A Powerless World | Book 3 | Defend The Homestead Hunt, Jack (read my book TXT) 📖

exited to head to the FEMA camps, leaving around eight thousand people, and that was just a rough guess. Most didn’t show up at city hall meetings but it was confirmed by others.

“Here we are,” Johnson said.

Like Eureka, McKinleyville was on the water, roughly five miles north of Arcata. They arrived at a home that had been cordoned off. There were five officers on the scene already, keeping out curious neighbors who were asking questions.

Entering the home with Johnson, he was taken into the living room where the bodies were laid out side by side, white sheets covering them. Patches of blood had soaked through, blossoming outward. One of the officers pulled back the sheets and Dan turned his face away. It was horrific.

He gestured for the officer to cover them up and then instructed them to take the bodies to a graveyard for burial. The sooner they were underground, the better.

“Who found them?” Dan asked.

“A neighbor.”

“Have any family members in the community come forward?”

“No one, sir,” the officer replied.

“Any neighbors say they heard or saw anything?”

“We are still collecting statements.”

“Okay.” He walked back out into the night.

“Do you want to see the others?” Johnson asked.

“No.” He exhaled hard and looked at the faces of locals who had no clue what had transpired inside that home. Surely someone would have heard the gunfire. He didn’t want to point the finger at the Native American community as the county already had a dark history with the different tribes, but he couldn’t imagine who else would go to the trouble to do this. It seemed personal, specific, and though he didn’t want to believe it, Evans had made a valid point. The land had once belonged to the tribes. They were here long before settlers landed on the shores of Humboldt Bay back in the 1850s.

“How do you want to handle this?” Johnson asked.

“Get the word out to the officers and volunteers to begin informing everyone of their options.”

“And those that refuse?”

“As you said, it’s not mandatory but if they want access to food, water, medicine, or fuel from our supplies, they will need to be living and helping inside the city of Eureka.”

He turned to head back to the truck.

“And you? What are your plans?”

“To speak with Colby Riker.”

Johnson made his way around to the driver’s side while Dan got in and contemplated the immense challenge before him. He told Johnson not to say anything to Evans just in case they took matters into their own hands. So far they had shown restraint but he was beginning to wonder how long that would last, especially in light of them losing several of their men. No, this would need to be handled with some diplomacy. He hadn’t been in office long enough to establish a rapport with the tribal community so he’d need an ace in his back pocket.

Chapter Nine

Colby scooped scrambled eggs into his mouth while his aunt Hazel puttered around the kitchen, preparing coffee. “Do you want a hand?” Alicia asked.

“No, I’m fine, dear. You tuck in before it goes cold.”

“I don’t mind.”

“The offer is appreciated and noted, but I’m good. If you want to help, maybe later you can give me a hand with the laundry.”

“Hazel, are you sure?”

Hazel laughed. “Where did you say you found this one again?”

Alicia looked over at Colby and he waved her off. “Hospitality is her strength, don’t fight her on it.” For as long as he’d known his aunt, she was the kind of woman that preferred to do things herself. She didn’t take offense like some folks did or keep a record of wrongs. She gave and gave but had a hard time receiving. It was very different from his mother who would take everything and then still expect more.

“You know, Colby, if you don’t take Alicia up there, she’ll make her way down here and you know fireworks erupt when she and I go at it.”

After getting back from Merced County two weeks ago, his memory had returned. In some ways he wished the part about his family hadn’t but it was still there, lingering at the back of his mind in all its ugliness. Out of courtesy to his mother he’d gone with his brothers to his father’s gravesite for a second funeral ceremony. It wasn’t much — a few words were spoken by him and then it was over. She’d stared at him the whole time. Her cold demeanor made him wonder if she even cared that he was dead.

To save Alicia from it, he’d asked Hazel if she could stay with her. That’s when Hazel had offered the room. He took her up on the offer immediately. The thought of getting sucked back into the hell of family drama was too much, besides, he still hadn’t decided if he was going to stay or not. “If we meet, it will be in town.”

“I don’t mind,” Alicia said.

“I do,” he added, downing the last scoop.

Hazel approached the table and refilled their cups with coffee. She placed a hand on Alicia’s shoulder. “Trust Colby on this one.”

“What is it about her?”

“That’s a loaded question,” he replied. Before she could probe deeper, the rumble of an engine mixed with the sound of horses’ hooves caught his attention. Hazel went to the window and looked out.

“Now what does he want?”

“Who is it?”

“Sheriff Dan Wilder.”

Colby got up and wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin, and headed outside. Alicia followed but was gestured to take a seat on the rocker with Hazel. There were at least six men, Dan and the same officer he’d seen at the cemetery along with four armed militia. “I thought I made myself clear,” Colby said.

“That you did, except things have taken a turn for the worst.” He jerked a hand over his shoulder. “Militia. They’re assisting us with ensuring the new changes in town occur without a hitch.”

“Like what?”

One of the militia, a fair-haired individual with a careless attitude, chuckled, his eyes roaming