William Meikle - The Hole

Bill didn’t reply at first, and when he spoke, it was slowly and deliberately.

“You’re not going to kill any more of my people. I won’t let you.”

The general looked at first like he might reply angrily, then got control of himself.

“Just behave yourselves for a few hours more. This will all be over soon,” he said.

The two men backed away towards their vehicles.

“Did things just get better, or worse?” Janet asked.

Bill didn’t reply. He led them back into the bar and closed the door.

Ellen Simmons stood slumped against the wall, hands up to fend off the people crowded around her, all throwing questions, none waiting for an answer. Her face was white, her eyes red and wet. She’d been crying, and looked ready to start in again at any moment.

“Give us space,” Janet shouted. “She needs my help.”

Still nobody moved, not until Bill waded in and started shouting. Seconds later the space was clear. She led the woman to a corner table in the bar and Bill kept the rest away. The head wound was the first priority. Janet carefully unwound the sodden bandages. The scalp wound underneath looked nasty, but it had already coagulated, and after she cleaned it up, looked to have little chance of further bleeding if Ellen could be kept still for long enough.

“What happened, Ellen?” she asked.

The other woman didn’t answer. Her hands shook, and her lip trembled. She tried to speak, but nothing came out except a strangled moan.

“Charlie,” Janet shouted. “We could do with some hard liquor over here.”

Charlie took her at her word and arrived a minute later with two large measures of whiskey.

“It’s a mite early in the morning,” he said. “But my mother always said, a little of what you fancy does you the power of good.”

Ellen Simmons looked up and almost managed a smile.

“I knew your mother,” she said. “She whipped my ass for sassing her when I was no more than a slip of a girl. We could do with more like her with us here today.”

She took the whiskey and knocked it back in one smooth gulp. Then she burst into tears.

“I’m sorry, Janet. I really am. I got those others killed. It was all my fault.”

That was the only coherent sentence she uttered in the next five minutes. She drank most of Janet’s whiskey too, and then lapsed into heaving sobs as Janet applied a fresh bandage to the head wound. She didn’t look up when Janet patted her on the shoulder and left her to her grief. Several people started to move towards the older woman, as if intent on asking further questions.

“Leave her be,” Janet said, possibly more sharply than she’d intended to. “She needs to rest.”

To her surprise every one of them went back to their tables, leaving Ellen Simmons sobbing in the corner. After pausing to make sure they stayed where they’d retreated to, Janet joined the sheriff by the window. He didn’t take his gaze off the activity outside.

“What are they doing?” she asked.

He didn’t turn.

“What they said they would. Setting up a field camp. They’ve got all kinds of scientific kit, and the big trailer looks like a field lab to me. Ain’t seen a single one without a HAZMAT suit on—or one without a weapon. Whatever they think is happening, they think it’s still happening.”

I’m pretty sure I agree with them on that one.

Once again she saw the anger in the sheriff, the need for action.

It’s eating him up, being locked in here.

“They know what they’re doing, Bill,” she said softly.

“Killing my town, that’s what they’re doing,” Bill replied. She moved to stand by his side, and finally saw why he hadn’t turned. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

She reached up to brush them away but he gently stopped her.

“Don’t,” he said, quietly so only she would hear. “Don’t let them know,”

She nodded, and put her hand down.

“I feel useless,” Bill said. “Stuck in here while the town goes to hell outside. What kind of sheriff does that make me?”

She moved closer to him, nose to nose, and spoke in a whisper, making sure he would read the anger in her eyes.

“Don’t you dare,” Janet said. “Self-pity doesn’t fit you. You kept all these people alive last night. And we’re all looking to you for more of the same. If you dare to turn pussy on us now, I’ll kick your ass from here to California.”

That got her a smile.

It’s a start.

“So, man up, and get with the program, big guy,” she said. “These folks here are scared. And you’re the sheriff. It’s your job to get them out of this. What’s the plan?”

As she’d known it would, her barbs were enough to sting him into action. The sheriff looked her in the eye, kissed her full on the mouth, and turned to face the room.

“You all know who’s out there,” he said, loud enough for all to hear. “And you all know we ain’t got much time for feds in this neck of the woods. But Doc here says that they know what they’re doing, so we’ll let them do their job. But I want you all to be ready to move fast if we need to. If another collapse starts, I want to be able to get out of its way. Are you with me on that?”

Everyone seemed to agree, and the arrival of the CDC had calmed some of those who seemed a little anxious. But there were many that only managed blank stares, and some had even gone back to sleep.

Janet was reminded of film of disaster victims; blank stares, bandages, and a siege mentality.

And that’s just what we are now. Victims. Maybe later we’ll be survivors. But I’ve got a feeling there’s a way to go yet before then.

“So what now?” Charlie asked. He poured himself another beer as he spoke, but Big Bill took it off him before he could start in on it and downed almost half of it in a single gulp.

“Now, you and I get some breakfast sorted out for these folks. It might be a long day, and a while before we get a square meal inside us. There’ll be plenty of time for drinking later.”

“Is that a promise?” Charlie said with a smile, but he gave the sheriff another salute, and followed as Janet and Bill went back through to the kitchen and checked out the contents of the store cupboards.

It was obvious they were not equipped for a long stay. The coffee at hand was enough for a couple of days, but by the time everyone had a breakfast the bread, milk and eggs would be mostly gone. The sheriff looked worried.

“I hope these CDC folks have a plan for feeding us, or moving us out, or both.”

They rustled up a rudimentary breakfast of eggs and the last of a chunk of baloney, with as much coffee and toast as they could muster, and fed everyone that felt like eating. To Janet’s dismay some of the folks didn’t leave their seats, just sat, staring listlessly into space.

They’re close to giving up. It’s just too much for them to handle.

After eating, some of the more mobile of the patients started to get agitated again.

“Come on, Bill. Do something,” one of them said.

And Ellen Simmons, despite her ordeal of the night before, seemed to be getting back her spunk.

“If you don’t get something moving, I will,” she said to the sheriff.

Bill didn’t answer, but Charlie laughed at her, which didn’t help matters any.

“Go right ahead, Ellen. You got three folks killed last night. Want to try for more this time?”

Janet was afraid that Ellen might indeed march out the door and start making demands of the CDC, but it was a scenario they didn’t have to worry about just yet, for before the woman could decide one way or the other, the CDC announced they were ready to begin.