noteasytobepink | We knew the peace wouldn't last

Entry tags:

wheelsy

We knew the peace wouldn't last

Who: Clarice & Bill
When: The beginning of Bill's ending
What: Guess who's back? Back in Town?

"Clarice?"

She blinked and looked down at the radio on her belt, attention drawn by the crackling voice even as she reached out to snag one of the kids, keeping them inside the crosswalk. It took a few minutes to corral all the kids out of the street, hell there must have been a birthday cupcake event or something to get the kids this wound up. Still. "Yeah?"

"Hey there, listen, we've got a report of an abandoned vehicle out on route 6."

"So?" she snorted. "Get Charlie's tow rig out there and call it a day."

"Charlie's already out on eighteen, got an RV breakdown. Just need to make sure it's an actual abandonment and not some idiots pissing in the woods."

"Charming," she noted. "Let me guess..."

"Still low man, girl, sorry. You get this one. Besides, you like jogging!" Dispatch laughed.

Yeah, well, if she caught someone poaching they were going to regret it, yes. "Soon as the munchkins are all herded then. If it's abandoned it's not running away," just saying. And if it wasn't abandoned, well, if they got it clear before she got there all the better? She didn't mind a door to door hunt in town, it was like hide and seek, but out on the road could get annoying.

It was another half hour before the last stragglers were safely crossed and handed off to parents. As to why parents couldn't escort their own kids instead of meeting them on the other side of the road, well, that had never been well explained but she was pretty sure it boiled down to 'we've always crossed the kids', big on tradition here. Another three minutes to shuck the crossing guard vest and sign, tuck them in the school closet, and then she was headed off. Route 9 wasn't that far, as the crow flies, as long as one didn't mind the fields between.

She ran the road up to the highway and back down to town before hitting her radio, "No sign of a vehicle," she called, annoyed. "Covered the ten miles from Hilliger farm to the highway and back. Saw some pull off points but no telling how fresh those tracks are."

"Hate to tell you Clarice, but there's a report out on Rout 22 now. We've got others checking the call from Route 8. You up for it?"

That was...odd. Yes. "I'm on it." Sure, it was clear across town but it wasn't like she had plans or anything. Was today some obscure pranking day? The drive cops nut day on the calendar? She'd guess 'tweaking the deputies tail' day but she'd kind of outgrown that point quite early on. The guys at the precinct learned to let her be after they found spiders inside their donuts. For a week solid. Sometimes it was all about knowing how to push back when boys were being jerks.

Night was falling by the time she hit the new road, scanning for any sign or headlights, tail lights, engine sounds...what she heard after a while was the soft crack and crunch of branches. She honed in on that and blinked at what she found, "Dispatch? I've got that car...it's been pushed off the road and behind some bushes. No sign of any driver, empty, doors open..." creepy as hell honestly.

That wasn't good.

"Repeat that? Did you say pushed off into the woods?"

"Yeah, I did," she admitted, backing up to stand firmly on the road again.

"I'll have the other guys looking out for that. We got more calls but we're missing cars..."

Hell. That was really damn weird. "Nothing about Rout 5 yet right? I'll go see if I can catch our prankers in the act and if I do I'm shaking them by their ears or something."

"Good plan, I'll let the sheriff know."

"Thanks, I'll call in when I can." Route 5 was less in favor these days, more of a back road since it didn't connect to the new highway, so it was a great place to lay a trap as it were. Hopefully she wouldn't be camped out all night waiting...

...granted, she found a truck sitting halfway down, lights on, doors open, empty. "Dispatch? I've got old James's truck here. He's not the prank sort. I'm coming in." To talk to the others and see if anyone else was having a creepy night.

And maybe she'd check on James's house on the way in, yeah. Lights were on and the TV was on when she passed by, so, Mrs. James was certainly alright and not worried but...

"Going to be one of those nights," she sighed.

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...that was the wrong call, she felt that in her gut, but hey, he was the boss. "I want them in a secure area, mind if I stuff them in a closet?" she asked simply. "Then I'll trot and run to your heart's content but I don't like this."

"We start pullin' people out or tucking them away an' folks are going to freak out an' panic," Bill replied, sensing that she thought he was wrong. "Which'll make us look the right pair of dumbasses when this all comes back as a false alarm."

Image was truly the last thing Bill was worried about, but setting off a stampede in a county full of trigger happy rednecks? Yeah, that was something he wanted to avoide.

"Have 'em lock up an' leave them be. I need you trackin' down Waters. I'm gonna see if I can't find out where in the hell these cows have gotten off to." Into the woods by the look of it, and where the stock went the one driving them had to be as well.

"Your call," his world, when they boiled it down. She still didn't like it but she'd agreed to take his orders when she signed up. "Can I suggest masks?" Just in case?

