Part 3 (1/2)
”Can't hear you in the back,” someone else added.
He tried again, this time more forcefully. ”Thank you all for coming. I know that you're all probably just as spooked as we are right now, so I appreciate the effort. For those of you who don't know me, my name is Seymour Peters, and I'm the fire chief for Walden.”
Christy squeezed my hand hard, and I turned to look at her. She trembled with suppressed laughter. Grinning, I mouthed the guy's name.
”Seymour Peters,” Russ whispered. ”See more peters. Jesus Christ! His parents must have really hated him.”
Christy snickered harder. It made me feel good to see her laughing after the morning's strangeness. Cranston was shaking with silent mirth as well. His shoulders jiggled up and down.
”As I'm sure you're all aware,” Chief Peters continued, ”we've had something of a situation this morning. Heck, I guess you can look around and see for yourself that something's happened. Unfortunately, we don't know what that something is.”
”Succinctly put,” a man standing near us grumbled. ”Tell us something we don't know.”
A rumble went through the crowd as people began to share their opinions and theories. The chief held up his hands and pleaded for silence, and they slowly fell quiet again. Before he spoke again, the Chief coughed several times-dry, rasping, and forceful. I made him for a smoker.
”What we do do know,” he continued, ”is that our community has lost all of our utilities. We've tried contacting fire stations and emergency services in nearby towns, but so far we've had no luck. Cell phones and land lines aren't functioning. There are no incoming signals of any kind, including television and radio. That applies to all cable and satellite signals as well. There's nothing on the emergency or citizen's band channels either, and the ham radio frequencies have also gone silent. My men tell me that the internet is down, too. Have any of you spoken with anyone from the outside since this morning? Friends or family? Maybe a coworker? Delivery person? Anyone like that?” know,” he continued, ”is that our community has lost all of our utilities. We've tried contacting fire stations and emergency services in nearby towns, but so far we've had no luck. Cell phones and land lines aren't functioning. There are no incoming signals of any kind, including television and radio. That applies to all cable and satellite signals as well. There's nothing on the emergency or citizen's band channels either, and the ham radio frequencies have also gone silent. My men tell me that the internet is down, too. Have any of you spoken with anyone from the outside since this morning? Friends or family? Maybe a coworker? Delivery person? Anyone like that?”
n.o.body raised a hand or volunteered that they had. The chief nodded. His expression was grim.
”Some of you probably had-I mean have have-loved ones who went to work or traveled outside the town limits. Have any of you heard from them since they departed? Have any of them come back?”
Again, n.o.body in the crowd volunteered that they had.
”The crew and I have been discussing our situation. Now understand, we live here, too, and some of us have got loved ones missing as well. So believe me when I tell you that we understand what you're going through. That being said, we think it's best if everyone stays in their home for the time being. It's dark out here, and we don't need people wandering the streets. I know it's probably tempting to search for your families, but doing so right now is only going to create more problems. We ask that you remain indoors until we are able to better determine exactly what has happened.”
”f.u.c.k that noise,” somebody yelled.
The chief broke into another coughing fit. The fireman manning the sound system handed him a bottle of water. He accepted it eagerly, unscrewed the cap, and sipped. Then he faced the crowd again.
”I know it's not an easy thing to ask, but I'm asking just the same. It's for your safety, as well as the safety of my men.”
”It's them terrorists, isn't it? It's the Al Qaeda?”
I recognized the speaker from earlier. She was the woman who had felt sorry for Dez.
”We don't know what it is,” the chief responded. ”But we intend to find out. Let's not jump to any conclusions yet. We've decided to send a crew to the next town, Verona, to see if they can determine what's happened and how large of an area this thing has affected. The plain truth is that we don't know if this is a national, regional, or localized event. Meanwhile, the main thing we all need to do is remain calm. Panic leads to injury, and with the phones out, you have no way of calling 911. I would also like to suggest that we conserve our resources until we better understand our situation. Once the men have returned, we'll inform all of you-probably by calling another meeting or going door-to-door. So until then, just stay put and again, remain calm. We're doing our best, and we thank you in advance for your cooperation and patience. We'll get through this together.”
