City of the Lost (Rockton 1)

underestimate the speed with which we humans can undo a thousand years of civilization. We aren't nearly at Lord of the Flies level inside the town limits, but if you walk a mile into the wilderness, you'll find Golding's world come to life.

The changes that come with living this way are not all a regression, though, and I see proof of that tonight. Everyone pitches in, whether it's helping with the fire or bringing wash basins and cold drinks and fresh clothes for those fighting the fire.

As for Diana, she's been taken home and sedated. I pop my head in, but she's unconscious. Beth's busy at the clinic treating burns and smoke inhalation, and I'm not going to interrupt her to ask about Diana's condition. So I head out to find Dalton. When I hear that Val has summoned him, I pick up my pace.

A lantern glows in Val's house. Voices drift from a partly open window.

"--one resident dead, another half dead," Val is saying.

"His name was Mick. Hers is Diana."

"Don't correct me."

"I'm reminding you. I know how hard it is for you to remember people. Well, I'd say that you just don't give a shit, but it's been a fucking horrible night, Val. Otherwise, I'd also complain about how you didn't even leave your goddamn house, and that's a conversation best left for a more respectable hour."

"Five people are dead, sheriff, and--"

"Here, let me save us both some time. Five people are dead, and I'm a fucking lousy sheriff because I haven't stopped a killer."

"We hired you a detective, and I don't see that it's made any difference."

"Butler is doing just fine. Without her, you'd have had another body in that fire. I'm also not convinced tonight's crime is connected to the others."

"So your lack of progress is emboldening others--"

"It's been two fucking weeks, Val. Do you know how often we catch killers faster than that? Only when they're standing beside the damned body, sobbing a confession. That's pretty much the only sort of murders we get. This is different. Let us do our job--"

"The council is not pleased."

"Fucking shock of the century. Tell them I don't give a shit. Those exact words, please." Footsteps as he heads for the door.

Val calls after him. "One building destroyed. Another damaged. Our entire stockpile of wood gone. Half our supply of water depleted."

"Yeah, it's called a fire. Which is why I've been telling the council for years that we need to be better prepared for one. If Casey and I hadn't been there in time, we could have lost half the fucking town. I'll pass on the council's thanks."

More footfalls. He is heading to the rear door. I back up past the corner.

"Murder, drugs, fire--this town is a mess, Eric. If you can't do the job--"

"The council will boot my ass out the front gate. Heard it. Not concerned. I'm the best damned sheriff you've had since this place opened. And yeah, that includes my father. Otherwise, the council would have hauled him back to deal with these murders. Good night, Valerie."

He saunters out the back, his head high. The door slaps shut behind him, and he thumps down the porch steps. In a few long strides, he's beside the house. Then he stops, out of sight, and that steel melts from his spine and there's a moment there, of turmoil and fear, so unguarded and raw that my gut twists in shame for watching. I'm backing away when he notices the movement.

"I'm sorry," I say as I walk to him. "I heard voices and--"

"It's fine."

He starts walking and motions for me to keep up. At the road, he pauses to look at the still-smouldering lumber shed, at the smoke creeping over the town, at people with scorched jackets and soot-streaked faces on porches catching their breath, no one talking, everyone realizing how bad it could have been. He falters, that unguarded look returning for a moment before he blinks it back. Down the road, someone sees him and steps off a porch to wait. Someone else follows.

"Fuck," he says.

"I'm sure they just have questions, but you don't need to deal with that right now."

He exhales again, that slow stream of exhaustion. "Nah, I should..." He trails off, as if he can't even summon the energy to finish his sentence.

"We need to check the forest," I say.

"Hmm?" He looks over, eyes unfocused.