Page 9 of South of Nowhere

Why bother to ask? He’d have said, wouldn’t he?

“No. But, Lord, the depth’s got to be twenty, thirty feet here. No, more! Swear to God. Hard to spot anything.”

The Never Summer was relatively clear under normal circumstances. Now, it had churned up curtains of mud. You couldn’t see three inches below the surface.

“We’re moving, but slow.”

For miles the banks of the river were similar to where Tolifson now stood. Steep rocks and thick pine, most of the trees alive, some dead and gray. Tough going for the search team, plodding along on the banks, with their chain saws, axes, ropes and medical gear.

Martinez was continuing, “We ought to get a boat—”

“Boat? In that current? We’d end up rescuingyou. Keep going as best you can.”

This seemed like a good response to the police chief test: try to save the victims but not at the expense of your men’s lives.

People’slives. Two women volunteer firefighters were in the party.

Something else to keep an eye on.

Martinez said crisply, “Ten-four…Sorry, can’t help myself. I’ll check in later.”

“Okay.” Tolifson disconnected and stared at the turbulent waters, wondering who the family was, where they’d come from and where they’d been going.

Had the SUV floated? Was it stuck somewhere, in one of the many caves or a shaft of an old silver mine from the 1800s, most of whose entrances they had no way of sealing off? (And those that were sealed sometimes got unsealed—by idiotic teenagers who went exploring and weed-smoking and sex-having just for the thrill of it.)

He glanced down again at the town.

His town.

Yes, the family was important but he could hardly imagine what would happen if the rest of the levee went. If so, the crushing flood would be horrific.

“Han? Help here?”

He turned away from the breached highway and walked to a grassy area atop the northern hillside, the highest point in town. It was the municipal park; fifteen feet above the levee and therefore the perfect site for a disaster response command post. The voice belonged to petite and pert and somewhat-round Debi Starr, in a brown Public Safety uniform, under a translucent rain slicker. Her trooper hat was protected too—with a clear plastic covering that the men, only them, of course, called a rubber. She was muscling a tent into position, fighting against the ornery wind. Debi was the most recent addition to the police force, a teacher for the county laid off in recent cuts. She joked that she was a “patrol officer third grade” since that was the class she’d taught at the town’s elementary school. “Not a lot of difference between the kids and the motorists, except the youngsters were easier to catch and didn’t give you quite so much crapola.”

Not a real cop, but no matter—the city needed ticket revenue and she was good at the job.

Also, it was helpful to have a gofer. Coffee and packages and batteries…and putting up command post tents on high ground. Two were already open; he joined her to tug up the poles of the last tent, against a wind that kept turning the direction of the rain from vertical to horizontal. He grabbed and pulled, while she pounded stakes into the ground with solid, and accurate, thwacks of a steel mallet.

He and Debi then pulled two six-foot-long fiberboard banquet tables out of the back of her pickup, along with folding chairs. Her husband, Jim, managed Sierra Restaurant and Catering. They served damn good food, put together events at the last minute and did it for a song. “These were for Edna Zale’s baby shower.” She looked up. “Got the shower part, but no babies.”

Setting up the tables, kicking the legs into place and sending globs of mud flying, Tolifson said, “You bring the cute tablecloths? Moana? Nemo?” Thanks to the grandkids he was getting an education in what was culturally relevant.

“Ha.”

He eyed the tight switchback leading from the village in the valley up to the CP.

No sign of DRB.

A bit of relief.

He knew it wouldn’t last.

Debi now eyed a stake straining against the rope. The tent was like a sail. She picked up the mallet and thwacked some more.

As she did, she glanced his way with a concerned look on her pretty, round face.

“Any word on the family in the SUV?”

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