”What a crock of s.h.i.+t,” a bald man in front of us muttered. ”Who the h.e.l.l put this guy in charge? He doesn't know any more than the rest of us.”
”Hey,” Russ said, tapping him on the shoulder. ”Why don't you cut him some slack? The man is just trying his best.”
The bald man scowled. ”I heard you snickering at his name.”
”Maybe,” Russ admitted, ”but that doesn't mean I question his authority. If he's got a plan-and it sounds to me like he does-then I say we respect it.”
”Who cares what you say? What-you know him or something?”
”No. I don't know him. I don't know you either. I'm just saying that maybe we ought to work together. That's all. If you don't like it, then maybe you should leave now, rather than bringing everybody else down.”
Cranston nodded in agreement. ”All this negativity is no good. We need to get along.”
I thought for a moment that the bald man was going to take a swing at Russ and Cranston both. Instead, he just stared at them. His expression hovered between p.i.s.sed off and incredulous. Then he turned his attention back to the chief. If he had more opinions, he didn't share them with us.
Christy s.h.i.+vered against me.
”You okay?” I asked.
She nodded. ”I'm just cold. I hope this doesn't last much longer. It's creepy, standing out here in the dark.”
”It's not completely dark,” I said. ”Not like over there.”
I pointed toward the shadowed horizon and immediately regretted it. Acknowledging it seemed to make it more real somehow-seemed to solidify it. At the time, I thought that was just in my head. Thought that I was being superst.i.tious. But now I have to wonder.
Had the darkness heard me, even then? The more I think about it, the more I'm inclined to believe it might have.
Recovering from another bout of coughing, the chief then went over some safety concerns, advising people with generators to make sure they were well vented and talking about fireplaces and the hazards a.s.sociated with kerosene heaters and candles. I kind of zoned out during that part of the speech.
When he'd finished with his safety checklist, the chief asked, ”Are there any questions?”
There were. Lots of them. People had him repeat things he'd already said and wanted him to speculate on what he thought had occurred and wanted to b.i.t.c.h about the situation in general. A few seemed to consider this meeting a chance to share their personal stories, telling the chief and the crowd about their husband or wife who'd left for work or about what they were doing when the darkness came. The chief did a good job of hiding it, but I could see that he was getting annoyed. In truth, I was too. Then Russ broke the tension. He raised his hand, and the chief wearily motioned to him.
”Yes, sir? You have a question?”
”Yeah,” Russ called. ”Where's these refreshments you said you were gonna have?”
That earned a boisterous round of laughter from both the firemen and the crowd. A few people even applauded.
”Glad you asked,” the chief said. ”We've got a buffet set up inside the firehouse. It's not much, I'm afraid. Hot coffee, tea, bottled water, fruit, and some boxes of doughnuts. But with the power out, I imagine most of you could use a good cup of java. Brewed it myself. It's dark and bitter, but it will definitely keep you awake. Help yourselves. We only ask that you keep things orderly. You are welcome to stay here for a while, if you like, though I imagine it will get pretty crowded. As I said before, the best thing you can do is return to your homes and remain calm. We're all in this together, and we'll get through it together.”
The chief turned off the public address system and clambered down from the fire truck. People gathered around him with more questions or just wanting to shake his hand. A few people headed home. Much of the crowd proceeded into the firehouse, but it was slow going and the line jammed up at the doors and spread out into the parking lot. Cranston took a spot in the procession.
”I'll catch up with you guys later,” he said. ”I could use some coffee and I never turn down free doughnuts.”
Russ glanced at Christy and me. ”You guys feel like standing in that line?”
”I've got a better idea,” I said.
”What?”
”Let's head to the edge of town. I'd like to see for myself what's going on.”
Christy paled but said nothing. Russ shook his head.
”I don't know, Robbie. You heard what the chief said, same as the rest of us. Are you sure that's a good idea?”
”No,” I replied. ”I'm not sure. I'm not sure of anything at this point. But with everything that's going on, I'd much rather see what we're up against than stand around drinking coffee and making small talk with a bunch of neighbors I don't know.”