Roman Cesaro - Fallen Into Darkness

Kyle had caught two small catfish overnight. They were prepared with dandelions and lambsquarters that Robert had scavenged from the surrounding area. As Robert was searching for something green to eat, he found bird eggs from nests in the grass. He put the eggs on hot embers from the campfire to cook them.

Robert found the general’s letter, still concealed within a large envelope inside a plastic bag, and turned to face his companions. He pointed downstream with the letter and asked, “Ready for Fort Benton?”

“I looked at the map,” Richard stated. “I think we should get there by late afternoon.”

“Let’s do it.”

The sky remained gray with low clouds. The clouds harassed the men with occasional raindrops, just enough to keep them in their rain gear as they floated downstream. Late in the afternoon, they came upon a town on the north side of the river. Estimating that this should be Fort Benton, they decided to look for a place to hide the rafts so they could go ashore. They stopped just downstream of the town and hid the two rafts in a patch of shrubbery close to the riverbank.

“The weather is still miserable,” said Robert. “I think we should see if they offer us a place to stay for the night before we try to set up camp.” He tucked the letter under his poncho.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” said Richard.

“We’ve had some bad luck, Robert,” Kyle added. “I’d feel better if you had that pistol back.”

Robert was quiet as he looked toward the buildings of Fort Benton. He knew that he had made a big mistake by losing the pistol and his raft to Sergeant Haber. A pistol would be good insurance for walking into the unknown and he knew that what they were about to do was definitely the unknown.

“You’re right, I screwed up,” admitted Robert. “I’ll drop the letter off and get out quick. You don’t need to go with me. I understand.”

“I’ll go, but I don’t want to stick around,” said Kyle.

“I’ll go, too,” said Richard, looking hesitantly at the rafts.

They walked toward the town. As they struggled up the slope and away from the water, they looked back and saw fog hovering over the river, shrouding the bushes and rafts. The fog at their backs seemed to grow thicker as they moved farther away. There was nobody walking around the town. It looked completely deserted. They realized the collapse of the electric grid would have kept normal business away and the drizzle probably kept others away, too.

The sign for Main Street was just ahead. They decided to walk Main Street toward the center of town and look for any government building. If they could hand the letter from the general to the mayor or anyone on the city council, they could consider their mission complete. Only a few blocks away they saw a building with a sign that advertised, City Hall. It was a brick building with concrete steps leading to a row of glass doors.

“What day is it?” asked Richard.

“I stopped keeping track,” answered Kyle. “What’s the point now?”

Robert glanced nervously around. He ascended the concrete steps. At the top, he stopped and looked back again. Nobody was around. He pulled on a glass door and hesitantly opened it. Robert looked surprised, as if he had not expected it to open. He swung the door wide and stepped in with Kyle and Richard behind him.

“Hey!” exclaimed a man from a dark corner.

The three men were startled. They heard the voice, but could not see anybody in the darkness. They heard someone walking toward them. As he got closer, the faint outside light coming through the glass doors revealed his features. He was an older man with gray hair and a moustache. He appeared to have on a law enforcement uniform with a leather gun belt and pistol. The man looked like he had been sleeping somewhere in the darkness. He walked toward the three men with his right hand resting on the pistol. The man was tall and his name badge was right at Robert’s eye level.

“Officer Billet?” asked Robert.

“That’s Chief Billet. What do you want? This area is off limits to the general public,” said the chief of police, as he scanned the three men with bleary eyes. The chief rested his hand on the pistol and tapped his trigger finger on the holster.

“We have a letter for the town.”

“For the town? That makes no sense to me. What the hell are you talking about?” asked the chief, tapping his holster more rapidly.

“Maybe I should’ve said for the mayor or City Council.”

“We still have a mayor. He’s there, just down the hall,” said Chief Billet, pointing down the corridor.

Robert took a step forward and he felt a hard thump on his chest. The chief had shoved the end of his nightstick into Robert’s chest to stop him from walking to the corridor.

“Hold it. No one goes down there without permission. I’ll take the letter.”

“We were asked to personally deliver it,” said Robert, holding up the plastic bag with the envelope to show the chief.

The chief took several steps backward. He unsnapped the leather strap holding his pistol in the holster. “Listen to me. Turn around and put your hands on the doors. Spread your legs wide. I’m going to pat you down for weapons. Don’t make any funny moves.”

Robert felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He had brought the large survival knife with him under the rain poncho. Reluctantly, Robert turned to the glass doors as instructed. This is where it goes bad , he thought. He risked a quick glance toward Kyle and Richard. From the expressions on their faces, he knew what they were thinking.

The chief patted Robert down first. Robert closed his eyes and his mouth went dry. He felt the chief probe around the rain poncho’s collar, then pat under his armpits with the palms of his hands. The chief briefly felt past Robert’s waistline and down his legs. Without commenting, the chief moved on to the other two men and again found no weapons. Robert opened his eyes in disbelief. He slightly turned his head toward Kyle and saw him fighting away a grin of relief.

“Who’s the letter from?” asked the chief, stepping back and pointing to the letter with the nightstick.

“General Matthews at the Air Force base asked us to deliver the letter,” answered Robert, authoritatively.

The chief considered what Robert said. He briefly stared at the men as he rubbed the razor stubble on his face. “Follow me. I’ll take you to the conference room where Mayor Jenkins has been working,” said Chief Billet, as he turned and walked down the corridor. The three men followed the chief in single file with Robert in front.

They walked into a room and saw a large meeting table near a wall with several large windows. The blinds had been lifted to allow the meager sunlight into the room. An older man was sitting at the table with his back to the windows. He looked up at the men as they walked into the room. The mayor tilted his head downward and moved his reading glasses to the tip of his nose. The mayor remained seated and stared stoically at his uninvited guests.

“Visitors,” announced the chief.

The chief walked toward the mayor’s side of the table to face the men. He backed up to a window behind the mayor and leaned against it. The three men stood in front of the large table, facing the chief and the mayor. Behind the three men was a large flat-screen television secured to the wall. The screen reflected a black glare from the dim light coming through the windows.

“Can I help you?” asked the mayor, insincerely, while raising an eyebrow and looking over his glasses.

Robert stepped forward and slid the plastic bag with the letter from General Matthews across the table to the mayor. “This is from General Matthews at the Air Force base. He asked us to deliver this letter to you.”