Free Under the Dome: A Novel by Stephen King Page B

authority. He spared a glare for Farmer Dinsmore on his way by.
    “Chief,” he said, butting in between Morrison and Randolph.
    “Big Jim,” Perkins said, nodding. “You didn’t waste any time, I see.”
    This was perhaps a gibe, but Rennie, a sly old fish, did not rise to the bait. “I’m afraid there’s more going on here than meets the eye. I think someone had better get in touch with Homeland Security.” He paused, looking suitably grave. “I don’t want to say there’s terrorism involved … but I won’t say there isn’t.”
    3

    Duke Perkins looked past Big Jim. Jackie was being helped to her feet by Ernie Calvert and Johnny Carver, who ran Mill Gas & Grocery. She was dazed and her nose was bleeding, but she appeared all right otherwise. Nevertheless, this whole situation was hinky. Of course, any accident where there were fatalities felt that way to some extent, but there was more wrong here.
    For one thing, the plane hadn’t been trying to land. There were too many pieces, and they were too widely scattered, for him to believe that. And the spectators. They weren’t right, either. Randolph hadn’t noticed, but Duke Perkins did. They should have formed into one big spreading clump. It was what they always did, as if for comfort in the face of death. Only these had formed
two
clumps, and the one on the Motton side of the town line marker was awfully close to the still-burning truck. Not in any danger, he judged … but why didn’t they move over here?
    The first firetrucks swept around the curve to the south. Three of them. Duke was glad to see that the second one in line had CHESTER’S MILL FIRE DEPARTMENT PUMPER NO. 2 printed in gold on the side. The crowd shuffled back farther into the scrubby bushes, giving them room. Duke returned his attention to Rennie. “What happened here? Do you know?”
    Rennie opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, Ernie Calvert spoke up. “There’s a barrier across the road. You can’t see it, but it’s there, Chief. The truck hit it. The plane, too.”
    “Damn right!” Dinsmore exclaimed.
    “Officer Wettington hit it, too,” Johnny Carver said. “Lucky for her she was goin slower.” He had placed an arm around Jackie, who looked dazed. Duke observed her blood on the sleeve of Carver’s I GOT GASSED AT MILL DISCOUNT jacket.
    On the Motton side, another FD truck had arrived. The first two had blocked the road in a V . Firemen were already spilling out andunrolling hoses. Duke could hear the warble of an ambulance from the direction of Castle Rock.
Where’s ours?
he wondered. Had it also gone to that stupid damn training exercise? He didn’t like to think so. Who in their right mind would order an ambulance to an empty burning house?
    “There seems to be an invisible barrier—” Rennie began.
    “Yeah, I got that,” Duke said. “I don’t know what it means, but I got it.” He left Rennie and went to his bleeding officer, not seeing the dark red color that suffused the Second Selectman’s cheeks at this snub.
    “Jackie?” Duke asked, taking her gently by the shoulder. “All right?”
    “Yeah.” She touched her nose, where the blood-flow was slowing. “Does it look broken? It doesn’t
feel
broken.”
    “It’s not broken, but it’s going to swell. Think you’ll look all right by the time the Harvest Ball comes around, though.”
    She offered a weak smile.
    “Chief,” Rennie said, “I really think we ought to call someone on this. If not Homeland Security—on more mature reflection that seems a little radical—then perhaps the State Police—”
    Duke moved him aside. It was gentle but unequivocal. Almost a push. Rennie balled his hands into fists, then unrolled them again. He had built a life in which he was a pusher rather than a pushee, but that didn’t alter the fact that fists were for idiots. Witness his own son. All the same, slights needed to be noted and addressed. Usually at some later date … but sometimes later was