“Since it’s not possible for you to attend the training school, I’m deputizing you.”
“What does that mean?”
“In emergency situations, I can tap specific people in the county to back us up.”
“Like a second string.”
“Exactly. Let’s go in the back door.”
They went around to the rear of the building where there was a secured door. When the sheriff reached for the number pad, G8 watched him enter the six digit code. The light on top went from red to green, and Biggs opened the door, nearly colliding with one of the deputies exiting. Biggs stopped him.
“Morning, Doug. You remember G8, don’t you?”
The man’s name badge read D. BARTHOS. G8 remembered the guy’s face but hadn’t formally been introduced. G8 held out his hand. “G8 Children.”
Barthos gave him a curt nod. “Yeah. You’re with that group that took over the old Trautman campgrounds.”
“Yep. That’s us.”
The deputy sheriff looked to Biggs, waiting for an explanation.
“I’ve deputized G8. He’ll be working with us, mostly to provide backup,” the sheriff informed him.
G8 noticed how the guy gave him a good onceover and knew what the man might be thinking. Especially since the deputy was obviously taking stock of his physique.
“Glad to have you join us,” the man finally remarked. He sounded sincere yet cautious. G8 didn’t blame him. “You look like you work out.”
“Not really. My brothers and I played a lot of sports growing up.”
“You guys pretty competitive?”
G8 chuckled. “You have no idea.”
“Any wrestling?”
“Oh, yeah.”
The man glanced behind him, then checked his watch. “I got a few minutes before I have to be on duty. How about we try a couple of takedowns?”
“What are you trying to instigate?” Biggs halfway teased.
Barthos turned and began walking back the way he’d come. “Just wanting to check if our new recruit has the chops.” The guy started unbuttoning his shirt and jerking the tail out of the waistband of his pants.
They reached another corridor and took a left where they met another door. This one wasn’t locked, and G8 was led inside what appeared to be a small gym.
G8 paused inside and looked around. Compared to what he was accustomed to, it was tiny. Maybe a fourth of the size of the one he and the others played in. The single basketball hoop was attached to the far wall. A rack of weights sat to the left, and a weightlifting bench was across from it. There was no window, but the overhead lights provided plenty of illumination.
“You ready?”
Pivoting around, he noticed Barthos had removed his belt containing his holster and carefully laid it on the floor. The man had also stripped off his shirt and shoes, leaving him in just an undershirt and pants.
Biggs dragged a mat from a pile near the door, dumping it in the middle of the floor. Stepping back, he crossed his arms over his chest to watch, a huge grin on his face.
“I take it this is part of the initiation,” G8 commented as he pulled his t-shirt over his head.
“I’ll admit I’m curious to see you in action,” the sheriff admitted.
He tossed his t-shirt onto the deputy’s pile when Barthos let out a loudwhoo!“Dang, man! You sure you don’t work out?” Taking a crouching stance, the deputy extended his arms and hands, fingers splayed.