The area had a history after all.

"My evac point for civilians is the hospital room I woke up in two counties over by the way."

"You wear what you wanna," he replied, stepping into the trees.

"We won't need it, but noted." If it made her feel better to have one designated, fine.

He was going to get to the bottom of this, though, and doing that meant ignoring the uneasiness trying so damn hard to take root in him.

Everything was going to be just fine.

Uneasiness, though, was an indicator or subliminal detail cues. It was subconscious recognition and instinct and damned if he shouldn't have learned to pay attention.

Ah, but he was an optimist. She did love that about him. "Thank you sir," she noted simply before turning to ask the Kensies as a whole to lock and secure their home, find a secure room to stay together in, and to wear masks. Just in case. She did stress that point for Bill's sake.

Just in case.

"I'm on the road again. Tracks go out of town, looks like eight, possibly more 'friends' pushing the vehicle by the shoe and barefoot tracks." And wasn't it odd that some of the tracks were barefoot prints hmmm?

He was an optimist who dabbled in stubborn denial. A dangerous combo sometimes.

"Cows are headed that way, too," he noted, shining his light on the chopped up earth he was walking over. "Too much shit an' hooves to tell how many people were with 'em, but the way they were amblin' I'm bettin' they were led."

Or herded.

He came across an impression in the dirt that stopped him. A big wide swath where it looked like perhaps one of the cows had fallen. Rather than finding a dead cow or the hoof prints of a live one that had gotten back up, though, Bill found the rutted trail where it looked like something large had been dragged off into the dark.

Sweeping the path with his light it led off further into the trees and a ways down the line it was joined by another; this one with wet spatters along the way.

"Clarice, you find them do not engage," he said over the radio, kneeling down beside the second trail. "Dispatch, I need you t'check the reports we've gotten in the last week or so. Count up how many missin' animals an' stock calls that've come in."

Touching the wet dirt he brought his fingers up and eyed the red rust coloring them. Blood.

A branch in the nearby brush snapped and Bill's head and flashlight jumped to look in that direction.

"Give me a sec sheriff," their dispatcher chirped. "Huh, looks like McMannis had some trouble with someone spooking his herd, and a missing cow on Dunham road. Chickens been hit hard by foxes this week...but mostly it's been quiet. Don't even have any 'get this racoon out of my garbage' calls."

Do not engage? Them? Oh, that wasn't good at all was it? That coupled with 'quiet' well, that was worse. Towns didn't go quiet, really. Not in her experience. "Permission to evac," she'd probably ask at every point that this looked worse and worse honestly.

Granted, she'd stopped following the trail in order to listen in, and she wasn't going to follow the prints into the woods. That'd be dumb as hell. That was when the rustling started.

Great.

Screw it, she was started evac whether he said yes or no. With luck he would respond before she got back to the Kensies, that'd save them a fight later.

The lack of calls was actually reassuring. Tons of missing animal reports was how the trouble in Wheelsy had started out last time.

Hearing the dispatcher's reply didn't really settle the uneasiness he was feeling, but it was enough to get him to start moving again. He walked, scanning the trees, listening close for any other movement out in the dark.

"Sheriff's department, who's out there?" he called out to the woods before bringing the radio up again to snap at Clarice. "Dammit, I said no! We have no proof of a threat an' if you're going to panic on me without one I need you back at the station."

He was on edge enough as it was. The anxiety from Clarice was only making that worse.

"Slot the pieces," Clarice spoke over the radio. At least she'd switched channels so there wouldn't be anyone listening in? "What's the one damn call you guys sent me out on every night, usually twice? Racoon calls. No racoons. Spooked herd, disappearing chickens, fox assumptions, but why would we have foxes and no racoons?" She wasn't talking down to him, no, but her voice had gone from 'Clarice in Wheelsy' to the steel clear voice of someone who ran teams through danger.

"Rustling started when I followed footprints to the wood line. I'm used to your woods now, and the sounds that are normal, and an entire tree from top to bottom doesn't rustle." Unless something was in it. "Remember to watch above...hold up, someone in the road," she noted, leaving the line live.

"Hello Mrs. Depnik. A little late for a walk."

"I'm...lost dear. Do you know where I live?"

Now she wasn't one to assume white hair meant senile, at all...

"...oh you're...I don't know you do I? Could you call Starla for me? She knows where I live."

Shit.

Edited 2015-01-18 08:00 (UTC)

"Yeah? So then what is the threat, Clarice? Because you damn sure better know what you're dealin' with before you start pullin' people out of the their homes," he barked back. "You can't port them all an' we can't protect them all if we start a mass exit."

No, it was still better to have people hold up than to ask them to make a run for it and expose themselves to whatever was out there.

