The Incident at Pine Hills Mounds
Black-eyed kids and other shenanigans.
Separate Ways: Jon and Lang
A few minutes later Mr. Lang and Jon were at the end of FM 1821. They turned right at Fairton onto Highway 73. Fifteen minutes later they were passing through Silver City, heading toward Clarkston and a meeting with law enforcement officials.
“I had thought,” said Lang, “that you and I might be able to take an ATV in as close as we could, and then walk to the mound. We could’ve recovered whatever is there before someone else stumbles upon it. It’ll be hunting season soon, and you never know who’s going to be on your property, accidentally or otherwise. Now it’s almost a certainty that I’m going to have Roman and no telling who else all up in my business.”
“You know Sheriff Barton pretty well?” Jon was feeling a little less nervous now that they were approaching Clarkston. He had no desire to spend hours at the sheriff’s office, but neither did he relish the thought of returning to work that day. He still had to go back to the Lang farm, though, in order to retrieve his truck.
“I’ve known Roman Barton all my life, I suppose. He and I went to school together. Never thought of him as a policeman. But he’s been the sheriff for 12 years now.”
Separate Ways: Jesse Mendez
When Jon and Lang turned left onto FM 1821, Jesse, who was right behind them, turned right. He intended to drive to Point Haley and turn onto 1820, then take the right turn that leads to Clarkston. It wasn’t that much closer, but he was determined to put as much distance as possible as quickly as possible between himself and people who shot at drones.
The rain picked up a little bit almost as soon as Jesse left Lang’s driveway. It didn’t really matter if it came a deluge though, for Jesse wasn’t slowing down. Where there was gunfire, Jesse Mendez would not be. He smashed the accelerator pedal to the floor.
Jesse hadn’t got very far down the road when he saw something. It seemed as though something was blinking, appearing and disappearing at random. Whatever it was, it was in the middle of the road. Annoyed, he began to slow the car down. He saw...couldn’t be...but it was. There appeared to be a half-dressed woman standing in the road. The woman had one hand raised as if issuing a command to stop. Or a request for assistance.
Good Lord, Jesse thought. She has a gun. He actually thought about running over her, but she wasn’t aiming the rifle at him and his young heart wasn’t that hardened yet. There was nothing he could do. He began to slow down even more. When he substantially slowed his speed he realized that it was not a woman in the road. Well, it was a female, but not a grown woman. It was 16 year old Esmeralda Olson. He knew her and her family.
Something must be wrong for Esmeralda to be out here like this in the foul weather. And with a hunting rifle. He slowed to a stop and rolled his window down. It was now coming a steady rain.
“Esmeralda? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Why do you have a gun?”
“Oh yes,” said Esmeralda. “Everything is fine.” She smiled at him, and then he saw her black eyes and felt the presence of something...foreign? Alien to this plane? Something was definitely wrong with the girl, and Jesse felt that he was in danger. Then that thought was gently washed from his mind. Esmeralda was a good girl. She needed help, and he would do whatever she required.
“Jesse,” said Esmeralda. Her voice was emotionless, even lifeless. “Your name is Jesse. Do you know how to use this weapon?”
“Oh yes,” Jesse replied. “Been shooting them since I was a little kid.”
“Satisfactory,” replied her flat voice. “Take the weapon and follow me. We must walk from here.”
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