Free Darkly The Thunder by William W. Johnstone Page A

town simultaneously And there wasn’t enough left of whoever got in its way to body-bag.
    Dr. Craig Anderson shoved his way through the crowds – and they were curiously silent and well-behaved – and walked up to Gordie.
    â€œNothing,” the doctor said. “There isn’t enough left of the bodies to make a positive I.D. on any of them. Oh, before I forget.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “The hands and eyes and lips have now returned to the coolers.”
    The doctor’s eyes held a dozen questions. But he kept them to himself. Gordie knew he was waiting until they could speak privately.
    â€œHow many dead, Doctor?” Watts asked.
    â€œHard to tell, Colonel. Mr. and Mrs. Adamson, for sure. They were in the store, as usual. Maybe a couple of customers. Two men for sure at the grain elevator. Dr. Shriver is working over there. The truck driver and his helper are scattered all over the place. One man for sure at the service station. But taking into account the savagery of the initial implosion, there will probably be more.”
    â€œImplosions, Craig?” Watts asked.
    â€œYes. Everything initially blew inward. Witnesses say the truck, the entire rig, was just sucked inward, and then scattered like a tornado hit it. The truck driver and helper were literally crushed like tomatoes, and then flung out with the bits and pieces of the rig.”
    â€œAn implosion and explosion?” Gordie asked.
    â€œI would say so, yes.”
    A man grabbed Gordie’s arm and jerked him around. “We elected you sheriff, Gordie. You gotta do something.” The man’s eyes were wild. “What are you goin’ to do?”
    Gordie evaded that. “Go home, sir. Stay in your home.” Gordie pried the man’s fingers from his arm. “I’ve ordered school dismissed for the remainder of the week. Keep your kids inside as much as possible. Don’t let them out of your sight.”
    A deputy walked up to Gordie and whispered, “The principal over at the high school said – when we informed him that it would be best if school was dismissed – and I quote, ‘It don’t make me a good goddamn if I ever see any of these little shitters again. Fuck ’em all.’ ”
    Gordie stared at him. “Principal McVay said that?”
    â€œWord for word.”
    â€œIt’s a madman loose, isn’t it, Sheriff?” a woman hollered.
    â€œQuite possible, ma’am. Now let’s break this crowd up, and you all go home, please.”
    They all noticed that the majority of the crowd all turned as of one mind and walked off. Only a few chose to linger and rubberneck at the carnage. The deputies shooed them away from the scene of destruction.
    â€œStrange behavior,” Dr. Anderson observed. “Very strange. Only a few showed any emotion at all. Only a few cases of excitement. No hysteria at all.” He looked squarely at Gordie. “When do we talk, Sheriff?”
    â€œRight now. At my office.”
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    Anderson’s coffee remained untouched on the table. He had listened carefully, his facial expression clearly mirroring his disbelief, as the men and women told their stories.
    Then Gordie took him into the cell block that housed the drunk tanks. Lee lifted the blood-soaked blanket that covered the crushed and mangled body of Hubbard. Craig had already noticed the blood- and brain-splattered walls.
    The doctor opened his mouth several times to speak. Each time he closed it silently. Finally he sighed and shook his head.
    Gordie waved them out of the cell block and back into the main room.
    â€œAll right,” the doctor said, facing the group of men and women. “For the sake of argument, I’ll accept everything you have told me as truth. Now then, what is this thing?”
    â€œWe don’t know,” Gordie said.
    â€œWhat does it want?”
    â€œWe don’t know that either. And yes, we have