œAnd warning us, I suppose,” Jackson added, “not to try any evacuation.”
    Gordie picked up his cowboy hat. “Let’s go see the damage. Then we’ve got to have some sort of town meeting. Lee, see if you can get in touch with the mayor.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œWhat in God’s name are you going to tell them without putting everybody into a blind panic?” Captain Hishon asked.
    â€œI don’t know,” Gordie admitted.
    â€œAnd after you do tell them?” Watts asked.
    â€œI don’t know that either. Hell, I don’t even know what it is we’re fighting.”
    He turned and walked out the door.
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    â€œI’ve done some brushing up on hot rod jargon of the 1950s,” Sunny said, attempting to put a calmness in her voice that she certainly did not feel. She was shaky from her experience in the bathroom, but was trying very hard to convince herself that Richard, for whatever reason, was playing tricks, mind games, trying to scare her away. “Were you people outlaws?”
    â€œAbsolutely not,” Richard stated. “There was not a criminal in the bunch. We never had any serious trouble with the law until about a year before the bottom dropped out. But when it did drop, all hell broke loose.”
    He laughed at that, and Linda smiled. Sunny did not see one bit of humor in it. But she was getting some clues, and prayed that she was wrong.
    â€œSand is the best friend I ever had in either world. I love him like a brother, and always will.”
    I’m not believing this! Sunny’s mind was working furiously. It’s a trick.
    â€œPerhaps telling is too slow,” Richard said. “Maybe you should see for yourself.”
    â€œWhat kind of game are you playing, Mr. Jennings?”
    â€œNo game. Relax.”
    Sunny experienced a heavy sensation; she thought it must be like jet fighter pilots feel. Several G’s. The smell, that sickly-sweet funeral-home odor became stronger. She tried to fight the feeling of motion, or travel. In her mind, she hoped, the room began to tilt. She suddenly felt as if her inner clock had stopped, and then been reversed.
    â€œDo not be afraid,” a voice entered her head. The voice was not Richard’s. “No harm will come to you. I am the Force.”
    Thunder cracked.
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    It didn’t take long for Gordie and his people to get the picture. Whatever they were facing had enormous power. Power enough to strike at all corners of the