By David C. Daoust
Sheriff Dunn felt like he missed a lot. Driving the boxy brown land-speeder back through the newly refurbished gates of Grady, and then to find the entirety of the town restored… Well, he’d felt the reconstruction was inevitable from day one, though still, somewhat disorienting to find it all in such a shipshape manner.
That was the least of his worries, however.
Montgomery Dunn was just returning from a deep trek into the surrounding desert. A trek to rundown the high-jacked Sandcrawler of the local ‘Blue’ family. A rundown that had in fact been called-off as the very real fact that there were Battle Drones in the desert had become apparent. The Drones had not been seen since the Raid on Grady. Since the menacing machines, in fact, tore down the town around the inhabitants, and then disappeared soon after.
Spotting them, still active, out in the desert, was big news. News the Sheriff had no interest in allowing to leak to the public, without first weighing the facts. And getting a clearer view of possible outcomes.
This led to a somewhat limited report being sent back through the communications array. Which in turn, led to, at first, a single deputy, trying to get more information. A single deputy, who clearly did not understand that he should keep the limited information sent, both, to himself- and limited. But soon after, led to a pushy Farrah Blue, trying to force more information from the Sheriff through said array, herself. How she got access was beyond him, but she was not going to back down.
This too, however, was only the tip of the iceberg of problems the Sheriff found himself dealing with, as the young Charles Haul, in the passenger seat, had been endlessly insisting that they head back out into the desert- to find his brother.
The Sheriff understood the desire, although he could not bring a teenager and a senile old man, back out into such a dangerous situation. The old man, himself, had long since started ranting about being in custody- which he wasn’t. And accused the sheriff, a number of times, of just trying to keep the Unions down!
All that being thrust upon the Sheriff’s attention– when he spotted the red and white land-speeder with Sadie Blue in the driver seat, needless to say, he knew his load was about to increase exponentially. He kept an eye on the vehicle as she pulled around to find a parking spot.
The Sheriff had had enough!
In fact, he stopped right outside the Starport, where his temporary office had been set up during the aftershock of the Raid, and tried to quickly evacuate the area, before he was fending off another Blue’s endless questions.
Sidestepping the Young Charles, and failing to strip Grandpa Haul of his plasma cutter, was pushed to the back of his mind as he hurried through Starport’s front doors, cut across the main building, clumped down the stairs, he popped out into the central landing area, all in the hopes of cutting across to his part of the facilities, maybe get a few deputies to pry the pair of Charles Hauls off his tail.
The sudden ‘Yoohoo’ from behind, turned Monty to find a female bot signaling him to wait. He could only imagine- would have probably taken his attention fully, if not for the sudden rumble he could hear around the corner.
Monty could hear the distinct sound of punches landing on human bodies!
Around the corner he went, found a mess of boys, in a huge brawl, behind one of the larger cargo haulers parked within.
The Sheriff called for assistance over the comm, gave his location, and then rushed into the fray. He shouted his presence, identified himself- they did not notice. Hollering for them to calm down, pulling boys apart, making sure he got their full attention. Once the boys realized the Sheriff was there, they seemed to drop what they were doing and scatter. All but the last pair of brawlers, they did not seem to want to let up. The Sheriff was forced to pull his billy-club from his belt, wrapped it under the combatant’s chin, and force the boys apart. He was both bewildered and surprised to realize he had his son, Jessop, in his grip.
No sooner had he realized this, then he heard Sadie suddenly announce, “He’s got a gun!”
The Sheriff did not have a gun. People of the Chantry did not have guns. He turned to find the boy, Jessop was just pummeling into the dirt, with a gun leveled in their direction. Whether it was aimed at Jessop, or himself, he could not tell, though he forced his son behind him just as the gun went off.
There was a sharp tug at his neck; did not make sense. Monty’s body gave out under him and he found himself on his back. His throat quickly filled up with liquid, he was forced to cough it up, spurted red liquid up from his mouth, to spatter across his hand. The searing pain came soon after. His mind realized that was his blood, just as the world seemed to fade to black.
The ‘teens-will-be-teens’ mentality of Grady, died with that single shot.
Montgomery Dunn, himself, would wake up days later, on a medical bed, somewhat relieved to have been so close to emergency care.
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