Hearing the old woman ask for Starla stopped him in his tracks.

"What's she look like, Clarice? Is she sick? Pale?"

"You know the threat, Bill," she noted softly. "It's after you. I don't know this critter? But I know villains. You hurt it, you personally, something no one else ever managed. That means revenge and taking things slow the second round."

That said though, well, she was taking a step back "pale and missing a slipper. Also missing her pearls and purse, something she'd never be without. I always have a plan, Bill. Just because you never wanted to speak of it doesn't mean I didn't plan." She could and would evac everyone.

"Here's the test," she dropped, sweeping a leg out to trip the old lady, only standing again when she heard the enraged hissing.

He listened to her and something cold snaked down his spine. Out in the dark another branch snapped, and Bill had the distinct feeling he was being watched.

The hissing he heard over the radio brought it all flashing back and he knew she was right.

"Get out of there, Clarice," he said to her in a cold, calm voice as he snapped the thumb guard on his holster, listening to the rustling in the woods around him draw in closer. "It's seen you, and he's gonna send others after you."

It was a few moments before she answered, "I'm gone," she noted. "I'm breaking power cover and I'm getting your people out. Every single one I can will end up at county general two towns over with orders to clear out of the arrival room but to camp there safe. Scream if you need me, I'm headed into overdrive here."

Where by 'overdrive' she meant 'moving too damn fast for anyone to latch onto and popping in and out of reality to teleport people'. She was also, possibly, going to steal a lot of pencils.

It's already too late for me.

He thought it, but he didn't say it.

The path back to the cruiser was clear, but to go by the growing rustling in the brush around him he was going to have a hell of a time reaching it.

"Alright," was his simple reply to her, and then he was tucking the radio away and drawing his gun.

When the first form shuffled out of the brush he didn't hesitate in pulling the trigger.

It was never too late if you could still think. She'd shake him for that kind of thought later.

Later later.

For now she was stretching into the kind of running no one here had ever seen from her, as much flickering as feet on the ground, back to the houses she'd memorized.

All of them.

Some of them she was too late for course, but not as many as one would expect. Grant really was taking it carefully this time around, so of course it was time to remove the extra pieces from the board. Granted, she scared the hell out of most the people, somehow 'Slugs, STAY IN THE HOSPITAL TELEPORT!' bit for everyone she encountered? That wasn't reassuring.

Who knew?

Every optimist became a fatalist sometime, and having the thing that nearly killed you once come back to try it again would be a turning point for many.

Bill was damn lucky to get through one night of hell, he wasn't certain his luck would hold out again.

That and a hundred other thoughts were serving as distraction as he tried to make it back to the car. He was worried about Clarice and how many she might be able to save. He was hoping his mom was one of them. And he was afraid this time he might let his town down.

That was the thing about evil; it was persistent. Luckily true heroes were damn weeds themselves. It was a different kind of fatalism perhaps, a ready and dangerous kind, but maybe it would grow on him.

In time.

She was damn well going to make sure he had that time.

Everyone else in town could get 'unexplained phenomena counseling'. She was going to make people safe? Then she was going to find him.

That was also Grant's drive though, finding him. "Always so sure, Pardy," echoed through the woods. "It won't work."

The voice made him jump, and he was quick to raise his weapon, searching for a target.

"Grant? That you out there?" It couldn't be, it wasn't possible. The man, or the monster the man had become, had been blown to bits.

That got nothing but laughter, deep in the woods in a wave behind him. "Where's Starla, Pardy?"

"Like I'd tell you," he replied, defiance covering any waver in his voice.

Strange how the mention of a woman he'd been scorned by time and time again could still spur him and set off an urgency that made him determined to get out of there so he could stop Grant again.

The cruiser wasn't far. He just had to make it to it.

"Still dumb as a post, Pardy!" Really, that wasn't the smartest move now was it? "Give me Starla and I might not take your whole town this time. Isn't hard, Sheriff, you want that many dead?"

"Got one up on you last time, didn't I? So how smart's that make you?" he retorted, moving back down the path towards his cruiser.

"You ain't touchin' her. You get the hell outta my town, Grant, or I'll do worse than blow you up this time."

"Now Pardy, is that the responsible thing?" the woods laughed thickly. Really? Sending the monster away to eat others? "Where IS she?"

"It's Wheelsy I'm responsible for." The town was, and would always be, his first priority, and he'd make whatever sacrifices he had to to keep from losing it again.

"You wanna see her you're gonna need a plane ticket, an' last I saw your fat ass won't fit in coach," he replied, growing bold because now the cruiser was in sight.

"Ahhh, screw the rest of the world?" the woods laughed terribly before there was the screeching wail of bone blades scraping along the unseen side of the cruiser. "Not that easy this time."

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